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madebycloud · 6 months ago

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Ex at Christmas

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you've been invited to spend the christmas with your ex-girlfriend's family. only one problem is that your ex-girlfriend has not told anyone that the relationship is over. (requested by anon) warnings/themes: fluff and angst, found family af, fake dating, ex lovers, christmas, family gatherings, secret santa, everyone is alive and happy au, modern au vi just begging for you to take her back? words: 17.3k.... (i got carried away) notes: it's so long i should've cut it into parts but idk where... so suffer (╥﹏╥) — ✩ part one, part two

As always, the last drop is a lively spot. warm, cozy, and familiar. Colorful lights hang from the ceiling, a decorated tree stands in the corner, a 'merry christmas' painted on the wall, even a few strings of garland have been hung from the low ceiling.

People are crowding around the bar. Some are playing pool, some are simply chatting amongst themselves, cigarette smoke curling up toward the ceiling.

Vander's voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Look who finally showed her face around here.” He reaches over the top of the bar to ruffle your hair.

“I know, I know.” You laugh, swatting his hand away. “Things are just... busy, y'know?”

Vander rests his forearms on the countertop, leaning closer to you. “Just making sure you're still alive. “Been an awful long while since I last saw you.”

“I've been fine, old man.”

“Glad to hear you're doing alright kid. Haven't seen you around here in, what, three months? You need to come by more often, keep an old guy company.” He chuckles. “I almost thought you'd vanished.”

“You sound like a grandma with kids that never call.”

Vander grins and winks at you, taking a rag and wiping at the bartop. “You're like a kid to me, so I guess it checks out.”

You scoff but say nothing, leaning against the bartop as your eyes start to travel across the room. A few people mill about that you recognize as regular patrons, but other than that, there's pretty much no one of interest.

Vander snorts and lifts the rag to his shoulder. “We're having our christmas gathering again this year, you should swing by. Just like last christmas, eh?”

A lot has changed for you in the past month, and you've been dreading this coming up. “I... don't know. I don't think so.”

Vander raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean you don't know? Not up to seeing the old gang again?”

“Not exactly,” you murmur, the memory of the breakup is still fresh. It's not that you don't want to see your friends, it's just the idea of seeing Vi again. “It's not that, I just... things have changed, especially recently. I don't want to... accidentally make things awkward or something.”

Vander shakes his head and it almost seems like he's laughing at you. “Why would it be awkward?”

“I don't know…” You sigh, your shoulders slumping in resignation. “Nevermind it, I'm going.”

Your words get a smirk out of Vander, and he reaches over to poke your arm. “That's what I like to hear.” He gives you a wink, folding his arms across his chest. “You better show up or I'll drag you here myself. You know I could.”

“Like I'd let you drag me here, old man—there's no way your back can handle that.”

“Ah, you kids these days have no respect for your elders. You're gonna break my old back and then I'll die,” he pretends to sniffle, making you scoff.

Silco then walks over, looping his arms around Vander's shoulders. The two of them exchange a knowing glance before Silco turns his attention to you. “Look who actually decided to show up.”

Vander laughs as he pats Silco's arm. “Cut the kid some slack. They're just here to have a good time.”

Silco chuckles, his eyes still on you. “So are you coming on Christmas?”

You rub at the back of your neck, and just as you're about to answer, Vander beats you to it. “Yeah, she's coming,” he confirms.

Silco hums, he lifts his arm from off Vander, resting it in his hip instead. “Good, I was beginning to think you were going to weasel your way out of it.”

Vander smacks his shoulder. “Lay off, would ya? let the kid breathe.”

Silco relents and waves his hand dismissively. “I'm just saying.” He looks back at you. “We all want you there, you know. It wouldn't be the same without you.”

Hearing them say that makes you feel guilty for even considering not going. You know they mean it. You just hope it won't be too much awkward with Vi there.

Vander nods and smiles. “He's right, you know. Everyone's been asking about you. They'll be happy to have you there.”

“I get it. You don't have to butter me up, old man.”

Vander chuckles, then he glances over his shoulder, gesturing to a small, unassuming box on a nearby table. “Hey, could you grab that little box over there for me?” Silco smirks and nods before moving to get the box, bringing it over and handing it to Vander.

“What's in the box?” you ask.

Vander grins at you, holding the box in his hands. “We're doing a secret santa,” he explains, “and since you’re coming that means you're participating too.”

Your eyebrows raise to your hairline. You'd completely forgotten about the secret santa. You groan in annoyance, running your hands over your face. “I'm still annoyed I got that whoopee cushion from Powder last year.”

“That was a good one. She was so damn proud of herself too, and besides…” Vander pauses, turning to look at you. “You never know, you might get something less annoying this year.” He then holds the box out to you, a smile on his lips.

There's always the possibility you won't get something shitty, but knowing most of your friends... Yeah, that's unlikely.

You look at the box, then up at Vander. You take the box from him. “I hope you're right, old man.”

Vander chuckles before stepping back to talk to Silco.

You turn the box over in your hands, feeling the weight of it. It's not too heavy, and you feel compelled to shake it. But if you do that, you'll probably end up drawing Vander's name, and that's basically cheating.

Sighing, you decide to just bite the bullet. You take the lid off the box, sticking your hand inside. Your fingers rummage around before they eventually close around a folded piece of paper.

You pull out the slip of paper, unfolding it slowly. You glance at the handwriting, then almost roll your eyes.

Of course you got Vi.

Out of all the names you could have drawn, you get the one person you didn't want to get. You could have gotten literally anyone else. Mylo, Claggor, Powder, Silco, or anyone other than Vi. but no, you had to get your ex. Just your luck.

You look at the note again, and the first thought that comes to your mind is...

Well, crap.

You're so focused on the slip of paper in your hands that you don't notice Vander and Silco peeking over your shoulder.

“So, who'd you get?”

Vander's question makes you jump, you quickly stuff the paper into your pocket before they can see who it is.

“No one,” you say, waving your hand to dismiss the question. “It's not important.”

Silco raises an eyebrow. “Then why are you pocketing the paper?”

“It's a secret for a reason.”

Vander and Silco glance at each other, and you can tell they're silently communicating.

Vander turns back to you a moment later, rubbing his jaw. “A secret, huh? Well, that means whoever you got won't know it's you.”

Silco hums. “That's probably a good thing.”

“That's kind of the point of a secret Santa.”

Vander nods, scratches his beard before his lips turn up in a smile. “True means you can give them something real nice.”

Silco glances at Vander before looking at you. “Whoever you got is probably going to be very happy when they get their gift.”

You almost snort at Silco's words. Yeah, right. a gift from you? She’ll probably chuck it straight in the trash.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake the thoughts of Vi out of your head. You don't know why you're worried about how she'll react. Why care if she'll like the gift? Why care if she's happy with whatever you get her?

The answer is so obvious, but you don't want to admit it even to yourself.

Vander and Silco are still looking at you, and you realize that you have to say something. Any longer and they might figure it out.

You push those thoughts away. “If they'll actually like it. I'm not the best with gifts.”

“Oh, I'm sure they will,” Silco says, a knowing smirk on his face.

Vander nods. “Just give them something from the heart.”

From the heart, my ass. The only thing you want to give her from the heart is a kick in the ass.

“Because someone's gonna be real happy with something from me.”

Vander and Silco exchange another look again, like they're having an entire conversation without actually saying anything.

You turn away from them, looking out the window. They're probably trying to read your mind, figure out who it is you got. The thought makes your eyes twitch. You don't want them to know. You don't know why, but you really don't want them to know.

“Just do us a favor,” Silco suddenly says, cutting into the silence that had fallen between you. “Try not to stress too hard about it. You'll give yourself gray hairs.”

Vander chuckles at Silco's words, “You'll give us an old heart attack.”

“Ha ha, funny.”

Silco grins at your response. “Well, we're only half-joking.”

Vander's eyes soften. He slaps Silco's shoulder to get him to shut up. “What he means is, you overthink too much,” Vander adds.

Yeah, so what if you overthink? It's a normal thing to do. Especially in situations like this, where you're stuck with the one person you don't want to be.

Why keep thinking about her? You need to stop obsessing over her. She made her choice, and it wasn't you.

You run your fingers to your face, trying to think of something else to distract yourself. It's not like you don't know what you want to get Vi. You just don't know if you should get it.

“I don't overthink,” you grumble, shifting your weight on your feet.

“Oh yes, you do.”

And they're both right about that. You can't even count how many times you've paced around your apartment, replaying every interaction you had with Vi over and over again in your head. Every word, every touch, and every look. All of it, it's like your brain refuses to let you forget.

You've spent countless nights trying to figure out where you went wrong. What you could have done differently if there was something you could have changed. All of that, just because of one person who tossed you aside without a second thought.

“Listen,” Silco says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look over at him as he stands up straight, a smirk spreads across his lips. “You're going to drive yourself crazy thinking about something that hasn't even happened yet.”

“He's right,” Vander gives you a look before continuing. “And for the love of God, stop overthinking.”

If only it were that simple. If only you could just switch off your brain and stop thinking about everything. But you know damn well you can't do that. Your thoughts are as uncontrollable as the weather, and right now, they're a mess.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your thoughts. “I should probably go,” you mutter, and the two men nod.

Vander pats you on the back as you start for the door. “Same place, eh?’ he calls after you.

“Don't think too hard, kid,” Silco adds.

You give them both a nod as you exit the bar, shutting the door behind you.

Christmas is going to be one hell of a mess this year, you can feel it.

Now all you have to do is figure out how the hell you're going to deal with it.

—

You're standing outside of Vander and Silco’s house, the weight of the present in your hands suddenly feeling a thousand times heavier.

You've replayed this moment in your head countless times, but now that it's happening for real, you're not sure if you're ready.

Christmas music drifts out of the house, it's a familiar tune that you've heard a million times.

You push down the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. You shouldn't be feeling so nervous, it's just a gift. Just a present for a secret santa.

But this isn't just anyone, this is Vi. The one person who you didn't want to get. The one person who broke things off without a second thought.

Stop thinking about this. It's just one night. one stupid night, and then it will be over. You can get through this, you can handle being around Vi for one Christmas. No more thinking about her. No more wondering where you went wrong or if you could have done something to change things. Just get through the night and forget about her.

You take another deep breath, straighten up, and square your shoulders. Then, in one moment, you push open the doors to their house and walk inside.

Your eyes search the room, looking for that familiar pink hair. But you don't see her. Your shoulders relax a little. Maybe she's not here yet. That'll give you a few minutes to brace yourself. No one is around right now, probably in their rooms or preparing for the dinner.

You were so distracted by looking around that you didn't realize someone was standing right behind you until they grabbed you and spun you around. Your eyes meet their powder blue ones, and your mouth suddenly goes dry.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Woah, hey-” you stumble over your words.

“Don't 'woah hey' me,” she snaps, her grip tightening on your arm.

Vander's deep voice cut in before you could even speak. “You've actually came.”

You feel her look away from you, her hand finally falling from your arm. As soon as it does, you rub the skin where she grabbed you.

Vander looks between the two of you and says, “Hand me the gift, kid. I'll put it there.” He gestures towards a christmas tree where the gifts are already sitting underneath.

You quickly hold the present out for him to take.

He takes it before giving both of you another look. “Go easy with your girlfriend, eh?”

You freeze, your heart stopping as his words register. Your eyes widen as you slowly turn your head to look at Vi.

Girlfriend?

“I will.” Before you can even process what's happening, you're being pulled outside.

You yank your arm back from Vi, quickly putting some distance between the two of you. “What's your problem?”

She spins around and scoffs, looking you up and down. “I should be asking you that. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Vander invited me. He asked me to come.”

“Then you should've said no.”

“Wow? just wow.” You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I know that things didn't go well between us, but you don't get to push me out of this family. They're my family too, and Vander invited me here to celebrate. I have as much right to be here as you do.”

You refuse to break eye contact with her. “You can ignore me all you want, but you don't get to decide how I'm allowed to spend my Christmas. If you want to keep acting like this, fine. Ignore me, pretend I don't exist, just like you've been doing for the past months.”

Vi lets out a laugh, rubbing a hand on her forehead. “They do not know.”

You blink at her. “What do you mean?”

She looks over at the entrance and says, “They all think we're still together.”

Your eyes widen. “What?” you almost shout. “Why the hell would they think that?” “Because I didn't tell them.” She scoffs. “Every time I talk to them, they ask me how you are. Silco and Vander keep making comments about how we make a cute couple. They still think we're together.”

“Why the hell didn't you tell them?” You glare at her. “Were you ever going to?”

“I don't know,” she retorts, throwing her arms up. “They're all so happy about us being together.”

“That's such bullshit,” you snap at her. “That's such a crappy excuse! You should be the one to tell them we broke up.”

She looks away, planting her arm on her hips. “Don't you think I know that?” she shoots back. “It's not that simple. I can't just rip off the bandage like that.”

“Is that it? You’re scared that they'll know?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know how Silco and Vander can get.”

“I know how they get,” you snap back at her. “You're just too much of a pussycat to face them and tell them the truth.”

Her expression hardens, and her jaw clenches. “Look who's talking. You can't even say no to a little family gathering, but here you are.”

“I didn't come here because I wanted to see you. I came for the family, not for you.”

“As if I wanted to see you either. The last thing I wanted was to have to deal with you all night.”

“Fine, you know what? I'll go tell them right now that we broke up. They deserve to know.”

She grabs your wrist before you can take a step towards the door. “Wait”

You look down at her hand, then back up at her. “What?”

“Don't,” she says through gritted teeth. “Just... don't tell them yet.”

You scoff, ripping your arm away from her grip. “Why the hell not? So they can keep thinking we're still together?”

“Just don't tell them tonight. Can you just give me until after Christmas?”

“Why are you still dragging this out? What difference does it make if we wait till then or do it now?”

“Because it's fucking Christmas!” she snaps before dropping her gaze. “Look, it's the holidays. I just... I don't want to ruin Christmas. They've all been looking forward to all of us celebrating together. I don't want to ruin it by spoiling the fun.”

“Wait—let me get this straight. You want to fake it this christmas? Pretend we're still a happy couple?”

She's quiet again. “Yeah,” she whispers, looking down. “Yeah, that's what I'm asking.”

“You're unbelievable, Vi.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself together. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? You're asking me to pretend like we're still together, to pretend that nothing has changed.”

“It's just one day,” she mumbles. “One day, that's all I'm asking for. We can tell them anytime after that, just not tonight, please.”

She even says please. Something about the way she says it makes your heart ache. She looks desperate, like this really means something to her. Who are you kidding? Of course, this means something to her.

They're her family, they're important to her. And on Christmas, all they want is for everything to be perfect. perfect food, perfect presents, and perfect couples.

You hate the way she's looking at you with those soft, pleading eyes. She always looks at you like that when she wants something, and you always give in. She does it subconsciously, knowing how to get exactly what she wants. And damn it, it works.

“Fine,” you mutter. “You've got your damned wish.”

And there it is. There's the look you've been waiting for. That look of relief that comes to her eyes.

You hate that look. You hate how your heart flutters when she looks like that. You hate it so much. “Yeah?”

“Yes, you've got me for tonight. I'll pretend like we're still together. Happy now?”

There's a flicker of a smile on her face, something quick that's gone before you can even register. “Yeah, thank you.”

She looks away again. Silence falls between the two of you as you shift awkwardly.

This is gonna be a long night.

You sigh, watching as she keeps her focus on the floor. This is so damn awkward.

And it's your own fault for agreeing to this nonsense. There's no way this night doesn't end up being a goddamn catastrophe. You would give anything to just disappear right now.

Powder's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Peeking her head out of the doorway, looking at the two of you. “Hey, you two. It's cold out there, get your asses in here.”

You look at Vi, waiting for a sign of acknowledgment.

She slowly glances up, her gaze meeting yours. “Come on,” she murmurs, holding out her hand.

Taking a deep breath, you take her hand in yours.

You've held her hand so many times before—more times than you can count. Holding her hand used to be nothing, but now it feels so odd. So awkward.

But she doesn't seem to notice how out of place it feels. She slowly leads you towards the door, squeezing your hand as she pulls you along.

“How are my favorite love birds doing?” Mylo's voice greets you as you both enter.

He slings a casual arm over your shoulders, leaning on your shoulder to get a better look at you. “It's about time you two showed up. I thought for sure you were just gonna keep making out in a corner somewhere.”

It takes everything you have not to elbow him in the stomach. Instead, you keep a neutral expression and chuckle awkwardly, “Yeah, you know us. Can't keep our hands off of each other.”

“You two are sickeningly in love, it's really cute, actually.”

Your eye twitches, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah, we're very in love,” Vi says, and you can tell she's trying not to roll her eyes.

Mylo claps you on the shoulder before releasing you. “Well then, I'm going to go find myself some eggnog.” He leaves towards the kitchen, whistling to himself as he goes.

You turn to look at Vi, and you almost feel a twinge of hatred towards the way she so casually holds your hand, like nothing is wrong.

“Are you okay?”

Her voice brings you back to reality, and suddenly you're all too aware of how hard you're clenching your jaw and the fact that you're basically just glowering at the floor with a storm cloud over your head.

You raise your eyes to meet with hers, and you have to force yourself to release some of the tension. “Yeah, fine,” you mutter. “just cold”

It's a lie, obviously. It's not cold at all. Vander always keeps the place nice and warm.

Not even she's dumb enough to fall for that. She glances around, clearly noticing how you're not really hiding your feelings well.

She runs her thumb over the back of your hand. It's an innocent gesture, one that you've seen dozens of times before. It's not meant to be anything special, it never was. And yet, it still makes your heart skip a beat.

You have absolutely no idea how you're going to get through this night with both your sanity and your heart still intact.

“Okay,” she finally says, “can you stop clenching your jaw so hard? you look like you're trying to grind your teeth down to the bone. I know this isn't the ideal situation, but please don't go around looking like you want to kill everyone in this room.”

Her fingers squeeze your hand, and you realize just how tightly you're holding her hand in yours. Your knuckles are white, and your fingers are probably digging into her skin.

Gritting your teeth, you loosen your grip.

“There, that's better… please try and just relax for a bit. This is going to be hellish already, so I at least need you to not look like you hate me every second we're in here.”

You look away from her. “Please don't act like you care.”

“I'm not acting like I care,” she says, a tone just loud enough for only you to hear. “I do care, and that's the problem.”

Of course she has to say something like that right now. Of course she has to hit where it hurts the most.

Care? care about what? about you? about what she put you through, how she broke your heart?

You open your mouth, but your response dies in your throat. You have no idea how to respond to that.

A loud shout interrupts your thoughts, and you both turn around. “Oi! Time for dinner!” Powder yells from the doorway into the kitchen.

Vi mutters under her breath, “finally.”

Powder grins as she waves you both over. “Hurry up or Vander will eat everything and complain about his bad back afterwards.”

“We're coming,” Vi calls back.

The two of you head towards the kitchen. There's a long table in the middle of the room, covered in a red and green tablecloth. Everyone is already crowded around the table, taking their seats as you two enter the room. Vander is at the head of one of the tables, Silco seated beside him. Mylo and Claggor are chatting amongst themselves as Powder takes her seat beside Claggor.

Vi looks at the seating arrangement and sighs, realizing what's about to happen. She pulls you over to the table and sits down, pulling you down into the seat right next to her.

After a few moments, everyone quiets down and turns their attention to Silco.

Silco places his hands together. “It's good to see everyone together like this today. I am thankful that we are all here, safe and healthy.” He glances around the room in a quick survey, seeming to count everyone's attendance. “And what better time to be together than the holidays?”

Powder huffs. “Can we just eat? I'm starving.”

Silco raises his hand for Powder to stay quiet. “Patience, Pow. First, let's do something a bit… different.”

Mylo and Claggor glance at each other in confusion. “Different?” Mylo repeats.

“Indeed,” Silco replies. “Instead of just diving into our meal, I thought it would be nice if we all took a moment to share a few words about what we are thankful for this year.”

“We're really gonna do this?”

Claggor nudges him. “Be polite, Mylo.”

“He's right, though,” Powder chimes in.

Silco raises an eyebrow at them both. “Is it really such a hassle to express gratitude at the end of the year?”

Mylo and Powder grumble something under their breaths.

Claggor is the first one to respond. “I think it's a fine idea.”

“Thank you, Claggor,” Silco replies, “I'm glad we have at least one cooperative person here.”

After a moment of silence, Vander speaks. “Alright, then I'll go first... I am grateful for my family,” he says as he looks around the room. “I am thankful for my health, for my business, and most of all, that everyone is still here with me and safe.”

“That's so soft,” Powder says, but everyone ignores her.

Vander turns his head and looks directly at Silco, as if he's saying something that's meant to be for Silco's ears only, though everyone can clearly hear. “I'm also thankful for you, Sil,” he adds, the corner of his mouth twitching in a knowing smile.

You're not sure if you're the only one who noticed, but that comment definitely seemed personal and almost a little out of place.

He collects himself quickly and nods at Vander, seemingly not quite sure of what to say. “Thank you, Vander.”

Silco clears his throat and composes himself, turning his gaze to Powder. “How about you, Pow? Any words of gratitude?”

Powder groans, slouching back in her seat like a child who's been forced to eat her vegetables. “I swear, if you make me say something corny-”

Mylo leans over the table to look at her sister. “Say something nice for once, or you're not getting dessert.”

“Ugh, fine. I am thankful for…” She looks around the room, taking in everyone's faces. “I'm thankful everyone's here and we're all... whatever, happy and healthy or something like that,” she mumbles.

“I'll take whatever I can get,” Silco mutters before turning his attention to Claggor. “What about you, Claggor?”

Claggor seems to be taking a moment to think, like he's actually putting effort into what he will say. “I'm grateful for…” His eyes are almost unfocused as he thinks. After a moment, he glances up to look at Vander. “I'm grateful for the family I have here.”

Vander gives him a warm look in response.

Everyone's gaze turns to Mylo, expecting him to go next.

He fidgets anxiously, shifting in his seat as he glances around the room. “What am I supposed to say?...er, fine... My whole life's a mess, but...at least all you idiots are here to make my life more miserable.”

“We love you too, Mylo” Powder teases. “Real touching. I think I might cry.”

Mylo throws a glare in her direction. “Shut up.”

Silco glances at Vi, his gaze lingering as he waits for Vi to speak.

“I'm thankful for…” Her voice is quieter than usual, more hesitant. She glances at you before continuing. “I'm... thankful for the people I have in my life.”

Everyone's gaze settles on you next, waiting for you to say something. “Well, I... I guess I'm thankful to be able to still participate in this family gathering, even if I haven't seen everyone in a while.” You take a look at Vi before moving on. “Hopefully I can still be here and spend Christmas with all of you next year too.”

She holds your gaze for a moment, almost as if she's processing what you just said… and then, unexpectedly, a smile forms at the corner of her lips.

It's a subtle change, barely noticeable, but you see it. and just seeing her smile, even a small one like that, has butterflies filling your stomach. It's been so long since you've seen her smile like that. A part of you misses it, a part of you yearns to see it more often.

She quickly looks away, and you notice that her cheeks have turned a light shade of pink.

“There, we all said our little cheesy bullshit,” Powder says, clearly getting impatient.

Silco turns to Powder, his expression disapproving. “Language, Pow,” he reminds.

Vander sighs. “Yes, Powder, mind your language” he adds, earning a mock-offended look from Powder.

“Like you don't swear all the time.”

“I do not swear all the time, Pow,” he protests, although you know it's a lie. Even the most proper and upstanding people swear, and Vander is definitely not that.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Vander huffs but chooses not to add anything. Silco lets out a dry cough to redirect everyone's attention. “Right, now that that's over, let's go ahead and eat, shall we?” Silco says, as if the whole moment of gratitude never happened..

“Finally,” Mylo grumbles, “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about why we all gathered here.”

Silco gives him a look. “Patience is a virtue, Mylo.”

“We've all been patient for the last hour, so spare me.”

Claggor sighs, but thankfully Mylo and Powder seem to settle into silence for the time being.

Silco nods in approval. “Then, shall we begin?”

Vander gets up from his seat, moving to go grab the food.

Powder and Mylo look at Vander expectantly, and they both look like they're about to get out of their seats. Silco gives them a warning look, silencing them before they can get a word out. “Wait until everything is ready.”

They both grumble, but they obediently sit back down. They're impatient, sure, but they at least know better than to piss off Silco.

Vander returns a moment later, setting a platter filled with food on the table. It looks delicious, and the smell is mouthwatering. Your stomach growls a little, reminding you of how hungry you are.

Powder and Mylo are practically drooling, and you honestly wouldn't be surprised if they lunged for the food the moment Silco gave the word.

Thankfully, he doesn't give them any chance. He simply says, “Please, help yourselves,” and Silco has to gesture for them to wait.

They almost get up and move to the table, and they're clearly resisting the temptation to shove each other to try and get to the food faster.

Mylo lets out a curse, and Powder giggles in response. Vi stands up and grabs both of them, grabbing onto their shoulders and holding them back from each other.

“Enough, you two,” she scolds, “there's plenty of food for everyone. Chill out.”

They look at her with expressions that clearly are saying, 'no, we're hungry'. Powder lets out a huff, and Mylo looks like he's one more remark away from shoving her sister.

Vi's expression sharpens, her eyes boring into Mylo and Powder. “No, quit the bullshit, you can wait a few minutes, and if you two can't act like adults about it, neither of you are getting any.”

Mylo immediately shuts up at that, his expression turning more guilty. Powder just looks like she's about to protest, a pout forming on her face. Vi glares at Powder to shush her as well.

“Just quit it,” she says. “You can wait, the food will taste better if you don't shove it all down your throats like dogs.”

“Fine, we'll wait,” she grumbles.

Mylo just nods with a pout, staying quiet.

Vi seems to notice their looks, and she rolls her eyes, staying put just in case. She seems wary as she watches Powder and Mylo, her eyes switching from them to the food on the table.

And sure enough, the moment Silco gestures for everyone to get their food, Powder and Mylo are gone, rushing to claim their plates.

Powder and Mylo shove each other for their own plates. No one says anything though, they're all just used to it. This is just how Powder and Mylo are, and they've come to accept it. Vi doesn't even seem as bothered as everyone else does.

Mylo seems like he's really close to just pushing Powder to the side and snatching up the slice he wants, and Powder doesn't look any better. Honestly, if Vi didn't step in, there was a chance they'd start throwing punches.

And judging from how the others' looks, especially Silco, they look like they're expecting this.

It's like this is all completely normal, they know to expect this kind of behavior when food, and more importantly, free food, is involved.

Powder and Mylo finally settle down after their little fight, and they finally begin digging into the food.

Mylo is practically shoving it into his face, eating it like he's been starved for weeks. Powder isn't any better, although at least she's not making a complete mess.

Claggor is significantly slower when it comes to eating, choosing to take his time as he slowly eats as opposed to just shoving the food into his mouth.

Vander eats at a decent pace, and he doesn't seem as starving like Mylo is.

The last one to begin eating is Silco, and surprisingly, there's a smile on his face. He takes one look at how Mylo and Powder are chowing down on their food, then he turns his gaze and looks at you, as if silently asking if you're going to eat.

You take the hint, and you decide to dig into your own food. The food is delicious, and you can't blame Mylo and Powder for basically trying to swallow their food whole.

Vi also begins eating now that everyone's settled down.

Vander laughs, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Slow down a little, you two, the food isn't going anywhere.”

Mylo and Powder both raise their heads at that, and they both look like they're considering it for a moment... but they immediately go back to shoving food down their throats.

Claggor shakes his head as he watches them eat. “You'd think they'd never seen a Christmas dinner before.”

“You know them, they would scarf down all the food in town if they could.”

Powder glances up at that, a small pout forming on her lips. “Hey, it's not our fault we're just starving.”

Mylo nods in agreement, his mouth too full to say anything.

“You both just had eaten before this,” Claggor counters.

Mylo swallows whatever food is in his mouth long enough to argue with Claggor. “And that was hours ago.”

“Yeah,” Powder agrees, “it was practically an eternity since we ate.”

“Two hours is not an eternity,” Claggor retorts.

“It might as well be,” Powder counters.

Despite the bickering and arguing the dinner feels oddly... domestic, almost.

Claggor looks like the responsible and mature oldest sibling who's done with his siblings nonsense, Vander almost acts like a tired parent, Silco acts more like a stern aunt, and Powder and Mylo act like rowdy kids who are constantly at each other's throats.

Vi sits next to you. She's making sarcastic comments with Silco, laughing at Powder's jokes, and making small talk with Claggor. She even gives Mylo an unimpressed glare when he tries to snatch all the bread for himself.

It's like you're both back to normal. The way she's acting makes your heart ache. She's giving you all the attention a partner would give.

She gives you fond smiles whenever you make a comment, she casually slides an arm around your shoulders, she even scoots her chair a little closer to yours.

Her eyes are soft, her voice is soft, whenever you look at her, she looks back with this affectionate look.

It's so normal, that it almost takes you back to your relationship and how you two were before the breakup.

She's even doing little things, like leaning closer to you, letting a hand rest on your thigh, even discreetly grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with hers under the table.

You want to hold her tight and never let her go, but your brain keeps reminding you. You two aren't together anymore.

But when you look at her, when she looks at you with that look in her eyes, everything goes quiet.

Maybe it could work this time.

Maybe you two could just bury the hatchet and move on.

Maybe things could work between you two if you try it out again.

Then you remember the fights, the nights you spent on your bed, crying while Vi was out with friends. You remember how she treated you after the breakup—how she tossed you aside like discarded trash.

You try to ignore it, push it to the back of your head. But it's so hard when Vi sits next to you, close enough for you to catch the scent of her perfume. She smells like cigarettes and leather, something that's so her.

You're so focused on trying to stop yourself from touching her or even getting closer that you're almost surprised when she suddenly leans her head against your shoulder.

She doesn't say anything, just leans against you. She's pressed against your side, her shoulder against your shoulder, her head against yours, her hand on your thigh.

You notice her scent again, now stronger.

Her hair brushes against your neck, the way you can feel the warmth of her body, and the way her thumb draws little circles into your thigh.

She's so close, and yet you want her even closer.

You want to run your hands through her hair, you want to nuzzle your face into her shoulder, you want to feel her hands roaming your body.

You just want her.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Powder, her question pulling you out of your head. “It's been a while since we've seen you two together,” she says, her mouth still full of food.

Claggor shoots Powder a look. “Powder-”

“Shush, I'm just wondering,” she argues, shrugging casually, “has she been avoiding you?”

“No,” you say before anyone can say anything. “We just... haven't had time to schedule any dates, that's all.”

“For months? Haven't had time to schedule a single date for months?”

“Life gets busy, y'know,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

Mylo scoffs at that. “You two are dating, the least you could do is at least manage one date a month.”

Claggor smacks him over the head. Mylo grumbles and rubs the back of his head, shooting his brother a glare. “What? it's true,” he mutters. “We just kind of... we all miss you.”

Vander gives Mylo a disapproving glare. “What Mylo means is, your presence has been sorely missed around here.”

“We all just... we just want you around more,” Powder puts in her two cents, speaking around a mouthful of food again.

You cast a sidelong glance at Vi. You and her are putting up a pretty good facade so far, but Mylo's question seemed to have put her on the spot a little. She catches your glance, and you give her a look that says, just play along. Vi sighs, her hand squeezing your thigh.

“Look, I-” She glances around the table, meeting everyone's eyes before sighing and putting on the most believable expression. “I know we haven't been as... present as we should have been for the past few months. Work just got really hectic.”

“That's true,” you back her up with a nod. “I had to travel away for a business trip a few weeks ago, so it's been pretty hard to find time to spend together.”

Vander, Silco, and Powder all nod in understanding. They're aware of the fact that you have a job in a big city, so it's not an unbelievable explanation.

Mylo, however, snorts and crosses his arms. “You don't have to feed us some lame excuse for not hanging out with us.”

Claggor gives Mylo another smack. “Would you shut up already?”

“Ow!” Mylo grumbles as he rubs his head again, shooting Claggor a dirty look.

Vander sighs. “Regardless, it's good to have you here for Christmas this time.”

Everyone nods and agrees. Powder grins at you, Silco shoots you a small almost-smile, and Claggor and Vander both look genuinely pleased to have you here.

All eyes then land on Mylo, and he shrugs again, mumbling, “I guess it is good to have you here.”

“See, it's a christmas miracle, Mylo isn't being a little prick for once,” Powder teases.

Mylo scowls at her. “Hey, I'm never a little prick-”

“Bullshit.”

Mylo just grumbles again, his eyes narrowing at Powder. “I just think that-”

“Nobody cares what you think,” Powder interrupts again.

That just causes Claggor, Vander, and Silco to laugh. Vi snorts next to you, squeezing your thigh.

The conversation soon changes to talking about old childhood holiday memories.

Mylo tells a story about him stealing Silco's secret chocolate stash when he was twelve. Silco scowls at the memory, but there's a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Powder tells a story about the time she accidentally burned the back of Vander's hair with a roman candle. Vander laughs and shakes his head at the memory.

At some point, Claggor chimes in to tell a story about a time he and Mylo accidentally broke a window during a snowball fight. Even Mylo himself laughs at that one.

There's lighthearted banter, friendly jabs, and just a lot of laughter in between. This, this is what it should have been like from the beginning. It reminds you of the way it used to be when you were all younger, but still has a different air to it. In a way, it's almost better than those old days. Everyone's grown, but there's still that same energy that always connected you all as a family... it just feels fuller.

You don't know if it's just the christmas lights playing tricks on your mind, but you swear you can see the faintest tearful sheen in Vander's eyes. He's always had a bit of parental pride and love toward all of you, but seeing you all sitting here together, happy... damn, it must bring back a lot of memories for him.

Silco even looks less grumpy than usual, his mouth twisting into a barely visible smile as the rest of the table continues talking. Yeah, this is how christmas should be…

It almost makes you forget that all of this is fake, almost makes you forget why you and Vi aren't together anymore. It's almost like just for tonight, you can pretend like things are back to how they used to be.

But you know this will not last. When everything is said and done, when christmas night is over and you're all saying your goodbyes, you have no doubt in your mind that you and Vi will go your separate ways again.

You glance at her, taking in the sight of her laughing with the rest. Her eyes are bright, her smile is big, and her entire face lights up with joy.

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your heart to quiet.

Vi must notice you looking, because she glances over at you. She's looking at you with that look again. You recognize it so easily.

That look... that damn look she's giving you again. The look that makes your heart stutter against your ribs, the look that makes your stomach twist into knots. It's a look that almost makes you want to lean forward and kiss her.

You almost give into your urges. You almost reach out and push a stray strand of hair out of her face, you almost do something to kiss her, almost.

But you don't, you can't. That would spoil the whole 'still dating' facade, and besides.... you have boundaries.

You give her a nod, offering a small smile, and you swear that you see disappointment flash across her eyes.

She looks like she wants to say something, her hand tightening over your knee again, but she seems to change her mind and just smiles back.

Maybe it's just a figment of your own imagination, you think to yourself. Maybe it was a trick of the light or something.

Claggor reaches over to grab something from the middle of the table, and Silco clears his throat. “How about you two?” he says it casually, like he's just making small talk, but there's a hint of concern in his voice. “Any... any problems between the two of you lately?”

You and Vi both sit up straighter. “Problems...?” Vi repeats.

Silco just shrugs, playing it casual. “I don't know, I'm just wondering... a lot of couples who have been together for as long as the two of you have.” He trails off, but everyone at the table knows the implications.

Mylo grumbles. “I swear, if you start talking about how high the divorce rate is—” Claggor elbows Mylo, and he shuts up.

Silco just chuckles. “Oh, I'm sure you two can last.”

Powder rolls her eyes. “These two have been together since forever. You guys were like... practically attached at the hip, from day one.”

“Yeah, we were like that, weren't we?” Vi looks back at you.

“Yeah,” you say with a casualness you don't feel. “Yeah, we were.”

Silco hums. “I remember when you two first started dating.”

“Oh, do you remember that?” Vander says, looking at Silco. “I remember the two of them coming to me the day they decided they were going to be official.”

Claggor nods. “Yeah, and they were so... so mushy. All 'you're mine' and 'we're never going to break up,” he puts on a mock high-pitched voice, imitating you and Vi

“That was the worst,” Powder groans, shoving food into her mouth.

Mylo grins and elbows Claggor. “How many times did you have to stop them from making out all over the bar again?”

“Way too many times.”

“By the way,” Mylo says. “You two aren't doing anything for new years, are you?”

You and Vi exchange glances. “...we haven't made plans yet,” you say slowly, trying to think of excuses.

“Oh, you should come join us then,” Mylo says, leaning back and stretching his arms. “All of us are getting hammered down here for new years, you two should come.”

“Yeah, it'll be fun!” Powder pipes up, eyes lighting up. “You guys will come, won't you? promise you'll come.”

You open your mouth, trying to wrack your brain for excuses, but before you can say anything-

“Of course we'll come.”

You turn to look at Vi, and she just gives you a shrug.

Mylo grins. “Good, good! That'll be fun.” He sits up and points a finger at you both. “I swear, the two of you used to be so much fun at parties, it's like you both went boring when you got older.”

“Hey, just cause we're getting old doesn't mean we suddenly became party poopers,” Vi says defensively. “We're still fun.”

Mylo cackles. “Are you now? I never see you two do anything anymore.” He leans back in his seat. “Ever since you got that fancy shmancy job, you've been too busy to have any fun.”

“We know how to have fun, we have—” you pause, trying to think of the word, “responsibilities now. Responsibilities that a certain someone is too dumb to understand.”

“I understand responsibilities, but I understand the concept that if you don't get wasted while you're young, then you'll wake up at forty, old and boring,” he says, looking at Silco and Vander. “And I want to make the most out of my young and reckless years. Meanwhile, you've already turned into an old, boring fart.”

You scowl at that, but Silco interrupts before you can respond. “Don't knock on old farts just yet. Some of us are old and still know how to have fun.”

“Yeah,” Vander chimes in, nodding his head. “Just because we're old doesn't mean we don't know how to have a good time.”

Mylo rolls his eyes and waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, you old farts can still have fun. You just don't know how to have real fun anymore.” Mylo then pouts. “I just... I miss how it used to be, you know?” He sighs, resting his chin in his hand. “Before all that adult crap, when things were easier.”

“Easier,” Powder mutters, poking at the remains of her food. “Yeah, when we were broke and always hungry, real easy.”

Mylo reaches over and flicks her arm. “Easy doesn't always mean money, you dumbass.”

Powder scowls and smacks his arm back. “Don't call me a dumbass, you dumbass.”

“Then don't be a dumbass,” Mylo snaps back, smacking her again.

Powder smacks him again, harder. “Don't you dare call me a dumbass again.”

Before they can start another childish argument, Silco's voice cuts in. “Enough you two," he says, and they immediately grumble and fall quiet.

“Honestly, I sometimes wonder how the two of you aren't still in high school,” Vander says.

“That's an insult to high schoolers, they're more mature than those two,” Claggor jokes, earning him a smack to the head from both Powder and Mylo.

He yells and puts his hands up in surrender, “ow ow ow, ok ok! don't hurt me!”

Jinx and Mylo laugh, while Silco shakes his head. “See what I mean? Children.”

“And they both insist they're mature enough to be out in the real world, independent and capable,” Vander says, and Silco chuckles.

“They're still just as chaotic now as they were in high school,” Silco says dryly. “Nothing has changed.”

Powder and Mylo both glare at him. “Really? like you two were that much better in high school,” she grumbles.

Silco raises an eyebrow at that. “We certainly weren't as immature as some people,” he says pointedly.

“You guys were probably just as bad as us, you just don't remember."

There's a pause, and Silco and Vander exchange glances before Silco snorts. He tries to bite back a laugh, but it comes out anyway, causing Vander to burst out laughing as well.

“I can't-” Vander wheezes between laughs. “I can't believe... you actually…”

Silco doubles over, laughing even harder. After a moment, he manages to gasp out a few words. “Oh, if you only... if you only knew…”

Powder and Mylo exchange confused glances, while Claggor tilts his head. “What? what happened? what's so funny?”

The laughter finally dies down as Silco composes himself enough to speak. “Nothing, it's nothing,” he says, waving a hand.

“All right, all right,” Vander looks around the table. “I think most of us are done eating. Who wants to help with the dishes?”

There's a collective groan from the rest of the table. No one likes doing dishes.

Powder and Mylo immediately groan out a “not it,” and Claggor follows up with “You all know I'm terrible at dishes-”

“Don't look at me either,” Silco grumbles. Vander just sighs and shakes his head.

and that just leaves you and Vi... great, just great.

You're about to argue as well, anything to get out of being stuck in the kitchen with Vi, but she beats you to it. “Yeah, we'll do it,” she says, before you can even open your mouth.

“Oh, I-” you pause for a moment. You had been fully intending to dodge the chore, but now you can't without looking like an ass and leaving her alone to do dishes.

Vi stands up and picks up the nearest stack of dirty dishes, balancing them on her arms as she turns to you. She shoots you a look, like she's daring you to try and weasel out of helping.

You get the hint, shaking your head and standing up. This is absolutely the last thing you want to do right now.

You follow her to the kitchen, grabbing a few more dishes along the way.

She holds the kitchen door open for you, and you step into the little kitchen with its small stone countertops and simple appliances. You set the dishes down on the counter near the sink, turning to find Vi already rolling up her sleeves.

She's not looking at you, but when she starts to roll up the left side of her shirt sleeve, you swear you can see her eyes dart over to you for a split second.

You pause, staring at the side of her face. You can't tell if she's... no, you must be imagining things.

She clears her throat, raising one eyebrow. “What, you're not gonna help?”

“No, no, I am,” you hurriedly say.

You're not going to look at her. Not at the way her forearm flexes when she reaches down to turn on the water, not at the way she bends over to grab some dish soap, and definitely not at the way her shirt tightens across her shoulders.

Yeah, you're definitely not going to look at her. Not at the way her fingers move when she soaps up the dishes, not the way her biceps flex when she bends her elbow, and especially not at the way her hair falls into her face when she scrubs at a stubborn stain.

Why is she so fit?

You look down at your own hands, watching the water and soap bubble up between your fingers. You start washing another dish, trying your absolute hardest to look anywhere except at her.

The minutes tick by in awkward silence, but eventually, your mind starts to wander. After all, washing dishes is pretty damn boring.

You glance over at her again, out of the corner of your eye, watching the way her shoulder blades shift under her shirt. The fabric of her shirt is stretched taut against her shoulders, and you wonder what she looks like under it if she still has all the same muscles....

Yeah, okay, you really have to stop staring at her.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Well, so much for not looking at her. Your head snaps up at the sound of her voice, and you force yourself to just focus on scrubbing at the glass in your hands.

“Depends what the question is,” you grumble, shifting a little.

You expect her to ask you something about your current life or something generic. What happened when you were gone, what life was like where you were?

Instead, she asks something completely left-field.

“Do you ever think about us?”

You tense up, the glass in your hands slipping a little in your grip. You were not expecting that question. Hell no, you were literally not expecting that question.

How are you supposed to answer that? yes? no? sometimes?

What was she even expecting to hear? did she want you to say yes, to say that you always thought about her, that you would've come back to her in a heartbeat if you could've? or did she just want to hear you say no, to hear that you moved on, that you had to move on because it was either that or let yourself fall apart?

‘Sometimes’ was definitely not the answer you would've given months ago.

Now, though? you would admit that sometimes, after a rough morning or a particularly lonely night, you'd let yourself think about her. You'd remember those nights you spent in her apartment, on her shitty couch, talking her ear off about everything and nothing, the nights where the two of you would sit on the couch and watch tv, her head resting on your shoulder, and you'd wonder if maybe... just maybe..

You wonder if she thinks about that kind of stuff too, if you cross her mind late at night when she's alone. You wonder if she still thinks about the nights where you would stay in bed together, talking for hours after a particularly good round, your head resting on her chest as she played with your hair, or the mornings where you'd wake up and find her making breakfast for you.

Yeah, you thought about her a lot.

But you couldn't say that to her. You can't tell her that you think about it all the time, about how sometimes you can't fall asleep because you miss the feeling of laying in bed with her, about how you always find your hands searching for her in the middle of the night. No, you absolutely cannot tell her that, no matter how badly you wanted to.

“I used to,” you say instead of letting your thoughts wander any farther. “Not anymore.”

You keep scrubbing, even after there's no longer any more dirt on the glass. Just so you have a reason not to look at her, just so you have a shield from the thoughts you know are brewing in her mind.

She's quiet, and you can feel her looking at you. Looking at you, reading you, trying to figure out if you're telling the truth or not.

After a few moments, she takes a breath like she's going to speak, but then stops herself. It's something you're all too familiar with. She's overthinking something, that much is obvious. She's trying to pick her words carefully, and damn, you just wish she'd spit it out.

The silence feels like it's been going on for a year, but really, it was only around a minute. Your knuckles are turning white from how tightly you're gripping the glass you're washing, and your shoulders are beginning to ache from how tense you are.

“What about you?” you murmur. “Do you... do you think about us?” You force yourself to look over at her, and you instantly wish you hadn't.

She's not looking at you now, she's not watching you suspiciously or anything like that. No, instead she's looking down, staring at the soapy water, and avoiding eye contact with you.

She's quiet for a second, her hands pausing in their scrubbing. “Yeah,” she finally says, “I do.”

Her answer goes straight to your gut and twists deep inside you. You were absolutely expecting a solid “no”, hell, you were even preparing yourself for a cruel “god, no.”

Anything, anything other than “I do.”

She continues scrubbing at a plate as if she hasn't just turned your world upside down. How are you supposed to react to her answer? do you say something, do you not say something?

“Why?” the question leaves your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Why do you think so?”

You don't say anything, you just shrug your shoulders. You genuinely don't know. You'd just blurted out the question without actually knowing what you wanted the answer to be.

Her eyes linger on yours for a few seconds, and you can't quite read them. She looks like she wants to say something, she looks like she wants to reach out and hold you, and you'd bet real money that if circumstances were different, she would've done exactly that.

Instead, she just averts her gaze back to the sink and lets out a sigh. “I don't know... I just do.”

You go back to scrubbing dishes. It's obvious there are a million things that you want to say, that you need to say.

“Oh,” is all you say in response, and the word hangs in the air awkwardly.

You're both quiet after that. It's quiet, except for the faint music playing in the background and the sounds of dishes clinking against one another.

A few times, you catch yourself glancing over at her, trying to pick up any hint of what she could be thinking, what she might say next. But, every time, she stubbornly keeps her eyes down on the dishes she's scrubbing. It's frustrating, the way she just won't look at you, and what pisses you off most is the fact that you understand why she won't look at you.

You have a feeling that if she were to look at you, if she were to meet your eyes right now, she'd either burst into tears or shove you into a storage closet and kiss you until your lungs burned.

You don't know which one would be worse.

It's so quiet, so awkward. You're both just scrubbing and scrubbing, refusing to look at the other.

Every time she takes a breath, you look over at her, convinced she's about to speak. But, time and time again, she doesn't, and the only sound to come from her is a shaky exhale.

It's maddening.

The sound of Claggor's voice finally breaks the stifling silence, and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. He peeks his head into the kitchen, grinning widely. “Yo, you two almost done here? Powder is about to get impatient.”

You're thankful for the interruption, and judging by the look on Vi's face, so is she.

“Yeah, we're done,” Vi says, glancing up from the dish she's been washing for the last ten minutes.

You dry your hands off on a nearby towel, trying to look unaffected. “We're finished.”

Claggor grins again, “Thank God, Powder is about to start biting people.” He laughs, then disappears back into the main room.

“That sounds like her.” She chuckles, scrubbing her hands off on a towel.

“Guest we should head out there then,” you say, trying to get her to actually look at you.

She hesitates, still running the towel over her hands even though they're no longer wet. She looks down for a moment as if she's contemplating something, then finally lifts her head to look at you.

Her jaw is tense like she's forcing herself to stay quiet. After a few seconds, her features soften a little. “Yeah.”

You want to ask her what she's thinking, you want to ask her why. Instead, you just push the door of the kitchen open and gesture for her to go first.

—

“Now that we've had an amazing dinner, it's time for the best part of the night.”

Everyone gathers around, now sitting either on the couch or on the floor. Powder and Mylo immediately get squished together on the floor. Powder mutters under her breath, “Hey! you're shoving me!”

“Only because you're taking up too much space.”

Vander smiles from his spot on the couch. “Alright! It's time for secret santa. Everyone remembers who they drew, right?”

A group of nods and hums go around as everyone pulls out the slips of paper that have the names they drew.

Vander clasps his hands together. “Good!” he says as he looks around the room, his smile getting wider. “Who wants to go first?”

A few seconds of silence, then Powder’s hand shoots up. As always, she's the most excited one. “me!”

Vander laughs. “Well, look at that, our little girl is so eager. Okay, you can go first, Pow-Pow.”

Powder smiles and scrambles off the floor, almost tripping over herself as she pulls a present from beneath the Christmas tree. She glances down at the tag and grins.

She then scans the room with a giddy smile, then her eyes land on Silco. She bounds over to him, practically shoving the present into his hands as she sits down on the floor next to his legs.

Silco smiles faintly as he takes the present. “Alright, let's see what you got me, hm?” He's quiet as he carefully unwraps the present, and Powder watches him who barely contains her excitement.

After a moment, the wrapping paper is set aside, and the present is now fully unwrapped. It's just a little box, though Silco is curious as to what's inside.

He glances at Powder as he takes the lid off the box, looking a little wary. Powder just grins at him. “Go on, open it,” she encourages.

He looks back at the box and, with a nod, reaches in and pulls out the item inside. He holds it in his hands and looks at it curiously, then looks at Powdr with a raised eyebrow.

She's still grinning, and she looks extremely pleased with herself. Mylo glances over to look and snorts out a laugh. “Would you look at that?”

Silco looks at the item in his hands, then looks at Powder again. “You got me…” he begins, trying to sound unimpressed. “...a shark plushie?”

Powder nods, her grin getting wider. “Yep!” she exclaims, “I got you a little shark plushie. You like it, right?”

Silco glances at the plushie and then at her again, looking vaguely fond. He carefully sets it down on his lap, then smiles. “I adore it.”

Her grin somehow widens even more.

Silco chuckles, then looks around. “Who's next?”

Claggor shrugs, raising a hand. “I'll go,” he offers, to which Vander nods.

“Go ahead, Claggs,” he says approvingly.

Claggor gets to his feet from his spot on the floor, then moves to the tree. He crouches down and rummages around, looking for the present with the correct name tag.

A minute passes as a few minutes go by. He eventually stands back up, a small present in his hands. He looks around the room, then his eyes land on Mylo, who's now lying down on the floor and looking very bored.

Claggor moves over to him, tossing the present into his lap. Mylo looks up and catches the present, shooting him a glare. “You couldn't have done that a little nicer?” he complains while sitting up.

Claggor just shrugs and gives him a flat look. “Suck it up,” he tells him bluntly before sitting back down.

Mylo scoffs and begins to unwrap the present, ripping the wrapping paper off carelessly. He tosses the wrapping paper away, then looks down at the present as he tears the box open. He's quiet for a moment, looking at the contents...

..and then he groans, covering his face.

“Oh, come the hell on,” he grumbles, though he sounds more whiny than anything else. He glances up from his hands to give Claggor a withering look. “Dude, seriously?”

“What?”

Mylo just sighs, shooting the toy in the box with a dismayed look. “Really? a stress ball?”

Claggor shrugs. “I thought it was a good idea,” he says, clearly not bothered by Mylo's unimpressed tone. “And you seem to be lacking a bit in the stress management department.”

“Well, excuse me for being a bit stressed when you're being a dick.”

“See, you need the stress ball. You proved my point right there.”

Mylo just groans and throws his head back. He picks up the stress ball and squeezes it hard. “I hate you.”

Claggor merely grins. “I love you too.”

Mylo mutters something under his breath, too quiet for anyone to hear, then looks up as he addresses the group. “So, who's up next? I'm sure there's some poor sap itching to go.”

Silco raises a hand. “I'll go next,” he offers.

Everyone glances at him, then nods and gestures for him to go. He gets up off the couch and saunters to the tree. He scans the presents beneath it, moving a few aside to find the one he was looking for.

He finally finds it and smirks to himself, grabbing the present and standing up. His eyes sweep over the group. He then turns and walks over to Vander, holding the present out to him.

Vander glances at the present, then at Silco, taking the present and curiously giving it a little shake. “What is it?” he asks curiously.

Silco just grins in a vaguely irritating way and sits back down. “Just open it,” he replies, his voice dripping with innocence.

Vander raises an eyebrow but begins to unwrap the present meticulously, occasionally shooting Silco a glance, as if expecting something. He peels away the wrapping paper to reveal a small box, then looks at Silco, his eyes questioning.

Silco just shrugs and gestures for him to go on. Vander quirks another eyebrow up but opens the box anyway, now intrigued.

Then a snort finally escapes him. He's now fighting to hold back laughter.

Mylo sits up suddenly, looking at Vander, then at Silco, curiosity in his eyes. “What? What is it?” he asks eagerly.

Vander doesn't answer for a moment. He's still staring into the box, looking like he can't believe what he's seeing. He looks up at Silco. “Please tell me you're joking,” he implores.

Silco's smile widens. “I couldn't be more serious,” he replies.

Vander lets out a long, suffering sigh, then digs through the tissue paper and pulls something out of the box.

It's a pair of comically large underwear, one that could practically fit an entire person inside of it.

Vander groans, holding the underwear up and staring at them with slight disgust.

Mylo and Powder both start laughing once they register what the present is. Powder laughs so hard she nearly falls over, clutching her stomach as she howls with laughter.

Vi's eyes widen at the sight of the underwear, her mouth dropping open a little in surprise. As much as it pains her to admit it... she just knows the jokes that Silco is going to start making any minute now.

…and she's right.

“You see, I thought it was a necessary gift.”

“Necessary?” Vander repeats, still holding the underwear up in disbelief.

Silco nods. “Of course. you're getting old, and as you get older... accidents happen.”

“I'm not that old,” Vander grumbles, though he knows it's probably not the best argument.

Silco smirks, raising a hand and waving it dismissively. “Oh, you know what I mean. Things begin to... fail as you age. I simply wanted to make sure you had a spare pair.”

Mylo is now practically rolling on the floor, clutching his sides. “Oh, my god, I can't breathe—this is—this is gold,” he wheezes. Powder is laughing so hard she's choking, practically coughing her lungs up.

Vander looks down at the underwear in his hands. He looks like he wants to throw it into the fire and destroy it right there. He glances up at Silco, giving him a look that clearly says, 'I will get you back for this'.

Silco leans back against the couch and crosses an ankle over his knee. “What? You don't like them? I personally thought they were a good choice.”

Vander opens his mouth to reply, but Powder interrupts him.

“Oh, god,” Powder chokes out, “you should try them on. They'd look perfect on you.”

Vander shoots Powder a glare to kill. “No way in hell,” he mutters firmly, folding his arms and sitting back.

But Powder's not done. “Come on, just try them on,” she wheezes. “It really would be a look for you.”

Vander turns his glare to Powder, his expression clearly saying, 'I will murder you if you keep talking.' “No,” he replies through gritted teeth.

Even Silco is starting to look amused.

“Just for a second,” she teases, “come on, just long enough for us to see. We won't even say anything.”

Van shoots a sneering look at both Silco and Powder. Eventually he lets out an exasperated grumble and stands up, mumbling something he heads into the bathroom with the underwear.

Mylo falls back onto the floor, clutching his stomach.

Silco is laughing too, watching as Vander heads to the bathroom to change.

Mylo is dying of laughter, gasping for air in between wheezes. “Holy shit,” he chokes out. “He's really doing it.”

It takes a few minutes, but the bathroom door swings open and Vander exits, looking like he regrets every decision he's made that led him to this. His face is as red as a tomato as he stomps back over to them in the gigantic underwear.

Mylo and Powder are losing it again, falling over and rolling on the floor with laughter.

Silco is smiling, trying to stifle a laugh. “Oh my,” he says, barely containing his amusement. “They look even better than I imagined.”

Vander can hardly look anyone in the eye, still red with embarrassment. “I hate you. I hate you all.”

Claggor looks at Silco and Powder, clearly trying not to laugh. “You guys are terrible,” he says, a trace of a smile on his face.

Vi can't hold back her laughter anymore, she's grinning from ear to ear. “You look... perfect,” she comments through a strangled chuckle.

Vander turns his glare on her. “I hate you all,” he repeats, shaking his head.

Powder is still giggling from the floor. “I want pictures.” She holds up her phone.

Vander looks like he wants to smack her head off. “Absolutely not. I forbid it,” he snaps, sounding as serious as someone wearing comically large underwear can.

Powder just pouts, lowering her phone. “Oh, come on,” she says with a whine, looking up at Vander with puppy-dog eyes. “Just a few.”

“No, I'm not having pictures of me in these... embarrassing things circulating the internet.”

“The internet? Who said anything about the internet?” she replies, a smirk on her face. “I just meant... a few for my own personal, um, research.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but Silco chimes in first. “Oh, come on. Humor her. It's the season of giving.”

Vander turns his glare to Silco. “There's no way in hell—”

“Pleeeease?” Powder interrupts, holding out her phone again.

Vander looks like he's about to argue, but Powder is already giving him those damn puppy-dog eyes that he struggles to resist. He hesitates, then, with a grumble, he sighs. “Fine, one picture.”

Powder looks like a kid on Christmas. The instant the word 'picture' leaves Vander's mouth, she leaps to her feet and lifts up her phone. “Stand up straighter.”

Vander obeys, reluctantly straightening up.

“Say cheese.”

Vander grunts, but he cooperates. “Cheese,” he mutters, putting on a strained smile.

Powder snaps the picture, then lowers her phone and looks at it with a satisfied smile. “Oh yeah, you're getting on the naughty list for this one,” she grins, wiggling the phone a little.

Once the picture-taking is over and Vander changes his clothes back, Silco motions for Powder to settle down.

“Alright, settle down. It's time to continue with the secret Santa,” Silco says, looking at the others.

They all nod in agreement, still snickering but mostly focusing on the present exchange.

“Who wants to go next?” Silco asks, looking around the group.

Mylo looks around, then grins. “My turn.”

Powder rolls her eyes, knowing that look on his face all too well. “Here we go,” she says, preparing herself for whatever nonsense Mylo is about to come up with.

Mylo smirks, holding up his present. “Well, I drew someone's name... and it was a pretty easy choice.” He then looks around the group with mock innocence. “Oh, where's my victim?”

Claggor sighs. “Who exactly is the unlucky person this year?”

“There's only one person who I could have possibly chosen…”

“Would you just spit it out before the suspense kills me?” Powder snaps, impatient.

Mylo huffs. “Jeez, have some patience. Anyway, my secret santa is…”

Claggor puts his head in his hands, bracing himself.

“My secret santa is, drumroll please…” They reluctantly drum their hands against any surface near them. “My very special secret Santa is…”

Mylo grins, looking from face to face, savoring the moment before he does the big reveal.

“My secret Santa... is Powder!”

“Fuck!” She groans, burying her head in her hands.

“Aww, what's the matter, Pow?” Mylo grins, holding up the wrapped present.

Powder lets out another groan, glaring up at him. “You're the worst,” she mutters, looking like she's praying to any god out there to just put her out of her misery already.

Mylo grins, getting a kick out of her misfortune. “Come on, don't be like that. It could be worse, I could have gotten you a box of spiders,” he teases, shaking the present in her direction.

Powder looks like she's seriously considering that as a better option. “You know what? Give me the spiders. Spiders would be better than whatever it is you got me.”

“Nice try. You're not getting out of it that easily,” he says, holding the present just out of her reach. “You have to open it, come on.”

Powder grumbles in protest, then reluctantly reaches out for the present. She snatches it out of his hands, shooting him a glare. “If I die from this, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life,” she mutters, slowly tearing the wrapping paper.

Then, Powder tears back the last piece of wrapping paper, revealing a plain black box. “What the hell is this?”

“You're going to have to open it and see for yourself.”

Powder grumbles, giving Mylo a glare that could freeze hell over. She slowly opens the black box, not sure what to expect. “...Please tell me this is not what I think it is.”

The others lean in closer, curiosity getting the better of them.

“You did not get me what I think you got me.”

“Oh, you're going to have to be more specific than that,” he replies, trying to hide his smirk.

Powder glares at him, her jaw clenching. “You know what I'm talking about,” she snaps, looking like she's contemplating dumping the contents of the box over his head.

Mylo just shrugs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.”

Vander just rubs his face with one hand, knowing that this situation is about to spiral out of control.

“You're telling me,” Powder hisses, “that you didn't get me exactly what I think you got me?”

“Like I said, you'll have to be a bit more specific,” he responds, looking too smug for his own good.

Powder looks like she's about to explode. “Mylo, I swear to-”

Claggor cuts her off, knowing that she's about to blow her top. “Calm down, Powder,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I'll calm down when the box goes straight over his head.”

“Why so angry? I thought you'd be excited.”

“I can't wait to make you eat that box.”

“Oh, I'm so scared.”

Vander interjects, trying to diffuse the tension. “That's enough. No need to start throwing things around.”

“I was just having fun.”

“Yeah, have fun with a black eye.”

“Enough,” Silco says, giving both Powder and Mylo stern looks.

Both Mylo and Powder grumble, reluctantly backing down a bit.

“Can we all just get back to opening presents, please?” Vander asks, exasperated.

The others nod in agreement, though Powder still looks like she's not done with Mylo yet. She glares at him one last time before reluctantly returning to her seat.

Mylo just grins, clearly enjoying having gotten the last word in. He takes his own seat next to Claggor.

The others exchange glances, silently agreeing to not let Powder and Mylo be too close to each other for the rest of the evening.

Silco clears his throat, getting everyone's attention. “Now, who's next?” he asks, looking around the room.

Vander nods, leaning back in his seat. “I'm up next, I guess.” He rummages at the gifts under the Christmas tree. After a few moments of searching, Vander finally finds the present he was looking for. He picks it up, holding it in his lap. “This one's for you,” he says, handing the present to Claggor.

Claggor takes the present, looking curious. He glances down at it, then looks up at Vander with a smile. “Thanks,” he says, starting to unwrap it.

Once the wrapping paper is off, Claggor is holding a box of assorted tools. They range from pliers to wrenches to screwdrivers.

“Just like you requested,” Vander says, watching as Claggor starts inspecting the tools.

“Wow, these are great. Thanks, dad,” he replies, running a hand over the tools in the box.

Vander smiles, pleased to see that Claggor likes his present. “I thought you'd like them. I saw them at the pawnshop the other day and figured you could use them.”

“I definitely will. These are a huge upgrade compared to what I have now.”

Vander reaches over and pats Claggor on the shoulder. “You deserve it. You've been working your ass off lately.” He looks around the room, looking for the next person to take their turn. “Alright, who's up next?”

Mylo's head suddenly snaps up, a smirk on his face. “Oh goodie, it's Vi's turn.”

“Come on, Vi, your turn,” Silco says, looking a little amused.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses,” she mumbles, getting to her feet and making her way over to the christmas tree.

Vi crouches down, rummaging through the presents. After a few moments, she finally finds the present. She grabs it, standing back up. She looks over at you, looking like she's been caught doing something she's not supposed to do.

She makes her way over to where you're sitting, holding out the present. “Here, this one's for you.”

You take the present from her, looking down at it. It's heavy in your hands, the wrapping paper slightly crinkled from how hard she was holding it. “Thanks, Vi/” You look up at her.

“Don't mention it, babe,” she mutters, her voice strained.

Powder and Mylo both let out a chorus of ‘aww’ when they heard her use the nickname.

“Shut up, you two,” she says, glaring at them both.

You start unwrapping the present, tearing off the wrapping paper to reveal what's inside.

Once the wrapping paper is off, you're holding a small box. It's plain, made of brown cardboard, and doesn't look like much. But as you look back up at Vi, you can see a hint of nervousness on her face.

She's watching you intently, her expression anxious.

Still curious, you glance back down at the box in your hands. You lift off the lid, opening it slowly.

There, nestled in a bed of tissue paper, is a necklace. It's a silver chain with a small silver heart pendant. It looks delicate and beautiful, and judging by the look on Vi's face, she spent a lot of time picking it out.

You slowly reach into the box, lifting the necklace out of the tissue paper. You hold it up, letting the chain dangle from your fingers. It glints in the light, the pendants catching the glow from the Christmas tree lights.

Vi is still watching you, her eyes fixed on the necklace. “Do you like it?”

You look up from the necklace, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, I do,” you respond. “...It's beautiful.”

You hold the necklace in your hand, running your thumb over the pendant. Without even thinking, you reach up and clasp the necklace around your neck.

It fits snugly against your skin, the pendant resting on your collarbone.

You look up, catching Vi watching you as you adjust the necklace. “Looks good on you.”

“Thanks,” you reply, still running your thumb over the pendant.

Mylo and Powder both let out another chorus of ‘aww’ clearly touched by the sight.

Vi shoots them another glare, her eyes narrowing. “Would you two shut up, for Christ's sake?”

“Oh, come on, sis. It's cute” Powder teases.

“Ah, young love,” Silco says.

Vander chuckles, nodding his head. “I remember my younger days.”

“Don't you mean your younger hookups?”

Vander grins, holding his hands up. “Guilty as charged.”

Silco laughs, shaking his head. “Some things never change.” Then, he glances around the room, looking for who's turn it is next. “Lasty, who's next?”

You look around, seeing that almost everyone has given out their gift. It's obvious that your turn is next. “I'm up next.”

You get to your feet, making your way over to where the presents are. then you hold the present in your hands, not looking up quite yet. You can feel Vi's eyes on you.

This is it. You take a deep breath and look up, meeting her gaze.

You walk over to her, your heart beating faster. You feel nervous, but you try to push it down. You stop in front of her, holding out the present. “Here you go, babe.”

Vi's expression softens, her eyes darting down to the gift in your hands. She reaches out and grabs it, looking slightly puzzled.

You watch silently as she unwraps the gift.

“Is this... a sweater?” she asks, bewildered. It's clearly hand-knit, with uneven stitching and a clashing color scheme.

“I made it myself,”

“You made it? Like, with your own two hands?”

“Obviously...”

“I mean... it's…”

“It's hideous?” you suggest.

She winces, like she can't deny it. “Yeah, kinda…”

“Hey,” you say, mock-indignant. “I spent a lot of time making that, you know.”

“I can tell.”

“Then, try it on.”

Vi hesitates, looking at you warily. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” You nudge her. “Just try it on… for me.”

She sighs, realizing there's no way out of this. “Fine.”

She pulls it over her head, struggling to get her arms through the sleeves. The fit is awkward, and the sweater seems too small. But somehow, it kind of makes her look... cute?

She tugs at the sleeves, looking down at herself. “How do I look?”

You pretend to look her over, like you're seriously considering the question. “I dunno,” you reply. “it's... something.”

“Be serious. I look like an idiot, don't I?”

“Don't be like that” you tease, reaching out to straighten the collar of the sweater. “It's not that bad.”

“Not ‘that bad?’” she repeats. “Are you kidding? I look like a walking Christmas tree.” She groans, tugging at the sleeves again.

“I think you look…” cute. adorable. “Fine” “That's the best you've got? 'fine?'”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don't know… Something more than just ‘fine’”

“Okay, okay, let me rephrase that, you look…” beautiful, cute, adorable. “...very christmas-y”

“You really know how to boost a girl's ego.”

“I didn't realize you needed your ego stroked.”

“I don't,” she protests, flustered. “I'm just saying, a little bit more enthusiasm would be appreciated.”

Silco clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention. “Ahem, now that the present giving is concluded…”

Silence falls over the room as everyone waits for Silco to speak. The tick-tock of the grandfather clock is the only sound that can be heard.

Silco glances at the clock, a smile on his face. “It appears to be midnight,” he says, pausing for emphasis. “Which means…”

A chorus of “Merry Christmas!” rises up from the group, everyone sounding festive and cheerful.

You look back to Vi, who is still fiddling with the sweater. “Merry Christmas,” you whisper, not wanting the others to hear.

She glances at you, a smile touching her lips. “Merry Christmas to you too,” she replies, her voice just as quiet as yours.

Awkwardly you glance down at the carpet, unsure of what to say next.

“Hey,” she says suddenly. “Can I talk to you for a second…? In private?”

“Sure,” you agree, following her as she leads you away from the group.

She leads you into a small back room, closing the door behind her. The room is dimly lit, with only a few bare light bulbs lining the walls. Aside from a few boxes and some old crates, the room is empty.

She turns to face you, leaning against the wall. She's quiet for a moment, her gaze averted to the floor. you can tell she's trying to find the right words, fiddling with the hem of the sweater again.

“Listen,” she begins, finally meeting your eyes. “I know this is weird, and I know things are... difficult right now. But…” She pauses. “I just want to say one thing…”

“Go on,” you encourage.

“I…” she starts, then falters. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Her gaze drops to the floor. “Well, I just…” her fingers fumble at the edge of her sweater. “I just... I miss you.”

Your heart skips a beat as she finally says the words out loud.

You've been wanting her to say that for weeks, months even. After everything that's happened between the two of you, you desperately wanted to hear those very words fall from her lips. But now that she's saying it...

What the hell do you say to that?

You're speechless, stunned into silence by her honesty. You open your mouth, intending to say something. But words seem completely lost to you at this point. You just stand there, staring at her, dumbfounded.

“Say something,” she says. “Say anything. You're just staring at me like an idiot.”

“I don't know what to say.” Because, you really don't know what to say. You have so much you want to say, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat.

“Say you hate me. Say you never want to get back together. Just... say something.”

She's waiting. Waiting for something, anything. An opinion, a response. Anything from you. But what can you say? Do you tell her the truth—that you've missed her so much you can't even sleep at night? that the last month has felt like a living hell, having no contact with her?

You want to tell her that you hate her for throwing you away just to come back around wanting something from you again, but your tongue feels like cotton.

“Say something… yell at me, curse me out, anything!”

But her tone gets under your skin, and suddenly you feel the anger start to build inside of you.

Who does she think she is, demanding a response from you? she's the one who tossed you aside without a second thought. You're sick of this. You've done everything for her, given her everything she wanted, and here she is, pushing you for more.

It is too much—all too much. Without a word, you turn from her, heading toward the door. You can't do this anymore.

You hear her call out your name as you shove open the door, but you don't stop. You make your way back, stopping at Vander's side. “Vander, I'm going to head out.”

Vander nods, giving you a knowing look. He can tell something's going on, but he's wise enough not to press the issue. “Alright, kid,” he says gruffly. “Get some rest, yeah?”

You nod your head, forcing a smile onto your face. “Yeah, I'll try,” you say, giving him a wave before starting towards the exit.

When you pass by Silco, he gives you a curious look. You catch his gaze and give him a nod.

Finally, you make your way out the front door. The cold night air hits your face, making you shiver. You take a breath, preparing yourself for the walk home.

But then you hear the door swing open behind you, her footsteps hurry after you. “Wait!” her voice calls out. “Wait, stop!”

You keep walking, your steps quick. You're trying to get as far away from her as possible to outrun all of the feelings that came rushing back to you—

“Let me walk you home.”

Her words cut through your thoughts. You falter, your steps slowing down.

You stop walking, turning around to face her. “What?”

She's standing there, looking like a kicked puppy. Her shoulders are slumped, her expression sheepish. She can tell you're not happy she's followed you out here, but she looks like she doesn't care.

She lets out a huff, her breath coming out in a white cloud in the cold air. “I just... look, whatever happened in there, whatever happened between us... just let me look out for you. Just let me walk you home. I.. I have to know you're safe.”

“I don't need a babysitter.” You practically growl, your irritation obvious. “I can handle myself.”

Vi flinches at your words, but she doesn't back down. If anything, she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. “I know you can,” she says. “I'm not offering to babysit you. I'm just... I'm just asking to walk you home.”

You glance back at the entrance of their house, the warm lights and sounds spilling out into the cold night air. You turn back to look at her, your voice softer this time. “You don't have to walk me home. We don't have to keep up the act anymore, I'm going home and... you've got better things to do than worry about me.”

“Screw the act. I'm walking you home. It's not up for debate.”

You stare at her, baffled by her insistence. “Seriously? What's the point, Vi? We're not together anymore. Why bother?”

Her jaw clenches, her shoulders tensing. You know she hates this. She hates hearing you say it. Her heart is on her sleeve, and you're tearing pieces out of it, right in front of her.

“Because I care!” she snaps. “Maybe it's hard for you to believe, but I still care about you.”

You shake your head, scoffing at her words. “No, no, no, you don't get to act like you care now. You're the one who broke up with me. You're the one who walked away and left me.”

“I made a mistake,okay? I was a damn idiot, and I screwed up.”

“A mistake?” you echo, scoffing again. “You ended everything, and now you want to walk me home? What, you think that makes up for everything? You think it’s that easy? You threw away everything we had like it meant nothing, like all those months we spent together meant nothing.”

Your voice is trembling with anger as you continue. “And then what did you do? You went around, throwing yourself at anyone that gave you a second glance, like I was nothing. Like I never meant anything to you. Yeah, I know all about that. So don't try to act like you actually care when you clearly didn't give two shits.”

She looks away, her jaw clenching. “I was trying to get over you. I was trying to push you out of my head and it hurts like hell. Every night, every morning, it was like there was a hole inside of me, and no matter how hard I tried to fill it, no matter how many times I went out, how many times I tried to forget you, nothing worked. You were stuck in my head, and I hated it.”

She takes a step closer to you. “I know it sounds stupid. I know it doesn't make any sense. I just... I needed something to distract me, something to keep me from thinking about you. Because it hurt too damn much to think about how much I messed things up.”

“Yeah, congrats. You did a damn good job at distracting yourself, huh? It sure as hell didn't take you very long to get over me.”

She winces again, the guilt written all over her face. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to reach out to you. How many times I thought about coming back to you and begging you to take me back.”

“But you didn't,” you say. “You didn't reach out to me, you didn't try to fix things. So why should I believe you now? Why should I believe that you're sincere when you didn't care enough to fight for us before?”

She looks down, unable to meet your gaze. “What was I supposed to do?” she whispers. “I messed up. I messed things up and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to take back what I did, how to make things like they were before I messed up. All I know is that I miss you. I miss you so damn much, and I'd do anything to have you back.”

You swallow hard. Everything she's saying, it's everything you've wanted to hear for months. It feels like a dream.

But you can't let yourself fall back into this. Not when you've worked so hard to move on. Not when you've spent so many nights crying into your pillow, reminding yourself that she didn't care enough to fix things, to fight for you.

“Why now—Why do you want me back now, after all this time? Why didn't you want me back when it mattered, when I needed you?”

She looks up at you, desperation in her eyes. “Because I was an idiot! Because I was stupid, and scared, and I thought walking away would make it easier, but it just made it worse. Because I spent every damn night regretting that I let you go and wishing that I could take it all back. I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry for what I put you through.”

“Sorry doesn't fix things,” you say, your voice shaking. “Sorry doesn't take away the pain, sorry doesn't undo what you did.”

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I know saying sorry won't magically fix things, but I am sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for walking away, I'm sorry for everything I did wrong. Just... just give me a chance. Give me a chance to make things right.”

She takes another step forward, her eyes pleading. “Give me a chance. Let me prove to you that I love you and that I want to make things right. If I screw up again, you can toss me to the curb and never speak to me again. But please, just give me one more chance.”

“I don't know,” you murmur. “I just... I don't know.”

“I'll do anything. I'll get on my knees every day if I have to. I'll beg on my hands and knees. I'll crawl on my hands and knees. I'll grovel on the ground. Just... please, just give me one chance.”

“I'll think about it. Just...just give me some time to think things over.”

“Okay, okay. I'll give you time or whatever you need. Just please don’t shut me out completely.”

Without hesitation, she envelops you in a tight hug. Her arms wrap around your waist, her face burying into your neck. Her body clings to you, every part of her desperate and needy. “I miss you so much,” she mumbles.

You stand awkwardly, unsure of what to do. But then, your body betrays you, your arms slowly wrapping around her.

For the first time in a long while, you're holding her again. Her warmth, her scent, her touch—it’s all so familiar, so painfully familiar. So damn familiar that it hurts.

“I hate you.”

“I don't blame you.” She pulls back, her hands coming up to cup your face. She lifts her hand, brushing a lock of hair away from your face.

“I hate you so much,” you repeat, a tear falling down your cheek.

“I deserve that,” she says, her thumbs wiping away your tear.

“Damn right you do.”

You have no idea what to do or what to feel. Everything is a mess, and you're drowning in it.

For now, all you could do was hold her tight and bury your face in her shoulder.

You hated how good she felt against you and how right it felt to be held by her.

Damn her for making things so confusing, for making you feel so damn much.

You felt her hand rubbing your back, her fingers tracing circles over your skin. It was a soothing gesture, a silent apology for all the pain she had caused. It only made things worse, making your heart ache even more.

If only things had been different. If only she had been more communicative. If only she had been more sensitive to your feelings. If only she had been there for you when you needed her.

If only she hadn't walked away and left you broken. If only she hadn't hurt you the way she had.

And most of all, if only you had been strong enough to push her away and protect yourself from this mess.

But here you are, standing in the middle of a street wrapped in her arms. You felt like a fool, like a damn idiot, for still wanting her after everything.

You wanted to hate her, you wanted to make her suffer the way you had suffered.

But how could you hate her when she was looking at you like that? how could you hate her when she was holding you like this?

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she still had this kind of effect on you.

Her eyes met yours, and you saw everything you had missed, everything you had longed for. and you knew, right then, that you were in damn trouble.

—

In the window, Vander and Silco watched you and Vi from afar, the soft glow of the christmas lights casting shadows over their faces.

Silco takes a drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around him as he exhales. “Your little plan worked quite well,” he says, looking at Vander with a sly smile.

Vander just shrugs, sipping his drink. “I don't know what you are talking about,” he replies, keeping his expression neutral.

“You're not fooling anyone.”

Vander hums, taking another sip of his drink. “I don't know what you mean,” he says again, keeping his gaze locked on you and Vi.

Silco let out a puff of smoke. “Don't play coy, Vander. You knew damn well what you were doing when you rigged that secret santa.”

“I may have had a little influence,” he admits.

“A little influence? oh, don't downplay it. You wanted them back together, and you knew exactly how to make it happen.”

“I have had a hunch that they still cared about each other,” he says, his voice casual. “And plus, I don't want to see Vi moping around for the past months.”

“And we couldn't have that, could we? seeing her moping around like a lovestruck puppy.”

Vander nods. “She was really terrible at hiding it,” he says. “always pacing around, always looking like she lost a puppy.”

Silco takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing rings into the air. “It was painful to watch,” he says, shaking his head.

“It was like watching a kid trying to hide a secret… I just hope they figure things out.”

“I agree,” Silco says, his eyes flickering over to you and Vi. “Hopefully they can work things out.”

“Only time will tell.”

They watch in silence, seeing how you and Vi are still holding each other.

“I still wouldn't forgive you for that damn underwear you got me.”

“That was the funniest thing you could have received.”

Vander grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Silco. “I do not find it funny to receive underwear as a gift.”

notes: idk what is happening

#arcane #vi #arcane vi #vi arcane #violet arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #vi x reader #vi x female reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi imagines #violet x reader #I LOVE SILCO AND VANDER #fluff #angst #found family #christmas

3K notes · View notes

piastri-fvx · 23 days ago

Text

Paper Rings. Oscar Piastri.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x singer! reader, smau

Summary: When Oscar is clearly a fan and not exactly trying to hide it.

Face Claim: Sabrina Carpenter

Disclaimer/s: nonee!!

A/N: I'M BACKKKKK!! TYSM for 100 Followers AHHHH!! hope u enjoy and let me know if u wanna be added to my tag list <333 inspired by the taylor song, obv :)))

masterlist.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, user1, y/n.fan, gracieabrams and others

yourusername thank you for the memories, london ❤️

| view all comments...

user1 please y/n my heart can't take it. i'm too in love u

-> user2 we all are bby

user3 unreal

user4 dead

-> user5 y/n, ONE CHANCE PLSSSS

user6 her husband is so lucky

-> user7 realest thing of 2025

user8 people died (it's me, i am people)

oscarpiastri 😍😍😍

-> user9 oscar fangirling piastri

-> user10 slay

user11 drop the album twin 🎀

user12 WOW

-> user13 i want her so bad

pinterest do you do weddings? as the bride? (pls say yes, admin is in love) ♥︎ by author

-> yourusername we're already married baby

-> user14 if pinterest says that, it means something

user15 please step on me

@y/n.updates

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4 and others

y/n.updates Formula 1 driver Oscar Piastri was spotted leaving y/n latest concert in Melbourne 🤭

| view all comments...

user1 he looks so cuteeee awwww

user2 he's giving polite cat again lollll

-> user3 he's such a cutie patootie 😔

user4 greats news for the unemployed 🙄

-> user5 girl stop hating and get a life wtf

user6 oh to be y/n

user7 i just know that was the best day of his life

-> user8 he's such a fan 😭

user9 @mclaren admin pls ask him about it 🥺🥺🥺

-> user10 admin has to deliver now 😔

user11 probably sang his soul out

user12 is there any information about them possibly meeting?

-> user13 like backstage? not yet, i think

@mclaren

liked by oscarpiastri, lando, charles_leclerc and others

mclaren you asked, we delivered! check out the newest mclaren youtube video to find out all about osc's experience at his favorite singers concert

| view all comments...

user1 they're finally feeding us

user2 "she's even prettier in real life," OSCAR??? PIASTRI?????

-> user3 he is soooo in love

user4 literally gone for her and she's not even his girlfriend lmao

-> user5 we lost him chat 🥀

user6 "she smiled at me once and i was internally freaking out." MAMA Y PAPA

user7 just get married already bro 😝

-> user8 that should be me 💔

yourusername invites to a gp when? (i wanna meet oscar :)) ♥︎ by author

-> oscarpiastri i think i just died ♥︎ by author

-> mclaren check your dms, y/n!

-> yourusername @oscarpiastri don't die, you're so sexy ahahhah ♥︎ by author

-> user9 not her quoting a literal meme-

-> oscarpiastri i'm gonna go cry ♥︎ by author

user10 the way he was blushing and looking so shyyyyyy my heartttttt

user11 my world are colliding

-> user12 how tf did i not know he's a y/n stan too 😭

lando i want an invite to the wedding ♥︎ by author

user13 dropped my phone

-> user14 valid af sis

@yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, mclaren and others

yourusername wait, is this the sport where the cars go vroom vroom? 🧡

| view all comments...

user1 poetic lolllll

user2 landoscar awwwww 🥺

-> user3 literally makes me so happy

lando best friend 😝 ♥︎ by author

-> oscarpiastri hey!! ♥︎ by author

-> user4 not osc getting jealous 😭

-> yourusername @lando if i was a guy, i'd be gay for you 😍

-> user5 is that sarcasm?

user6 SLAYYYYY

user7 SUPER HUMAN 😍😍😍

-> user8 literally WOW

user9 she's a busy woman ♥︎ by author

-> yourusername this is my new fav comment, it's going into the story 🥰

-> user9 WOKE UP TO THIS WHATTTTTT

gracieabrams miss u babe ♥︎ by author

-> yourusername miss u more baby

user10 u did more for me than my therapist (sorry linda) ♥︎ by author

user11 why is no one talking about the fact that oscar finally met his future wife???

-> user12 real does nobody care anymore of what

user13 gorgeous

@yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, gracieabrams, madelyncline and others

yourusername i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings ❤️

| view all comments...

oscarpiastri future wife 😍 ♥︎ by author

-> yourusername i love youuuuuuu

-> user1 AM I HALLUCINATING????

user2 screaming

user3 osc hard launch???

-> user4 like HELLO.

user5 MOM AND DAD LOVE EACH OTHER

-> user6 FINALLY

user7 please please please someone frame this

user8 THE PIC OF THEM AND THEN AND THEN. THE PIC OF OSC??? AND- HELPPPPP AHSHDJKDKDKDNDKD

-> user9 I'M DEADDDD

user10 yes please

user11 may a love like this find me

user12 oh i bet oscar did some (a lot) manifesting methods

-> user13 he was NOT risking anything bro

user14 the fact that obsessing actually worked 😭😭😭

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

tags!

@freyathehuntress

A/N: been gone for over a month... oops 😭 anyways, i'm back now and i hope to be more produtive for you guys!! <333

1K notes · View notes

softbabybelle · 6 months ago

Note

make the new fic a series thank

corruption 002. 𓍯𓂃 r ֶָ֢cameron

rafe cameron x shy!reader

𝜗𝜚 summary : you've been avoiding rafe since your shared moment in his bedroom and he's been trying to reach out to you by every means possible. of course he finds you at a fucking glitter party.

𝜗𝜚 words : 2.6k

𝜗𝜚 c!w : drinking, weed, icky men, use of 'slut', violence, swearing, suggestive.

part 1, part 3.

to say you'd been avoiding rafe cameron was putting it very, very lightly.

you hadn't uttered a word of the moment let alone the kiss you'd shared with your best friend's older brother to anybody. much less to sarah. you were sure she'd murder you both before you could finish the sentence.

but you couldn't help it, the kiss had plagued your memory.

it stung when you tried to think of anything else. you were so buzzed, a floaty feeling as your head turned to nothing but pure fuzz. rafe's hands were big and warm, fitting around your waist like a glove and his lips oh so soft. you'd never kissed anyone before him, and you were sure now that you never again wanted to kiss anyone but him.

rafe had a pretty good idea why, though was still slightly confused to your sudden detachment.

he knew you were shy, practically cowering in on yourself when any attention was directed your way. he knew he was pushing you, all but forcing your hand when offering you a blunt and not wasting a minute asking are you sure? before crashing his lips into yours.

though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't growing frustrated with the sudden radio silence.

he walked through the doors of kelce's house. he'd been here a number of times, especially for events just like the one tonight.

rafe had to hand it to him. kelce knew how to throw a house party.

despite the blaring music around him and the glitter that was swarming him, all he could think of was you. he'd tried getting a hold of you on various occasions but it was as if you'd fallen off the map. he wondered why you hadn't visited sarah until he found her in the kitchen, stating that she was off to your house.

meaning you had been avoiding him. hell, you'd been avoiding tannyhill altogether.

"man, my fucking eyes." rafe actually had to hold a hand to his eyes when he took sight of topper. kelce had been trying this new thing where he added a 'theme' to each of his houseparty's. tonight's theme was glitter.

topper's face was decorated in gold glitter, swarming through the golden locks of his hair and dripping onto his white shirt. "where's your glitter?"

an annoyed squint was all he offered. "i'm not putting that shit on me."

"kelce isn't gonna be happy. we're supposed to be supporting this whole 'theme' thing." rafe rolled his eyes as topper spoke. they moved through the house, making their way to the living room where most the party was.

kelce's house was huge and the kook's sure as hell filled it.

"dude." the sight of kelce filled his vision. he was seated on the couch, his arm strewn across the back, around some girl rafe didn't care to know the name of. "where's your glitter?"

but his words fell on deaf ears.

rafe's eyes were too busy travelling across the room, landing on you.

you weren't sitting on the couch with your friends or the chairs behind you. you were seated on the carpet, hands playing with a dainty bracelet that you often wore on your wrist. rafe wondered for a moment were you messing with it to soothe the anxiety he knew was bubbling in you. you didn't often come to things like these.

you were dressed in a white, almost silverish dress with two thin straps winding around your shoulders. he swore you never showed so much skin in public, usually a cardigan drawn over you.

pink glitter dusted your hair and he could see it faintly tracing your skin along with your eyelids and your nails painted the same glittery pink.

he was almost getting sick of the glitter everywhere, but you seemed to be changing his mind on the matter.

the chatter continued through the room and they quickly turned their attention away from rafe. you, however, couldn't seem to. you felt your cheeks heat up at the mere sight of him.

how could you ever look him in the eyes again? especially after that night. you'd been so desperate, asking him with a please to kiss you. you'd rutted your hips subconsciously against him, all doey eyed and all but begging for his lips. you'd never done such a thing, acted such a way. you were sure you could never face him ever again after it.

but rafe only took that as a challenge.

you watched as he walked towards you, plopping onto the free armchair you'd chosen to sit next to. like this, he could have fooled himself into thinking you were sitting pretty on your knees for him.

"hey, sweetheart." his tone was a soft greeting, lips playing into a quirk.

a squeaked out "hi." was his response before you whipped your head away from him, turning red in the face. the colour of your cheeks almost matched the glitter in your hair.

"leave her alone." sarah was dressed in a shimmery gold dress, almost the same shape as yours. it was apparent that you'd been matching. yet she also found a way to match with her boyfriend, same golden glitter decorating her face as his did. "she doesn't need you following her around like a dog."

rafe rolled his eyes, watching his sister blow out the smoke from a blunt and pass it off to her boyfriend. it appeared as though two blunts were going around the circle gathered in the middle of the living room. most people at the party were off doing their own thing. they wouldn't dare join.

"it's―it's okay, sarah." your meek words caused sarah's brows to furrow while rafe's face only went slack, a smirk filled with pride falling across his lips.

you didn't often speak up to sarah.

but you did, for him. perhaps it was just a quiet argument, nothing extreme. but to rafe? well he thought you ought to gain a reward.

"y/n?" your eyes snapped across the room to a boy on the couch. rafe believed his name was max, dark hair and dark eyes, shorter than himself. "you want a pull?"

a breathy giggle passed your lips as your cheeks turned pink for a reason nobody but rafe knew. "no, thank you." was your gentle response.

good girl rafe uttered in his head.

as if on cue, your eyes glanced up at him where he sat on the armchair. he gave you the smallest of nods, one not perceptible to anyone but you.

and you knew as you squirmed on your knees that you'd done the right thing.

"please." a huffed laugh fell from sarah. "y/n would have to be possessed by satan himself before she'd touch weed."

again, your eyes flickered back to rafe, this time more hesitantly.

he had this amused look on his face, as if he could read you so well. and he could. perhaps that was the scary part. these people surrounding you, they'd known you for forever. sarah was your best friend, you were closer with nobody else in the world, you told her all your filthy secrets and she shared all of hers.

but rafe... it was rafe who seemed to know you the most out of everyone in the entire room.

he was aware of your filthy little secret, not sarah.

she was completely naive to you sitting in her brothers room, atop his lap, glazed over eyes as you begged him over and over again to kiss you, a blunt being passed between you two.

a shaky breath left your lips and you stood. "'m gonna go get a drink."

"there's juice in the fridge!" kelce called after you, knowing you wouldn't actually dare drink any of the other beverages he had to offer. alcohol simply wasn't your 'scene'.

apparently weed was.

you didn't actually make it to the kitchen, though. rafe stopped you in the hallway before you could, his large hand coming to wrap around your upper arm.

skin on skin.

your head felt suddenly floaty. "shit." he let go of your arm once you were backed against the wall, swallowing thickly. "there's fuckin' glitter everywhere." wiping his hands against his jeans, coating it with pink glitter.

you frowned at his words. "'s on theme." you mumbled.

you were acutely aware of how trapped you were, between the wall and rafe's towering body. you never realised how tall he was until he was so close to you. "why are you avoiding me, huh?"

you couldn't look at him. you couldn't be this close. you couldn't. you couldn't. you couldn't.

all you could think of was his hands on your waist, his lips on your own. you could have let out a whimper at the mere flashback. "'m not."

"don't give me that shit, princess." his two fingers hooked under your chin, forcing your eyes to look up at him. this is when you panicked, eyes turning wide as saucers, top lip biting your bottom, as much as he'd told you to stop beforehand. "what, you're gone all shy 'cause you knew you wanted me to fuck you, is that it?"

for the first time, words slipped so easily from you. "rafe!" hands reached up, trying to cover his mouth.

you should've known better than that, though.

his hand swiftly grabbed your wrist, pushing it downwards. you were sure it'd leave a mark by morning. in a strange way, you hoped it did. a mark of his fingers digging into your skin. like his touch would still be there by the time you woke in your bed.

"scared people'll hear, huh? scared they won't think you're the good girl you're pretendin' to be?" he tilted his head gauging your reactions. "asked you a question, angel."

his grip tightened on your wrist and you couldn't help but whimper out, "yes." aware of the many bodies surrounding you, anyone could have easily spotted you two.

perhaps that was the upside to kelce inviting every single person to have ever lived on figure eight to his house parties. they were a bunch of nobodies. they didn't know you and you didn't know them. they didn't matter. what mattered was rafe, standing right in front of you, bending down lower so his lips could reach your ear.

"worried what they think, huh? 'n 'm the only one in this whole fuckin' house who knows who you are." suddenly his fingers softened against your chin, rough hold loosening while his fingers traced gently across your cheek. "so worried about what they think of you. y'can still be my good girl, yeah?"

you swore then and there that rafe had ripped every pretty thought that had ever developed in your head.

you were totally and utterly dumb.

and all you could offer him was a haste nod.

"y/n?" rafe allowed his hands to fall away from your skin at the sound of your name being called. you blinked, trying to come back to reality after rafe had messed you up completely. you were met with the sight of max, looking dangerously between the two of you. "he bothering you?"

you looked up at rafe in confusion while the blonde boy merely made a scowl at max. "wh―no, no he's not bothering me." your voice was sickly sweet, innocence radiating off it.

you didn't understand max's intentions.

that was why you were safe with rafe, who would make sure no man ever got to act on such thoughts.

none but himself. of course.

"come outside 'n smoke a blunt with me, then, yeah?" once again, your brows furrowed at his words. you didn't really know max all that well, just that he was a newfound friend of topper's. he moved to the outerbanks not too long ago.

"dude, are you deaf?" it was rafe who responded, instinctively standing out further than you, almost as if he were shielding you from the boy. "she said no, what―five fuckin' minutes ago?"

max's eyes squinted. "listen, with all due respect, wasn't fucking talking to you."

rafe's lips quirked upwards, tongue digging into his cheek. you looked nervously between the boys. "yeah, well you're talkin' to me now. fuck off 'n find someone else to go smoke a blunt with, yeah?"

"think i'll take this one, actually." you felt the boy reach out for you, grabbing your upper arm and dragging you forward. you stumbled as he did so, his grip made from seemingly iron.

rafe's face dropped almost instantly. his eyes glared at the hand that held you. his eyes flickered up to your face, head bent, nervously biting your bottom lip while your face contorted into a kind of stinging pain. "get your fucking hands off of her."

"yeah?" max suddenly pulled you closer, hitting your back against his chest. your eyes went wide as they looked for rafe's. you wouldn't admit it aloud, but sudden white hot fear filled your chest. "or what?"

a breathy chuckle left rafe's lips as he nodded to himself. it was almost as if he were mulling a thought over. it didn't take him long to decide.

max didn't get to let out another word before rafe was throwing a punch across his face, knocking the breath out of him.

the boy stumbled backwards, shouting out a swear and clutching his face. you felt rafe's hands immediately win you back, pulling you closer to him as your breath picked up. your eyes glanced around the house, a hundred eyes suddenly all looking at you. you didn't like this. you didn't like any of this at all. and it was all your fault.

"rafe." you practically whimpered out, hand tugging at his sleeve. you could feel tears welling in your waterline. "please, let's just g―"

"take her." max was wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand. "don't fucking want the slut anyw―"

it was safe to say that max didn't get to finish his sentence because before you could do anything to stop it, rafe was discarding you. he was practically on top of max within a blink of an eye.

you called out for rafe, begging him to stop.

you didn't want any of this, and it was all your fault.

panic filled you and suddenly there was too much air in your lungs. you felt wet hot tears against your cheeks and you tried getting rafe to stop but too many people were surrounding you now, enclosing in on you.

people knew you were shy. you didn't like meeting new people or talking in groups.

but it went so much deeper than that.

the people surrounding you made your head fuzzy. the loud noises of screaming and yelling, some telling him to stop, some egging him on further. it was all beginning to get too much and you couldn't feel yourself breathe.

you only allowed yourself to leave out a breath when topper and kelce came running through the crowd, pushing people apart to get to rafe. they all but pulled the blonde boy off of max, kelce holding him by his chest and telling him to relax.

you couldn't actually hear anything, you could just see lips moving.

everything was a blur.

rafe was yelling back at kelce, half explaining-half shouting past him to max.

he didn't stop until his gaze reached your watery eyes.

"rafe!" you could hear sarah yelling from beside you. "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

you wanted to stay to help the boy. oh you did dearly. he'd done so much for you already. but you were a coward and the panic in your chest, the frosty fear in your stomach. it wasn't going to simmer away while you stared at rafe, hands all bloody and knuckles split.

so you turned.

and you ran from it. from all of it. from him.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #soft!rafe cameron #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron x y/n #obx #softbabybelle #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #outerbanks #outerbanks x reader #rafe cameron outerbanks #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron comfort #rafe cameron x reader smut #rafe cameron x reader fluff

2K notes · View notes

sprenthecreator · 17 days ago

Text

P.S.T INTERLUDES. 2 | Deep in the Willow

Male reader x Seulgi, Wendy

10.2k words

tags: sorrow( :( ), whipped cream, threesome, anal, fucktoy wendy

━•✦•━•✦•━

"So? How's Europe?"

Rina was on the other side of the screen on FaceTime with you. She was in London, the second stop on the European leg of Aespa's tour. The cute angel looked tired, her hair loose and somewhat disheveled, already dressed in the blue pajamas she loved as she spoke to you at length about her recent experiences.

"And god, Minjeong has been clingier than usual!" Rina said in an exasperated tone. "Not having you around makes it a damn group task to keep her from going crazy."

"Speaking of not having any of us around…" You took a moment to consider the words, aware of how sensitive the subject was for everyone. "How's the new manager? I imagine the change hasn't been easy."

Rina's expression darkened as she looked down. It pained her to remember that Jihye was no longer her manager as much as it pained you to not have her by your side.

"Well… he's not Jihye, but he takes good care of us," Rina looked up. "At least he doesn't ask me to give him head. That's good."

You both burst out laughing at the memory.

"You can't complain, though," you pointed out. "That little favor led to those nights in Miami. I wouldn't trade anything for it."

"That's true," Rina smiled, and you heard her bedroom door open. "We have to do that again. You know, when the tide goes out a little."

"Jimin-ah!" you heard Minjeong say. "It's supposed to be girls' night and you're here. You said we'd watch Little Women!"

"Coming, coming!" Rina said. She squealed when one of the girls tickled her as a threat. "We were just catching up! We're leaving now."

Minjeong pulled Rina away from her own phone to say hello. Ning and then Aeri joined her on either side to do the same.

"How have you been, darling?" Ning asked.

Damn, what a question. How were you? Being in the eye of the storm day after day hadn't let you stop and think about it. It seemed crazy, but it wasn't. You didn't really know how you were. That's what happened when you were busy all the time: your mental health took a backseat, like going on autopilot through life. Honestly, you didn't know if that was good or bad.

"I've been fine, dear," you opted to say. "At least I'd like to think so."

Minjeong took the whole frame to herself.

"Any news about Jihye?" she asked, hoping for good news.

Another difficult question. Only you were expecting that one, and you were dreading it. You couldn't blame Minjeong for asking it; after all, she must still be feeling guilty about the whole thing.

Three months had passed since the events at the airport, and aside from rumors that were just rumors and the occasional leaked message from Gunwook, Jihye's existence had come to feel like a mere dream. Something that was once too good and beautiful to be true. Something that had been taken away from you.

Because yes, she was taken away from you. From you and the girls.

You took a deep breath and searched your phone for the last message Gunwook had given you about her.

"And I quote: Jihye and Irene are fine," you said. "She misses the girls and is constantly watching fancams and supporting them from Seoul. She also wanted me to tell you all that technically she was still your boss, just a few steps above you. So you better not disappoint her."

When you exited the messaging app and zoomed in on FaceTime again, you were met with faces full of mixed emotions.

"Oh… okay," Minjeong said. "Well, it's good to know we still have her support."

"I really miss her…" Ning added softly.

And a silence fell between you.

"I'll keep you updated, I promise," you said after a few seconds. "But right now you have a movie to watch and I have work to do."

The girls said their goodbyes one by one, Rina being the last. And so, your video call with the girls ended.

Bringing you back to the harsh and exhausting reality.

Shortly after the pool party, work had you by the throat with a grip that wouldn't loosen. Just as Gunwook and Jihye had anticipated some time ago, the level of paranoia among the upper management after the incident with the reporter had skyrocketed. Now they had you hunting down college boys and forcing them to cut off all contact with idols or trainees from their companies.

Interestingly, JYP was the complete opposite, considerably more flexible and permissive. They were somewhat strict, as you'd expect, but they were everything the other agencies weren't: humane. That confirmed to you that all this time, Gunwook had indeed been on the right side of history and was truly putting his effort into his fight to give idols decent lives. Thank god he was winning it.

That was a relief, because over the past three months, the two of you had become more than just coworkers; you could now call each other a friend. It would have been a shame to throw that away if he had turned out to be another heartless maniac.

And speaking of JYP, ITZY started preparing for their world tour not long after the pool party.

The stress was making them all miserable, but it was Lia who, sadly, finally gave in to the pressure and requested a hiatus so she could take care of her mental health after so many years of working day and night nonstop. She would be close to her family, right where she needed to be to heal, so you remained calm about it, knowing everything would be okay for her.

But that didn't mean you didn't miss her like crazy. Lia was one of those rays of sunshine who always helped you move forward, and now it was the ray of sunshine who needed help to move forward. It broke your heart, and you couldn't do anything but pray for her return as soon as possible.

Other than that, the only thing you could do while the girls were all on tour was throw yourself into your new job. Nayeon and Chaeyeon had been trying to distract you from that from time to time, and while they had usually succeeded, the most common thing was for you to joke about them having to make an appointment with your receptionist first.

The same receptionist who, at that time of the afternoon, was helping you with your notes. Being on the dirty side of the industry, Gunwook had suggested you keep a file as a burn book, and one of the day's tasks had basically been to update the records to stay current.

Of course, you weren't stupid. The file contained a long list of many things the agencies wanted kept secret that only a few of you knew, so the most sensible thing was to give code names to each of the idols involved in each case. Western names, mostly. And the password for that file was saved in a notebook in your personal safe.

You were just doing that last thing. But as you were entering the safe combination to store the notebook, your phone vibrated on your desk. Gunwook was the one calling.

It wasn't uncommon for him to call at that time of the afternoon, so you quickly assumed he'd either invite you over for drinks and karaoke, or invite you over to his house to show off his collection of fine liquors. So you took the call without fear.

"Hello?" you answered, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you continued doing what you were doing.

"Hey man," Gunwook said. "Look, I hate to make this call, but it's best to give you a heads-up."

Well, and there went all your hope for a peaceful, normal call.

"You're going to get a call soon, from my namesake at HYBE. I'm sure you remember him from the airport."

"Uh… yeah, I remember him. Unfortunately," you said, closing the safe and signaling for your receptionist to leave.

"Well, what he's going to ask you to do tomorrow is probably the most messed up thing you've done so far."

"Gunwook, you're scaring me," You sat up straighter in your seat and leaned back.

"Tomorrow you'll have to go to the HYBE building, using the same underground parking garage as always so as not to attract attention. And listen to me carefully," his tone became more imperative, but also lower. "You can't, and you won't, talk to the girl you're picking up. She'll be wearing a mask, cap and sunglasses, so you won't know who she is."

Suddenly, a chill ran through you. The words stuck in your mouth, and already feeling anxious, you stood up to pace slowly around your office.

"Look, this shit sounds wrong, Gunwook. What the fuck am I getting myself into?"

"You're going to take her to a clinic, and before you get her out, you're going to make sure there's only the necessary personnel inside for her… operation."

"So much secrecy for a simple cosmetic surgery?" you asked. "I've already taken idols to appointments like that. What's the difference here?"

"This isn't plastic surgery we're talking about, kid," Gunwook said, his voice shaking throughout the sentence.

That alone was enough to make reality hit you like a speeding truck. The chills returned, and with them the unpleasant feeling of your stomach crumpling like a cardboard bag.

"You don't have to say anything else, Gun," you said. "The topic is difficult for me to broach, let alone for you with your religious beliefs."

"You have no idea," Gunwook sighed. "The decision wasn't mine, but my priest will definitely find out about this at my next confession."

There was a much-needed silence between you.

"I know this is heavy, kid," Gunwook began again, his voice calmer now. "But we need you to be a professional tomorrow. With something this delicate, you're going to be under scrutiny all day, and yes, they're going to be on your trail too. I also recommend you don't write this down in your notes; it'll be like it never happened."

Just as he finished speaking, you received a second call. An unknown number. It had to be him.

"It's happening, dude," you said. "I'll call you back later."

"Sure. Good luck, bro. And God bless."

With that, you hung up on Gunwook and answered the other one.

As you expected, the HYBE representative told you everything Gunwook had already told you you would do, but lacked the tact with which your friend spoke about it. He even mentioned that the root of the problem had been this girl and her stupid boyfriend not using protection. To the surprise of no one.

The son of a bitch sounded like a robot: not a hint of emotion as he talked about the matter. He didn't sound worried, or disturbed, or anything. He didn't care at all. It was fucking sickening to hear him talk, especially since he talked about the girl—whom you decided to call Rosemary—as if she were a damn animal.

All you could hope for was that one day karma would knock on that bastard's door and force him to testify.

The weight of what was going to happen tomorrow fell heavily and oppressively on your shoulders on the ride home. You were one of those who believed that women could do whatever they wanted with their bodies, and that the decision was solely theirs. But in this case, you felt like the decision was everyone's but hers.

For the love of God, poor girl.

Much to your chagrin, you had to swallow all your worries and go with the flow. You were in the middle of a war, and as low and mean as that seemed to you, there were battles better lost. So tomorrow you'd be a good soldier and do whatever was asked of you.

But fuck. Poor girl. All because she was an imperfect human, like you and everyone else. The only difference was that, in Rosemary's case, she'd chosen the wrong industry in which to make mistakes.

The next morning, you arrived punctually at the meeting point designated by the HYBE representative: the underground entrance to the main building, which was accessible only with prior authorization. You parked right in front of the exit, as instructed.

Anxiety was eating away at you from the inside. Over time, you'd trained your stomach to cope with the pressure of dealing with these kinds of situations. But this absolutely surpassed all extremes. There was nothing about it that felt right or normal.

The demons didn't keep you waiting long. A couple of minutes after your arrival, a security guard came out, escorting a girl who perfectly matched the description Gunwook had given you. Rosemary hurried to follow the path the security guard indicated, head down and arms crossed as she was ushered into the backseat of the sedan you had rented for the day.

When the girl settled into the seat, the guard closed the door and approached your window, which you had to roll down. He bent down and rested a forearm on the edge of the window.

"Look, kid, I don't think I need to remind you how crucial it is that everything goes smoothly today," his tone of voice was subtle and kind, but you could see in his eyes that he was trying to intimidate you. "You can't, and you won't screw this up. There will be zero tolerance."

He then took a folded piece of paper out of his front jacket pocket and handed it to you.

"That's the address you'll be going," he pointed as you opened the paper. "Don't even think about using the GPS. Just follow the street signs."

"Understood," you nodded. "There'll be no problem."

"Good. Get out of here."

The guard stepped back and signaled for you to get going.

According to the address they'd given you, and according to your calculations, it would take you around 15 minutes to get there. 15 minutes in which you'd have to deal with the awkward silence inside the car, because you couldn't talk to her, and you also couldn't play music because it would be too out of place.

It was going to be a fucking horrible ride.

There was a huge chasm between you and Rosemary. No connection at all. When you got a taxi, the driver would at least try to make conversation once in a while, or play the radio at a considerable volume to keep the atmosphere pleasant. But at that moment, all you were forced to hear was the sound of the engine running and the air conditioning. Nothing else. It was unbearable. And it must have been even worse for her.

The worst part wasn't that, but the uncomfortable feeling that you weren't transporting a sentient person. The mask, the cap, the sunglasses, and the fact that she remained silent the entire trip certainly didn't help either. Rosemary was being treated like a disposable object, and that was exactly the feeling all of this gave you. Fuck, you just wanted it to end soon.

Your calculations were correct, and you arrived at the clinic about 15 minutes later. It wasn't exactly a seedy place, but it wasn't the kind of clinic a famous person would go to for medical problems.

"Stay here for a moment, please," you said to Rosemary, breaking the silence after all that time. "I'll pick you up right away."

Rosemary didn't say anything, just nodded distractedly.

Getting out of the car, you went straight into the clinic and followed the protocol they'd given you to the letter. You'd been told the staff was already aware of everything, so your job was to make sure everyone remembered the importance of everything running smoothly that day. Part of the job also involved questioning the nurses specifically, to prevent any potential leaks. You weren't going to be in charge of the doctors; coercing them would be the job of your superiors.

After making sure the staff was trustworthy, you left the clinic and opened the car door for Rosemary to get out. Then you escorted her inside, looking in every possible direction for onlookers. But even four eyes in your back couldn't have saved you from the car that was parking behind yours at that very moment. Instantly, a man you didn't recognize got out.

Then you remembered what Gunwook had told you: 'They're going to be on your trail too.'

Fuck, they were good. More than once, you'd looked in the car's rearview mirror to see if anyone was following you, and not once had you seen that car. Terrifying.

You simply motioned for Rosemary to walk inside. You followed her.

The nurses quickly took care of her, directing you to sit and wait on some benches near the reception desk. Anxious for everything to go well and your heart pounding, you nodded and sat down for a wait that seemed like an eternity. You weren't one to overthink things, but hundreds of ways this could somehow go wrong ran through your mind.

Fortunately, the doctor came out of the operating room half an hour later to tell you that everything had gone perfectly, and that she would be discharged in about an hour. Only then did you allow yourself to relax.

"So…" the doctor folded his hands behind his back. "About the payment?"

"Uhm…" you frowned. You had assumed HYBE had already taken care of that.

The doctor and you turned your heads toward the clinic entrance when the man who'd parked behind you walked in, a duffle bag in his hand, presumably full of money.

"Every won is in here, doc," the man said, placing the duffle bag on the ground. "With a little something extra as a thank you for your professionalism."

"Thank you," the doctor bowed and took the bag without hesitation.

"Now you know the drill: I need every tool you used to dispose of them. Including what was already discarded."

"Sure," the doctor nodded.

He turned to signal one of the nurses, who shortly returned with everything packed in vacuum-sealed ziplock bags, which were then handed to the HYBE man.

"Excellent. Pleasure doing business," the HYBE man now turned to you. "You're almost there, kid. Keep going and don't do anything stupid. I have plans tonight, and I wouldn't want to cancel because I have to clean up your messes."

"Whatever you say, man," you replied, already mentally exhausted, perhaps in a less than friendly tone. "I know what I'm doing."

"You better."

The man then turned around and left the way he'd come in. A few seconds later, you heard his car start and speed off down the street.

An hour passed until Rosemary finally emerged from the operating room, flanked by two nurses who had been guiding her.

The sight of the poor girl broke your heart.

Rosemary walked with her head down, slightly hunched over, hugging herself, her steps somewhat unsteady. As she got closer, you could notice her hands were shaking. In another context, you would have assumed she had some kind of severe concussion, but on second thought, the apple didn't fall too far from the tree.

For the love of god, what the hell was wrong with the world? That was exactly what a girl whose decision about her body had been ignored, trampled on, and spat on looked like. You would have said she looked fragile, but no.

That girl was already broken.

"All set to go, ma’am?" you asked one of the nurses.

"Yes, sir," a nurse nodded. "Make sure she doesn't get too agitated."

"It'll be no problem, thank you very much," you motioned for Rosemary to walk ahead of you. "Good afternoon."

And so, in a matter of minutes, you were back at the HYBE building, a journey that was uneventful but had left you feeling unpleasantly sick.

When you parked in front of the same underground entrance, you heard a girl talking. You thought it was someone outside the car, but when you listened closely, you realized it was Rosemary talking. Some medication must have loosened her tongue.

"This is bullshit," Rosemary said to herself with a chuckle. "I didn't do anything the other girls didn't do. Nothing. I just had bad luck. It's fucking bullshit…"

Your orders were not to speak to the girl, and you did your best to hold your tongue.

"I probably would have made that decision myself," Rosemary continued. "But it all happened so fast I didn't even have time to think about it."

There was another long pause. The HYBE employee was taking his considerable time appearing.

"So much work… so much effort put into all of this," Rosemary's voice cracked, and even you could feel the lump in her throat. "It was my dream. Fuck… it was my dream…" she sobbed. "All wasted for 20 minutes under the covers. I'm an idiot."

Your stomach lurched. You looked out the window, biting your nails, your face dismayed. It was so painful to hear her blame herself, so heartbreaking, that you couldn't help but glance at her in the rearview mirror.

"Hey, you can still debut," you said. "You'll be able to handle all of this, I'm sure. Lean on your other trainees…"

Rosemary started laughing through her tears.

"I can tell you're new on this side of the pond," she mocked. "A little naive and too sweet. I appreciate your concern, but my fate is already sealed. The company agreed to settle my debt in exchange for signing an NDA, and then they'll fabricate a bullying scandal in my name to get me out of the group. Simple as that."

Then finally, the same HYBE employee from a few hours ago came out to pick up Rosemary.

"Wait a second here," he said as Rosemary got out of the car.

The man motioned for Rosemary to come inside the building with him. And that was the last time you saw her.

He returned a few minutes later, carrying a duffle bag similar to the one given to the doctor, but not much smaller. He placed it on the passenger seat.

"Good job today, kid," he said, and without further ado, he walked back inside.

When the man disappeared from your sight, you opened the bag a little to confirm what it was: money, and quite a bit of it. As always, it was going to be a pain to declare it to the tax authorities, but thanks to Gunwook, you had made some contacts that would make things easier.

However, money was the least of your problems at that moment.

Despite having already finished the job, the bad feeling wouldn't go away. Not even when on the way home you'd put on some music in the car to try to wash your brain of the memories of that day. It was useless; you were on autopilot, unable to feel good even knowing that none of it was your fault and that there was nothing you could have done to prevent it.

It was a call from Gunwook that brought you back to reality at a stoplight.

"Hi," you answered halfheartedly.

"Hey bro, how are you holding up?" Gunwook asked.

You sighed, staring blankly at the red light. A light drizzle had begun to fall at that time of the afternoon, even though it was almost October and the rainy season had already passed.

"How do you think?"

"Sure, it was a stupid question, sorry."

"Nah, you good."

"I don't feel much better than you, if that helps, but hey, did you eat already?"

"I plan on doing it when I get home. I don't feel like stopping to eat anywhere right now."

"You can come over tonight if you want," Gunwook said. "You know, we'll grill some steaks and have a drink, and my wife can make us a salad."

"Honestly, I think what I need is time at home. I…"

"That'll work!" Gunwook interrupted. "I can take the steaks and beer over there."

"Gun, I appreciate it, but no. I just want to unwind."

"Well… okay," Gunwook finally relented, hesitantly. "Anyway, I'm just a phone call away, buddy."

"I know, thanks. Have a nice afternoon."

You hung up and waited a few more seconds until the light turned green again.

Once you got home, you went straight to the couch and sat down, surrounded by a cold and profound silence, wondering how much longer you could endure all that fucking torment. After all, the person you were willing to do all this for in the first place didn't show even the slightest hint of caring. So what was the point?

Your sense of time vanished as you sat there, sunk in the middle of a moral dilemma that was starting to give you a headache. Your stomach growled, but you didn't have the strength to get up and cook anything. You didn't even change your position during the thirty minutes you were dissociating.

But a soft, unusual knock on your door awakened all your senses, completely certain that you were now a loose end that they, the demons, needed to burn. It was probably just your paranoia, but you had reason to believe such a thing. At that point, you saw them as capable of anything.

The heaviest object within reach was an acoustic guitar Chaery had given you a while back. You picked it up by the neck and walked toward the door as cautiously as possible. Two more knocks, and you were already preparing to smash the guitar over someone's head.

"Hey, we know you're there," you heard… Seulgi? say from the other side of the door. "Don't play hard to get."

Of all the voices you expected to hear that night, Seulgi's certainly wasn't one of them. After leaning the guitar against the wall next to the door, you opened it to find two beauties standing in the doorway.

"Hey tiger, long time no see, huh?" Wendy greeted, as Seulgi threw her arms around your neck and hugged you.

The thoughts of wanting to be alone in your bubble of misery and dismay disappeared when you saw Wendy smile and when you wrapped your arms around Seulgi's body.

But the fact that the two of them were there, at that time of day and after everything that had happened, seemed suspicious. Something didn't fit.

"Wait a minute," you pulled away from Seulgi, somewhat distracted by the fact that they were both wearing outfits that left their midriffs exposed. "How did you know my day was a total mess?"

Seulgi placed her hand on your chest and led you inside. Wendy, being the last to enter, closed the door behind her.

"We don't know all the details," Seulgi began as you hugged Wendy. "And maybe this isn't what you want to hear right now, but Gunwook called Jihye and told her he was worried about you."

Wendy went to sit on your couch when you gestured for her to sit. Seulgi walked beside you, following the same path.

"He told her that today you'd have to do something you'd never had to do before and that he knew it would affect you," Seulgi sat down next to Wendy, and you sat down next to her. "After talking to Gunwook, Jihye shared her concern with Irene, and as soon as Irene got some time alone she called us and asked us to come check on you."

Knowing that Jihye still cared about you made you feel like an idiot. How could you even dare doubt the most wonderful woman you'd ever met? It was even insulting to the memory you had of her. Never again.

But Irene?

Was she showing signs of being a real, sentient person? Or was this just another one of her tricks? It's not like you held a furious grudge against her, but anything she did was enough to make you doubt her. It wasn't your fault, though; she'd earned that reputation the hard way.

"What, are you surprised it was Irene who sent us here?" Seulgi asked, curious by your silence. "I told you she wasn't all evil."

"She also forbade us from telling Jihye we were coming to see you," Wendy added. "She didn't want you to think it was a way to curry favor with you. She really does care about you."

Irene legitimately worried about you? Wow, that sounded idyllic. It was something to behold.

"And I thought nothing could surprise me anymore," you said, slumped in your seat with your arms crossed. "But it seems you all have tricks up your sleeves."

Then you began to share your day with them, perhaps skipping details and not explaining yourself very well on some things, but in a way that helped you vent and process everything with a cool head and out of the fire. Wendy and Seulgi listened attentively to every word, careful not to interrupt you more than necessary. When you finished letting out everything you were feeling, Wendy kissed your cheek and stood up to go to the kitchen, rummage through your pantry, and start making dinner for the three of you.

Seulgi snuggled up against you, her head resting on your collarbone on the left side, wrapped in your arm.

"I'm so sorry you're having to go through all this, darling," Seulgi said after a while, wrapping an arm around your abdomen to hug you. "And believe me, I'm just as devastated as you are for that poor girl." She turned her head to look at you closely. "But beating ourselves up about it won't get us anywhere."

"You knew this wasn't going to be an easy road and that you were going to need some serious balls to get through it. I have faith in you and your desire to help all these people, and I love your nobility. But it won't happen overnight, sweetheart. Don't be so hard on yourself."

You remained silent, not quite sure what to say to such kind words. Seulgi understood, and being the care bear she was, she only hugged you tighter. You hugged her back and closed your eyes.

"Thank you, little bear," you sighed. "In case I haven't thanked you enough for everything."

"I don't need you to. You deserve everything for always being so sweet to us."

"Guys, dinner's ready!" Wendy said from the kitchen behind you. "Come on."

You and Seulgi stood up and went to sit at the dining table. Wendy had prepared chicken wraps with orange juice, something quick and delicious that she knew you'd love.

Wendy carried the plates to the table and sat across from you, Seulgi to your left. Then, you proceeded to eat while catching up. You hadn't seen Wendy in a while, so it was only natural that she did most of the talking throughout dinner.

The levity of the conversation managed to wash away all the bad feelings you had after the events of that day. It was strange, but lately, there were very frequent moments when you stopped to appreciate the wonderful friendships you'd made and all the good things that had happened to you thanks to the questionable career decisions you'd made so far. You were extremely lucky for that.

But at that moment, all your gratitude was directed toward those two women who were eating with you that night. Who knows where your thoughts would have gone if they hadn't shown up? The range of stupid decisions was wide, and every one of them ended with you either at a severe disadvantage or potentially in a black bag in the Han River.

Blessed were Jihye and Irene, after all.

"Hey, aren't you hungrier by any chance?" Wendy asked half an hour later, when you'd finished eating and talking.

"Hungrier?" you asked. "Why?"

"I don't know…" you heard Wendy take off her sneakers, and a moment later, you felt one of her feet on your inner right thigh. "I'm kind of hungry for more than just food."

Seulgi placed her hand on your other thigh, and you turned to face her. Where had her black jacket gone?

"I think me too, you know?" Seulgi said. Her fingers tightened on your thigh, and her hand moved up to grope your bulge. "I guess it's because I didn't have lunch today."

"You guys are big eaters then, aren't you?" you asked, as Wendy rubbed one of your thighs with her foot and Seulgi worked you up with her hand.

"Only on very specific days," Seulgi replied, and when you wrapped your left arm around her back to hold her waist, she kissed you.

Seulgi immediately unbuttoned your pants, unzipped your zipper, and pulled your hard cock out of your boxers, wrapping her fingers around it and slowly moving her wrist. Wendy added to the equation by lifting her foot slightly and rubbing the back of your shaft and your balls with her toes.

Since you found it impossible to stay still with Kang Seulgi by your side, you brought your right hand to her perfect tummy and caressed it with your fingertips before undoing her belt, unbuttoning her pants, and reaching in to rub her pussy over her panties.

Seulgi let out a soft moan against your lips and cupped the side of your face with her left hand, while the other moved off your cock to unzip her pants, pull down the top of her pink crop top and pull up the bottom so it was bunched up just below her breasts, which were currently covered by a black bra.

Wendy took advantage of Seulgi's release of your cock and leaned back in the chair to lift her other leg, take your shaft between her feet, and move them up and down.

Seconds later, Seulgi's panties became slightly wet from you rubbing circles on her clit. You then took your hand out of her pants, and before moving it to her breasts, you used your left hand to unclasp her bra, revealing those pretty mounds. Seulgi bit your lip and sighed when you pinched one of her nipples, returning her hand to your cock.

"Do you have any whipped cream?" you heard Wendy ask with a moan.

Frowning, you broke away from Seulgi's lips to turn to look at her; the question seemed odd to you. Wendy had already removed her black crop top and bra. Only her necklace remained, the cross perfectly positioned between her small, bare breasts.

Wendy just looked you in the eye and bit her lower lip. You didn't need any further explanation; you got it immediately.

"In the fridge," you replied. "I just bought it yesterday."

Wendy smirked, slid her legs off your lap, and stood up to go to the kitchen. Meanwhile, you and Seulgi stood up and walked over to the couch to kiss again. Seulgi grabbed the hem of your pants and boxers and pulled them both down. Returning the gesture, you took care of her pants and panties, and also took off your sweater so that both of you were naked.

Seulgi pushed you down onto the couch, then straddled you to cradle your face and deepen the kiss. Her pussy ground against your cock, and she ground her hips slowly to rub it between her wet folds. Your hands immediately went to grope her firm ass.

"Dessert is served!" Wendy said, standing behind you. "Come here, unnie."

Seulgi pulled away from your lips and looked up. You both looked at Wendy, who was holding the tub of whipped cream. Seulgi smiled and straightened her back, sticking out her chest so Wendy could cover her tits with whipped cream.

Wendy tapped you on the back of the neck with her middle finger.

"Come on, you know what to do," she urged.

Maybe your memory was failing at the moment, but you couldn't remember a single time you'd done that. Seulgi's tits looked stupidly hot, tho, and you loved whipped cream, reason enough to lean your head forward and start licking and sucking as slowly as you could.

Seulgi seemed to like it as much as you did, letting out small, muffled moans as she held the back of your neck, her fingers tugging at strands of your hair. Wendy joined you on the couch, sitting on your left side, completely naked except for her necklace. She knelt up and poured whipped cream on her small tits, so when you were finished with Seulgi, you could move on to hers.

Wendy moaned and wrapped her arms around your neck as you licked the whipped cream off her perky little nipples. Seulgi climbed off you and sat on your right side, grabbing the can of whipped cream and pouring just a little on the tip of your cock. Then, she bent down, licked it, and wrapped her lips around it to suck a few inches of your shaft.

"Hmm, I want to do that too," Wendy gasped. "Stand up."

You obeyed and stood in front of the couch. Seulgi and Wendy sat back on their heels, side by side, and both leaned toward your cock to lick and kiss it from different sides. It was Wendy who grabbed the can of whipped cream to pour it in a straight line from your base to your tip, and without a second's hesitation, she opened her mouth and took a sizable portion of your shaft inside until her lips closed and moved up. There was a bit of cream left near your base, but Seulgi was quick to lick it off.

Wendy sucked your cock with sensual pumps of her head, savoring the whipped cream she had collected as Seulgi poured more cream onto the few inches of your shaft that Wendy couldn't reach, using her tongue to lick it clean and suck on it.

When Wendy pulled out of her mouth, Seulgi took her place, sucking on almost the same number of inches of your cock as Wendy, who moved down to cup your balls, fill them with whipped cream, and bring them to her mouth. You moaned, one hand on both heads. You watched them have fun with your cock for a few minutes, letting them slurp and lick as much whipped cream as they wanted from it. Soon your cock was slick and saliva-soaked.

"Would you let me have a little fun too?" you asked, taking the can of whipped cream from Seulgi's hand.

"Oh sure, baby," Seulgi smiled, turning her back on you to lean forward and rest her hands on the back of the couch, her beautiful ass now at your mercy.

Wendy imitated her, and in a few seconds, both beauties were on all fours on your couch. The temptation to fuck them right away was there, but the desire to taste those asses and pussies was even bigger. So, you started by swirling whipped cream twice over each of Seulgi's buttocks, then bent your knees, grabbed her thighs, and licked the cream off, adding kisses and bites.

Moving to Wendy, you spanked her buttocks a couple of times and made her squeal, knowing she loved spanks. Then, on the red marks your hands had left, you poured cream the same way you did with Seulgi and repeated the process.

"Fuck, you must be in heaven, right?" Seulgi asked with a chuckle.

"You have no idea," you smiled, delighting in licking and kissing Wendy's cute, tight asshole. "And I haven't even eaten your pussies yet."

"Then what are you waiting for, hunk?" Wendy asked, looking over her shoulder at you. "Can't you see how wet you've got me?"

"What, needy already?" you asked back. "I can tell we haven't seen each other in months."

"Oh god, shut your mouth and… oh fuck yes," Wendy moaned when you grabbed her ass cheeks and brought your mouth to her pussy. "That's it, that's exactly it."

You gave Wendy a quick taste, licking and kissing between her folds. You also allowed yourself to move up a bit and pay attention to her butthole, making her moan louder since that was one of her sensitive spots.

"Hey, cutie," Seulgi called. "Over here."

Turning around, you found Seulgi spread-eagled, her head resting on the armrest at the end of the couch. Her pussy was covered in a line of whipped cream. Unable to resist, you moved away from Wendy and knelt on the floor in front of Seulgi, grabbing her thighs and wiping the cream off her pussy with a single upward lick.

Wendy lay between Seulgi and the back of the couch and hugged her, attacking her neck with kisses. Seulgi moaned, one hand in your hair as you savored the cream and ate her pussy, and the other cupping Wendy's face as she kissed her.

Seconds later, Wendy and Seulgi's lips met. The two women shared a passionate and sensual kiss, groping each other. Wendy rubbed Seulgi's clit, and Seulgi played with Wendy's small tits. The scene made your cock throb, especially seeing that pair of perfect tummies side by side.

Something occurred to you.

You left Seulgi's pussy and knelt in front of them, grabbing the can of whipped cream and pouring three lines on Seulgi's belly. You leaned down, grabbed her waist, and licked the sweet cream directly from her firm flesh. You did the same with Wendy, savoring the cream while you covered her toned abdomen with wet kisses and licks.

After indulging in that little treat, you went a little higher and, leaving the whipped cream aside, brought both pairs of tits to your mouth again. Seulgi reached down and grabbed your cock to rub it. Wendy, for her part, had you by the side of your neck while you were focused on her. A minute later, you rose up towards their faces, and the three of you merged into a dirty, saliva-filled triple kiss.

"Mmm, I'm assuming you're going to want to get fucked first, right?" you asked Wendy seconds later. "Seulgi can't protest; she already paid me a visit a few days ago."

Seulgi frowned.

"I don't know how that has to do with…"

"You're assuming right, sweetie," Wendy nodded, ignoring Seulgi. "You must be missing one of your favorite tight pussies, aren't you?"

"You can't imagine," you gave her a small kiss. "Wanna ride me?"

"No, right now I want you to pound my pussy like you've been saving that energy for all the days we haven't seen each other," Wendy replied, looking into your eyes with every word.

Wendy knelt up so you could wrap your arm around her small body and carry her to the opposite side of the couch, laying her on her back and spreading her legs. You spit on your cock to lubricate it, and without wasting much more time, you placed the tip inside Wendy's pussy and slowly pushed forward.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck," Wendy gasped, watching as you buried every inch inside her tight pussy until it bulged her abdomen. "Oh my god, wait," she writhed with a hand on your abdomen. "You're the biggest thing I've ever had inside me, and it's been too long."

Seulgi moved to the other end of the couch, which had a wider space, and got on her hands and knees, facing you, her face directly above Wendy's. She stroked her beautiful short brown hair and grabbed Wendy's face to force her to look at you.

"Ask him to fuck you really hard, go on," Seulgi said in a low, silky voice. "I know you're ready. You just like feeling him stretch you from the inside out."

Wendy looked you straight in the eyes as you held her left thigh against hers and left the other loose. Her face was flushed, making her pale skin look even prettier.

"Fuck me really, really hard, sweetie," Wendy moaned, caressing your abdomen with her fingertips. "My pussy needs it. I need it."

Fuck, you'd almost forgotten how submissive Wendy had always been.

"Don't beg anymore, gorgeous," you said with the same gentleness Seulgi had used, starting to slowly move your hips. "You know I always spoil you."

With that, you spent only a few seconds fucking her pussy slowly until you drastically increased your speed, making Wendy smother moans against Seulgi's lips. Her tiny waist was your initial point of grip, digging your fingers hard into her flesh as you shook her petite body with hard, fast thrusts.

Seulgi quickly grew aroused just watching you fuck Wendy and let out little moans as well. She leaned forward over Wendy's body, lowering her head to suck and lick her tits. Her ass looked really inviting from there, with that beautiful back arched above Wendy's face.

Wendy started moaning louder when Seulgi reached out a hand and began rubbing circles on her clit, in perfect sync with your strong pumping. Seulgi then looked at Wendy's abdomen, which bulged every time your cock went all the way into her pussy, and leaned forward a little further to kiss that constantly rising portion of flesh.

As the seconds passed, Wendy had her first orgasm, arching her back loudly and hugging Seulgi's body on top of her. You heard her muffle her moans against something, but it was Seulgi's face twisting that made you realize it was her pussy.

"Oh girl, you shouldn't have done that," Seulgi gasped, and turned around to straddle Wendy's face, pinning her arms with her knees. She leaned forward, arching her back again so you could see in detail how Wendy ate her pussy. "You keep at it, champ. She's loving every second of this."

You went from holding Wendy's waist to her thighs, pressing both of them against her torso as you gradually resumed your rhythm. Soon you were pounding her pussy again, so hard that it made her breathing ragged and her nails digging into Seulgi's ass.

Wendy had another orgasm not long after. Her whimpers, muffled against Seulgi's tender, wet flesh, were like music to your ears as you gently fucked her and she squirmed her hips. She instinctively moved one of her feet to your mouth, and of course you accepted it with kisses and sucks on her big toe.

"Don't you think it's my turn now, baby?" Seulgi asked, knowing her ass looked irresistible from that spot.

You pulled out of Wendy's pussy and crawled over her until you were kneeling above her chest, just behind Seulgi's ass. Wendy's first instinct was to capture your balls with her mouth, giving them light suction and licking. But then she grabbed your cock herself and guided it into Seulgi's pussy.

"Fuck, what a view," Wendy said, watching your cock force its way between Seulgi's walls from below. "I fucking love being bisexual."

Wendy continued licking your balls and the underside of your cock until you buried every inch inside Seulgi. Then her focus shifted to her unnie's pussy. Seulgi moaned, both from feeling your cock stretching her and from Wendy's licking. You were just as overwhelmed with pleasure as she was.

"Thank god she's such a good girl," Seulgi moaned, propped up on her elbows. She was looking forward as she ran her hand through her hair.

With Seulgi, you prolonged the slow pumps a little longer, just wanting to feel a little more of the wonders Wendy was doing beneath you. As the seconds passed, you couldn't help going faster, but that didn't stop Wendy from eating Seulgi's pussy like it was a divine command.

"Oh my god, yes!" Seulgi moaned as you pounded her pussy from behind, hands on her waist. "Please don't stop, don't stop!"

One of your hands moved from her waist to her hair, firmly grabbing a handful of it and speeding up as you were close to your climax. Seulgi came first, trembling on Wendy's face, and the way her pussy suffocated your cock and throbbed around it made you explode with moans as loud as Seulgi's.

"God!" you groaned, leaving only your tip inside Seulgi's pussy as you came, so that when you pulled out, your entire load spilled from Seulgi's folds into Wendy's mouth. "Yeah, that's a good girl."

Wendy took every drop that fell from Seulgi's pussy, savored it, and swallowed it without hesitation, then stuck out her tongue and cleaned the rest herself. As a reward, you took your cock and guided it into her mouth. She took it with a moan and sucked it until it was glistening.

"Don't even think I'm done with you," Seulgi told you between gasps, looking back into your eyes. "You know exactly what I want, and I know you want to give it to me."

"I've never refused it," you replied.

You got off Wendy and went to Seulgi, taking up the space on that side she wasn't occupying. As soon as you lay down and rested your head on the small of the couch, Seulgi straddled you. And without even letting your cock soften, she took you back into her pussy and began moving her hips on you.

It was a little painful at first, but nothing you weren't used to with her, especially since she hated breaks. Seulgi bent over you and kissed you while moving her hips on your cock. Your hands went to her waist and quickly went down to her ass as she began to bounce, almost twerking on your shaft.

"Does it feel good for you now, baby?" Seulgi asked in your ear, knowing it had been a bit painful for you. She made you smile at her ability to be so sweet despite the lewd moment.

"Yeah, I'm fine now," you nodded with a giggle, wrapping your arms around her back to hug her. "You're free to go wild."

Maybe you shouldn't have said that, as Seulgi took it quite seriously. She bounced faster and faster on your cock, showing off the excellent control she had over her hips. Then you heard a spank, one you hadn't given her. Glancing to your right, you saw Wendy kneeling beside you, playing with herself with one hand and holding Seulgi's lower back with the other.

"Pay no attention to me," Wendy said. She hadn't noticed that she still had a few drops of cum on her chin. "I'm just watching."

Despite being ‘just watching’, Wendy gave Seulgi another spank that made her squeal. But your amused smile turned into a grimace of pleasure when Seulgi planted her feet on the couch and began bouncing like an unstoppable force of nature on your cock, her hands on your chest and her eyes fixed on yours. Her body had picked up a light layer of sweat, giving it a soft sheen thanks to the living room lights.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!!" Seulgi moaned, reaching up for you to suck on her fingers. You did so without hesitation, playing with her tits until she came again with a grunt.

Seulgi lowered her knees back onto the couch and ground herself against it, your cock buried deep inside her pussy. She throbbed deliciously inside, her silky, suffocating walls making you moan. Her body fell towards you, and with her tits pressed against your chest, she moved her hips up and down as she rode out her orgasm.

Your cock accidentally popped out of Seulgi's pussy, and Wendy was quick to grab it with one hand and suck it with desperate, sloppy slurps.

"Do you want more, you submissive little whore?" you asked, reaching out to grab her ass.

"You ask that like you don't know me," Wendy replied with kisses to your cock, then released it to stand in front of the couch. "Come on, come."

"I love that you guys think I have unlimited energy," you sighed, looking at Seulgi, still panting and with her hair disheveled. "Get off me, big ass."

Seulgi got off you and let you stand.

Wendy was pretty predictable when she wanted something, and that something was you grabbing her behind the knees and lifting her up into the air so she could wrap her legs around your torso. Once that was done, she grabbed your neck and kissed you, letting you grab your cock and guide it inside her.

That woman was small and petite, so it was effortless for you to hold her in the air. This made it easy to manipulate her at will, bouncing her hard and fast on your cock while you held her ass. Wendy squealed against your lips. Her hand was behind your head, tugging at your hair when her arms weren't wrapped around your neck.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Seulgi get off the couch and kneel in front of you, right behind Wendy's ass. Her intentions were clear to you, so you spread Wendy's legs from around your torso, held them in the air with a grip behind her knees, and began pounding her pussy while Seulgi ate her butthole.

Wendy filled the entire apartment with screams worthy of the main vocalist she was, visibly overwhelmed by both simultaneous inputs of pleasure. Her eyes glazed over as her head fell back and her nails dug into the back of your neck. She wasn't much of a talker during sex, and this time was no exception. All her enjoyment was expressed in the way her face twisted and her moans modulated according to how close she was to orgasm.

In that case, her orgasm was very close, and a couple of minutes later, she exploded in spasms and intense screams that rattled your eardrums. Seulgi, her work done, stood up and buried her face in Wendy's neck, peppering it with kisses. Then she looked up at you.

"Do you have lube here?" Seulgi asked, while Wendy still wasn't fully recovered from her orgasm, which was still making her thighs tremble.

"Let's go to the bedroom," you said.

Not wanting to put Wendy down because you knew she wouldn't be able to walk, you picked her up and carried her on your shoulder, your arm wrapped around her thighs.

Seulgi led the way to your bedroom, followed closely by you. Upon entering, the first thing she did was go straight to your nightstand in search of the lube while you placed Wendy on the bed. She quickly found it and crawled into your bed to lie on her side and quickly pour the clear liquid on her ass and part of her thighs.

"Fuck, you really need it, don't you?" you asked, watching as she spread the lube until her ass was shiny and slippery.

"I lost count of the last time you fucked my ass, so yeah," Seulgi looked down at Wendy, who was face down with one knee raised higher than the other. Her ass looked too cute, and Seulgi knew it. "Do you want me to do the same to her?"

"She wants you to, but right now she can't string two sentences together without fainting," you replied.

While Seulgi prepped Wendy's ass, you got into bed, positioned yourself in front of her, grabbed your cock, and pressed it against her butthole, slowly inching it in.

"Oh, fuck, wait," Seulgi moaned, still holding Wendy's ass. "I'm not done yet… mmmgh!"

"You said you needed it, and now I'm a busy man. I can't wait forever," you joked with a half-smile.

Your cock slid easily into Seulgi's perfect, amazing, wonderful ass, every inch surrounded by suffocatingly tight flesh. Seulgi did her best to focus on finishing work on Wendy's ass, and when she did, she tossed the bottle of lube away to grab onto your wrist.

"Fuck me hard then, busy man," Seulgi hissed. You were already moving slowly. "Make up for all these months of not treating me."

It was no secret to either of you, but Seulgi's ass always managed to make your head spin, and you couldn't really put your finger on why. It was simply the ass you loved being inside the most besides Aeri's, Chaery's, and Wendy's. Your moans and the way you clung to her waist proved it.

"That's it, that's it," Seulgi moaned, her body increasingly rocked by your thrusts. "Just like that, baby. Didn't you miss your favorite ass?"

Fuck, of course you did, but at that moment, you couldn't respond; you were focused on fucking her faster and harder. The bedroom soon began to reverberate with the sounds of your pelvis colliding with her sticky ass, coupled with Seulgi's moans. You pressed her thigh back and against her torso with both hands, trying to hit her at that angle you knew she'd love. You knew you'd succeeded when Seulgi brought a hand to her mouth and arched her back, squealing.

"Oh god, yesss!!" Seulgi screamed. "I knew you wouldn't forget. Fuck, fuck!!"

Seulgi slammed her hand on the bed when, a minute later, she came in that way you so vividly remembered from your first sessions with them. Like she was possessed, basically. Her face looked damn sexy while she did it, tho. And her ass was squeezing your cock like hell.

Wendy was already watching, eager for her turn, so with a swift movement, you pulled out of Seulgi's ass and straddled Wendy's thighs to guide your cock between her slick buttocks, find her butthole, and slowly enter it.

The big difference between Seulgi and Wendy was that the latter felt everything there, but multiplied by ten. That meant that for every inch of cock you buried inside her ass, the more she lost her mind, to the point where she couldn't even move from the immense pleasure she felt. Within a few seconds, you reached that point, with your cock disappeared between her firm buttocks.

"You love this, don't you, Seungwanie?" you asked Wendy, one hand on her lower back and the other on the back of her neck.

Wendy just nodded weakly, unable to do anything else. Even her face was in a state of partial paralysis; only her mouth moved occasionally to emit muffled sounds and gasps. Then you started fucking her as hard as you were fucking Seulgi a moment ago.

That ass was on par with Seulgi's: just as tight and just as warm. Every inch of your cock slid in and out of her, fast and hard, up and down. Wendy was happy to be pinned to the bed like that; her fingers, both her hands and her toes, wrinkled in approval. Her blank eyes also urged you to keep going.

Within seconds, Wendy had a silent orgasm, but physically you knew it was considerably the most intense, aggressive, and mind-melting of all. The way she writhed, pulling the sheets off the top corner of the bed, made every drop of sweat worth it. But you needed to cum urgently.

Seulgi got on her hands and knees for you, and you returned to her ass to pound it hard from behind, pulling her hair and delivering spank after spank. A while later, when you'd given Wendy enough time to recover, you returned to her and flipped her over onto her back to spread her legs and also fuck her ass like a madman.

You spent a considerable amount of time switching between both asses, and after making them both cum once more, you reached your climax while fucking Wendy.

"Oh fuck!!" You groaned, your fingers digging into Wendy's tiny waist until, with a sudden thrust, you exploded inside her. "Fuckkk!!"

It didn't surprise you that, as you emptied your balls inside her, Wendy came again, and this time she whimpered until tears streamed down her cheeks. You slumped forward and kissed her, filled with nothing but gratitude and affection. Wendy cupped your face with trembling hands and kissed you back, until, out of nowhere, she fainted. It was also normal for her, so you weren't alarmed.

You pulled yourself out of her, and your cum spilled from her butthole onto the white sheets.

"Do you want us to spend the night with you, sweetheart?" Seulgi asked from beside you, lying on her own arm.

"Yes, please," you nodded between heavy gasps.

"And you want me to comb your hair right now?"

"Fuck, yes please," you sighed.

"First let me help you clean Seungwanie and the sheets."

Seulgi stood up, and on shaky legs, went to the bathroom to grab some toilet paper and come back to clean up the cum-soaked mess you'd made. Then, she settled onto a pillow on the right side of the bed and held out her arms for you to curl up between them.

Mentally exhausted from all the day's shit and now physically exhausted from being drained by those two, you hugged Seulgi like a helpless koala and let her cuddle you until you fell asleep.

#kpop smut #smut fanfic #smut #red velvet smut #seulgi smut #wendy smut #male reader smut #male reader insert #x male smut

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keirareidss · 2 months ago

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the ink on your skin - s.r

♡ summary: spencer is obsessed with his girlfriend's tattoos pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader wc: 1.1k

Spencer Reid had a thing for tattoos. Specifically his girlfriend's. One of his favorite pastimes was tracing them with his finger. Exactly what he was doing now.

He laid in bed, the early morning light peeking through the cracks in the blinds, painting the mattress in golden stripes. His deft fingertips traced the black ink decorating your skin. He followed the lines, recreating the intricate pattern with his touch.

"What are you doing?" Came a sleepy mumble from beside him. He looked up from your back, glancing towards where your face was buried into the plush pillow, arms curled underneath it. Your eyes were still closed but your face was turned towards him.

"Nothing. Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No." You hummed, snuggling closer. "I dreamt about you."

"Really?" He asked, his fingers skimming down to the side of your thigh where another tattoo laid. He gently began tracing it. You weren't even sure if he knew he was doing it.

"Mhm. We were just walking around the city. Running errands and stuff. It was pretty domestic actually."

"That sounds nice." Spencer murmurs.

"It was." You both fell into a peaceful silence, your eyes still closed while Spencer traced over your ink from memory.

You dropped the clasp again, huffing in annoyance. Why is it so hard to put on a necklace? You didn't want to go without it though, it really accented the dress you were wearing. Backless with a deep V in the front, hugging your curves nicely. You tried again to clasp the necklace behind your neck, internally cheering when you succeeded.

"Hey, are you ready?" Spencer asked, walking into the room, adjusting his tie. He froze when he saw you, barely keeping his jaw from dropping to the floor. "Wow, you look... amazing."

"Thank you. You look awfully handsome yourself."

"Is, um, is that a new necklace?" He asked, unable to stop his eyes from dropping to your cleavage.

"It is. I got it when I went shopping with Penelope last weekend." You said, stepping closer to him. His hand instinctively moved to your waist, the other moving to the necklace. He fiddles with the charm, a small silver S.

"S?" He asked, looking into your eyes.

"For Spencer." You grinned up at him as his knuckles brushed your chest. He blushed, glancing back at the necklace. His eyes caught on something else though, the tattoo trailing down your cleavage into the hem of your dress. His fingers leave the small charm to brush over the ink. He traces the design forming a vine as it descends down your chest, watching his own finger skim along your soft skin.

"Spence?"

"Hmm?" He asks, snapping out of his trance.

"Are you ready to go?" You asked in a soft, teasing voice.

"Mhm." His eyes finally lift from your chest to look into your entrancing eyes.

"C'mon babe. We're gonna be late to our reservation." Spencer trails behind you his eyes caught on the way your hips sway. It was gonna be a long night.

The case was rough. Weeks of work and the victim barely made it out alive. Now that the BAU was back on the jet, they all stayed pretty quiet, sitting with the after effects of the case. You sat across from Spencer, headphones in, music nearly blasting in your ears to drown out the memories of the case. Spencer sat with his back to the kitchenette, nose deep in his notebook, drawing something. Derek got up for the third time, getting another coffee for himself. He headed to the kitchenette, refilling his cup. When he turned to go back to his seat, he noticed something. He stepped closer to the back of Spencer's seat, peeking over his shoulder.

"What is that?" He asks, making the genius turn around.

"Wha- none of your business!" He says, pressing the notebook to his chest to hide it from view.

"Nah, that looked familiar. Lemme see." He reaches for the notebook but Spencer jerks back.

"No! It's- it's nothing." His face is bright red by now. He glances across the table to see you looking up, pulling an earbud from your ear to tune into the conversation. Derek uses this distraction to snatch the notebook from Spencer's hand. "Morgan-"

"Hang on, is this... is this what I think it is?" Derek grins teasingly.

"No." Spencer defends pathetically.

"It is. You're doodling your girlfriend's tattoos."

"Just- give it back." He yanks the notebook back, tucking it to his chest again.

"You are?" You asked, taking your other earbud out.

"Maybe..." Spencer blushes more, if that's even possible.

"Which one? Show me." You said. The flustered man across from you slowly hands you the notebook. You look down at the drawing your eyes widening slightly at the detail. "Wow. This is good."

"Thanks." Spencer rubs the back of his neck and Derek ruffles his hair, smirking as he heads back to his seat. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad? This is amazing. You should draw my next tattoo." You said offhandedly, sliding his notebook back across the table to him. You moved to put your earbuds back in but stopped when he spoke again.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I can draw something... if you want."

"That'd be awesome, Spence." He smiled to himself, burying himself back into his notebook.

It had to be perfect. He wouldn't accept anything other than perfect being put on your body permanently. Since you told him he could design a tattoo for you, he hasn't stopped thinking about it. He's been brainstorming and sketching but nothing has felt right. He crumbled up and threw away yet another sheet of paper containing a design that was still not good enough.

"It doesn't have to be perfect, Spence. I'll love anything you draw. Promise." He shakes his head.

"You don't know that." He muttered, shifting to get more comfortable. He was sitting in the dining room chair at your apartment where he had been for almost the last hour. You sat down next to him, taking his hand.

"Honey, it's not that big of a deal." You reassured him, smiling slightly, amused at his determination.

"It is a big deal! This will be on your body forever!"

"If you're this stressed about it, you don't have to do it."

"Do you not want me to?" He tilted his head, his brown puppy dog eyes boring into yours.

"Of course I want you to. It'd be great to have a little piece of you everywhere I go."

"Wait... I have an idea." Spencer says, grabbing his pencil and starting to quickly sketch. He's done in a few moments, sliding the notebook over to you.

"Is that...?" You smiled, looking down at the sketch.

"It's the day we met. And that's a carnation. Your favorite, right?"

"Yeah. It's perfect." You lean forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, his winding around your waist. "It's perfect." You murmur again, this time into his neck. His arms tighten around you, smiling at the promise of permanent ink on your body, tying you together. Forever.

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #♡ keira's fics

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k3n-dyll · 11 months ago

Text

☆F.U.C.K

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back

FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.

And yours of course.

Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.

It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.

The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.

"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.

"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.

"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.

"I lied."

Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.

"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.

"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."

In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.

In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.

"Figured it out, pretty girl?"

Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.

"You wanna see it?"

The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.

"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"

You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.

"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"

Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.

She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.

"Abby..."

"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.

"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.

Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.

"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"

The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.

"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"

The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.

Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.

"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.

"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.

Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.

"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.

"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"

The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.

Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.

"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.

"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.

Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.

"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

#lesbian #wlw #tlou2 #abby anderson #☆kennie's works #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby x you #abby x fem!reader

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divineturtle · 4 months ago

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Bothers me when I'm reading a fanfic and they make Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy just like. A mean asshole? MY Doctor McCoy introduced Spock to baby talk. MY Doctor McCoy bounces on his toes and has a smile bright as the sun. MY Doctor McCoy knocked Kirk *and* Spock out with a hypo to sacrifice himself for them even though the aliens said he was almost for sure going to die, and the other two would probably live. MY Doctor McCoy was like, hey, sure Spock committed mutiny, but do we really gotta arrest him? Yeah he's grumpy sometimes, but have you considered the fact that he's stuck on a ship in Space with two assholes that literally never listen?

I just watched the Abraham Lincoln episode and I stg it's a miracle McCoy isn't actually a huge asshole, because wym "this planet WAS deadly but Abraham Lincoln says it's cool so we're going" "hey, don't do that, you could beam down into lava and literally DIE" "Ugh shut UP McCoy we're following Abraham Lincoln onto the Lava Planet That WAS ENTIRELY LAVA until two minutes ago" dude I'd be swinging at a mfer. Especially if I was their doctor knowing it was going to be my job to sew them back together. They're absolute menaces to him and he still loves them and is willing to die for them every other episode.

And I don't ever want to see another "ahh he hates Spock" when he so obviously does not. In the last episode, he wasn't even sure that Kirk and Janice had swapped bodies and yet again, he was ready to commit mutiny with Spock and Scotty (why does Spock love mutiny? 🤨) He does like to rib Spock and get reactions out of him, but Spock likes to do it to McCoy just as much. He's been around humans his ENTIRE life, his mom is a human, he's half human, "I have no idea what you mean, Doctor, I'm just a simple little logic machine," you cannot convince me it's not a game.

And every time I feel like McCoy is being hurtful for actually no reason, the next scene is Spock taking action because of whatever McCoy had said and allowing himself to tap into that human part of him. He has a way of speaking Spock. It's not always nice but it's a way that gets through. Do you think asking Spock to use his Vulcan powers to permanently alter his friend and captain's memory so he forgets his grief over this chick he fell desperately for and then also she died in the span of like four hours is a great idea? No, he'd probably have some moral or logical issues with that. but just speech at him about love and feelings and stuff, throw something in there about how great it'd be if he could just forget, and he'll do it himself.

ANOTHER THING. When he's an asshole, he apologizes. He's not an asshole often, but when he is, he apologizes. Leonard McCoy is a lot of things, but he's not really a dick.

I think he deserves to be represented for the guy he is. He has SO many nice and good moments, he's just subtle about them. Remember when Kirk was like, "Bones, why didn't you tell me she was blind?" And he was like, "Idk Jim maybe because that'd be rude? Have you considered it's not your business?" REAL. Honestly, real.

This is a much longer rant than I meant for it to be and somehow I still have more I could say so imma cut myself off right here ❤️ If you read all that, thanks, you're just as weird as I am, even if you don't agree with my lil character analysis. If you didn't read all that, then you're not reading this ✨️

#leonard mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #character analysis #star trek tos #st tos #tos #doctor mccoy #fanfiction #rant post #spock #he deserves some love #I'm just so tired of him being MISUNDERSTOOD like is it on purpose #bones mccoy #bones tos #bonesposting

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writesvani · 2 months ago

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dear me | 06

lawyer! jeonjungkook x privatechef! reader

SUMMARY: Once upon a time, Jungkook and you were everything. Best friends who shared every moment, every secret—except one: you were in love with him. But life changed. High school ended, real life began, and slowly, you drifted apart, the distance between you growing too wide to cross.

The end. Except it isn't.

One day, after a long day at work, you open your email to find a message from 13 years ago—written by your younger self. A letter you’d forgotten, sent by a service you paid to remind you of your youth, your love for him. As the emails keep on coming and you keep reading, the flood of memories hits you, and you realize something heartbreaking: you never stopped loving him.

But now, it’s too late. Jungkook is about to marry someone else. Or is he?

estranged childhood best friends-to-friends-to-lovers?CHAPTER FIVE

TRIGGER WARNINGS: jealousy, insecurity, unresolved feelings, envy, emotional discomfort, love triangle, heartbreak, sexual content (brief), mentions of underage drinking

comment here for Dear Me taglist;

SERIES M.LIST;

— previous chapter // next chapter (pending...)

wc: 5,7k // date: 13th of April

CHAPTER SIX — The Orbits; happy reading my gummies...

AN: ok, hold on to your seats because we’re officially diving into jk and nina’s brains. things are about to get messy—real plot and action is kicking off in the next chapter, i swear! i repeat—no more slow burns, no more introspection, we're getting down to business (just kidding, still slowburn but with more action).

the note goal for this chapter is 350 notes, and i KNOW you all can do it! let’s see how fast we can hit that and get to the juicy stuff. buckle up because shit’s about to get WILD and i’m here for it!!

Days blur into each other, slipping through your fingers like sand. Jungkook and Nina return to Philly, and for a moment, it’s almost like they were never here—almost being the key word. Because even though they’ve left, remnants of them linger. In Cape May. In the air. In the spaces Yoongi and you exist in. And nothing feels the same anymore.

Especially now that you and Jungkook are trying—fumbling, grasping—to pull your friendship back from the dead. As if you can undo time. As if you can stitch back something that once burned to the ground.

But at least you’re both trying. Really trying. And that has to count for something, right? Because for years, neither of you did.

You slip back into your routine—waking up at dawn, reviving yourself with that first sip of coffee, going to work with a carefully practiced smile, soothing your evenings with green tea. Everything is the same. Almost.

There’s a small, barely-there adjustment—one that seeps into your days so effortlessly, you don’t even realize how much you’ve come to crave it.

The familiar ringtone cutting through the silence at night—Jungkook calling after he gets home, his voice laced with exhaustion, asking about your day like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The occasional pings of your phone while you're working—stupid reels, TikToks, things that make you roll your eyes and smile at the same time.

It’s a welcome disruption. The kind that sneaks into your heart without a warning. The kind you didn’t know you needed—not until it became something you couldn't imagine your days without.

And it’s Wednesday.

Your hands clam up with sweat at the thought—because you know what that means. Another email is waiting in your inbox.

You never read the last one.

You were too caught up in making amends with your ex-best friend, too wrapped up in the chaos of that night at The House. By the time you remembered it a day later, you made a decision—you ignored it.

Because opening it would mean stirring up old ghosts, unearthing things best left buried. And you couldn’t afford that. Not now. Not when you and Jungkook had just started to rebuild something that had been left in ruins for years. Not when you were supposed to stand beside him at his wedding.

You didn’t need the reminder of who you used to be. Of the way you used to love him.

So you let the email sit there, untouched, unread. Like ignoring it could erase its existence. Like not clicking on it could save you from what was inside.

Like it could stop the past from clawing its way back to you.

But you don’t have enough willpower to leave the email unread.

Not when you sink into your sofa, legs stretching out, fingers curling from exhaustion.

Not when the warmth of your laptop presses against your thighs, a steady reminder of the task you’ve been avoiding.

Not when the email feels like it’s pulling you in, its presence too loud, too obvious—read me, read me.

You take a long, steadying breath, feeling the weight of your own hesitation. You shift in your seat, trying to ignore the way your body tenses. You take a small sip of your tea, the warm liquid a weak comfort against the unease curling in your chest.

And then, with a resigned exhale, you click on last week’s email.

“Dear me, how’s it going? Today was so boring. Ugh, I had a math exam—already?! It’s only been two weeks of school, and they’re already testing us like we’re some kind of math geniuses. Doesn’t that suck?”

You skeem through the screen, snorting a little at the memory of dreading those endless math problems. You never understood how anyone could actually like it—rules on top of rules with zero fun. The irony that you, of all people, hated math, considering you love sticking to routines and schedules, isn’t lost on you. Still, math was just too much. Too many numbers, too many formulas. You did ace it every time, though.

“Anyway, enough of the math (because seriously, ew). I’ve got something way more fun to talk about—this weekend! Jungkook and I were just wandering around town, and we found the coolest place ever. It’s called ‘The House.’ Kinda a cheesy name, I know. But trust me, the place is amazing.”

And there it is—the mention of that place. You knew it was coming. The House. It had to be. Your memory’s kinda shot, but you remember the first time you and Jungkook stumbled across it, back when you were just starting high school. The discovery was like an initiation or something.

“Jungkook actually loves the name. I guess he’s just as lame as the people who decided to call it The House,” you laugh at the thought. “Anyway, there’s this guy who works there. Not much older than us, but let me tell you, he gave us free drinks. Like, actual alcohol. Isn’t that insane? I swear, this guy’s probably underage, too, but he knows his stuff. Knows drinks like the back of his hand.”

A grin tugs at your lips. Ah, Alex. Underage drinking with him, the wild nights, and laughing until dawn. Good old days. Some things never change, though. Alex still has his talent for mixing drinks—and, considering Yoongi’s wild hangover after your last night out, it seems that talent has only gotten stronger with time.

“So that guy—his name’s Alex, I think—got us so fucking drunk. I’m talking plastered, like, can’t even stand, slurring our words drunk. We were the only two people there, plus Alex behind the bar, and we were giggling like maniacs on crack or something. It was all fun and games until... Well, something weird kinda happened. Like, it’s still a blur, but it was off.

So, Alex, poor guy, was trying way too hard to flirt with me—honestly, it physically pained me, but he’s chill, I guess. But then I turned to look at Kook, and he was just staring at me. Not like normal, you know? It was like... I don’t know, there was something in his eyes. I was like, okay, whatever, maybe it’s the booze messing with me, but then, HE JUST REACHED OVER AND TOOK A PIECE OF MY HAIR—MY BANGS OR SOMETHING—and TUCKED IT BEHIND MY EAR.”

The flash of the memory cuts through you, sharp and sudden, like a slap across your chest. You’re frozen, unable to move, as the past rushes back in full force. Jungkook and you, drunk for the first time together that night. You remember it so clearly—laughing, carefree, the three of you in your little world at the bar. You were talking to Alex, totally lost in the conversation, but when you turned around to say something to Kook, to pull him into the moment with you, he wasn’t just there.

He was watching you. Not in the way a friend watches, no. It was like... he was devouring you with his eyes, as if he was memorizing every detail, committing you to memory. It felt wrong. Or maybe, it felt too right.

And then, slowly, unsurely, his hand reached out—tentative at first, like he was still figuring it out. His fingers brushed against your hair, and you still hear Alex’s soft chuckle echoing in the back of your mind. And then Jungkook tucked that strand of hair behind your ear, like he was marking something—claiming it, claiming you.

That was the moment. The one that shifted everything. The moment you started questioning what had always been there, lurking just beneath the surface.

“Look, I don’t even know what happened, but am I delusional if I think that was like a sign or something? He looked at me in a way friends don’t look at each other. In a way I look at him. UGH, I DON’T KNOW. Maybe we were just too drunk. We didn’t mention it the next day. We only talked about how fucking cool The House and Alex are.”

You didn’t mention it, of course. You didn’t mention the way your heart had hammered against your chest, like it was about to leap out. It’s not like it meant anything to Jungkook. Poor guy had no idea he’d just fed into your fifteen-year-old fantasies. He didn’t know how something so small, so simple, like tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, would leave you drowning in thoughts of him for years to come. He didn’t know how desperately you’d fallen for him in that moment, like some kind of hopeless, lovesick fool.

But that’s what you were.

“Okay, I am indeed delusional, but IDFK, sometimes it really seems like he likes me and then the next second it looks like I'm completely in the friendzone.”

As you skim over the screen, a long, tired sigh escapes your lips. You can’t help it. You feel bad for the teenage version of you—for the girl who lived in that strange limbo of almosts and maybes. She had no idea where life would take you and Jungkook, no clue about all the detours and heartbreaks that would come. And you feel desperately bad for her because seeing these words now? It feels like a punch to the gut.

Because no—Jungkook never liked you. Not like that. Not the way you hoped. You know that now, with painful clarity.

But there’s still a part of you, buried deep beneath all the years and healing and pretending, that held onto that teenage hope like a lifeline. And you secretly hate yourself for it.

“Anyways, let’s talk about Yoongi and Nina. Ugh. I love them both, they’re awesome. Yoongi is like an introverted and calmer version of me and I love it. We started hanging more during the past week (I literally forced him to hang with me and I know he secretly loves it) and we honestly hit it off. We read the same books, listen to the same music and hate the same celebrities which is honestly a valid reason to be friends with a person.”

You laugh under your breath. Jesus. Your fifteen-year-old self was so deep into celebrity drama it was practically a personality trait. You vaguely remember how emotionally invested you were in the whole Justin and Selena saga, and how Yoongi—quiet, unbothered Yoongi—was secretly just as obsessed. He’d never admit it out loud, but you still remember that one time he actually gasped when Justin posted Hailey for the first time.

And as much as you love the version of Yoongi that exists in your life now—the calm presence, the one who brews his own coffee and rarely checks his phone—there’s something so precious about those early days. The ones spent breathing in the dusty scent of the school library’s old books, crafting burner Twitter accounts to defend Selena Gomez’s honor, sharing earbuds at lunch and blasting Mobb Deep like you were way tougher than you actually were.

You miss it. God, you do.

But your friendship with Yoongi has grown into something so solid, so real, that maybe letting go of those chaotic teenage selves was worth it. Maybe growing up didn’t mean losing everything.

Maybe, just maybe, it meant finding something better.

“And Nina is just as awesome as Yoongi. She’s so shy—too shy. Every time Jungkook or I talk to her, her face lights up red like the tomatoes my granny grows in her garden. It’s kind of adorable. She always sides with Justin instead of Selena, though—I swear, she has way too much empathy for men. It personally offends me, but oh well. She’s just nice like that. Nice to everyone. It’s her thing.

She’s also a huge One Direction fan. I never really got into them, but Kook likes a few of their songs, so now the two of them spend an ungodly amount of time debating over which era was the best. I just sit there and watch, but I secretly love it. It feels like she’s slowly letting us in—bit by bit. Like we’re earning her trust in this soft, careful way that feels almost sacred.”

A smile tugs at your lips, uninvited but warm. Those early teenage years—the chaos of pop culture wars, the desperate need to belong somewhere, to someone. That’s what your world was made of back then. And Nina? She was a huge part of it. You remember how much you adored her. How protective you felt over her—like she was a little sister you never knew you wanted until she was suddenly just there. Fragile and kind and yours.

But as the warmth settles in your chest, so does the ache. Because losing Jungkook felt like losing your whole heart, sure—but Nina? Losing her meant losing one of your limbs. A quieter, tender kind of pain that still hasn’t found its resolution.

“Nina and I started studying together a week ago and it’s great—we make notes together, quiz each other, and honestly? I prefer studying with her over Kook or Yoongi. Kook always ends up getting distracted—we’ll sit down to revise and five minutes later we’re playing GTA San Andreas or watching The Fast and the Furious for the hundredth time. Yoongi, on the other hand, just refuses to study with someone else. He says it’s ‘not efficient’ or whatever.”

You chuckle softly, then continue reading.

“It’s different with Nina, though. She asks the right questions. We fill in each other’s blanks. She’s so calm and patient, too—it makes me a little jealous, honestly. I wish I was like that. I hope being around her more will help me become a bit more grounded.”

There’s a dull wound gnawing at your soul. You forgot—or maybe you tried to forget—just how much she meant to you. As a friend. As a confidant. As a person. Life’s cruel like that. It doesn’t steal people from you all at once. No, it does it slowly. Quietly. So slow, in fact, you don’t even realize how much of yourself you’ve lost in the process.

You chew your bottom lip, trying to keep that pain from crawling any further.

“Anyways, that’s all for this email because I can’t keep this too long (mom only lets me use the computer for 3 hours a day and I’m not planning on wasting all the time writing emails, sorry). Next one’s coming next week and girl, you better be reading my mails. Love love love you. Hope you’re okay.

Love,

You.”

You lean back into your seat. Take a sip of your tea. Drag a cigarette to your lips and let the smoke curl around your thoughts. It shouldn’t feel this heavy—this is life, right? You meet people, you grow close, and then sometimes, you drift. You lose. You rebuild. You grieve. You move on.

But still, it pangs. Hard. It plays a cruel little melody with your heartstrings because the confusion is unbearable. How do people let this happen? How did you let it happen?

Younger you would be livid if she knew. If she knew you let two of the most important people in your life just... go.

Yes, you’re trying with Jungkook. You’re piecing it back together, but God only knows if it’ll ever be the same. If either of you will ever look at each other the way you did before the world got in the way.

But Nina?

With Nina, you don’t even know where to begin. Don’t know what to say. Don’t know if she’d even want to hear it.

Your phone startles you out of the haze. The ringtone slices through the stillness, weaving itself with the nausea bubbling in your stomach and the frantic beat of your heart drumming against your ribs.

You answer with a soft yawn, stretching your legs across the sofa. “Hey.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Jungkook’s voice filters through the speaker, casual and warm. You can picture him settling onto his own couch, probably lounging like he always does—comfortably careless. Nina’s name drifts into your mind before he even says it. She’s probably there, too.

“Literally nothing, dude,” you say, voice light. “Just clocked off work and catching up on some emails.”

“Anything interesting?”

Your throat tightens. Technically, yes. So much he’d find interesting. Actually, another email—the one from this week—is open and glowing on your screen, practically mocking you with its presence. Your gaze flits to the subject line like it might catch fire. But you can’t bring yourself to read it. And you definitely can’t talk about it. Not to him. Not right now. Not with everything the way it is.

So you laugh a little, fake and breezy. “Nah, not really. You know how it is… What are you up to?”

“Nothing. Nins is showering and I’m just waiting around,” he says, like it’s the most ordinary sentence in the world. “We’ll probably throw on a movie or something.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, fingers tightening slightly around your phone. “Sounds chill,” you manage, and it does sound chill. So chill it hurts.

Because that used to be you.

You were the one he used to wait on. The one he used to watch movies with, no matter how shitty the plot was or how many times you’d both seen it already.

You’re not mad.

You can’t be.

But something inside you sinks a little lower, like a small ship finally giving in to the stormy sea it’s been fighting for years.

“She still into that British drama stuff?” you ask, keeping your voice teasing, light.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, and your chest aches at the sound. You love his laugh. Always have. “We’re rewatching Skins because apparently she has to analyze every character’s trauma.”

You laugh too, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Sounds like something she’d do.”

A silence falls—not awkward, but not quite comfortable either. You hear the distant sound of running water shutting off and your mind starts to race.

She’ll come out soon. He’ll go. The call will end. The moment will be over.

And still, you haven’t said anything. About the email. About the memory. About the way your heart never really stopped hurting since the moment you realized the person you used to love just didn’t love you back.

“Hey, Jungkook?” you say suddenly, a little more breathless than intended.

“Yeah?”

You hesitate. You could tell him. About the night at The House. About the way you still remember how he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. About how that moment—so small, so stupid—changed everything for little you.

But instead, you smile again. That same smile you’ve used to hide everything since you were fifteen.

“Never mind. Just—miss hanging out, that’s all.”

There’s a pause. A flicker of something—regret, maybe—settling into his tone. “Yeah. Me too.”

And when the call ends, and the silence returns, you’re left staring at the glowing screen. The unfinished email waits. Lingering. Like everything you never had the guts to say.

Jungkook’s eyes instinctively flick to the doorway the moment he hears the soft creak of it opening.

There she is.

Nina.

Her hair is piled into a messy bun on top of her head, loose strands sticking to her neck where the steam from the shower still clings to her skin. The faint scent of lavender body wash fills the room in a subtle wave as she pads in barefoot, a white towel tucked securely around her body.

There’s nothing performative in her movements—no sultry glances, no dramatics. She’s just moving through her space, through their space, the way you only do when you’ve truly settled into someone. She flips through her side of the closet, humming quietly under her breath.

And then the towel drops.

Not with flourish, not like a scene out of a movie. Just a simple, unconscious surrender to routine.

Jungkook watches as she pulls on her soft cotton pajama top—the one with a tiny faded strawberry embroidered near the collar—and he feels something stir in his heart.

Comfort, maybe.

Or peace.

Because this is what they have.

A life.

Unapologetically safe. And at this point, nakedness isn’t charged with tension or expectation—it’s just another part of being known. Entirely.

“You look serious,” Nina says suddenly, her voice light as she buttons her top, “Who were you talking to, baby?”

Jungkook blinks, as if snapped out of something. “Oh. Uh, just Y/N.”

She turns, crawling into bed beside him and tossing the blanket over her legs, the corners of her mouth tugging up into a soft smile. “That’s good. How’s she doing?”

“Same old.” He shrugs, pulling her into his arms like he’s done a thousand times before. His voice is steady, but something about it feels a bit... muted.

“I’m really glad you two found your way back to each other,” she murmurs, resting her cheek against his chest. “It’s a good thing. You’ve been through so much together.”

Jungkook swallows. The words settle somewhere low and tight in his stomach.

He is glad. Truly.

But the discomfort that creeps in at the edges of his mind is undeniable.

Why does it suddenly feel like something unspoken is dragging itself between the syllables?

“Yeah,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Me too.”

But even as he says it, he can’t shake the heaviness in his chest—the flicker of hesitation he tried to ignore during the call. The way he glossed over your name. The sudden ache when he heard you say you missed hanging out.

He closes his eyes, holds Nina tighter.

And wonders what it says about him—that he feels safest in the arms of the woman he loves, but part of his heart is still stuck in a memory he never dared to fully face.

“Did you tell her we’ll be back home for good after the wedding?” Nina’s voice is gentle as she peers up at him, her eyes wide and gleaming with that kind of innocent excitement that used to calm Jungkook.

But right now, it makes his chest tighten.

He swallows hard, like the truth’s caught in his throat. “No… I haven’t yet.”

Her brows pinch. “Why not?”

And there it is. The question he’s been avoiding even asking himself.

There’s no real reason—at least not one he can explain out loud. Not one that wouldn’t sound like betrayal. Or weakness. Or something worse.

They are moving back. In just a month, they’ll be packing the last of their things, saying goodbye to their big city apartment, and driving back home—for good. To plan the wedding. To settle into their new house, the one with space for a nursery. To build a future, one with everything they’ve both talked about for years now.

An adult life. A family. A home.

But still, he hasn’t told you.

“I just… haven’t had the right moment,” he lies, fingers absently brushing the hem of Nina’s sleeve as she cuddles closer.

The truth is messier. Uglier.

The truth is—he’s scared.

Because being close to you again always comes with a double edge. One side soft, glowing, nostalgic. Full of laughter, comfort, history. The part of him that missed you more than he realized. The part that aches for the ease of how things once were.

But the other side… the other side is dangerous.

It whispers in quiet moments. Sneaks up when Nina’s laughter fills the room but his mind is somewhere else entirely. It’s the part that remembers how your eyes used to find his in crowded school hallways. How your voice used to sound when you were teasing him about his hair or his favorite songs.

“Okay,” Nina says finally, not pushing further, her voice already melting into sleepiness as she settles against his chest.

Jungkook closes his eyes and tries to will the thoughts away.

He has everything he ever said he wanted.

Nina’s body is warm and soft against his, the quiet rhythm of her breathing syncing with his own as she flicks through Netflix absentmindedly. Her hair fans out over his chest, strands tickling his skin, and the faint scent of her shampoo mixes with the smell of their shared apartment—familiar, grounding.

She’s beautiful. Stupidly beautiful. The kind of beautiful that catches him off guard in the middle of mundane moments like this. And right now, Jungkook feels it more than ever—this throb inside of him, a pull he can’t quite name.

He wraps his arms around her tighter, needing the weight of her, the steadiness. His fingers find her chin, tilting her head just slightly before he leans in and kisses her. It’s slow at first. Then deeper. Not rushed, not urgent—just full of something that shouldn’t be named.

She lets the remote drop.

His hands move to her hair, threading through it like a lifeline. He presses his lips to her jaw, her neck, and then to the curve of her shoulder. She sighs into him, body turning to meet his.

They move together like they’ve done this a hundred times before—because they have. But something feels different tonight. Quieter. Needier. Not desperate in a physical sense, but emotional. Jungkook doesn’t understand why. He just knows he needs this. Needs her.

When they’re done, tangled in sheets and soft silence, her head resting against his shoulder, his eyes drift up to the ceiling.

And the truth—that heavy, restless truth—lingers.

They’ll be back in Cape May in less than a month. Back to the town that raised them, shaped them, bruised and blessed them.

Back to you.

Yeah, he hasn’t told you yet.

He could blame it on timing. He could say he forgot. But really, it’s because every time he thinks about telling you, something yells, "Don't do it."

So, he keeps the truth buried deep in the quiet corners of his mind.

At least for now.

If there’s one thing Nina has always used to define herself, it’s realism. She sees the world for what it is—not for what she wishes it to be. She reads people like well-worn pages, watches patterns, notices silences more than words. And maybe that’s why she’s always known the truth.

She’s the love of Jungkook’s life.

But you?

You’re his soulmate.

Not in the cliché, eye-roll-inducing way, where he’s secretly pining for you while sleeping next to her. No—it’s not about unspoken love or stolen glances. It’s worse, in a way. More subtle. More cruel. This kind of connection doesn’t scream. It hums. It lingers. It shows up in the quietest of moments—the way he softens when talking about you, the unintentional tenderness in his voice, the hesitation before he mentions your name.

Nina has learned to live with it. She’s adapted. She knows him like the back of her hand—she’s memorized the tiny shifts in his mood, the twitch of his jaw when he’s overthinking, the way he taps his foot when trying to make a decision. She’s mapped him, studied him, loved him through every version of himself.

But she wishes she didn’t have to study him so hard.

She wishes it came naturally, the way it came with you.

That part hurts.

Nina doesn’t feel insecure about your dynamic with Jungkook. She’s not one to fall into jealousy’s clutches. She knows her place in his life—she knows where she stands, and more importantly, what she cannot be. She cannot be his soulmate the way you are. She cannot be that magnetic force, that other half. And, strangely, she’s okay with that. She's accepted it because that’s how life works. You can't fight fate.

But she's still human. And sometimes, just sometimes, being human stings.

The sting isn't a deep wound, but it's there—quiet, like a splinter under the skin. And it flares up unexpectedly when Alex, that now lowkey irrelevant presence in their shared world, made his comment. He said it so casually, like a joke, but Nina saw through it immediately. His words stung more than she wanted to admit. She played it cool. Laughed through it. Gotten drunk minutes later and pretended like it never happened. But Nina knew the truth buried beneath that comment, knew the way he genuinely thought you two would have something more than just a friendship.

It wasn’t a joke to him.

And maybe it shouldn't matter to her.

But somehow, it did.

Jungkook and you—there was a weight to it. It wasn’t just the past you shared or the way he lit up when your name came up in conversation. It was something deeper, something Nina couldn’t even fully name.

Her heart twisted, but she refused to let it show. She couldn’t. She was Nina—practical, composed, grounded.

But sometimes, even the strongest of us feel the earth tremble beneath our feet. Even the most realistic of us falter in the face of truth we don’t want to see.

So logically, the selfish part of her—the deeply human part—was relieved when you were gone. When you weren't a presence in their life. When she didn’t have to watch him recalibrate every time your name appeared on a screen.

But now that you’re back, she’s surprised by how steady she feels. Maybe even grateful. Because the truth is—she missed you too. More than she ever let herself admit.

You were her friend once. Maybe still are, in some broken way.

And now you’re back to him.

And just like that, somehow, back to her too.

Because even if it’s complicated, even if it aches in all the quiet places of their hearts—both of them need you.

Each in their own messy, untranslatable, heartbreakingly honest way.

Jungkook’s soft snores fill the bedroom like a lullaby. But Nina? She’s wide awake. Restless. Her body’s still, but her mind won’t shut off. She’s been tossing for hours, trying to count sheep, breaths, memories—anything. Nothing works.

So, she does what anyone would.

She grabs her phone.

The screen glows harsh in the dark as she opens Instagram, her thumb swiping through stories like it's a lifeline. Mindless. Automatic. Until—

There it is.

Your face.

A new selfie.

It’s a pretty one. Really pretty.

Nina stares at it for a moment longer than she wants to admit. Her stomach twists, and she doesn’t know why.

Maybe she does.

She wonders if Jungkook’s seen it already.

Wonders if it made him smile.

She doesn’t want to care.

Before she can stop herself, she replies to the story.

“OMG GIRLIE, you’re so pretty.”

It’s genuine.

You reply almost instantly.

“TYYYY soo much.”

That should be the end of it.

But something gnaws at her.

That tiny thing—the one that keeps clawing at her ribs every time Jungkook mentions your name.

“We should totally have a coffee again once we get back.”

The words slip out too easily. Too casual. Too light for how heavy they feel.

Your reply is harmless.

“Sure! Hope you guys will come to visit soon.”

There it is. The knife twist.

You still think it’s a visit.

Nina stares at your message. Then, her thumbs type before her brain can catch up.

“Visiting? Girl, we’ll be back there for good in a month.”

The second she hits send, her stomach sinks.

She shouldn’t have said it.

She knows that.

Knows it too well.

You take a second to reply. Just a second. But it’s enough to send Nina’s mind spiraling into a familiar place. She stares at the screen, unmoving, unsure whether to lock it and pretend this conversation never happened or to keep waiting like she’s waiting for a sign—something small and stupid to validate this little mistake she just made. And it was a mistake. She knows it. Telling you about the move wasn’t her news to share, wasn’t something she was supposed to say. But it slipped out anyway, like her subconscious wanted you to hear it from her. And maybe it did.

Nina wonders what you’re feeling on the other side of the screen. Are you surprised? Confused? Are you smiling to yourself, maybe rereading her message to make sure you understood it right? Or are you disappointed? Maybe even a little hurt that it was her who told you instead of Jungkook. Secretly—silently—Nina hopes you are. And God, she hates herself for that. But the feeling still lingers, low in her stomach like guilt wrapped in jealousy, disguised as justification.

She doesn't think she's a bad person, though. At least, she tries not to. She’s loved you for years in the kind of quiet, complicated way only someone who has watched from the sidelines can love. Appreciated you, even when it stung. She knows what you mean to Jungkook. Knows he lights up in a different way when your name comes up. But she’s tried not to mind. Tried to carve a place for herself in his orbit without being bitter about yours. Still, there’s something cruel about always being the second kind of important. The “I chose you” important. Not the “I couldn’t help it” kind.

Because that’s the thing about you. You were never a decision. You were never something anyone had to choose. You were just... you. Effortless. Natural. The sun in a sky people plan their days around. Nina, on the other hand, always felt like something circumstantial. Picked because of proximity. Picked because she stayed long enough. She was Yoongi’s twin. She was Jungkook’s girlfriend, now his fiancée. She’s proud of those roles, grateful for them even. But it’s hard to ignore the ache that whispers: You were the one who waited in line. She was the one who got in for free.

And so, maybe that’s why she said it. Why she let it slip even when every fiber of her being warned her not to. Just once, she wanted to be the one to say something first. To watch your reaction and feel like she had the upper hand, even if just for a moment. She knows it doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t change the fact that Jungkook didn’t tell you himself. And that silence? That’s what eats away at her the most.

Because if he hasn’t told you, it means something. Nina doesn’t know exactly what—but she’s smart. She’s always known she wasn't his soulmate. She's the woman he wants to build a life with, sure. But the difference is: you didn’t have to be wanted. You already were.

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nerdygirlramblings · 4 months ago

Text

omega!soldier continues

Now that you've passed your qualifiers, Price seems almost cocky about having you train with the rest of the team. You're no longer alone with Ghost in the gym but sparring with him, Soap, and Gaz. One teaches you a move and has you practice it on the others: individual hits, combinations, attacks and tactical retreats.

They test your endurance and teach you more efficient ways to fight in close combat. Before them, you might have claimed decent fighting skills, but they push you hard, and you realize you were only fooling yourself. You drill moves over and over until they become muscle memory. Then they set you up to spar beta and omega rookies who won't make waves when you beat them.

When you ask why so much intense fight training is necessary, Ghost replies, "We're a small team, Ren. Often sent in where bigger groups can't easily go. And we rarely have backup." For a moment, his eyes cloud over with a haunted film, but he blinks and it's gone, replaced with pure determination. "'S just us. Need you to be able to defend yourself, defend the pack, in close combat situations." You don't correct his comment about the pack; though you aren't pack yet, you understand how important these men are to one another.

They set you up with routines to maintain your muscle strength, building up what you need to pull off the kinds of maneuvers they show you for taking down larger, most likely more physically powerful, opponents.

Occasionally, even Price comes to training, and that's when things get interesting. When Price is there, you don't do your typical weight training, nor do you spar. Instead , when he's there, Price sets the four of you up in competition on some of the PT qualifier exercises. You're unsurprised to find you can do more pull-ups then Ghost and that Gaz has everyone beat with sit-ups. You're completely floored, however, at how thoroughly you beat all theee men with the beep test.

You can't keep the confusion from you glance when Price catches your eye. He hums and says, "We all gotta keep on top of our training." He smirks and adds, "An' a little friendly competition always brings out the best in these boys."

Soap and Gaz join you on the shooting range. Gaz focuses on your short range weapons; Soap helps Ghost train you on the sniper rifles. "'s good Ren," he tells you. "Price wants to try ye on a few things tae see where ye fit." You've learned by now that he and Ghost tend to take the sniper's nest, and Gaz and Price tend to be the first line breech crew. Price's desire to see where he can best use your skills is understandable and completely expected with his role as task force captain.

Every once in awhile, Price joins you on the shooting range, and the rest of the task force have you show off what you can do like someone showing off their pet's newly learned tricks. If it were anyone else, you might mind the attitude, but you've come to recognize the pride in their voices and stances at how much you're learning and how well you're doing.

You don't ever say it, but you are too. You don't want Price to regret his choice to have you on the task force, so his approval, the lowly murmured "good girl" when you hit a target again, means the world. You know it could easily be condescending, especially from an alpha to an omega, but the warm, honeyed tone is pure appreciation.

As days slide into weeks, there's a shift on base. Alpha scents are more aggressive, dominant. The betas' smells take on an undercurrent of stress. Everywhere you go, there seem to be more people.

The gym is busy when you enter. Most machines and free weights are being used. There are soldiers practicing on the speed bag. A crowd rings the mat as you take down other sergeants - betas and alphas - bodies pressing in but leaving a wide berth around the 141.

On the shooting range, you need to wait for an open lane, or the armory only lets you borrow one or two weapons at a time. And forget moving the target's distance; there are too many soldiers waiting to shift things more than once, so some days you only work with long range weapons while others are short range. Regardless of the day, your shots cluster tightly on your targets.

It strikes you as strange, this seemingly sudden influx of soldiers. But when you ask about it, no one else seems to notice.

"Ah havnae noticed. Maybe squads schedules changed?" Soap proffers.

Gaz is blase, shrugging off your question with, "Nothing seems different to me."

Ghost is the one whose response feels least like it's gaslighting you, though you feel he's still missing something. "Yeah, I seen 'em loitering about. They only wish they were half as good as us. Need all the help they can get to be anywhere near our level "

It comes to a head in the mess at supper a few days later. You're in line between Ghost and Gaz when an alpha storms in, the scent of ozone pouring off him. You can't see any visible rank insignia, but that doesn't matter when he growls, "Which a you cunts is Ren?"

Every hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you momentarily freeze, before a gentle bump from Gaz's tray reminds you to keep moving. You try and put the irate alpha out of mind, grabbing some meatloaf and carrots. But the second, lower growl, the aggressive attack barely restrained, of "Who the fuck is Ren?" is hard to ignore.

Simon and Gaz square up on either side of you and herd you to the table where Price and Soap wait. By now more than half the mess is watching the alpha. Some are spoiling for a fight themselves, the tension you've noticed for days being given a possible outlet. Others are sensibly trying to eat and leave unobtrusively through side doors.

When the alpha snarls and moves to grab a rookie walking by, Price and Ghost are on their feet in an instant. They crowd the other alpha, and Price leans into his space, a hair's breath from the other soldier's face. You can't hear what's said, but you watch the man's face go from red to nearly purple before draining of all color. Price turns to come back, and you watch Ghost band his arms around the aggressive soldier and frog-march him out of the mess.

The tension in the room dissipates almost immediately. You feel like you can breathe again.

Price and Ghost return to the table and sit down to their meals. Everyone tucks in as though nothing happened. A few quiet, tense moments of eating pass before you can't hold you tongue any longer.

"Why did he want me? I've never seen him before," you say, voice low so only your task force can hear you.

"'s nothin' to worry about," Price tells you. "Ferget 'em and eat."

You try, biting down a forkful that turns to ash on your tongue. Soon, though, you simply stop eating. Your fork sits, unmoving, on your plate. Price drops his gaze to it and where you wring your hands.

He sighs, put-upon, but cracks. "'E's mad tha' ya kicked 'im off the board," Price finally admits.

"The boards?" You look around at your team. "What boards?"

"They're like scoreboards," Kyle tells you between bites. "Names of top performances from everything from pushups per minute to time on the distances to tightness on shooting targets."

The furrow between your brows deepens. "How can I have kicked someone off something I didn't know existed?" Your heart rate has been climbing since the alpha first growled your name.

Price ran a hand down his face. "I'm afraid 's my fault, Ren." He meets you eye and tells you, "I been submitting results from some 'a the tests we've done and your work on the range. Seems like no one ever bother to think an omega might make the boards, so no one paid attention before." His bitter disbelief is on full display with his the last sentence. "Told brass not to use your name or designation to keep ya safe, but they had to put something down."

Your name on the boards. You at the top of base records. You don't care if other soldiers know who you are. The idea that Price is so proud he wants you to earn more stars and bars is enough. You finally feel like part of the pack team.

series masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: @sirbonesly

#cod #poly!141 #poly!141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #omegaverse #omegaverse 141 #omegaverse tf 141 #a/b/o #a/b/o 141 #a/b/o tf 141 #john price #johnny mactavish #kyle garrick #simon riley #nerdygirl says #fierce wars and faithful loves

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prael · 3 months ago

Text

Conciliation

ILLIT Moka x Yunah // part 2 to Punishment

words: 6,035 Masterlist

Two weeks have gone by. Two weeks since the incident in their dorm room. For Yunah, it's as though that night never happened. It was just some afterthought that had been shoved down in the deep corners of her memory, as though she would sooner forget and have Moka pretend it was nothing at all.

Moka thinks of nothing else.

She thinks about it in her classes, daydreaming when she should be practising. Rehearsals have become a stop-start procedure, with everyone turning to Moka with the same question: are you okay? She feels so pathetic. Embarrassed at herself, but still thinking, wondering, wishing, that maybe tonight might be that night; that Yunah might snap at some point and give her just a single touch.

She's thought about doing it again, just the same way, touching herself while Yunah is around. Even the mere idea has Moka wet with shame. It would work, surely, it has to work. Then Moka talks herself out of it. Doing it again, trying to instigate a reaction, she may as well just confess, beg, and plead with Yunah. Admit that she likes her. Tell her just how crazy it makes Moka when she walks around the room in only a t-shirt and panties. When she shakes her hair loose out of a ponytail, her brunette hair cascades in the moonlight, looking so soft and thick, and Moka can't get over her.

They're on their way out of the country, for another big show. Another sleepless night spent travelling. Another opportunity for Yunah to glare at Moka when she's obviously not focused or too busy stumbling through her moves. Another opportunity for her to sit there, only her and her dirty, little thoughts.

There's a slight turbulence, enough to make the sleeping Yunah move in her seat, her head rolling to the side. She looks peaceful and beautiful. That same fringe she's so particular about always ends up in her eyes, so naturally, Moka wants to reach up and push it away, but she forces herself back, that's the last thing she wants; to wake her and look suspicious.

"Not sleeping?" A voice from the other side, makes Moka tear her eyes away from Yunah and find Minju. Minju gives a curious look at Yunah before returning her gaze to Moka.

"Can't sleep," Moka confesses with a sigh.

Minju doesn't reply at first, the look she is giving, makes Moka believe she is contemplating whether she should share or not. "Me neither. Keep thinking about tomorrow."

Moka hums a vague affirmative in response. She wants to appear agreeable and that she isn't preoccupied with the thoughts of someone else.

Minju gives her a wry smirk. "What about you? You keep spacing out."

Her question strikes a chord in Moka. For some reason, she can't deny it or lie about what's been going through her head, and even when she should probably deny it, Moka still finds herself talking about her. "Have you ever liked someone who hated your guts? Like so much it physically hurts," Moka can't help the questions slipping past her lips. It's pathetic really. She should know better, and she knows she's saying too much and too openly, but it's not her fault. She just can't handle it all, not for another minute.

"Are you saying there's a guy you like?" Minju asks, which at least offers Moka the reassurance that the others haven't realised what's going on; why else would she ask that? "You know we're not allowed to date anyone, Moka."

"I know, and I'm not going to date anyone, but I can still like someone, right?"

Minju laughs. "Yeah, you can do what you like," she replies while stealing another look at the older girl across from them, sleeping. "So why does he hate your guts then?"

"Well, I—"

Yunah sighs, breaking the conversation as the pair suddenly falls quiet. They freeze like deer caught in the headlights of a car as Yunah, shifts in her seat, adjusting her position before relaxing again. There is a relief between them, letting out a heavy breath at the realisation that their friend is still very much asleep.

"Lucky her," Minju finally says, shaking her head. "I can't wait for us all to be back in our hotel rooms and having some proper sleep." Minju sighs, turning back to Moka. "You were saying?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it, forget I said anything," Moka rambles. She finds herself silently cursing herself. If the truth of her desires slipped and spilt out, there's no telling what kind of trouble she would be in. But Minju looks at her in a strange sort of understanding, nodding and giving her a reassuring smile.

Moka returns the sentiment and lays her head on her friend's shoulder. Her heartbeat starts to slow down, and as time passes, sleep draws in, luring her into its clutches, and at last, her eyelids flutter shut.

It's 4 am and they're shambling into the hotel lobby, weary, eyes burning, muscles tired, with sore shoulders and legs.

"We've booked rooms for you all. We just went with the same arrangement as the dorm," the manager explains, sending Moka's heart crashing. She and Yunah. Of course. She nods weakly and trudges to the lift alongside her members.

Yunah opens the door, and Moka follows. They haven't spoken a word to each other. The moment the hotel door is closed, and Moka drops her bag on the floor, Yunah takes off her jacket, hanging it on a hook. Moka slips her shoes off, trying her hardest not to make eye contact.

"Moka?"

Fuck. Why couldn't she just walk past without saying anything? Moka's cheeks feel hot. Why now? She glances up, and the look she receives from Yunah doesn't give anything away.

"What's gotten into you? Are you sick?" She snaps, walking right up to her. A rough hand takes hold of her chin, forcing her face up and it shocks Moka so much that it knocks her off her axis for a moment.

There she is. Again. So close. It takes a moment, or three, to figure out what she even said. Moka goes to shake her head, but with her face being held so firmly in place, it's impossible. "No, I'm fine." She swallows. "Just a little nervous."

"Why are you lying to me?"

Her face is still gripped, she's forced to keep eye contact with her and she hates it. She hates that her skin prickles as Yunah's beautiful gaze pours down.

"Whatever," Yunah says incredulously, her hand holding Moka's jaw. Moka nods as best as she can and then she's released. She misses her touch the moment Yunah's hand is gone and she's left to drop her head. "We can't have you being distracted tomorrow. Just get it together."

The older girl retreats into the bathroom, closing the door and leaving a disgruntled Moka alone. She could scream, but instead, she swallows down her frustration.

Moka undresses and slips into her shorts and tank top. She flops onto the soft covers and waits. Curses and empty wishes run through her mind; her fist tightens into a frustrated ball and her eyebrows furrow. How is she supposed to do anything like this? How can she think about anything other than her?

Soon, Yunah returns, but all Moka gets from her is silence, nothing, absolutely nothing, and yet here she is, lying and waiting. Pathetic, it's downright fucking pathetic. She takes a deep breath and lets herself turn and stare at her back. "Yunah?"

"What?"

"Why did you make me feel good?"

"You talk about that like it meant something," Yunah responds, turning her attention away from her phone. Her beautiful hair fans out against the pillow.

"Did it?"

Yunah responds with her own question, "Did you want it to?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry." She turns her attention back to her phone, effectively dismissing her and the conversation altogether.

"Please—"

"Goodnight, Moka," Yunah bites. Her tone leaves no more room for discussion. No room for questioning.

Moka clamps her mouth shut, squeezing her eyes tightly closed. What more could she say? How many ways could she plead with her before it becomes demeaning? But the silence in her room makes the ache between her thighs feel unbearable and impossible to ignore.

It's nearly an hour later when Moka gives in, dipping her hands between her legs. She rubs against the front of her shorts and shudders as she teeters on the brink of losing her senses and giving in to her desires. But the bed shifts, the sheets move, and she stops.

Yunah rolls over and she looks at Moka, as though expecting her to do something, anything. The eye contact alone has Moka feeling so small and helpless.

"Do it," Yunah whispers.

"W-what?"

"I know you want to. These past weeks you've been so distracted. I know you're always thinking of it, of what happened, what I did. I see the way you look at me."

"I... I'm sorry."

Yunah rolls her eyes. "Just do it."

"But you hate it. It makes you uncomfortable, I can't—" Yunah cuts Moka off as she moves closer, she slips her fingers past the waistband of Moka's shorts, down to the wet warmth of her cunt. "Yunah," she whimpers. Moka bites her lip to hold in the noises, but it's impossible to stay silent as Yunah runs teasing touches over her lips, threatening to slip between them.

"You can't do it, can you? Not on your own, not since I've touched you." She says it so plainly that Moka can't help but agree. She knows the truth. "But you don't want to ask for my help because you know I'll just say no. So here I am, doing it for you." Yunah's finger slides between Moka's lips and runs up to her clit. It makes Moka gasp. "Think about why that is. Why would I want to help you?" she murmurs as her fingers circle the hard, little nub.

"I don't know." The words are barely audible.

"I think you do," Yunah says and then her fingers go away.

"No, don't stop."

"I know it's hard, Moka," Yunah whispers. Her fingers are back. They're running through the lips of Moka's cunt, sliding easily, making the skin slick and sensitive. Moka can hardly think as the fingers run up and down, stroking and teasing, edging closer to the opening. "But I need you to say it."

"Because," Moka chokes out. Her head is spinning, and she feels so dizzy. She can hardly form a single thought. All she knows is how good she feels, how desperate she is for those fingers. "You like making me feel good. Because you want it just as bad."

"Because I want it, Moka," Yunah whispers, pushing a single finger into Moka's tight entrance. It sinks in so deep and she moans. She's so fucking sensitive. The feeling of the finger as it enters and stretches her, the feeling as it curls inside, the way it moves slowly and deliberately, is enough to have her trembling. Yunah has to lean in and put her mouth by Moka's ear. "I can't get the fucking thought of you out of my head."

"Oh god."

The words have the desired effect and Yunah's hand moves faster, the thrusts come harder and Moka is completely helpless. Her body starts to arch, her back rises off the mattress and her chest is pulled upwards as if offering herself to the other girl. Her little chest rises, her nipples hardening under the material of her top. Yunah looks at her body and smiles. She pushes a second finger inside, her thumb begins to work her clit and Moka's hands are holding tight to the pillow behind her.

Moka doesn't care that she's moaning, or that she can't stop saying her roommate's name. All that she cares about is how her body is starting to clench, how her hips are bucking and how her legs have gone so rigid, and it's just the best feeling, the best thing that she's ever experienced in her life. Moka opens her eyes and finds Yunah staring. Her face is so close; Moka wants her closer.

She has the overwhelming desire to taste Yunah's lips, but not the strength to pull her down, so she settles for the fingers inside of her and the hand that keeps working her cunt until the orgasm comes.

Moka pulls the pillow tight around her head, muffling the sound that spills from her mouth. She feels her walls tightening around Yunah's digits, her entire body clenching and shaking, and her eyes rolling back. She's so close.

Yunah climbs over her, kneeling between her slender thighs and her fingers never leave. They're so deep. The pressure is too intense. She feels the walls inside of her start to tighten, the heat growing inside her. Moka's head turns and buries into the pillow she holds onto for dear life.

"Look at me, Moka," she coos, leaning into her. "I said look at me."

Yunah takes Moka's hand, prying it away from the pillow. Powerless to resist, Moka's arm is pushed above her head, and then the other. They're placed together, held under Yunah's grasp and Moka's head is free and forced to look at the beautiful woman on top of her, forced to see those deep brown eyes and that gorgeous hair, that pretty face with the full lips, the perfect lips, the ones Moka wishes were pressed against her. But that would be too much. Moka would never want anything more ever again. If she kisses her then it's game over, all she would ever need would be right here. Moka could never think about anyone or anything other than her, ever again.

Moka's stomach tightens, and her face contorts. She lies there helplessly as she is overcome, and the climax hits. She can't help it. She's moaning so loudly and she's clenching around Yunah's fingers. Her legs shake and her arms try to pull themselves away, to have something to cling to. But she can't move. All Moka can do is give into the pleasure. It washes over her, the sensation coursing through her body, making her toes curl.

She leaks messily onto Yunah's hand. The sounds of wetness fill her ears, the lewd, squelching noises as the fingers continue to work her pussy, fucking her through the high and prolonging the sensation until her mind blanks, her body convulses and her voice breaks into a pathetic whine. Moka's head thrashes back and forth, and she's crying, sobbing out loud.

She's left panting, chest heaving as she looks at Yunah who's smiling. That beautiful smile, the one she loves to see.

"You're so pretty when you cum, Moka." She says it most sweetly, and her eyes seem so sincere. Moka wants to kiss her more than ever, and she wants Yunah to feel good too, just like she did. But her body feels like jelly and she can barely move. So she can only lay there and try to catch her breath.

Yunah lowers, laying her head on Moka's chest, her ear pressing gently to her heart, as though listening to it. Her body still twitches and shakes and her legs remain spread with Yunah still nestled between them. Moka tries to calm herself, and she can feel Yunah's breathing slow and soften, her weight shifting on top of her.

"I'm sorry, Moka. For ignoring you, but I knew this would happen. I knew that once I gave in, I wouldn't be able to stop," she murmurs. Moka can only manage a hum in reply. She doesn't even understand what Yunah means, not really, she can barely understand her words. Yunah puts her hand on her waist and slips her own pyjama shorts over her hips and down her long legs. She kicks them off and they're left tangled up at the foot of the bed.

It's when Yunah raises her head from Moka's chest that Moka realises what's happening. Yunah slips her fingers into the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down and off of her legs and throwing them aside. Moka feels so exposed. She can't hide the fact she's blushing, that she's so nervous, that this is what she's been waiting for, what she's wanted.

Yunah pulls her own shirt over her head and throws that off the bed too, and now Moka's staring. Tight and toned. Perky. It's like she can't help but let her eyes roam. She's the most perfect girl in the world. Moka's hands reach up to her, running along the curves of Yunah's body, the smoothness of her skin. Her thumbs brush over her nipples, feeling them harden and rise.

Yunah sighs, and Moka wants to make her do that again. She wants to hear all her pretty noises, just like Yunah said she loved hearing hers. So, she sits up and her hands go around Yunah, holding onto her, bringing her closer. She's so tall. Moka's face presses into her chest and she breathes against her, feeling the heat and inhaling the sweet scent of her.

Moka is so nervous. So anxious that she will do something wrong. She has to force herself to lift her head and part her lips, to lean forward and place her mouth over the stiff, little peak on Yunah's breast. She sucks, pulling it in, feeling the way it moves, the way Yunah lets out a breath and the hand that comes up to her hair. Fingers run through her black locks, nails drag along her scalp, and Moka moves her head to the other, repeating the motion, sucking the skin, flicking her tongue over it and pulling it with her lips.

Yunah moans and the grip tightens, she holds her head, and the other arm wraps around Moka. Reassurance in the form of a touch. It tells her she's doing well, that Yunah's liking it. That's all that matters. Moka wants her to like it, she wants to please her, and she wants to know how to make her feel good. She smiles against her smooth skin, placing kisses, licks, and bites all over her. Appreciation for this girl and her beautiful, wonderful body.

Then Moka finds herself lying on her back. Yunah climbs on top of her and Moka's heart thuds hard against her chest. This is everything she's wanted.

"Don't freak out," she whispers, her breath against Moka's face.

"Never."

Yunah shifts her weight and then Moka feels it, the wet heat of Yunah's cunt against hers, and the sensation of her body on hers. Moka looks down at their bodies and can see the point of their connection, where their skin meets. The sight of it alone makes her mouth go dry, her stomach flips, and it takes all her strength to keep herself together. And then Yunah rocks her hips, grinding against Moka, her slick pussy rubbing against Moka's. The sensation of her skin moving, her wetness, it makes Moka's eyes roll back.

"Yunah..." Moka gasps, her body arching, and Yunah pushes her down.

She does it again, and again, sliding against her, pushing her hips hard. Her breathing is growing faster, and heavier, and her moans are so quiet. Sparks ignite in her lower body. The pressure, the heat. It feels so good to have Yunah against her like that.

Yunah leans down and buries her face in the crook of her neck and she kisses and nibbles at her skin there, whispering against the spot. "Why does this feel so good?"

"I don't know," Moka gasps. She's losing her breath already. She's panting and she feels so hot and dizzy, but in the best possible way.

Yunah can't hold back, she can't hide the fact that Moka makes her lose her control. This cute, petite little thing below her; with her innocent, big brown eyes, and her adorable smile, that makes Yunah want to melt, she's her weakness. Moka, who she heard so many times, night after night. Moka, who she's ignored and tried to put from her mind, but can't. And now she has her. She has her little Moka beneath her, squirming and panting and whining, and Yunah's hips can't help but rut down into her.

Yunah can't get enough of it. Moka's pussy feels so soft and warm against her own. The slick mess that grows between them, it's addicting. The sounds are even worse. She wants to make more. She wants Moka to scream.

All the confusion Yunah once felt has vanished, and in its place, a sense of belonging, a feeling that she has to do this. That she's supposed to be in this bed with Moka and no one else. She never understood it. She was scared to admit it. But now there is nothing else she could ever ask for.

Yunah takes Moka's hand, interlocking fingers and squeezing. It's reassuring, and Moka's grip on her hand is strong, it tells Yunah she's feeling the same way.

"Moka."

"Yes," Moka answers.

Yunah looks down at the younger girl. Moka's face is contorted with pleasure, her lips are parted, and she's breathing so hard. She's completely lost to her sensations, and the sight makes Yunah's heart flutter, her skin burns and her body feels weak. "Moka," she whispers again. This time Moka's eyes open, looking straight at her. Their gazes lock and their fingers squeeze. "I like you."

"I like you too." Moka's smile is the most beautiful thing Yunah has ever seen, it triggers an instinct to fuck her harder. Moka's hand snaps to Yunah's hip and holds her tightly. She's moaning louder now. She can't hide it.

The bed creaks, the headboard hitting the wall. The sheets become tangled. They're sweaty and panting, and Moka's moans grow more desperate by the second.

Yunah can't stop herself any longer. Her stomach tenses tight, her body is on the verge of breaking and she can't take much more. "Moka," she calls her name, she's saying it so desperately. "Fuck, I'm going to cum." She can't hold on. Moka feels too good. Everything about this moment is perfect. It feels so right. Yunah can feel her own pussy twitch, she's getting closer to that edge. She can hear Moka whine, she's almost there. She wants Moka to finish. She needs it. "Cum with me."

"I want it, please Yunah. Please make me cum."

Yunah grinds harder. Moka's moans are so pretty. They fill her ears and they're the only sound in the room. They're music, they're the most perfect thing she's ever heard and the best song Moka has ever sung.

Yunah feels Moka's fingers tighten on her hip as she bucks her own up to meet Yunah's thrusts, and the sensation overwhelms them both. They cling to each other, both bodies trembling as the climax washes over them. Moka cries out, and it's loud. She doesn't even try to muffle herself as she squeezes Yunah's hand, and her hips jolt against hers. Yunah's face buries itself in Moka's neck, groaning into the skin, kissing, biting and sucking as the heat consumes her and her mind blanks, the pleasure takes over.

They lay there for what feels like forever, panting, their hearts thumping in their chests, the sound filling their ears.

It's then that Yunah looks up, pulling her head away. She looks down at Moka. Moka, her Moka, staring back up at her with her big eyes. The most gorgeous girl she's ever met. Her skin is so smooth and flawless. Her little nose, her cute lips, and the black, messy hair splayed on the pillow behind her, framing her face like a painting.

"Moka."

"Yunah."

Yunah leans down, pressing their foreheads together and Moka smiles, she can feel it against her face. Their breaths mingle and their hearts are so close, and Moka is holding onto her.

"I shouldn't have," Yunah pants, "shouldn't have lied to myself. Shouldn't have tried to ignore this."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not okay." She can feel Moka's lips brushing against hers. They're so close. It's just a little movement to close the distance between them, but Moka does it. She pushes her head up, and then Yunah's lips part. She kisses her and Yunah can't help but kiss her back, her tongue slipping into her mouth. Their tongues swirl and slide. Moka moans against her lips. The sound sends shivers down her spine. And Yunah wants her. She wants her so bad.

Moka is panting when Yunah breaks the kiss.

"It's okay now," Moka whispers, her breath ghosting over her. Yunah feels so weak. She's completely helpless.

"I think we need to talk about some stuff. But not now, not right now."

"No, not now," Moka replies with a giggle, leaning up and stealing another kiss.

Yunah gives her a lazy smile, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. She rolls onto her back, lying next to Moka, their legs still half-tangled. They lie in a comfortable silence. It feels so natural and normal as if it were always supposed to happen, that they were always meant to end up here. Yunah turns and looks at her, watching Moka stare at the ceiling.

"Is it weird that I want to do it again?" Yunah asks.

"Probably," Moka answers. She looks at her, grinning, "But so do I."

Thirty minutes later and Yunah finds herself mounted over Moka's face.

She's on her knees, straddling the girl, and the tip of her tongue is tracing patterns against her cunt. She's writing out love letters with her tongue. Signs her name on her clit and makes her legs shake.

Yunah braces, flat-palmed against the wall and throws her head back as she cries out Moka's name, grinding her pussy against the tongue. Sensitive and overused, yet still she wants this. She has to. It's not an option at this point. She's going to ride her until she can't possibly take anymore.

There's no coming back from this. There is only this, them, this room. The whole world has fallen away. It doesn't matter.

Moka is all that matters.

The warm tongue pushes past her lips and sinks into the soft heat, tasting her from the inside. She's moaning into Yunah's cunt, sending the most beautiful vibrations against her and Yunah is so fucking sensitive. Her thighs are shaking and she feels weak, she's struggling to hold herself up, but she can't bring herself to get off her.

"Your tongue, fuck," Yunah moans. The wet tongue laps at the mess, licking up her slick. Yunah can feel Moka swallowing, gulping her down, her little noises growing louder as she feasts. She's going to cum all over that pretty face. She's going to ruin Moka's perfect features and make them shine. Yunah is so close. She can't stop herself from thrusting forward. Her pussy is aching for more, throbbing as Moka eats her. She needs this, wants this.

"Moka... I can't stop, please don't stop," Yunah pants, pushing herself back onto her. Moka grips Yunah's thighs and digs her nails into them. "Fuck!" Yunah squeals. Her hips jerk forward. It's happening. It's too much. Moka's tongue won't stop, it swirls inside of her, and Yunah's legs are trembling.

Her thighs close tight around Moka's face, trapping it between her legs and her back arches, her mouth open, her voice hoarse and broken as she cums, and the walls inside of her clench tight.

And Moka is still eating her out. Yunah can feel the hot mess dripping from her pussy. She feels so sensitive. She can barely stand it, and her body twitches and spasms, and her heart pounds so hard. Her mind blanks. She's so tired, her body aching and exhausted, but her pussy still wants more.

"Yunah," Moka calls to her, patting her thigh and bringing her back from the brink of collapse, "Yunah, I can't breathe." Her little, muffled pleas have her snapping back to reality, realising that Moka's face has gone bright red. Yunah shifts, and she watches the way the girl gasps for air.

"Fuck, Moka." Yunah climbs from her and collapses beside her, chest heaving, sweat coating her skin. "Are you alright?"

Moka doesn't respond at first. She lays there, taking a breath and then she's turning, moving and climbing onto Yunah. "More than alright."

Yunah smiles at her, a sleepy smile that makes Moka blush, and she reaches up to push her black hair from her eyes. Her pretty little eyes are half-lidded and glazed, and her cheeks are rosy and flushed. Lips wet, with Yunah's arousal, it might be the hottest thing she's ever seen. "You're so pretty."

Moka giggles, a bashful laugh as she looks away. "Stop it."

"No," Yunah whispers with a smirk that she knows Moka likes. "I won't."

She flips Moka over and the girl lands with a yelp, a surprised and adorable little sound. She takes her liberties, to kiss and to bite, to suck her skin. Yunah is marking her. Deep kisses on her neck, bites that make Moka's body flinch and writhe, and her little noises are like the prettiest melody in the world. "So pretty," she repeats. "All mine."

Yunah moves down her body, her kisses trailing and leaving little bruises. She sucks her nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue, sucking and nibbling on the stiff peak and making Moka's body buck up. Her mouth goes to the underside of her breasts, to the flat expanse of her stomach. She sinks her teeth in and Moka is whining. Her back is arched, her head pushed back and she's gripping the sheets, and Yunah is getting closer and closer to her destination. "My pretty girl," she murmurs into the smooth skin.

"Yunah," Moka whines and Yunah looks up, finding her staring, biting her lip. Her eyes are wide and desperate, pleading.

She lifts Moka's leg and kisses the back of her thigh. The younger girl is so sensitive. Her skin shivers as Yunah's mouth moves closer to her core. "Once we're home, Moka, I want to fuck you. Like really fuck you, hard, fast. I've seen those videos. What you watch when you're on your own." Moka squeals and her face goes crimson. She covers her head with a pillow. Yunah can't help the smile as she continues, "I want to do those things with you. One of those strap-ons. You'll look so pretty taking it."

Yunah kisses the girl's clit and Moka's entire body flinches. A hand shoots to Yunah's hair and grabs tight, holding onto the locks. She smiles against her, teasing her pussy, her mouth kissing and sucking on the lips of her cunt. "You can do anything you want to me," Moka gasps. Yunah can't help the laugh that slips out, a laugh of amusement and happiness, and Moka is squirming.

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that." Yunah kisses the mess from her lips, and Moka lets out the cutest, most frustrated noise, her hips lifting and her back arching.

"You can use me."

Yunah stops for a second. She raises her head and finds Moka looking at her. There is a blush to her cheeks and she looks embarrassed, and maybe even a little shy, but that glint in her eye is undeniable.

Yunah lowers herself, pressing a soft kiss to Moka's inner thigh. She takes her time, making a show of it, and Moka's breathing is getting heavier, more impatient. "Yeah?" She kisses her again. "Let me bend you over?" Another kiss. "Hold your face down on the bed while I fuck you?"

"Please," Moka whines, "Yes, yes."

"What else?" Yunah's eyes flick up. Moka's chest is rising, falling, rising.

Moka whines again. She throws her head back. Her body trembles. Yunah kisses her cunt. It's a deep kiss. It has Moka's hips bucking against her lips. "You can be rough with me," she finally manages, her voice breathy.

"Rough?" Yunah's eyebrow arches. She dips her tongue past the wet entrance and laps at Moka's heat. The girl's body is writhing against her mouth and Yunah can't help the muffled giggle. She's so cute like this, so easy to tease. Moka is panting. Her face is contorted in a desperate need for more, for release.

"If you want to," she mumbles, and Yunah is so tempted to tease her further. But Yunah is just as eager. She is so desperate for more of her taste, her body, her scent.

"Maybe," she whispers against the wet lips, "maybe, I'd rather be soft with you." Yunah sinks two fingers into her tight, wet hole. Moka gasps, and then moans. Yunah's mouth latches to the little nub of her clit, sucking it and swirling her tongue. The fingers thrust into her and curl. The walls tighten and tremble. "Take my time, fuck you slowly."

Yunah starts a slow rhythm with her fingers. Moka is whimpering, moaning and trying to buck into the fingers. But Yunah is stronger. Her free hand grabs the younger girl's thigh and forces her down, keeping her still and making her accept the pace.

"Slowly," Yunah repeats, "So slow you'll think it's torture. And I won't let you cum, not for a long time, until you can't bear it anymore." She kisses the skin, kisses her pussy, and then looks at Moka who's staring. She's flushed, her eyes wide and needy, her lips parted, and her body is trembling. "Until your little body is begging for release." She pushes another finger into Moka. She can feel the tightness around her digits and the way she throbs.

"Oh fuck," Moka moans.

"Or maybe I'll fuck you hard and fast." Yunah pushes down hard on Moka's thigh, and the pace picks up, the fingers slamming in and out. The lewd, wet sounds that Moka makes are enough to drive her crazy, the sloppy, messy sounds that come with every thrust and the sight of Moka's pussy, spread wide, stretched and accepting everything she's given, it has Yunah's head spinning. She feels delirious, high off of the pleasure she can give this pretty girl. "Hard, fast. Pound your pussy and make your entire body ache. Make you scream, make you beg me to stop because you can't handle anymore."

Moka's throat strains, and her body tenses. "I can't," Moka moans and Yunah can feel her pussy twitching, clenching around the digits inside of her. So easily does she cum against Yunah's fingers, and she's crying out, loud, without restraint. She doesn't even try to hold it back, and she's so wet. Her cum is leaking out, soaking her fingers, and it's the hottest thing Yunah has ever seen. She can't take her eyes away. She can't look anywhere but the way that Moka is cumming against her fingers.

She curls her fingers a little more and moves a little faster. The flow of cum becomes stronger, and Yunah can't stop the groan that leaves her. "Fuck." Moka's body is thrashing, she's whining and whimpering, and then it sprays a little, her cum, squirting from her and soaking her hand, her arm, the sheets. It leaks and sprays, it's the hottest thing she's ever seen, and Moka's body is spasming. Her hips are bucking and the moans sound so pretty.

And then Moka goes limp, she collapses onto the mattress and pants. She's staring up at the ceiling and her body is still trembling and shaking. Cum still leaking out and staining the sheets. All she sees are stars; pretty, beautiful stars.

"I'll never get tired of seeing you do that," Yunah murmurs as she pulls her soaked hand away.

"Shut up." Moka giggles and pulls her hands to her face. She covers her blushing face. "It's so embarrassing," she mumbles into her palms.

Yunah laughs, climbing from between her legs and lying next to her. Moka turns, lying on her side. "It's not," she whispers, "it's hot." Yunah runs her hand up Moka's bare thigh. Her hand slides to her ass and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Really hot."

#illit smut #Moka smut #Yunah smut #male reader #female reader #smut #f reader #m reader #kpop fanfic #Yunah x Moka #Moka x Yunah

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mcrdvcks · 7 months ago

Text

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1974 - ...but it was never meant to be

chapter summary: You and Logan have been living in the Canadian Rockies for almost 6 months, enjoying the peace and solitude that comes with it.

word count: 8.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is just fluff, at least until the end... but we're finally hitting the movies! and sorry for it being a bit shorter than the others, there are some ideas i'm saving for a future chapter :))

(p.s. the first sentence about the hotel in nyc is going to be very important to remember for a future chapter...)

warnings/tags: fluff, origins!logan, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, (beginning of) x-men origins, character death

series masterlist - chapter 5 → chapter 7

Leaving was easy once you got past the one incident. You and Logan had stopped that day at a hotel a bit out of New York City only to be found by your father’s men.

But what happened was almost like magic. Logan, your Logan, took them all out with claws. At first you were bewildered, shocked at what you just saw. But now, after 6 months of living in the Canadian Rockies, it was normal.

Normal.

Mornings would start with the soft light streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over your shared space as Logan brewed coffee and you stretched, enjoying the easy comfort of it all.

Logan had found work quickly enough as a lumberjack, something that kept him outside and busy, and it suited him. Meanwhile, you’d stumbled upon a small animal shelter in the nearby town. You’d started going once or twice a week, helping out with the dogs and occasionally picking up shifts to keep yourself busy and connected to some semblance of normal life.

The routines you fell into together were quiet, steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt grounded. Though you missed New York sometimes, especially the volunteer work at the retirement home, the silence of the woods and the small town was a peaceful change.

Not only were things peaceful, but Logan had started opening up to you in the quiet of your cabin, usually in the early morning or after one of his nightmares. It started with little things—details about his mutation, his healing ability. Then, as the days blurred into weeks, he told you about his age and the wars he’d fought in, his voice quiet, words weighed down with old memories.

One chilly morning, you found him staring out the window, his gaze distant as he sipped his coffee. You moved up beside him, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Hey, you alright?”

He looked down at you, a flicker of a smile breaking through the shadows. “Yeah. Just… thinkin’,” he murmured, his voice rough but calm.

“Anything you want to talk about?” you offered, watching his face closely.

Logan considered this for a moment, then took a long breath. “I think… just realizin’ how long it’s been since I had somethin’ like this,” he finally admitted, a glint of honesty in his eyes. “It’s been a hell of a road, darlin’.”

You reached out, resting your hand on his forearm. “I don’t need to know everything, Logan. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

He gave a short nod, letting his hand rest over yours, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. He didn’t say anything, but his fingers wrapped around yours, holding them a moment longer than necessary.

---

Life in the cabin wasn’t extravagant, but there was a certain charm in the simplicity. Nights spent by the fire, mornings with the scent of pine and fresh coffee, and the comforting weight of Logan’s arm draped over you as you both drifted into sleep. But there were also the little bumps—like the time you tried making him dinner.

It had been a stew recipe, something you thought would be foolproof. You’d stirred, added spices, tasted… but when you served it, the look on Logan’s face was priceless.

He took a spoonful, eyebrows lifting as he held back a chuckle. “This a new recipe?”

“Okay, I get it—it’s not great,” you sighed, laughing a little as you took a bite yourself. “Alright, yeah, maybe it’s terrible.”

Logan chuckled, setting his spoon down. “It’s not so bad. I mean… it’s got heart.”

You nudged him, rolling your eyes. “Heart doesn’t mean it’s edible, Logan.”

“Maybe not,” he smirked, “but I’ll still eat it.” He winked, lifting another spoonful as he pretended to struggle through the bowl, making you burst into laughter.

---

Late one night, Logan awoke from one of his nightmares. You knew, even before he’d fully come to, just by the way he stiffened beside you. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face, and you reached out, fingers brushing his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whispered.

He looked down at you, the muscles in his jaw tight. But after a moment, he nodded. “It was a long time ago. Just old ghosts.” He paused, exhaling heavily. “There’s been a lot of violence. Stuff… I don’t ever want you to have to see.”

“I know you’ve seen a lot,” you murmured, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “But you don’t have to go through it alone, Logan. Not anymore.”

Logan’s hand covered yours, and he turned his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft but searching. “You’ve been more than I deserve, Y/N,” he said quietly.

Your heart twisted, and you reached up to cup his face. “Logan, I don’t care what you’ve done or where you’ve been. All that matters is who you are now.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “Then I’m one lucky man,” he whispered, his voice low.

He held you close that night, your presence calming the echoes of a past that seemed finally willing to rest, if only for a while.

---

One day you were trying to make something simple, roast chicken and potatoes before Logan got back from work. You diligently checked the oven, making sure that nothing was burning, until Logan came home, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stood up from the oven.

Logan’s hands settled warmly around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looked over at the oven. The familiar, steady weight of him grounded you, even as you felt your heart give a quick little skip at the simple, domestic gesture.

“Smells good in here,” he murmured, his breath brushing your ear as he took in the scent of roasting chicken and herbs. “Didn’t know you were this fancy in the kitchen.”

You let out a small laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “Fancy might be a stretch. I’m just hoping it doesn’t come out dry.”

His arms tightened just a bit, pulling you closer. “Even if it did, I’d still eat it,” he said, a hint of that playful glint in his voice. “Means a lot, havin’ you here. Feels like… home.”

A warmth rose in your chest, one that went beyond the physical, and you leaned back into him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You know, I could get used to this too.” You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. “Long days, quiet dinners, just us.”

“Us,” he echoed, his voice softer, thoughtful. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something unspoken yet weighty. His thumb brushed small, slow circles along your hip, as if anchoring himself in the moment, and he gave you a slight smile that didn’t quite mask the intensity behind it.

Logan was quiet for a moment, and you felt a shift in his posture, almost like he wanted to say something but was holding back. He looked at you in that way he sometimes did—like he was seeing more than just you standing there in your small, cozy kitchen. Maybe he was seeing all the days stretching ahead, those simple moments you’d have together, and the weight of that left him speechless.

“Logan?” you asked, brushing a hand along his arm.

He blinked, then smiled, the intensity in his gaze easing back into something gentler. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ how lucky I am.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Guess that makes two of us.”

The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence, with just the faint hum of the oven and the quiet, steady beat of Logan’s heart against your back. In the quiet of your little life together, things felt simple, natural. Here, there were no expectations, no obligations—just the two of you, building something real out of those little, ordinary moments.

But later that night, as you drifted off beside him, Logan stayed awake, lost in thought. His hand brushed over the small velvet box in his drawer, the ring that had waited all this time, the one that had been meant for you once before. He ran his thumb along the edge, thinking about when the right time might be—or if he’d even have the chance. For now, though, he’d savor each day, each quiet moment, holding on as tightly as he could.

---

You lay nestled between Logan’s legs on the couch, your head resting comfortably on his chest as you read, while he watched TV, idly sipping his beer. His free hand drifted up and down your arm absentmindedly, and you could feel the faint rumble of his quiet breaths beneath you. There was a calm in the cabin tonight—a peace you’d found only since being with him.

“What’s got you so hooked?” he asked, glancing down at your book with a smirk. “Looks like you’re deep in it.”

You tilted the book so he could see the cover, Jaws. “It’s a book about a shark.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “a shark, huh?”

You turned back to the book, keeping a small smile hidden. “Kind of. It’s a little deeper than just a shark, though.”

“Deeper than a shark, huh?” Logan smirked, shifting slightly to glance down at you, looking mildly amused. “Didn’t think a fish story could be that interesting.”

“It’s not just any fish, Logan,” you said, letting your hand rest on his as you settled back into his warmth. “This shark’s on a whole other level—a menace, basically unstoppable. And there’s all this tension between the people in the town, like who’s responsible, what to do, whether they even believe it’s happening.”

He gave a soft grunt of understanding, taking a sip of his beer. “Guess I can see why you’re hooked. Townsfolk fighting over a monster they can’t get rid of… kinda familiar.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, a glint of curiosity in your eyes. “You got experience with monsters, Logan?”

“More than you’d believe, darlin’,” he murmured, his eyes holding that far-off look he sometimes got when his mind slipped somewhere else, somewhere harder. But his grip on you stayed gentle, grounding him here.

There was a moment’s quiet, then he smirked, leaning down closer. “But I could take out your shark, no question.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, closing the book and giving him a look of mock skepticism. “A great white shark, Logan. One that can bite clean through a boat. I think even you’d have some trouble with that one.”

He snorted, giving you an exaggerated look of disbelief. “I’m tellin’ ya, I’d have it done in five minutes.”

You laughed, poking his chest. “I’d like to see that. You, in the water, with a shark. You’d probably scare it off.”

“Probably,” he chuckled, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something genuine. “But I’d do it for you.”

His words caught you off guard, softening the teasing banter into something warmer, something real. You looked up at him, and the light in his eyes held a familiar steadiness, a promise you hadn’t expected. You felt a smile creeping up, one that made your heart beat a little faster.

“That’s sweet of you, Logan. But don’t go risking your life over a shark.”

He shrugged, giving a small grin. “Risking my life’s kinda my thing.”

With a smirk, you shifted to put your arms around his neck. “I don’t need you to fight any sharks. I just need you here, safe, preferably not trying to tackle any more sea monsters.”

Logan’s hands came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “Don’t worry, darlin’. For you, I’d stay outta trouble… or at least, try.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly. You melted into him, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, a promise in every kiss, every touch.

When you pulled back, he let out a small sigh, looking at you with a softness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“Now,” you murmured, your voice quiet as you tried to keep the mood light, “how about you let me finish reading this book before you start making any plans to fight sharks?”

“Fine,” he chuckled, leaning back into the couch, his arms still loosely around you. “But I’m just sayin’, the offer stands.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting back to lean against his chest, your book in hand. But even as you returned to the words on the page, the comfortable silence between you filled every corner of the cabin, your heart warmed by the man beside you.

---

When Logan came home and removed his jacket, the sound of music drifted to his ears, mingling with the low hum of a vacuum. The cabin was warm, a sharp contrast to the biting chill outside, the smell of pine and faint wood smoke greeting him like an old friend. The soft glow of late afternoon sun streaked through the windows, and as he stepped further in, he caught sight of you.

You were standing in the middle of the room, barefoot, wearing one of his old flannels that hung loose on your frame, the hem brushing just below the tops of your thighs. The vacuum roared in your hand as you cleaned, entirely oblivious to his arrival.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you. Something about this—a simple domestic scene—made his chest tighten, a warmth blooming there that he couldn’t quite name.

“Y’know, you’re not supposed to wear clothes that fit me better than they fit you,” he drawled, his voice cutting through the vacuum’s roar.

Startled, you turned it off with a quick flick of the switch and looked up, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. “Logan! You scared me,” you said.

“Didn’t mean to,” he replied, his tone warm as he pushed off the frame and walked toward you. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, and as he got closer, his eyes drank you in, lingering on the way the flannel gaped slightly at the neck, exposing the soft line of your collarbone. “Got a habit of sneakin’ up, I guess.”

You laughed softly, setting the vacuum aside. “If you were a little less loud, I’d think you were some kind of predator.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he said, his grin spreading as he reached for you, hands settling at your waist and pulling you close, “if I wanted to catch you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled between you, his voice a low rumble that always managed to make your knees feel just a little weaker. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the solidness of him beneath your palms. “Good thing I’m not running then,” you murmured, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

He leaned down, his nose brushing yours. “Good thing,” he echoed, before his lips claimed yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hands slid lower, fingers splaying over the curve of your hips, pulling you tighter against him. The flannel you wore rose slightly under his touch, and you gasped softly into his mouth as his fingers found bare skin.

“Logan,” you breathed against his lips, your voice a soft plea.

“Yeah?” he rasped, his mouth trailing down your jawline, his scruff brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“Think you should let me finish cleaning,” you teased, though your hands had already slid up to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the dark strands at the base of his skull.

He huffed a laugh, his teeth grazing the delicate line of your throat. “Nah, think I got a better idea.”

With a swift move, he bent and swept you off your feet, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. You let out a startled laugh, clinging to him as he carried you toward the couch. “Logan, the vacuum—”

“Vacuum’ll be there later,” he cut in, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement. “Right now, you’re the only thing I’m worried about.”

He set you down gently on the cushions, his large frame hovering over you as he knelt on the floor, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the flannel higher. The intensity in his gaze sent a flush rising to your cheeks, your heart pounding in anticipation.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day,” he admitted, his voice thick, raw. His hands paused, fingers curling just under the hem of the shirt. “Mind if I show you how much?”

You nodded, breathless, and he smiled—a rare, almost boyish expression that quickly dissolved into something darker, hungrier. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that left no room for doubt about where his mind was. His hands roamed freely now, skimming along the curve of your thighs, pushing the flannel higher and higher, exposing bare skin to the cool air of the room.

“Goddamn,” Logan muttered against your lips, his voice thick, raw. His hands splayed across your thighs, gripping them as though grounding himself, his thumbs brushing along the tender skin there. “You’re a fuckin’ dream, darlin’.”

A shiver ran through you, anticipation building as his kisses trailed lower, down your jaw, your neck, leaving a path of warm, open-mouthed caresses. You gasped softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he moved further down, sinking to his knees before you, his broad shoulders nudging your legs apart.

"Logan..." Your voice was barely more than a whisper, already trembling.

“Shh,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed a kiss just above your knee, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The intensity there made your breath hitch. “Let me take care of you.”

He kissed his way up your inner thigh, taking his time, each press of his lips deliberate, teasing. Your heart pounded as you felt his warm breath against your skin, so close to where you wanted him, needed him.

When his lips finally brushed against you, his tongue darting out to taste, you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that spilled from your lips. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer as he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue working you with an expertise that made your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your hands clutching his hair, your hips arching into him. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his tongue delving deep before retreating to flick against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you trembling, your thighs pressing around his head.

Logan growled against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound of it—rough, primal—only spurred you on. He was relentless, his lips and tongue working you with a fervor that left no doubt about how much he enjoyed this, enjoyed you.

“Logan, I—” Your words dissolved into a whimper, your body tensing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His name was a mantra on your lips, each syllable punctuated by gasps and moans as he pulled you apart and put you back together with every stroke of his tongue.

When you finally shattered, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave, he didn’t stop. He worked you through it, his hands holding you steady as you trembled, as your body arched and writhed against him. Only when you were completely spent, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin.

“You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice rough, gravelly, as he rose to his feet, his hands still resting on your thighs. “I could do that all night.”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning back against the couch, your body still tingling, your cheeks flushed. “You’re insatiable.”

“Says the woman who was just beggin’ me for more,” Logan teased, his voice a low rumble as his lips brushed against yours. His kiss was slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding into your mouth with practiced ease. The taste of him mixed with the remnants of your own release sent a thrill racing through you, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, keeping him close.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You sure you’re not tryin’ to kill me, darlin’? Feels like every time I get my hands on you, I lose a few more pieces of myself.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, your fingers idly playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing.”

Logan huffed a laugh, the sound deep and almost self-deprecating. His thumb traced lazy circles on your thigh, his gaze locked on yours. “For you, maybe not. For me? I’m startin’ to think I wouldn’t mind it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, a quiet confession that made your chest tighten. You reached up, brushing your thumb along the rough edge of his jaw. “I wouldn’t let that happen,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “You’re too important, Logan. To me.”

His expression softened, the hard edges of his usual demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, Y/N.”

“Maybe you should show me,” you said, your voice carrying a teasing lilt, though the heat in your eyes betrayed how serious you were.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, almost mischievous grin. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe. But you don’t seem to mind.”

He let out a low growl, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips. “You’re damn right I don’t.”

In one fluid motion, Logan had you lifted, his hands firm as he repositioned you to straddle his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself as you settled against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, the solidness of him grounding you in a way that felt almost necessary.

“See? Told ya I had better plans than cleanin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.

You tilted your head, giving him more access, a soft hum escaping your lips. “I think I’m starting to agree.”

Logan’s hands roamed over you, calloused fingers exploring the soft curves of your body with reverence. There was no rush, no urgency in his movements. It was deliberate, almost tender, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you.

His lips trailed a path along your neck, his scruff scraping against your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he admitted, his voice low, almost like a growl.

“I could say the same about you,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his shirt.

Logan’s hands gripped the hem of the flannel you wore, his knuckles brushing against your skin as he slowly lifted it. He paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours, seeking permission.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, taking in the sight of your bare skin bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice thick with something between awe and hunger.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but the look in his eyes kept any hint of self-consciousness at bay. “You’re staring,” you teased, though your voice wavered slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“Can’t help it,” he said simply, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of lookin’ at you.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was slow and deep, your hands threading through his hair as you pressed yourself against him.

Logan’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he shifted beneath you, the hard press of him against your core drawing a soft gasp from your lips. He swallowed the sound with a groan, his grip tightening as he began to rock you against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through you.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Just let me take care of you, darlin’.”

His hands moved to your waist, guiding your movements as he kissed you again, his lips moving against yours with a deliberate slowness that left you breathless. Each roll of your hips against him was maddeningly slow, the steady build of tension making you ache for more.

“Logan, please,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you tried to quicken the pace.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. “Patience, Y/N. I’m not in a rush.”

You huffed in frustration, though the warmth in his gaze softened the sharp edges of your need. “You’re cruel,” you muttered, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“Cruel, huh?” he echoed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing gently as he shifted beneath you. “Pretty sure you’ll be thankin’ me when I’m done with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound dissolving into a soft moan as he bucked his hips against you, the friction sending another wave of heat coursing through you.

“Logan,” you gasped, your voice a mix of exasperation and longing.

He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Yeah, darlin’? What do you need?”

“You,” you said simply, the single word carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air between you.

Logan’s expression softened, his teasing demeanor shifting as something deeper flickered in his gaze. “You’ve got me,” he said, his voice steady, his hands firm on your hips as though anchoring you to him.

Your heart stuttered at his words, the raw sincerity of them making your chest feel impossibly tight. You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his as your fingers slid down his chest, the fabric of his shirt rough under your touch. “I’m glad,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss unhurried and deliberate, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. The heat of him seeped into your skin, grounding you as you moved against him. The friction was maddening, a slow burn that made you ache for more.

“Darlin’,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick and strained, “you’re makin’ it real hard to take this slow.”

“Maybe I don’t want slow,” you countered, your tone teasing, though the way your breath hitched betrayed your own urgency.

Logan chuckled low, the sound vibrating through you as his lips moved to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin. “Trust me, you do,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your pulse point just enough to make your thighs tighten around him. “I want to feel every second of this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in his hair as he took his time exploring every inch of you. Logan’s hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you slightly as he shifted on the couch, settling back further into the cushions.

The new angle pressed you more firmly against him, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed with another kiss. “Fuck,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone softer, though the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice trembling as you shifted your hips, testing the pressure between you.

Logan growled low in his throat, his grip on you tightening as his hands slid up your back. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his words heavy with reverence.

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he was looking at you, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. “Off,” you said simply, your voice breathless but firm.

He smirked, obliging without hesitation as he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Your eyes raked over him, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the scars that marred his otherwise flawless skin.

“Like what you see?” he teased, though there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

“Always,” you replied, your hands trailing over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of old wounds. “You’re beautiful, Logan.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands sliding back to your waist. “Don’t think anyone’s called me that before.”

“Well, they should have,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his collarbone.

Logan’s hands tightened on your hips, guiding you as you moved against him, the steady grind of your bodies making your head spin. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, though the words were laced with affection.

“Not likely,” you quipped, a soft laugh escaping you.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shifted again, one hand moving to undo the button of his jeans. Your breath hitched as you realized what was coming next, anticipation coiling tightly in your stomach.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice softer now, his gaze searching yours.

“Logan,” you said, your tone steady despite the way your heart was racing. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

He nodded once, his hands steady as he slid his jeans down just enough, freeing himself. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you as you took him in, your cheeks flushing at the sight.

“Come here,” he said, his voice rough as he guided you closer, his hands firm on your hips.

You moved slowly, adjusting yourself over him, the heat of him against you making you tremble. Logan’s hands were steady, his thumbs brushing soothing circles on your skin as he guided you.

When you finally sank down onto him, the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and fullness that made you moan softly. Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as his hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice raw. “You feel... Jesus, darlin’, you’re perfect.”

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he felt, the way he filled you completely. You braced your hands on his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as you began to move.

Logan’s hands guided your movements, his grip firm but not controlling as he let you set the pace. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming as you rocked against him, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

The steady rhythm built slowly, the intensity growing with each roll of your hips. Logan’s hands roamed over you, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, grounding you in the moment.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the way he was looking at you. It wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something that made your chest ache in the best way.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrust upward, matching your movements.

The new angle sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, a soft cry escaping your lips as you clung to him. “Logan,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Right here, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the strain in it.

The intensity between you grew, the slow, deliberate pace giving way to something more urgent as your bodies moved together. Each thrust, each kiss, each touch pushed you closer to the edge, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak.

When you finally shattered, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Logan held you through it, his hands steady on your hips as your body trembled, his name falling from your lips in a breathless mantra.

He followed moments later, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on you tightening as he found his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling as you clung to each other, the world outside forgotten.

“You okay?” Logan asked finally, his voice soft, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice muffled against his neck.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”

“Didn’t plan on going anywhere,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips as you leaned back to look at him.

Logan’s expression softened, his hands moving to cup your face. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with quiet reverence.

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your tone steady despite the warmth spreading through your chest.

“Damn right I am,” he said, his lips curving into a small, almost boyish grin.

The two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the couch, the rest of the world fading away. For now, there was only this—only him.

---

You turned off the water that was filling the bathtub and dipped your hand in to test the temperature of the water. The water was just right—hot, with steam gently rolling off the surface. You stood, wiping your hands on the towel, just as you heard the front door creak open and close with a soft click. Logan’s footsteps padded quietly through the cabin, but you could still feel that familiar presence, that comforting weight of him even when he wasn’t yet in sight.

You barely had time to turn around before he appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of you standing by the tub. “Now this is a surprise,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Thought you’d like a soak after all that work you did today,” you replied, a little smile tugging at your mouth. You stepped aside, gesturing toward the water. “Go on, it’s ready.”

Logan’s gaze softened, though his smirk never quite faded. “So you’re spoilin’ me now, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” you teased, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him. “Can’t have you overdoing it. You might be practically indestructible, but a hot bath never hurt anyone.”

He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. “Got a point there,” he admitted, tossing it onto the nearby chair. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help your eyes drifting over the familiar planes of his chest, scars crisscrossing his skin like a map of all the years he’d survived. He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t mind—just kept undressing as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Logan stepped into the tub, easing himself down with a contented sigh as he settled into the water. He leaned his head back, his eyes fluttering shut as the steam rose around him. For a moment, you simply watched him, a fond smile on your lips.

“Good?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “Better than good. You joinin’ me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “This one’s all yours. I’ll go make us something to drink.”

Before you could turn, Logan reached out, his wet hand catching yours. He looked up at you, his expression softer now. “Stay, darlin’. Least for a bit.”

His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, and you found yourself nodding, unable to refuse him. You sat down beside the tub, close enough that you could still feel the warmth of the water, and he let his hand rest in yours.

Logan kissed the top of your hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Sure ya don’t wanna join me? Promise I don’t bite."

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say."

He chuckled, his fingers still wrapped gently around yours, as if he was savoring this quiet moment between you. “Could use a little company, that’s all,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.

“This is supposed to be a bath for you.” You replied, your own eyebrow quirked.

“I’d enjoy it more if you were in here with me.”

You raised an eyebrow at Logan, the corner of your mouth quirking into a teasing smile. “Is that right? Well, maybe if you’re lucky.”

Logan’s smirk deepened, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the side of the tub. “Oh, come on. I’m always lucky when it comes to you.” His voice was a low murmur, pulling you in with that familiar, lazy charm he always seemed to have.

“Uh-huh, says the guy who tried to convince me he could take on a shark,” you shot back, crossing your arms, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re just full of bold ideas, huh?”

He chuckled, giving a shrug. “I stand by that. But I’m talkin’ serious here.” His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your wrist in a way that sent a warmth through you. “No sharks, no messin’ around. Just you, right here.”

The sincerity caught you a little off guard. The tension settled into something deeper as you looked at him, his hand steady on yours, like he was holding onto more than just the moment.

“I guess… I could keep you company,” you said softly, the lightness of your earlier words giving way to something quieter. You slipped out of your shirt, feeling Logan’s gaze follow you, his eyes dark with a warmth that made you feel both nervous and excited.

Sliding into the water, you settled in close to him, leaning back as his arms naturally came around you. The water was hot, relaxing every part of you, but it was Logan’s touch, the gentle press of his fingers tracing over your arm, that made you feel completely at ease.

“See?” he murmured against your hair, his lips grazing the top of your head. “Told ya this was a good idea.”

You hummed, closing your eyes as you leaned into him. “You did. Guess I should listen to you more often.”

Logan’s hand slid along your shoulder, trailing down your arm with a steady, careful touch, like he was trying to memorize every inch. You felt the warmth of his breath against your neck, followed by the soft press of his lips just below your ear. The tension of the day melted away, leaving you relaxed and content in his embrace.

For a few moments, you both just stayed there, the only sounds the quiet rustle of water and the occasional creak of the cabin settling. Logan’s fingers traced small, lazy circles along your arm, his other hand holding you close against him, anchoring you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“So,” you murmured, breaking the silence, “this isn’t so bad, right?”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Could get used to it,” he said, his voice rumbling against your back. “Peace and quiet. Just the two of us.” His hand dipped below the water, wrapping around yours.

You squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Thought you’d be the type to get bored out here, all this peace and quiet.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, though his thumb continued to brush over the back of your hand. “Can handle a bit of quiet if it means you’re here,” he said softly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

You smiled, tilting your head to look at him, your faces close. “Guess that makes two of us.” You felt a strange flutter in your stomach, the weight of those unspoken words lingering between you both.

Logan’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his gaze soft and intent. “You gonna kiss me, or do I gotta ask real nice?”

“Always so impatient,” you teased, but you leaned in, closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepened the kiss, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring every second. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing a little heavier, your forehead resting against his.

Logan looked at you, a small, crooked smile on his lips. “See? Worth the wait.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but there was no denying the truth in his words. “You really know how to charm a girl, you know that?”

“Only got one girl I’m tryin’ to charm,” he replied, his voice rough but warm.

Your smile softened as you nestled back against him, letting the silence settle over you both once more. The warmth of the water, the feel of his arms around you—it felt like a small eternity in that moment, like nothing else in the world mattered except this.

---

Trying to turn the conversation away from what Logan told you, about Stryker coming to visit him about a ‘mission’, you started to talk about your day, with Logan’s head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“The stray was matted but Tina started calling him Wolf. Said the dog reminded her of another animal.”

Logan hummed, his eyes still closed, “lemme guess, she showed you a picture of the animal from her book.”

You giggled, “yeah, she did. Gotta admit that dog looked quite similar to the wolverine in her book.” You tilted your head downwards to look at him, “Reminded me of you. Grizzly, sometimes dirty.”

Logan opened one eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah? Grizzly, huh?”

“Maybe a little.” You grinned, your fingers drifting through his hair in slow strokes. “Not just the dirty part, by the way. Wolverines are pretty fierce, don’t let much stand in their way.”

He let out a low chuckle, closing his eye again, seeming to relax further under your touch. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment, comin’ from you.” There was a slight pause, and his voice softened a bit. “Not everyone’s a fan of the grizzly type.”

You scoffed lightly, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. “Well, good thing I am. You know, even wolverines have a soft side somewhere.”

Logan huffed a small laugh. “Yeah? Don’t think I’ve got much of that left, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh, you definitely do.” You brushed a thumb gently along his temple. “Trust me. Like today—taking the time to help out with that old couple’s truck, even after a full day’s work.” You smiled down at him, admiration clear in your gaze. “I see it, Logan, even if you don’t.”

He tilted his head a bit, opening his eyes and looking up at you, his expression unreadable for a second before he sighed, a smirk breaking the moment. “Keep sayin’ things like that, and I might start to believe you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

Logan’s gaze softened, but he kept his usual, laid-back tone. “Guess I’m lucky you put up with me, huh?”

“You know it.” You winked, letting your fingers trail down to his jawline, and you felt him relax a little more, like he could melt under your touch. “Plus, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“Not an easy job,” he muttered, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he leaned into your hand, his voice barely above a murmur. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N.”

The two of you fell quiet for a moment, the warmth in his gaze making your heart beat just a little faster, and you couldn’t help but lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, he just looked at you with that familiar mix of amusement and something else—a depth you didn’t need him to explain.

You shifted slightly, a small smile still on your face. “Now, about that dog—think you could convince Tina to bring him around here?”

Logan’s eyebrows lifted, a smirk tugging at his lips again. “Bringing a stray mutt up here? You sure?”

“Why not? He’d be a good watch dog for you when I’m not around,” you said, with a wink.

He chuckled, a bit softer this time. “Guess I’ll think about it.” Then, his eyes crinkled with that familiar spark of humor. “But only if you promise not to call me Grizzly in front of anyone else.”

You laughed, leaning back against the couch, his head still in your lap. “Deal.”

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, and you just let yourself soak up the comfortable silence, the simplicity of Logan resting there, perfectly at ease. And as your hand drifted gently through his hair again, you couldn’t help but wonder if this—these quiet moments—might be what you’d both been needing all along.

---

You were driving down a narrow road, the trees thickening as you made your way toward town. The familiar hum of a cassette player filled the car, and you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm. It had been a good week—a small but sweet milestone with Logan, half a year together, and you’d even managed to keep things peaceful in that cabin of his. Tonight was supposed to be simple, a little surprise you’d planned: a tiramisu. Probably the only thing you could bake to perfection.

You rounded a curve, smiling to yourself when—

The sight in the distance made your stomach twist. A figure stood in the middle of the road, dressed in black, unmoving, watching you with an unsettling focus. You slowed the car, blinking to see if you were imagining things. But no—he was still there, large and unflinching in the middle of the narrow path.

As you approached, your heart hammered against your ribs. Something about him was familiar, but not in any way that felt safe or warm.

You pressed on the brake, bringing the car to a cautious stop. The man took a slow, deliberate step forward, his face coming into view under the faint sunlight streaming through the trees. His eyes were cold, almost amused, and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

It was him—Victor. The man Logan had mentioned a few times, enough to make you know he wasn’t someone you’d ever want to meet, much less find waiting for you like this.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice deep, mocking, and calm in a way that was anything but reassuring.

You tried to keep your face calm, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Just heading into town,” you replied, voice steadier than you felt. “Is there…something you need?”

He tilted his head, like he was sizing you up. “Logan ever mention me?”

A chill crawled up your spine, but you kept your expression guarded. “Maybe once or twice.”

Victor took another step forward, his gaze raking over you with a twisted curiosity, almost like he was toying with the idea of letting you go—but only almost. “See, I’ve been meaning to have a little chat with him,” he drawled, his tone venomous, “and here you are, just making it easy for me.”

You felt a pulse of dread, instinct telling you to turn the car around and get out of there, fast. But you knew better than to provoke him. “Logan’s not here,” you said, hoping that would be enough.

He smirked, that same cold expression never leaving his face. “I’m aware,” he murmured, taking another slow step toward you. “You think he’d leave someone like you on your own if he thought you’d be safe?”

Your heart raced, a knot of fear tightening in your throat. You wanted to say something, anything, to stall him, to get yourself out of this, but nothing came to mind. The realization was dawning, and from the look in Victor’s eyes, he knew it too. There would be no bargaining, no reasoning with him.

"Didn't think Logan would be the type to leave someone behind. Guess I was wrong," he said, sounding amused.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, refusing to give in to the fear swirling in your chest. "Logan’s not here," you repeated, your voice firm.

"Like I said, I know," Victor replied smoothly, taking another step. His eyes traveled over the car, then over you, a twisted curiosity behind them. "But I figure, maybe you can pass along a little message for me."

Every instinct told you to run, but the car blocked you in, and Victor was only feet away. "What do you want, Victor?"

He grinned, his sharp teeth glinting under the dim light. "Simple. Tell Logan I said 'hi'... if you get the chance."

The dread in your stomach crystallized as he lunged forward. You tried to move, to react, but he was too fast. His hand closed around your throat, lifting you out of the car as though you weighed nothing, and you fought, kicking, clawing, anything you could think of to get free.

"You know," Victor’s voice was disturbingly calm, "he’s been through a lot. But there’s always that soft spot, that weakness he can’t seem to shake."

Desperation flared within you, and you kicked harder, one foot making contact with his chest. It only made him laugh, and he tightened his grip, his face drawing close enough that you could see the cold cruelty in his eyes.

"You’re just like all the others," he murmured, voice almost thoughtful. "Maybe a little more stubborn, but that’s hardly new."

Black spots began to dance at the edges of your vision, your breath coming shorter and shorter. You knew there was no getting out of this—not with him, not with a monster like Victor Creed.

But Logan...

---

Logan walked through the vegetation right by where he and the other guys were cutting apart a tree. He stopped short once he saw the head of an animal laying on the yellow grass.

“What you doing, Logan?” One of the guys asked from behind.

Logan looked around before seeing large scratch marks on a tree trunk, lined with red. “Y/N.” He whispered, before running down the hill and through the forest.

Once he hit the clearing, he could see the truck on the side of the road. Logan reached the car, his hands gripping the window frame as he scanned the empty interior. “Y/N…?” His voice was rough, the crack of worry breaking through, echoing in the quiet forest.

His eyes darted down to the disturbed earth, faint scuff marks in the dirt telling him where you might’ve been dragged. His heart hammered as he followed the path into the trees, every step growing heavier with dread as he moved through the dense underbrush, the silence unsettling.

And then, in a small clearing, he found you.

You were lying there, so still, your skin pale against the forest floor, hair fanned around you like a dark halo. Blood flecked the ground, stark and terrible against the greenery. He staggered, dropping to his knees beside you, reaching out with trembling hands, one of them clenching briefly before he let himself touch you.

“Y/N…” he whispered, voice breaking as he cupped your face, his fingers brushing a smear of dirt from your cheek. Your eyes were closed, lips parted just slightly, as if you’d been trying to say his name. For a split second, he could almost pretend you were just asleep, and that any second you’d open your eyes, make some joke, or reach up to tug him down to you.

But there was no warmth, no spark, nothing.

Logan’s breath caught, and he pulled you close, his arms cradling you as if he could shield you from the reality already etched into his heart. The rage simmered below his skin, burning through the grief, fueling the ache with something primal. He rocked back, jaw clenched so hard it hurt, his face buried in your hair, trying to hold on to any last trace of you, the faint scent of you still lingering, even as everything around him felt like it was falling apart.

“You… You were supposed to be safe here,” he whispered against your hair, voice hoarse. “I shoulda been here. I shoulda…” His words trailed off into silence as he sat there, unmoving, clutching you in his arms as if the weight of his grief alone could pull you back.

He looked down at you, his thumb grazing over your cheek one last time, as though trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. “Y/N… I swear… I’ll make him pay.” The last words came out like a promise, a vow laced with the kind of anger only a man like Logan could bear. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before letting out a long, broken breath.

When he finally tore his gaze away from you, his eyes turned cold, a new resolve searing through him.

This wasn’t over.

umm... sorry??

i tried to make a different version of how logan got the name 'wolverine' to try and fit reader's personality, since she probably doesn't know about the myth kayla did.

next chapter will be x2!

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic #i love you in every time

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