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#i'm thankful for all of you!!!! this one just really struck home :))
asaka-lucy-dr-rc · 2 days
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Oh! The Kizakura audio dramas! I always wanted to listen to Genocide Jack’s part of the audio but an English translation of it doesn’t exist sadly. Do you know what she said in audio drama? I love to know! Thank you!
Oh yeah! Genocide Jack's part was really great and I wanted to share the content of that part of the conversation, so I'm glad you asked! I've written a transcript below:
<After Kizakura visited Toko at her home and told her that he had come to recruit her as a student at Hope's Peak Academy, they talked for a while, but Kizakura fainted in the middle of the conversation because Toko's house and her own smell were too bad.>
Toko: ちょ、ちょっとぉ!そんな大袈裟に倒れて、埃が…っはっ…ハクシュッ! W-why are you collapsing!? Collapsing so dramatically like that... the dust... huff... achoo!
Kizakura: えぇっ、手を叩いて褒めてくれるの!?俺、頑張ったよね!?もう、ゴールしても…いいよね… What!? You’re clapping your hands* to praise me!? I did a good job, didn’t I!? It’s okay if I... reach the goal now, right...?* (*The reason he made this comment is because the Japanese word for sneezing, “hakusyu”, sounds the same as the word for clapping hands.) (*This is a parody of a line from a famous game called Air. It is often used among otaku.) Genocide Jack: はぁーーい、パチパーチ!!ってなんでやねん!ヒャハハハハハハハ! Allllllllll right, let’s give a round of applause!! Wait, what the hell!? Gyahahahahaha!
Kizakura: あぁー!?何何何、どうしちゃったのこの子!? Huh!? What, what, what’s with her!? What’s going on!? Genocide Jack: ヤァだ、ヤァだー!なぁにそんな熱視線困るんですけどー!ってなぁに!?この子ったら!?部屋に男連れ込んじゃってんのヒュゥーウ!! Oh my, oh my! What's with those intense stares, I'm embarrassed by your intense gaze! Wait, what’s this!? This girl’s got a guy in her room! Wheeew!! Kizakura: (演技…じゃないな。二重人格か?ただのはっちゃけ姉ちゃんにしか見えねーけど…こいつは何かヤバイぞ…。) (This isn't just an act... Is this a split personality? All I see is an endless amount of cheerful girl... but she looks like danger.) Genocide Jack: でも残念!あんたちょ〜っとストライク逃しちゃってるわ!ファウルボールにご注意くださーい。ってデァハハハハ!!で、どこのどなた? But too bad! You just barely struck out! Watch out for foul balls! Gya-hahahaha!! So, who are you? Kizakura: (記憶を共有していない…解離性人格障害か。考えられる原因としては、資料にあった母を2人持つという家庭事情だが…) 俺は黄桜公一。希望ヶ峰学園から腐川冬子くんをスカウトにやってきた。君こそ何者だ? (She doesn't seem to be sharing memories... Dissociative Identity Disorder, huh? According to the files, it could be due to her upbringing with two mothers...) I’m Koichi Kizakura. I’m here to scout Toko Fukawa from Hope’s Peak Academy. And you are? Genocide Jack: うーーん、かっちょよく名乗りたいところだけどぉ、アタシってホラ、有名人だから!ナイショにしとくわぁ! Hmmmmm, I’d love to introduce myself in style, but, you know, I’m kind of famous! So I’ll keep it a secret for now!
Kizakura: 有名人? Famous? Genocide Jack: その希望ヶ峰学園ってお上品な学校に行けばアタシ好みの萌える男子がオーガニックに栽培されてそうジャ〜ン? もしかしてぇ?あなたは意中の殿方もぉー?いらっしゃるのかしらァーー!?妄想が捗るわぁー!! If I go to that fancy Hope's Peak Academy, I bet there'll be a lot of hot boys growing up organically just for me, don't you think? Or maybe...? Do you have a guy you're head over heels for? My imagination is running wiiiild!
Kizakura: 意中の殿方って……あぁやべやべ、思い浮かべるな! A guy I’m head over heels for... Oh no, stop thinking about it! Genocide Jack: いいわ!その一瞬の油断!ふと脳裏をよぎった親友の面影!そ・れ・が!どんどん大きくなっていくからお大事にねェー!! Perfect! That momentary slip! The fleeting image of your dear friend flashing in your mind! That, my dear, will only grow bigger and bigger, so take careee!
Kizakura: 趣味嗜好がまるっきり正反対だな…腐川ちゃんの方はオーソドックスなラブコメすら嫌がってたのに、こっちはBLまで許容しているみたいだ… Their tastes are completely opposite... Fukawa-chan couldn’t even stand orthodox rom-coms, but this one seems fine with BL...
Genocide Jack: ハァーイ、大正解!アタシはぁ、パトスだだ漏れの貴腐人なので!調子いい時はぁ、視界に入った男をビンゴ方式でゼェーんぶ絡める!ウァハハハハ!ハ…ハ、ハクシュッ! Ding, ding, ding! Correct! I’m a kifujin* overflowing with pathos! And when I’m in a good mood, I’ll ship every guy in my sight like I’m playing bingo! Gyahahahaha! H- H- achoo! (* This is one of the ways that otaku girls who like BL refer to themselves, and refers to people who like BL even more than fujoshi.)
Toko: へ、あ、あれ…あたし…? Huh? W-wait... what was I...? Kizakura: (くしゃみで人格チェンジするって、そんな古典的な…。この子、自分を主役にして小説書いた方が売れるんじゃないの…?) (She changes personalities with a sneeze? That’s so old-school... She could probably sell more novels if she wrote about herself as the main character...)
Toko: き、記憶が飛んでる…!あ、あなたまさか、私を眠らせて、無理やり!? M-my memory’s blank...! D-Did you force me to sleep and then...!? Kizakura: 永遠の眠りにつきそうなのは、こっちの方なんだけど… I’m the one who feels like I’m about to sleep forever...
Toko: な、何よ、殺人鬼に遭遇したヒョロイ殺され役みたいなシケた顔して…! What’s with that pathetic look on your face, like you’re the weakling about to get killed by a murderer!? Kizakura: (殺人鬼…そういえばあの殺気…。いや、まさかな。) (Murderer...? Now that I think about it, that killing intent... No, it couldn’t be...)
---------------------------
Toko's part is much longer, but this is the whole part where Genocide Jack appears. If you listen to the audio, you'll see that Miyuki Sawashiro's performance is really wonderful, but I hope it conveys at least a little of what it was like!
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jj-one · 6 months
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MIND GAMES ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
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── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ bf!Jungkook x gf!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre/tags. smut, v small amount of angst, fluff, thigh riding, face sitting, body worshipping, jk lowkey simping hella hard in this & we love to see it <3 words. 1.4k
**old repost from my deleted blog
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“Can you stop ignoring me please? It's driving me crazy.” You whine to your nonchalant boyfriend, urging him to mutter at least one word.
He has been giving you the silent treatment since this morning. You and Jungkook got into a petty argument that could've been easily resolved within seconds had he not just stormed out mid-convo.
Rightfully so— you were upset by him not wanting to talk things out and he got all defensive by saying you were ‘overreacting’. The bickering only spiraled from there and once you realized you had to leave for work you left without even saying goodbye.
You felt bad for not at least giving a peck on the cheek but you were slightly annoyed by how immature he could be at times. Once you came back home, you wanted to talk with him immediately to patch things up yet he's still being difficult with you. His silence was speaking mere volumes.
“So you're really going to play that game now huh? You know you can't ignore me forever Kook.” You snicker, all those pent up emotions filling you with an intense longing for him. “Can you say something?”
Jungkook remained quiet as a mouse, still refusing to speak, just sitting there examining you. Taking all of you in, basking in his own little glory. He wasn't trying to ignore you at first but now it has turned into a game for him. His only goal was seeing how far he could push your buttons until you break.
There was nothing more frustrating than craving someone's affection. His affection. Usually he'd give it to you on a silver platter, spoiling you with all the love and attention he could provide. But today — you were gonna have to work for it, and that you did.
Since talking wasn't the solution you try your best guess and think of something else. That's when an evil plan struck your mind — you were going to get a word of out him one way or another.
You were still wearing your work clothes so you strip naked right in front him, taking off every piece of clothing to only leave you in your panties. He tried to make it not so obvious that he was staring but you could feel his eyes on you the whole time. Still quiet, he looks up at you with his big, brown doe eyes — glancing over every inch of your bare form.
Licking his lips while leaning back on the couch he takes in all of you, losing himself in your alluring gaze. As much as he wanted to believe he had all the control in this situation, you played a deafening role in making sure this won't be an easy win for him.
As soon as you fully undressed you make your way over to Jungkook, subtly swaying your hips to send a rise out of him. Walking up to your boyfriend you find yourself straddling his thighs between your legs, the bitter silence only creating a thicker tension. His face looked so innocent, you couldn't help but go in to kiss him. Grabbing the side of his face to pull him in for a sweet, sensual kiss, molding your lips to match his hungry movement.
He was passionate with the kiss — almost leaving you winded by the end. You could tell that he's been holding that in since this morning, you couldn't open your eyes afterwards, savoring in the taste of him on your tongue.
“I'm an asshole, sorry y/n. I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes… but l'm thankful I have someone as patient as you in my life.” Jungkook finally spoke, his gentle tone brings you a familiar source of comfort.
Heated make outs turned you both into even more dangerous territory. A constant rush of heat surges throughout your body, leading all the way down to your aching core, you swung your head back in pleasure while riding your boyfriend's pretty, muscular thighs. The light-blue distressed jeans he wore showing just the slightest bit of skin to make you go feral. The weak, sweaty kisses in between rutting against him — the friction of his jeans grazing over your clothed heat, making you feverishly whimper out for him.
Jungkook couldn't keep his hands off you if he tried. Everything about you is absolutely stunning and perfect to him. His hands dance along the perimeters of your body, tracing every line and curve of your heavenly beauty — embarking on the notion that you are all his. He needs to show how grateful and lucky he is to have you more often.
“God... need you so bad right now..I don't wanna waste another second without having my cock inside you.” He keens, migrating his lips up the side of your earlobe.
He's going to have to put in the work to get a reward like that though.
“I want you to eat me out then we can talk later.” You boldly counter, not even giving him an option at this point.
His face lights up with an idea, “Wanna sit on my face princess?” You nod right away, letting Jungkook maneuver you to the side so he could lye down comfortably — he looks up at you with wandering eyes as you go in for another kiss. He hums into the kiss, moving his hands to grab your ass. It's beginning to become too unbearable to keep your panties on.
Breaking the kiss to remove your soaked underwear, you toss them on the floor and meet your boyfriend's handsome face once again.
The anticipation was killing him, he couldn't wait to devour your pretty little pussy already ;( As soon as you positioned yourself below him, he held onto your thighs with both hands — making eye contact with you as he pressed a kiss to your swollen bud.
Any minor touch to your clit makes you overtly sensitive, letting out a tiny mewl from the light action. His lips part open to dip his tongue into your wetness, “mmmh... fuck Koo” you hiss, already needing to brace yourself to not cum early. His mouth always works magic on you, leaving you with an earth-shattering orgasm every single time.
He flattens his tongue completely now, dragging a long stripe across your slit, drinking up all your essence, letting none of you go to waste. His face was so deeply buried into you all you could see now was the top of his head — grabbing a fistful of his messy hair to pull on later. You rock your hips back and forth to build more movement, grinding on his face while not having a care in the world if he could breathe or not.
From the looks of it, there were no complications on his end since he started moaning against you — the vibrations sending instant chills to your spine. You feel his nose brush up against your bundle of nerves, his tongue appears again to spread it’s brutal attack on your clit. His warmth on the sensitive sprout makes you jut your hips into a hastier motion.
“Shit... keep going just like that…i'll cum all over your face,” you cry out, feeling yourself close to making a huge mess and creaming all over his face.
“Cum on my face please, my precious little doll.” He only breaks away to say that quickly and attaches hisself back instantly.
Those words did it for you, it was like ultimate green light to reaching your climax. Two digits enter your weeping cunt and his tongue goes back to sucking on your puffy abused clit — the knot in your stomach tightens as he produces sloppier licks to your leaking folds.
A lusty, guttural moan escaped your lips, screaming your boyfriend's name at the top of your lungs. Jungkook keeps your hips steady with a tight grasp to help ride out your intense high; his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping. His face saturated with the glint of your sweet nectar, he licks his lips and savors the delicious taste of you, there's nothing that'll ever compare.
"So beautiful my baby.. so fucking gorgeous.." he chants under his breath, kissing the apex of your thighs. He'll never get tired of admiring your pretty body— or you in general.
Jungkook has always been more of a giver than a receiver, he likes to watch his partner writhe under him, loves when they cry and violently shake while he's giving them the most pleasurable moments of their life. He also likes to get what he wants in the end but that isn't always needed for him to be satisfied. He'll get his nut eventually, but in the meantime he's going to keep playing with you some more.
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cobaltperun · 4 months
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I haveth a request ☝️
could you write Cairo x g!p fem reader smut.
Maybe a childhood best friends type situation like Genius, but they stayed friends all throughout middle school and high school and they catch feelings for each other somewhere in between middle school and beginning of high school. They constantly sneak longing stares at each other and unknowingly make each other jealous until the tension is unbearable and one day when Cairo, Winnie, and reader are hanging out they started telling hookup stories but Cairo is still a virgin so she just sits there quietly listening and after Winnie goes home things happen.
No Chance
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Cairo Sweet x Female (GP!) Reader (Request) (Smut, minors do not interact)
Masterlist
A/N: Feast! On the worst thing I have written thus far! I'm sorry Anon, this just didn't work for me. I wrote it, I kinda made what you asked for, but it didn't quite inspire me and I don't feel like leaving it for later would have made it flow any better.
Word count: 3.1k
You can’t love her like that. She’s your best friend.
Those were the words you kept saying to yourself for over four years now. Yet that love kept getting stronger as time passed. And every single time you thought that maybe, just maybe you could get over her you would just see her with someone, and it wouldn’t even have to be more than just sharing a laugh with some random guy, and you’d get reminded of how strong your feelings for her were.
Those feelings didn’t matter though. She was your best friend, and she didn’t love you back.
~X~
For how long was she going to torture herself like this? She loved you, she longed for you, yet her feelings always felt unrequited. True, Cairo has never been the most direct with her feelings toward you, fearing she would ruin the friendship that lasted since she was four years old. But there was no way you missed all of her longing glances. All the times she watched you so love-struck Winnie would tease her about it when it was just the two of them.
You were her protective best friend and you acted as one, though Winnie often referred to it as jealousy. Winnie didn’t know anything. You were like that even when the two of you were kids, protective and kind. It didn’t mean anything more, as she used to hope.
Not since you…
She couldn’t get angry, you just chose some other girl and that was it, and ever since then she lost hope of ever being with you. If it really didn’t mean anything to you to lose your virginity like that, why didn’t you just come to Cairo?
If it meant nothing to you, maybe in the end it would mean nothing to Cairo as well. As it was, she wasn’t even an option for you.
~X~
You and Winnie came over to hang out at Cairo’s place, since it was the most convenient location. Perks of her parents never being around, you guessed. Though you knew Cairo would gladly trade that perk for loving parents.
It started out as a regular night, you and Cairo leaning against the headboard of her bed, while Winnie sat at the foot of it. Being this close to Cairo wasn’t anything new, but you couldn’t help but feel the tension, something unspoken between the two of you ever since you told her about the girl you slept with. Either way, the three of you were playing cards until Winnie decided to speak up.
“Oh, yeah, did you ever go out with that girl you fucked?” she asked while you were in the middle of drinking the juice.
And, naturally, you nearly choked on it, because who the fuck opens the conversation with that?!
“Easy, lover girl,” Cairo was patting your back a bit too harshly, but it was getting the job done, and nearly choking made you miss the passive aggression dripping from her tone.
“Thanks,” you wheezed, finally sure that you would survive. “I’m okay now,” you glared at Winnie who just shrugged, though she did have an apologetic smile on her face.
“So, the what’s-her-name girl,” she reminded you as Cairo leaned back on her bed, though she made some extra distance between the two of you.
You rolled your eyes. “It was a one-night stand, we had a fun time and I left her house after we were done, I didn’t even sleep over,” you shrugged, giving up the minimal information because you knew Winnie wouldn’t let it go now that she remembered it.
Winnie stared at you blankly. “That’s a boring story for your first time,” she complained.
“Better boring than bad,” you figured reminding Winnie of her own first experience, which, well, didn’t end that spectacularly.
“Still,” Winnie let the gravity do its’ job as she leaned to the side and fell onto the bed. “I thought you’d wait for someone you love,” she pointed out.
You looked away, not wanting to look at Cairo at the moment.
“Y/N?” Cairo noticed your silence, forcing you to turn back and grin.
“There’s no point. I don’t have a chance with her, so, you know, no point in waiting,” you’ve given up on Cairo ever returning your feelings, so it really didn’t matter who you lost your virginity to. Not the most mature approach, but you were only eighteen, it was difficult to expect a mature approach from someone your age.
You could see Winnie about to tease you, but you glanced at her, shaking your head lightly and it luckily sent the message across, stopping her from saying anything else.
Eventually, it was just you and Cairo, as Winnie had to go finish some art project and for once Cairo figured she wanted to watch a movie.
“So, it’s nothing to you, having sex?” she asked you out of blue as the slow opening scene began playing on the TV, and you looked at her, frankly, confused by the tone of her voice. She sounded jealous and if she truly was jealous, you wished she showed you that earlier.
“I guess,” you fell back so you were lying next to her instead of sitting, though you could still see her face, and just looked at the ceiling. It’s not that it was nothing to you, you just, as you said to her and Winnie before, didn’t think you had a chance with ‘the one you loved’ that one being Cairo. So, you went and lost your virginity, it was mutual understanding that it was a one-night stand, and that was it.
“So, you wouldn’t mind taking someone’s virginity?” she asked, leaning back but not quite lying down and trailed her fingers across your arm.
Blood rushed to your face at the look in her eyes. You had to be misunderstanding this somehow, right? Surely, she didn’t mean her virginity?! “Yours?” you squeaked, which only made you feel even more embarrassed.
Cairo nodded, blushing furiously. “I don’t really want to lose it to just anyone, and you’re,” she paused, looking down as her hand slipped from your arm and onto the bed. “My best friend,” she refused to look at you.
You swallowed hard, fuck, she was serious. You touched her chin and gently tilted it up. “Are you sure?” you asked her and she just nodded, her eyes finally meeting your own.
“Let me take you out on a date first, give you the whole experience,” you suggested. “Tomorrow after school, we grab a nice dinner, and then if you’re still sure this is what you want, we’ll do it,” you still expected her to tell you it was a prank, but she just nodded, and though it was awkward and both of you stole occasional glances at each other you managed to get through the movie.
~X~
You took Cairo out, as you promised. After school you showed up at her house with a bouquet of red roses, properly dressed up for the date and forcing yourself not to look at her too much, as she was dressed in a beautiful, kinda short, black dress with open back.
“You look amazing,” you said smiling slightly as you handed her the flowers.
“Thanks,” she brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and the two of you went out. You took her to the local restaurant, then to a bookstore, then for a brief walk before you finally went back to her place, and you could feel both of you being on the edge at the moment.
“If you change your mind we can stop at any time, it doesn’t matter if it’s now or if I’m hard, or if I’m even inside you. You say stop, we stop,” you assured her as she led you by your hand to her bedroom.
Cairo nodded and kissed your cheek. “You as well, I don’t want to pressure you into anything,” she told you as she sat down on her bed.
“Thanks,” you sat down to her right and leaned over, kissing her neck and her breath hitched. “Is this okay?”
“Mhm,” she closed her eyes and leaned back, exposing her neck to you. She moved her hands up and the tips of her fingers lightly massaged your cheek and jaw while her left hand slipped to the back of your head, her fingers running through your hair and massaging your scalp. “Oh,” she hummed when you found a more sensitive spot and sucked on it, surely leaving a hickey right there.
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” you whispered, your lips gliding over her skin until you reached her ear and gently nibbled on her earlobe. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Cairo squeezing her thighs, you saw her breasts rising and falling as her breathing became deeper.
You were going slow, making sure she felt every sensation as you slid your hand down her side, to her thigh, and you squeezed lightly before pushing her thighs apart and slipping a hand under her dress. You felt her tensing and relaxing as you caressed her bare stomach and sides, just playfully teasing her by occasionally pulling at the strap of her bra.
“Y/N,” she sighed, and you drank it all in, every small sigh, every tiny whimper or moan, every sound you made her make. You took it all in, not for a moment pausing when it came to kissing her neck.
“How are you feeling?” you asked her.
Did you really have to ask her? The only thing that would have made this even better would be if you kissed her on the lips, but it felt like you weren’t going to do that. Even without that she felt so damn good, your warm soft lips on her neck, your wet tongue, dragging over her sensitive neck, your hand under her dress, teasing her everywhere you could reach. She felt aroused, she felt the wetness soaking her panties and that was the only uncomfortable feeling she had. She needed to get them off, to feel your fingers down there instead. “It feels good, I need more though,” she gasped as you bit her neck. How long have you been paying attention to her neck? It was sensitive to begin with, but now it felt like every little touch was going straight to her puss. “Please, Y/N,” she moaned and leaned back, falling onto the bed and pulling you along with her.
“Are you getting wet, hm, Baby?” you rasped, and she gasped, her fingers digging into the back of your head as her left hand slipped down your throat, her nails undoubtedly leaving red stripes down your skin
“Yes! Please touch me,” she whimpered arching her back when you cupped her breast through her bra. You were building up her anticipation and she wondered why she ever waited to do this. Why did she never asked you to take her virginity before. “Can I kiss you?” she pleaded as she made you look her in the eyes.
“Cairo, that’s…” you paused, losing your momentum. As crazy as it might sound, you felt like kissing her would make this too real, that it would be one detail that makes all your feelings come out. That feeling her lips against yours would, more than anything, make you give into your feelings and ruin the friendship that was already hanging by the thread.
“Please,” she was breathing heavily, turned on, yet you saw something else in her eyes, something that couldn’t be true.
“I,” you tried to resist her, to not cross that line, but how many times did you imagine kissing her? You feared you’d regret either choice. In the end you nodded, and her lips pressed softly against yours, her hand gripping the fabric of your shirt as she pressed against you. And instead of fondling her breast you lowered your hand to her waist and hugged her.
Cairo moaned into the kiss, feeling like someone was setting off fireworks in her head. You let her kiss you, and she would be damned if she didn’t kiss you as many times as she would be allowed to tonight. If this was the one and only time the two of you would be intimate like this, she wanted all of it.
You separated from air, and you leaned your forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” your apology made her heart sink. “I love you. You’re the one I have no chance wi-“ she cut you off with another kiss, her tongue danced with your own and she made you switch positions to get on top of you. “Fuck, Cairo,” you hissed as she threw her dress off and lifted your shirt up.
“You,” she was feral, kissing your neck, grinding against you, her hands roaming your body as if she had to map out every bit of your skin in her mind. “Dumbass!”
You just blinked, eyes wide and mouth open as you watched her, unable to come up with a response.
“Don’t have a chance with me?! I’ve loved you for years you idiot!” she yelled, her voice cracking as she pulled back and just looked at you. “I love you,” she whispered, kissing you deeply and it all made sense now, her reactions, her glances, and you cursed yourself for being too blind to see that all along your feelings were reciprocated. “I love you,” she said again when she paused kissing you. “Now, let’s finish what we started,” she whispered, her lips ghosting over yours and you lost it a bit when she took her underwear off and helped you strip as well. You were already hard, but you wanted to prepare her more, to make her cum, or at least bring her close first.
“Yes, Ma’am,” you teased and slipped a finger between her folds, she was wet enough for your finger to just slip in.
“Fuck,” she whispered at the feeling of your finger pushing into her and she wondered how your cock would feel as she experimentally rocked her hips back and forth, causing her clit to rub against your palm.
“That’s it, Baby, ride it,” you gently pushed another finger inside her after you were sure she was wet and stretched enough, and it took a bit to adjust, but the pleasure more than made up for it. Cairo leaned down, pulling your head to her breasts and moaning. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, she gripped your shoulder, and the back of your head as you kissed her breasts and occasionally sucked her nipples. She felt good before, but now that she knew you loved her, now that you were no longer having sex as best friends, but as two people that loved one another, every touch felt more intense.
You held her hip with your free hand, your fingers occasionally slipping down to her ass as you guided her movement. “Wait,” she cried out. She was close, she was so close, but she wanted to have an orgasm with your cock inside her, and just like you promised you would you stopped completely, pulling your fingers out of her and completely halting everything you were doing. “I want your cock inside me,” she assured you before you could start worrying.
You nodded, flipping the two of you around once more. “It’ll be easier like this,” you told her as you brushed some of her bangs from her eyes and kissed her softly. You pulled a condom out of the pocket of your pants and opened it. “Just give me a moment,” you whispered in her ear, putting the condom on and just to make it as easy as it possibly could be, lubed it up.
Cairo moaned as you slowly pushed the head of your cock inside her while rubbing her clit. “I’ve got you, just relax,” you hugged her with your other arm and peppered her neck and shoulders with butterfly kisses as you pushed further inside.
“I know,” she hugged you back, pulled you closer to her and took several deep breaths as you pushed the last inch into her. “You got me,” she whispered, throwing her head back and taking a moment to adjust.
“Does it hurt?” you asked as you left kisses from her shoulder all the way to her lips.
“No, I just feel so full, just give me a moment,” she pulled you in for a kiss, her tongue slipping inside your mouth as she slowly pulled her hips back a bit and then pushed back against you. “Feels so good,” she moaned, encouraging you to slowly start moving as well.
She was tight, and her pussy was clenching around you so hard you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long, and you didn’t want to resort to thinking about anything else to stop yourself from cumming. Not when you were finally with Cairo. “I don’t think I’ll last long,” you told her as much.
“Me neither!” she cried out, her face twisting into an expression of pleasure as you gradually picked up the pace. “Just a bit more, Baby,” she encouraged you and you rubbed her clit harder, intent on making her cum first. Your efforts paid off as her back arched and she gasped, cumming with a near silent cry and pushing you over the edge as well.
You pulled out, shaky and out of breath, but satisfied as you kissed Cairo once more. “You have no idea how much I am going to kiss you from now on,” you chuckled, unable to get enough of her lips.
“Mhm, you better do some other things as well,” she pecked you on the lips, a bit too tired to do anything else.
You nodded, taking a deep breath and feeling your body relaxing as you helped Cairo calm down as well. “I’m going to go and get a bath ready for you,” you whispered, but just as you were about to pull away she reached up and grabbed your hand.
“For us,” she said with a smile on her face and you nodded.
“Right, for us,” you leaned down, kissing her softly once more before you headed to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and get a bath ready for you and Cairo.
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ikarakie · 1 year
Text
the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.
he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.
the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.
he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.
"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.
"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.
wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.
"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.
"changing your tire, sir?"
"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.
"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.
was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."
"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.
he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.
"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"
it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.
"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"
wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.
(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.
when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.
steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)
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mochi-owos · 2 years
Text
Genshin men with a hot ass reader?!
Scaramouche, Kazuha, Childe, Al-Haitham, Cyno x Reader
I’m so sorry for the wait, and this isn’t as long, but regardless I hope you enjoy<33 @alizaneth (I can’t find your other @ 😨)
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Scaramouche
He never thought he would be defiled by the shackles of beauty and romanticism but fuck, you were really hot, so fucking hot. He really wanted to look away but he just-- he just couldn't! Everything about you was so alluring, everything you did made him want to watch more. And just calling you hot would be an utterly impudent way to describe someone like you.
"Need something?" You smiled, he almost melted on the spot. Your smile was so pretty.
"Huh? No. I didn't need anything." Youd be a liar if you said you didnt notice his little blush.
You tilt your head, a hand moving to your hip, "Is that so? You were staring." You tried to bite back a laugh from the way he shriveled.
"You're pretty.." he mumbled.
"What was that?" You couldn't help but tease, he's too cute!
He walked closer to you, snaking an arm your waist, taking another hand and holding yours, then snuggling his head into your neck, "I said, you're really pretty, I like everything about you. I like your eyes and the way they sparkle, I like your cute hands, and I like your smile, I want to have them forever."
"Someone sentimental.”
“Shut up.”
Kazuha
To my dearest,
I'm sorry for my prolonged absence, I truly do wish to bask in your presence once more. But this journey is long, and taking lots longer than anticipated, I too-- had hoped to be in your arms by now. I miss your sweet scent, your loving embrace, your warm touch, the glisten in your star struck eyes. I wish for every second I have to be with you, if you long for more stars in the sky and I will shoot them for you, I would stare into your eyes everyday in hopes I go blind so you may be the last thing I see, I wish to breath nothing but you-- for you are my air. I hope to be home soon, please wait a little longer my love.
Forever missing you, your beloved husband
Childe
See, this was his first time, seeing someone so pretty-- I mean, he's most definitely very attractive people in his life, but by the gods, you were quite literally too hot to handle. After every encounter he was close to fainting, once, he got a nosebleed after you had snuck up on him! Your harmonic voice ringing in his ears.. oh gods, he was simping. But a poor soul he was, he had zero rizz.
"Hello there pretty thing." He smirked, attempting to lean against a wall, little did he know he was just a tad too far away which resulted in him almost falling, stumbling he manages to lean against the wall wiggling his eyebrows.
You laughed, shit, your laugh was really cute, "Hello, Childe. What brings around here?"
"I just wanted too see the PretTiest person eVer." His voice cracking in-between, fuck, has he always been this nervous around you?
You only laughed, walking forward, "Come, let's go for a stroll."
Thank god you had a thing for losers.
Al-Haitham
Al-Haitham is not one easily swayed by second class, biased, standards of beauty, except you, fucking hell, you defied all known logic of beauty and standards, you were the essence of ethereality, built by the most generous of god's, handpicked to be their hidden most precious gem.
The way the golden sun hit your skin the exact same one you always seemed to be glowing in, the way your voice was basically etched into his brain, the way it felt as though he constantly wanted to be in your embrace, always wanting you-- wanting to be nothing but yours.
So when the faithful day he finally had a chance to converse with you he knew he couldn't fail.
"Hello, you are.. er.. looking nice today." He was awkward about it, and so was his "smile"-- to be honest, you couldn't even consider it that, it's was more like his face was contoreted by a child, you weren't sure whether to run away and cry or ask him if his face is ok, never once had you seen the man smile.
"Oh! Uh.. Thank you, Grand Sage (?)." You looked down, picking at your hands.
Damnit, why did you react like that? He complimented you, just like the book told him to do (The book: how to rizz them up), was that you being embarrassed? No way, it didn't look like it, was his smile weird? You looked back at him up it took a few moments for you to actually say something.
Swallowing your saliva you spoke, "Uhm.. Mr Grand Sage, why are you staring at me like that..? It's a bit scary, Sir.." It was so hard to say that, that was your boss for goodness sake, he could fire you for anything if you did anything wrong, though, he doesn't seem like the type.
"Oh."
.
.
.
You think you’re about to faint, "Oh"?!
"I see, my apologies. I was trying to smile. I truly don't doubt my sincerity, you truly do look so uhm.. attractive (?)." He clears his throat, "I'm sorry, I'm not that best with this romantic predicaments. I would like you to dinner, would you like that?"
Cyno
Cyno has always found it easy to tell people "no", it was never a hard word for him. On a constant basis would be be using the word. But why, why is it though he simply cannot bring himself to say it to you?
Perhaps it was the thought he couldn't stand the thought of you being upset with him, your tears, or even perhaps your indifference.
This time, you need help with some commissions, but it was finally his off, he wanted to play TGC, could you blame him for his reluctance?
Your eyes soften, "Please Cyno? I can't do it without you."
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, fuck it all, shit. He froze, I think his pulse stopped, tighnari running up to him and playfully checking his pulse, "Uh-oh, we're loosing him!" He teased hitting cyno's shoulder.
How could he resist you? Fuck it all, "I- uh.." he signed, "fine."
"Ohh! Thank you, Cyno! You're the best! I'll pay you back promise!"
He only wanted you.
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Text
Love Me A Little
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Character: Secretary!Bucky x Female!Reader
Words: 1,539
Summary: "Love me, even just a little." When she uttered those words, they struck Bucky like a bolt of lightning, leaving him utterly bewildered. After all, he was just a secretary—his world and hers seemed galaxies apart.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
A/N: Check out the male version of this story - Be Mine.
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It was already 1:00 a.m., and the streets lay deserted, easing Bucky's drive. The sleek black Bugatti smoothly entered the apartment basement car park. Just one more turn, and he would find his usual parking spot.
"Screech." The sound of tires screeching echoed in the empty basement.
"Huh?" Bucky's foot instinctively hit the brake as he caught sight of the familiar figure standing in front of his car.
"Y/N?"
It's you. The sole daughter of the Rogers family, the heiress to Starlight Enterprises, a conglomerate spanning oil and gas, telecom, retail, and financial services.
You had fled, prompting the company to dispatch security teams in search of you.
And here you were.
Bucky stepped out of the car. "What are you doing? Don't you realize everyone's been searching for you?"
You scoffed, your tone laced with defiance. "So what? At least everyone will learn that I'm serious. I refuse to marry that guy."
Bucky understood the depth of your frustration. Your family was orchestrating an engagement between you and their business partner. But you vehemently opposed it. He comprehended why; the man they wanted you to marry was notorious—a playboy and a drug addict.
Unable to sway your resolve, Bucky carefully chose his words. "You should go home."
He reached out, gently clasping your hand, his touch pleading, wanting to guide you to safety.
But you recoiled, pushing his hand away. "I don't want to."
Bucky's heart sank, his expression pained. "Your family is worried about you."
Your retort was sharp, cutting. "Are they really? Or are they just afraid of losing their golden ticket?"
A tense silence enveloped them as Bucky grappled with the weight of your words. As the secretary to your brother, Steve, the Vice President, he was privy to the inner workings of wealthy families, aware that most marriages were arranged for business purposes.
Like Steve and Peggy, who defied the odds and found happiness together despite the pressures of their world, you refused to succumb to a loveless marriage.
With teary eyes, you gazed at Bucky, desperation etched in every tear. "I'll tell my parents I'll marry you instead."
Bucky sighed, feeling the weight of your request once more. You had asked him this before, seeking refuge from the loveless future awaiting you. Each time, he had declined.
"Not everything will always go your way," he murmured, his words heavy with resignation. "You've been living in a bubble as Princess Rogers." He paused, unable to bring himself to utter the name of your family's empire. "Now you're facing reality."
You fought back the tears, stung by his harshness. It was the first time Bucky had spoken so coldly to you. "Do you think my feelings for you are fake?"
"My whole life has been arranged from A to Z without my opinion," you continued, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.
"The only thing I have is my dream of us living happily ever after. Can I at least have that?" Your breaths came in ragged gasps as you struggled to contain your emotions.
"Stop dreaming. Go home," Bucky commanded, his voice firm as he pointed behind you.
'Screech.'
With a screech of tires, a white Mercedes arrived to collect you. It dawned on you that Bucky had already informed the security team of your whereabouts.
As you watched Bucky walk away, a surge of determination washed over you. Clenching your fists, you whispered, "I'll show you."
########
A few days later
The entire Rogers family had gathered for tonight's dinner, including your grandparents, Thomas Rogers, the esteemed founder of the company. Bucky joined the dinner as well, having become one of the company's key figures, seated right beside you.
Despite the gravity of your previous conversation, you seemed to have put it aside, acting as if nothing had happened when you saw Bucky.
The dinner unfolded in its usual extravagant manner, with everyone engaging in polite small talk until dessert was served.
Your grandmother, Anna, broke the silence. "It's wonderful that we could all come together like this. We must discuss our youngest's engagement."
Your mother, Sophia, nodded, her smile gentle. "I met with them four days ago, and we've already ironed out all the details, from the church to the wedding."
Bucky's mind raced. Four days ago? That's precisely when you had gone missing.
Anna's excitement bubbled over. "This wedding will be magnificent. I can hardly contain myself."
But only the two women seemed enthused; your grandfather, Thomas, and your father, Benjamin, remained stoic, while your brother Steve stayed silent.
Then, a sudden sound cut through the air—a sharp "clank" as a fork stabbed into a plate.
All eyes turned to you.
"I don't like it," you stated flatly, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
Sophia's hand hesitated mid-air, poised to call the waitress, but froze when she heard her daughter's words.
"I don't like anything," you continued, your voice ringing with defiance. "I don't like that person, the wedding, anything."
"Y/N, stop," Sophia interjected, her tone tinged with frustration. "We've discussed this."
"Discuss?" you retorted bitterly. "Do you mean when you ignore my words?"
Anna's patience wore thin. "Y/N, enough with the tantrum. This concerns the entire family."
You crossed your arms defiantly. "I refuse to marry him."
Anna rose from her seat, ready to reprimand you, but a sharp glance from Thomas halted her in her tracks. Without a word, she sank back down, chastened by her husband silent command.
Thomas fixed you with a steady gaze, the same gaze that had once spoiled you as his beloved granddaughter. "Explain to me the reason why."
"I don't love him," you declared, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love someone else."
A sudden palpitation coursed through Bucky's chest. He sensed the situation spiraling out of control.
"Whose the person you love?" Thomas inquired, his voice firm.
You didn't hesitate. "Bucky."
'Ba-dump'
The room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the rapid thudding of Bucky's heart echoing in his ears, his mind racing as he grappled with the revelation unfolding before him.
Bucky rose hastily, his intention to apologize to the Chairman halted as your hand clasped his, the determination in your eyes stopping him in his tracks. It was the first time he had seen you like this, and it sent a shiver down his spine.
As all eyes turned towards you, you swallowed hard before speaking up. "And I'm pregnant. Bucky is the father."
The room erupted in chaos as Sophia and Anna screamed in unison.
"What?" they exclaimed in disbelief.
"Bucky! How dare you touch my daughter!" Sophia lunged forward, her hand reaching for Bucky's hair, but Benjamin intervened, restraining her.
Bucky opened his mouth to protest and deny the accusation, but the words stuck in his throat. He was taken by surprise, too.
"Silence," Thomas, the Chairman's authoritative voice, cut through the commotion, bringing an abrupt end to the chaos.
He rose from his seat, followed by Benjamin and Steve, their expressions a mix of shock and concern.
Fixing Bucky with a steely gaze, Thomas uttered just two words. "A word."
Bucky swallowed hard, his heart pounding as he replied, "Yes, Sir," bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation.
########
In Benjamin's office, Bucky stood before the three men, the weight of their scrutiny heavy upon him as they remained silent. Finally, Thomas broke the tension with a direct question. "Is everything true?"
Bucky knelt before his boss and friend, his voice steady but his heart pounding. "No, sir. None of it is true. I've never laid a hand on her."
Thomas's expression softened, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "Good."
Bucky let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, grateful for Thomas's understanding.
But then Benjamin spoke up, his tone contemplative. "Then why don't you like my daughter?"
Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion as he lifted his head to meet Benjamin's gaze.
"She's better off with you than with that spoiled man," Steve interjected, his voice firm.
Benjamin nodded in agreement, his eyes holding a hint of understanding.
Bucky was taken aback. "What?"
Thomas leaned forward, his voice grave. "The wedding arrangement was orchestrated by my wife and Y/N's mother. I'm relieved my granddaughter took a stand today."
Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder, a mixture of relief and gratitude in his eyes. "I nearly lost my cool when she said she was pregnant. I almost punched you. Thank goodness it was a lie."
Bucky struggled to find words, overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events.
Steve's tone softened. "Stay with her. I won't allow my sister to marry that man."
As the men continued their discussion, Bucky's mind raced, unable to fully comprehend the depth of their support.
Excusing himself, Bucky closed the door behind him, only to find you waiting for him outside.
Your worried expression melted his defenses as you approached him.
"What did they say?" you asked, searching his eyes for answers.
Bucky hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing."
You breathed a sigh of relief and pulled him into a tight hug, his body stiffening like a log. Lifting your head to meet his gaze, determination flashed in your eyes.
"I'll make you love me," you vowed softly. "Even just a little."
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Author Note: Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.
Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.
Only if you feel like it!
Here's the link: Ko-fi
Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!
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spirit-lanterns · 5 days
Note
Hi!! I'm new to tumblr and English is not my native language, so please excuse any mistakes!
First off, I really enjoy your blog! Thank you for your content, your thoughts, and your au!! I especially like the omegaverse au!
Second off, I have angst and fluff thoughts about alpha!Jingliu. Imagine if you became Jingliu's omega before she was mara-struck? She ran away from Lofu, leaving you alone for years. She was afraid she would hurt you or even worse. It was hard for you without her, but you never let another alpha touch you, even in heat. You refused to believe that Jingliu was gone and would never come back.
And now, after all these years, Jingliu finds Ruan Mei, who can heal her or at least ease her symptoms. Now Jingliu can finally return to you.
When Jingliu returns to Lofu, she no longer expects to find you after all this years, but she smells a familiar scent and goes to you. She witnesses you refusing other alphas, saying that you belong to only one alpha. She saves you and finally a happy reunion happens!!
Sorry if you have already written your thoughts about this👉👈
-🌻
CW: Omegaverse, breeding
Aaaaaaaaa such a cute, wholesome Drabble about Alpha! Jingliu returning to her mate after several years 🥺
I imagine that throughout all those years of staying loyal to Jingliu and refusing any alpha’s advances, your heats must’ve been pretty painful to go through on your own. But nevertheless, you wanted to stay loyal to Jingliu and managed to tough it out until she came back. I’m sure the first touch from Jingliu felt like heaven to a touch starved omega like you. Even her scent made your knees tremble with need as Jingliu scooped you up in her arms and ravaged you right there at the entrance of your home. (She just couldn’t wait for the bedroom)
After several years of neglecting your needs, Jingliu’s embrace made the omega inside of you latch onto her like a leech. You two couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, staying in the most intimate positions as possible while Jingliu made up for all those years of not being with you. You two go at it like animals for the next several hours, almost an entire day of just raw sex and primal desire, the years of lust that has built up just spilling over like a flood.
You both pass out from the abundance of pleasure and love, but then wake up again to continue. It has been too long since you’ve both been mated, and Jingliu shows her apologies by stuffing you full with her cum over and over again until she’s sure you’re pregnant. It’s the least she could do after neglecting you for so long 🥺
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krirebr · 4 months
Text
More Than This 5
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Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader
Word Count: ~6.1k
Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.
Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, Linda being Linda, all of the Thrombeys being really awful actually, explicit language, references to bad sex, flagrant disregard for HIPAA (actually, just assume that HIPAA doesn't exist in this universe), the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/N: Oh god. I promise that there will be a point when this isn't so sad all the time and that point is soon. But it also isn't today. I'm so sorry. 😬
Huge thanks as always to @paperweight91 who listened to me whine and read countless fuzzy screenshots, and gave great advice and was just all around awesome. And to @stargazingfangirl18 who reached out with encouragement when the words just weren't coming.
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!
As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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Ransom had the complete collection of Harlan’s books. You couldn’t say exactly why that surprised you, but it did. He even had the two poorly-received romance novels Harlan had written under a pseudonym. You hadn’t known the two of them were so close, but then again, you still didn’t really know anything about Ransom.
So that’s what you’d been doing with your days, making your way through Harlan’s complete works. You were currently reading one about an au pair that had been found dead in her charge’s locked nursery when your phone rang. 
Your brow furrowed. The list of people who ever contacted you had gotten much shorter since you’d moved to Boston. Steve, Ransom, Linda unfortunately. That was pretty much it. You looked down at your phone to see your mother’s name. Oh.
You’d expected her to reach out in some way since your wedding and had tried very hard not to feel hurt when she hadn’t. Everyone’s lives had moved on. You were the only one stuck. But you still hadn’t had it in you to be the one who called her. You took a deep breath and answered your phone.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Honey! How are you?”
You kept in your sigh. “I’m fine. How are you?”
“Good, good,” she said, but she sounded sad. She always sounded so fucking sad. It struck you then, that that’s probably how you’d sound too, in ten or twenty years. Maybe less. Probably a lot less. “It’s so nice to hear your voice honey.”
“Yeah,” you said, and, pathetically, you could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes. You weren’t angry with her. You couldn’t be. It wasn’t her fault she was so broken. It was inevitable. For all of you. And your frustration with her didn’t change how much you missed her. Missed home. Missed the way things used to be. “It’s good to hear you too.”
“I know it’s been a while,” she said softly, “but I wanted to give you a chance to get settled. How are things going?”
“They’re going fine,” you said quietly. You paused. You didn’t want to say anything bad or worry anyone, but also it was your mom. “I don’t know. It’s different here. I don’t have anything to do.” 
She just chuckled. “Cherish that. It’ll change soon and then you’ll miss this time.” You didn’t know what to say to that so you didn’t say anything. After a few moments of silence, she continued. “And how’s Ransom?”
You stifled a groan. You didn’t want to talk about him. Things had been… better since your panic attack. He came home at a decent hour regularly. You fucked most nights now. But he was still just this looming presence. You didn’t know what to do with him. “He’s fine,” you said with a shrug.
That was apparently the wrong answer, judging by the little hum she made. “I know it’s hard at the beginning. When I first married your father–” she cut herself off with a deep breath. “Remember, honey, keeping him happy is your one job now. It’ll get easier the longer you do it.”
A few tears finally broke free and fell down your cheeks. “I don’t– I don’t know him. I don’t know what makes him happy.”
“Then finding out will be a good use of your free time, won’t it?” You glanced at the book beside you, feeling shamed in spite of yourself. “I know it feels so hard, but men are shockingly easy. They just want to be taken care of. That’s all you have to do. Make him dinner. Keep his home warm. Give him heirs. Don’t argue. That’s all. You’re going to be such a good wife to him, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”
You shrunk down into the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees, making yourself as small as possible. You hated this. Hated that she didn’t want more for you. That she’d never tried to give you more. But you were tired, too, of being upset with her for not doing the impossible. What else was she supposed to have done? What else could she give you when she didn’t have anything herself? “Ok,” you whispered. It was all you could manage.
“Joseph says hello, of course,” she said, and you wanted to laugh. He’d done no such thing. “He’s so proud that you’ve made such a good match. He’ll be happy to hear it’s going well.”
“Mmm,” was all you were able to say. You hated this. You couldn’t do it anymore. “It’s so good to hear from you, mom. But uh, I have to– I have to go.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Well, alright. I miss you so much, sweetheart. We’ll talk again soon. I love you.”
You could barely hold the tears back now. “I love you too,” you said, your voice thick. “Bye.” The moment you hung up the phone, the damn broke. You couldn’t stop it. You cried for your mom. You cried for yourself. You cried for the way everything had changed and there was no going back. You cried because this was a day when it felt like no one on earth was on your side. A shaking Lola forced her way into your lap and you held her until you were able to calm down.
Once you’d stopped crying, you looked around. You couldn’t sit still, your mother’s words ringing in your ears. Your eyes locked on the kitchen. That was something you could do. You glanced at the time. If Ransom came home at his new regular time, it would be tight, but you could do it if you made something simple. But not too simple. Something that showed effort. That you were trying. 
You got up and looked in the fridge. All those tidy little glass containers full of meals his housekeeper, Carol, made. You’d never felt like they were taunting you before, but now. Now you wanted to smash them. You could do this. You could make him like you. Show him what you were worth. You could make yourself a life better than your mother’s, maybe. Get him on your side.
There weren’t a ton of raw ingredients, but after combing through the entire contents of the fridge and pantry, you found what you’d need for a decent spaghetti. Carol was probably planning it for later in the week. Well, now she wouldn’t have to. You’d do it yourself.
You put some music on and got to work. Losing yourself in the prep. But you’d lost yourself too much maybe, because you were still chopping when Ransom walked in the door. 
Lola, of course, rushed to greet him. It still rankled. She didn’t realize that one wrong move would have him kicking her out. His words from that first dinner had never left your mind. But a few days ago, he’d started reaching down to pet her as she danced around him. You didn’t know what either of them were playing at.
He looked at you, now trying to hurry through the rest of your prep, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m making dinner,” you said, gesturing to all your work obviously. You looked at the time. You weren’t slow. He was early. Why the fuck was he early? He was ruining all your plans.
“Why?” he asked as he took off his coat, then shoes. “Carol’s put plenty of meals in the fridge.”
“Because I wanted to!” You said, your knife coming down on the onion under your hand too hard.
The knife hitting the cutting board caught his attention. He looked at what you were doing. “I don’t like onions.”
You threw down the knife more carelessly than you should have. It slid across the cutting board before coming to a stop at the edge of the counter. “Then why were they in the pantry?!”
“How should I know?!” he shouted back, matching your tone. But then he looked at you and stopped. “Have you been crying? What happened?”
You froze. Shit. You hadn’t even thought to check what you looked like. You swiped at your face and turned away. “It’s the onions. Obviously.”
“Your face– that looks like more than onions.” He now stood at the edge of the kitchen, only the island between you.
“I’m fine!” you snapped, then forced yourself to take a breath. “My mom called,” you conceded. “It’s fine.”
“Oh,” was all he said for a moment and then, “You and your parents are close then?”
You couldn’t explain why the question irritated you so much. Maybe it was the assumption of homesickness. Or referring to Joseph as your parent. Or just him being here earlier than he was supposed to be, asking you anything. You couldn’t keep the shortness out of your voice when you responded, “My mom. Sometimes.” 
You looked around at your progress, the mess you’d made, the onions he didn’t want. So much for keeping him happy. What a stupid idea. You felt done. Over everything. You began cleaning up all the food, scooping it into the garbage.
“What are you doing?”
“I changed my mind! You don’t want any of this anyway. Have one of Carol’s fucking dinners.”
“The fuck is going on with you?!” he shouted as he watched you clean up the kitchen.
“I changed my mind,” you repeated, throwing the cutting board into the sink. “I’m not hungry. I’m going upstairs.” You stomped over to the staircase.
“You’re not going to eat anything?” he called after you.
“No! I’m fine!” You shouted as you took the first few stairs.
“Yeah, you sure seem fucking fine,” he grumbled as he headed to the fridge. 
You stopped and glared at him. “Wake me if I’m asleep when you come up. I’m ovulating, so. Tonight’s important.”
He let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah,” he said, flatly. “I got your text.” That was news to you. He'd never responded to it. As you turned to continue up the stairs, you heard him add under his breath, “Although I’m not sure why you feel like you need to be awake for it.”
You stopped and turned around, coming back down a step. “What was that?!”
He turned to you, one of Carol’s glass containers in his hand, and sighed. “Nothing. I’ve had a long day.” You just stared at each other and then he added, “Aren’t you tired of it being such a chore?”
Something crumpled in you at that, but you didn’t want to stop and look at what it was. “Well,” you said. “The sooner I’m pregnant, the sooner it won’t be.” Then you turned and stomped the rest of the way upstairs. 
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When he woke you later that night, he was already ready to go. You didn’t even take off your pajamas, just slid your shorts down to your calves. He was right. It was a chore.
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It was a few days later when he texted you in the middle of the day. You were hiding in the bedroom while Carol cleaned downstairs. She was still mad that you’d wasted the spaghetti ingredients. You were reading in bed with Lola when your phone buzzed beside you.
Big family thing at Harlan’s on Saturday. We’ll be expected.
For some reason, it was the ‘we’ that caught you. It was the first time you’d realized you were a package deal now. If Ransom was invited somewhere, you would accompany him. And vice versa if you were ever invited anywhere. You couldn’t imagine it, with how small your world had gotten. 
The rest of his message caught up with you. His family. Linda had reached out multiple times since her awful visit. Every time you spoke to her, you got so small. You worried that prolonged exposure to her might cause you to completely disappear.
Aside from his parents, you’d barely interacted with the rest of his family at the wedding. It would be fine. You would be fine. You’d have to be. They were your family now too. You’d be seeing so much of them. For the rest of your life. You ignored how much your chest tightened at that thought.
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Saturday came too soon.
Ransom paced around the bedroom while you both got ready. You’d never seen him like this before. He wasn’t dressed. He just kept walking in and out of his closet. And looking at you. You didn’t know if you were doing something wrong. He didn’t say anything, he just couldn’t keep still. The one time you’d asked if he was alright, he’d barked back at you that he was fine, so you hadn’t asked again. 
Watching him pace around was making you even more anxious than you already were. So you focused all you could on getting yourself ready. You’d asked Ransom earlier if his family dressed for dinner and he’d just grunted in response. But it felt like a no, so you wore one of your favorite day dresses. It was your favorite color. You hoped it would give you confidence. You did your hair. You put diamond studs in your ears, with a matching tennis bracelet on your wrist. Reasonable heels on your feet. A spritz of perfume on your pulse points. It was the best you could do without more information.
You stood in the middle of the bedroom once you were done. Ransom was still undressed, still moving. “Uh,” you ventured, hesitantly, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. “Will we have enough time to get there?”
“Who gives a shit?” he growled, thundering back into his closet. A few moments later he came back out, wearing dress slacks and a cream cable-knit sweater. There were holes in it. You could see them clearly from the other side of the room. 
“Ransom,” you said softly, oddly feeling like you were speaking to a spooked animal, “don’t you think that sweater’s a little worn?”
“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he rasped. “Let’s go.” Then he was out of the room and halfway down the stairs, with you scrambling to keep up behind him. 
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The drive to Harlan’s country estate was mostly silent. You’d tried to turn on the radio at one point, but Ransom just turned it right back off. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his hands were bright red. You wondered if he was hurting himself. You didn’t know why he was so stressed. You were the one about to walk into the lion’s den, the one who had no idea what was waiting for you. It was his family. He’d be fine. You had no idea if you would be. You rested your hands in your lap, clutching them, and settled into the silence.
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You knew that Harlan lived quite a ways out of town, but you still got to his home much too quickly. The large mansion loomed over you as Ransom parked his car amongst the others in the drive. He turned off the ignition and then just sat there, staring ahead. Just as you were about to call his name, he slapped the steering wheel harshly with one hand then growled “Let’s go!” to you and got out of the car. Once again, you scrambled after him, but this time, he slowed, slightly, to let you catch up. Once you had, he put a firm hand on the small of your back and ushered you up the path and into the house. You didn’t have time to react to that or try to figure out what on earth he was doing before you were greeted by a woman Ransom snidely called Franny. She responded with a very curt “Hugh” of her own then introduced herself to you as the housekeeper. She took your coats, and then Ransom’s hand was back on you, guiding you into a sitting room.
The entire family was already there, most with drinks in hand, and they all turned to watch you enter. You felt pinned by their gazes. “Well!” Ransom’s uncle Walt called out. “Look who finally decided to show. And just in time for the food, of course!” 
Ransom stiffened slightly beside you then smirked. “Well, thank god we’re in time for your fifth drink, Walt. Who’d want to miss that?”
Walt scowled as he got up from his seat, then lumbered across the room, knocking his shoulder into Ransom’s as he passed and jostling you in the process. You started to sway a little, and Ransom’s hand immediately came to your hip to try to steady you. Your gaze flitted down to it, but just as quickly it was gone.
Everyone else began to get up and make their way out of the room. Meg, at least, gave you a small smile and wave, but otherwise, you were mostly ignored. That was, at least, until there were only three people left, Ransom’s parents and Harlan. 
Harlan immediately hugged you. “It’s wonderful to see you, my dear. You look so lovely.” He took a step back to look at you both. “I trust you’re taking good care of each other. This is one of the most important times in your marriage. I hope you’re cherishing it.” 
“Sure Grandad,” Ransom snarked, “we’re loving being married to a complete stranger.”
“Ah, now, you’ll only remain strangers if you let that happen.”
You saw Ransom about to open his mouth to say something else, so you jumped in with a quiet, “Thank you, Harlan, we really appreciate that.”
Harlan smiled at you, big and genuine, and then clapped Ransom on the shoulder. “See, my boy,” he said. “I knew she was exactly what you needed!” 
Ransom’s jaw ticked but he didn’t say anything. You didn’t know how to respond either. Harlan’s kindness had a way of making you feel invisible. 
Linda stepped up to you all then. “Darling,” she said, her tone dripping friendliness in a way that made you brace for impact. “I see not even your positive influence can make my son be on time. How disappointing.” She added a little chuckle onto the end, but you took it as the reprimand it was meant to be. You pasted on your most benign smile, but as always, she made you feel about a foot tall. You had no idea how anyone thought you were supposed to make this man do anything. Like he cared about what you thought or wanted. Like you had any power at all. 
“Is that why you married me off, mother?” Ransom asked, matching her friendly tone, but when you looked up at him, his eyes were hard. “So there’d be someone to handle me?”
“Well,” she said, a placid smile on her face to match your own, “someone has to. Lord knows you haven’t listened to me in years.”
“And yet,” Ransom said, his tone dropping all friendliness, “you still got me here, didn’t you?” 
The look on his face startled you. You’d never seen him this angry. Without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. At your touch, his eyes snapped to yours. You weren’t sure exactly what he found there, you felt lost enough that you couldn’t imagine your expression was much help, but after staring at you for what felt like an age, he gave you the smallest nod and relaxed his posture. 
“We don’t want dinner to get cold,” Harlan called from the doorway.
Linda straightened, finally ending the standoff with her son. “Yes, of course,” she said. Then she looked at you, really looked, her eyes traveling up and down your body, taking in all of you and everything you were wearing. She quirked her eyebrow at you and let out a distinctly judgemental little hum. Then that friendly smile was back and she turned away from you. “Oh, Dad, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” she said as they both left the room.
You stared after her. You didn’t know what you’d done wrong. You’d looked at everyone when you’d arrived and confirmed that you weren’t under or overdressed. She herself was wearing a simple but smart pantsuit. Your clothes were nice, clean, and pressed. You were put together. What could her problem possibly be? You tried to breathe but you could still feel her looking at you and your chest was so tight.
You were brought back to the present by Richard wrapping you in a hug. His lips brushed your cheek as he said, “So nice to see you again, honey.” Then one of his hands on your back traveled lower until it grazed the top of your ass. You couldn’t help the way you jumped.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Dad?” Ransom shouted next to you. “I’m standing right here!”
Richard pulled away and you took a deep breath at being free of him. What the hell had just happened?
“What?” Richard rounded on his son. “I can’t greet my daughter-in-law? You’re so sensitive, Ransom. A little attention is flattering, isn’t it, honey?” 
They were both staring at you. You knew you needed to say something but all you could do in your shock was gape at them. 
Ransom wrapped one arm around your waist to pull you close to him. “You’re a fucking creep,” he growled.
Richard just scowled and made his way to the hall. “Disrepectful little shit,” he muttered as he left the room.
It wasn’t until his father was completely gone that Ransom dropped his arm from around you. He looked you right in the eye, his face so serious, as he asked, “Are you ok?” And there was something in his tone, fear maybe, that startled you just as much as Richard’s hand.
“I’m fine,” you nodded, your voice shaking only the slightest bit. When he still didn’t release you from his gaze, you brushed your fingers over his arm. “I’m alright.”
Finally, he nodded but didn’t really relax. “He’s–” he began, but cut himself off. “Just, watch out for him.”
“Ok,” you said, trying to sound strong. Reassuring. Ransom still just stood there. “Are– are you alright?” 
That seemed to bring him out of wherever he’d been. “What?” he asked, somewhat sharply. “Yeah, of course. Come on,” he said, turning to the doorway. “Let’s get this shitshow over with.”
Everyone else was already seated at the large dining room table when you came in. Ransom guided you over to the two empty chairs in the middle of one side and pulled yours out for you before seating himself. The catering staff moved around the table setting down plates and pouring wine for everyone. But when the server got to you, they moved past you without pouring anything. In case you were pregnant. Of course. That was fine. You just hoped no one else noticed.
“I’m sorry,” Ransom said from beside you and your stomach dropped. “Is there a reason my wife isn’t being served wine tonight?” 
“Ransom,” you whispered, still hoping everyone would just ignore it, but it was too late.
From the other side of the table, Walt piped up liked he’d just been waiting for an opportunity. “Maybe the staff got confused and didn’t realize she’s old enough to drink.” His eyes sparkled and he grinned, proud of himself, as it took every muscle in your body not to shrink down in your seat. 
“Great catch, Walt! You’re right. She is still much younger than me. Like I said before, and I’m sure I’ll have to say again, neither of us chose this. I would’ve thought that’d be a concept you’re familiar with, seeing as how you practically begged Harlan not to make you marry Donna.”
“Ransom!” you admonished quietly. Your eyes cut to the willowy blonde sitting next to Walt, looking like a deer caught in headlights. You had no doubt that he deserved this, but you had no idea if she did. 
Ransom’s eyes cut to you. “You’re right,” he said, before looking back at his aunt and uncle. “I should be nicer to Donna. I’m sure being married to Walt is punishment enough.”
“You little shit!” Walt responded. “I’ll have you know my wife is very happy. Which I’m sure is more than you can say for yours! What’s it been, a month? Two? And she already looks completely miserable.” 
You felt all eyes turn to you again and you weren’t sure you’d ever felt more self-conscious in your life. Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t say anything, so you picked up your fork and took a bite of the fish you’d just been served. It didn’t taste like anything.
From your left, Joanie spoke up. “Hey, those first few months of marriage are hard. But so rewarding. I know when Neal and I were first married–”
“Yes, Joanie,” Linda cut in, dryly. “My brother was a saint and we all miss him very much.” She turned back to her son. “There’s no need to get upset, Ransom. We just didn’t want to accidentally serve a pregnant woman alcohol. Better safe than sorry.” She picked up her own fork to begin eating. “Speaking of, if the two of you have an announcement to make, now’d be the perfect time.”
You couldn’t stop your grimace. Ransom stiffened next to you, then answered, “No. No announcement.”
“It’ll come,” Harlan finally joined in from his place at the head of the table. “There’s still plenty of time.”
From the other end of the table, a teenage boy you’d never even met before said, “Maybe not. Maybe she’s barren.” And you felt all the wind go out of you.
“Oh fuck off, you little incel shit!” Ransom shouted.
“She isn’t barren, Jacob,” Linda said, calmly. “We have all her medical records to confirm she’s perfectly fertile.”
You could’ve sworn you blacked out at the moment. You’d known, on some level, that if there was a clause in the contract, it’d come with some sort of confirmation that, at least on your side, it was even possible. But to know that they had your medical records and now were discussing them like you weren’t even here, like you just didn’t matter… You hoped the earth might open up and swallow you whole.
You felt a gentle hand land on your knee but it didn’t really register. Nothing did. You didn’t know where the conversation went from there. You couldn’t hear anything above the ringing in your ears. It was all you could do to keep breathing. But you knew they all kept sniping at each other. And you felt the anger radiating off of Ransom the entire time. 
The clinking of plates and scraping of chairs finally got you out of your stupor as the family got out of their chairs and staff started clearing the dishes. You looked over at Ransom, for help or support maybe, you didn’t really know. But he also looked like he’d gone somewhere else. He could barely meet your gaze.
You were still numb as people made their way back to the original sitting room. You just needed to make it through the rest of the evening. You could do that. Just as you had gotten to the other room, Harlan stopped Ransom with a hand on his shoulder. “I’d like a word in private with you, my boy.”
Ransom looked at you for a moment, then sighed and said softly, “I’ll be right back,” before following his grandfather deeper into the house.
And then you were alone. You were at a loss as to what to do with yourself, so you went back into the sitting room and settled on a vacant couch. Not everyone had migrated there.  There were only a few people in the room now. Jacob sat in the corner, hunched over his phone, but every once in a while he would look up, catch your eye, and smirk at you. It had you sliding further back in your seat. His mother was no help. Donna was slumped over in an armchair, still cradling half a glass of wine. Meg had already shrugged on her coat, giving a hurried wave as she moved through the room. And Richard–
Richard sat down next to you. You slid down the couch as subtly as you could. “You know,” he said, “I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you at the wedding.”
Alarm bells went off through your whole body. You saw Ransom’s face again, from earlier. How angry, yes, but more than that ashamed and unsurprised. How he’d looked at you. How he’d asked if you were ok. How it’d felt urgent. “It was a busy day,” you gritted out, trying to think of any way to get yourself out of this room.
“Ransom is a very lucky man,” he said, inching closer, his arm draped over the back of the couch, “to have such a beautiful bride.”
“Thank you,” you chuckled uncomfortably. “That’s very sweet.” You looked around helplessly. As he opened his mouth to say something else, you stood up. “I’m going to go get myself some water. Do you need anything?” you asked, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “No? Ok, I’ll be right back.” And then you fled.
You hurried down the hall toward the kitchen but slowed when you heard voices. You picked out Joanie first, then Linda. You slowed to a stop right outside the kitchen door, trying to weigh just how much you wanted that water. Was it worth facing them? Were they any better than Richard?
“Okay,” Joanie said, “but what do you really think about her?” Your stomach dropped. You tried to reassure yourself that they could be talking about anything, anyone. You pressed closer to the door as quietly as you could.
“I think,” Linda said, then paused while you heard the clink of glassware, “that she will serve her purpose just fine.”
Joanie laughed. “I just have a hard time picturing Ransom with such a mouse.” You closed your eyes. You should go right now. Nothing they had to say would be of any help to you. But, despite your best interests, you were rooted to the spot.
“She definitely wasn’t chosen for her personality, but Ransom understands how good this will be for the whole family. How important it is”
“Oh, of course,” Joanie simpered, and you just hated both of these women so much at that moment, maybe more than you’d ever hated anyone. “I just feel so bad for him. He must be so bored.”
“Listen, I told him that he just needs to get her pregnant, and then he can do whatever he needs to do. Once he has an heir. As long as he’s discreet, of course.”  
Joanie cackled. “You didn’t! Oh, you’re so bad!”
“He might already be behind on that one, anyway,” Linda said, and you could practically hear her smirk. But you didn’t know what she could possibly be talking about. She didn’t know you and there was no one– unless. Oh god.
“Well.” Linda continued. “You know, she and her step-brother are very close, if you know what I mean.”
“Really?” Joanie asked, fucking eagerly.
“Mhmm,” Linda hummed. “Did you not see them at the wedding? They were practically hanging all over each other. He had to be kicked out of her dressing room.”
“No! Does Ransom know?”
“Well, I haven’t told him yet. You know how he gets. I’m waiting for the right time.”
“You know what they call that on the internet, don’t you?”
Linda sighed. “You know that I don’t, Joanie.”
“Stepcest!” Joanie said gleefully.
And that was it. That was all you could do. This fucking family. How– Why? You’d never done anything. You hadn’t even chosen to be here! And they still took so much joy in cutting you down. And if Linda managed to get to Ransom and tell him… Who knows what he’d do?
You moved as quietly as you could back down the hall, swiping at the tears beginning to gather in your eyes, hoping not to call any attention to yourself, when shouts suddenly erupted from the other side of the house. As soon as you recognized one of the raised voices as Ransom’s, you began to hurry in that direction. 
You hadn’t made it very far before he came barreling out in your direction. “Get your coat,” he growled. “We’re leaving.”
You didn’t argue, more than ready to get out of there yourself. You followed him to the closet, and then once you both had your coats, out the door. The crisp night air was bracing after feeling suffocated in that house for hours. Neither of you said anything as you got into Ransom’s car.
It wasn’t until you were fully off Harlan’s property that you felt brave enough to ask, “Is everything alright?”
He glanced at you before returning his eyes to the road and letting out a humorless chuckle. “Sure,” he said.
“What– What did he want to talk to you about?”
“Just his same old bullshit,” he scoffed.
“I–” you had no idea what to say. “Is it always like that?” You felt foolish as soon as you asked. Of course, it was. You could tell.
“Oh, no,” he said, and his tone was so cold, so detached, that you couldn’t help but stare. This felt like a brand new Ransom. “Sometimes it’s really bad.”
You didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea what to do with this sudden urge to comfort him, this man who had so much power over you, this man you couldn’t even say you liked most days. Especially after what you’d just been through. So you kept your hands in your lap and stared out the window.
After a few minutes of silence, he surprised you by being the one to break it. “So. I bet your family looks like the fucking Waltons compared to that.”
You thought of dinner with your own family. Joseph crowing loudly about his successes. Your mother cowering the moment any small thing went wrong. Steve getting into screaming matches with his father. You feeling invisible, on a good day. “No,” you said, hollowly. “Not really.” He turned his head sharply to look at you and you held his gaze for just a moment before he had to look back at the road. There was one large difference though. You’d always had Steve. As far as you could tell, Ransom didn’t have anyone.
That thought led you back to what you’d heard right before you’d left and your anxiety returned. “Steve and I–” you blurted out. “He’s my brother.”
Ransom’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Uh, yeah, I am aware of that.”
You shook your head. “No, I just– I know we aren’t related biologically, but– Nothing’s ever happened between us. Not ever. He’s my brother.”
“What the fuck?!” he called out as he made a left turn more sharply than necessary. “Why would you–” he cut himself off. “Did someone say something to you?”
You ignored his question. “I just–” you said, “I just wanted you to hear it from me.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. Neither of you said anything else for the rest of the drive.
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When you got back to his house, Ransom went straight upstairs while you let Lola out one last time before bed. When you joined him in the bedroom once that was done, he was already in bed. “Listen,” he said softly, “I know you’re probably even more anxious about this whole thing after– I just, I’m really fucking tired. Is it ok if we don’t– If we just go to bed?”
You nodded, relief flooding through you. You were just as tired and didn’t think you could deal with all that after everything else that had happened that day. You quickly went through your nighttime routine in the bathroom. When you came back out once you’d finished, you found Ransom still awake, lying on his back staring at the ceiling. Lola was curled up at his side and he absently scratched her belly. You climbed into bed and turned the lamp off, turning onto your side. You felt him move behind you, scooting closer, not enough that you were touching at all, but you could feel his body heat. It was oddly soothing. You closed your eyes and hoped sleep would come fast, ready for this day to be over.
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silentglassbreak · 2 months
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hi bestie is it too late to request? you said you liked writing angst, well, i love reading it 💔💔painfully unrequited love!!!!! gimme gimme
friends with benefits with (overly affectionate!!!!) Noah and reader who falls sick to her stomach head over heels in love with him. blurring the lines between sex and love.
going to a bad omens concert however long after and it’s like they’re strangers oOF rip my heart out and stomp on it idc. been listening to Novocaine on a loop all day. i’m not okay
feel to totally disregard if you’re not feeling it angel <33 thank you bby I love your writing 🥺🥺
Angst............. UGH I've been WAITING babes. My goal is to rip your heart out...fair fucking warning. MMMLOVEYOUUUUU. After Writing Notes: I'm the actual worst. I hope you don't hate it!
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: smut, heartbreak, lots and lots of angst
Can You Feel My Heart
Love languages are such a strange concept, aren't they? That seems to be a fairly new idea that someone came up with in the last decade or so?
If you like to buy love...your love language is gifting.
If you can't communicate well...your love language is affection.
If the only way you know how to show feelings is with sex...your love language is intimacy.
At what point are we allowed to call someone out for being a dick? At what point are we allowed to confront the fact that someone is skipping around the idea of commitment, and ask them to just admit what they really want?
This wasn't the first time these thoughts had danced around my head, in the wee hours of the morning, while Noah's arm laid heavy across my waist, him snoozing behind me.
Noah and I had been friends since we were seven years old. We met on the playground at the park in the center of the neighborhood of our small town in West Virginia. He told me he liked my butterfly hair clips, and I let him have the blue one. He wore it in his hair every day for three weeks.
He grew up in a broken home, only his Mom around most of his years, and even then - that relationship was...strained. So many nights he had snuck into my bedroom window, curling up next to me, tears free falling down his cheeks. We never talked about why, but it didn't take a psychic to figure it out.
He moved in with his Grandmother when he was fourteen, and even though he lived in the next town over, he still made it a point to take the city bus to me every day after school, even when he dropped out.
We were never more than twin flames, incapable of existing without each other, moral support for the other during any type of hardship. Looking back, I guess that was what built our serious dependence issues.
"I can't live without you, Y/N. I'll die if I ever lose you."
"No you won't Noah, don't be stupid."
He was stupid. As stupid as they come, because when I turned eighteen, and started college, he had paid one of his friends to drive him all the way up to Columbus to see me. He showed up at the door of my dorm, drunk and broken, blathering on about how only having been away from me for a week had killed him, and he needed to see me.
That was the first night he kissed me, and I let him.
As most people do when having grown up with someone so closely, I had developed an attachment to Noah very early on. I first recognized it when he turned twelve, and started skateboarding. He would insist on trying to teach me how, despite my undeniable clumsiness. His hands would grip my hips, his face so close to my ear, and his chest pressed to my back. He would talk in this deep voice, his puberty hitting early. I was awe-struck.
He was my best friend, sure. But he belonged to me, that's what he always said.
Even when he had girlfriends, I always came first. Dates would get cancelled for me; plans changed. Hell, he even blew off one girl whose birthday fell on the same day as mine. I was his priority. I was his person.
So when he leaned in to me, sitting on the edge of my mattress in the dorm, liquor stained-breath against my face, I just closed my eyes and let it happen.
He spent the night with me, and had to leave early. Vowing to come back, he never broke his word.
There he was the following weekend, sober this time, with snacks, DVDs, and a week’s worth of clothes. I managed to hide him in my room for four days before the dorm advisor caught him.
The second day he was there was the first time we had sex. I was a virgin, and he was not. That hurt me, sure. Not enough to deny him what was rightfully his. I belonged to Noah, body and soul. He took his time, walked me through it, and gave me the best possible experience I could expect. It hurt, and it was weird, but a sense of relief washed over me.
We had finally crossed that threshold. We had sex three times that week, until he was forced to leave.
That's when the words left his mouth.
"We need to talk."
That conversation broke something inside of me. He loved me, but he didn't love me. He was honored to have been allowed to give me something so meaningful, but he could never see me as more than his best friend. Our friendship was too important, and he wouldn't even allow himself to entertain the idea of jeopardizing that. He had made up his mind, and he couldn't have feelings for me.
It was with the heaviest heart imaginable, I sucked back my tears, painted an easy smile on my face, and held his hands in mine.
"I totally understand, Noah. No worries! We can just have fun, you know?"
And that was it. We were stuck in this sick, frozen place for the last two years. I was about to finish my Associates in Columbus, and hoped to become pre-med at Boston U, but Noah didn't know that yet. I could never figure out how to tell him.
Noah Davis was this heavy, bright flame that I was desperately afraid to extinguish. He had formed a band right after our arrangement began, and he was twenty-four hours away from leaving on their first major tour that would take him around the entire country, and then across the Atlantic to Europe.
How could I tell him that while he was gone, I was likely moving even further, and starting my life without him?
I didn't want to live without him, but he was leaving, and I couldn't sit and wait forever...
I breathed out a sigh, the light beginning to stream in the window of my one-bedroom apartment. He needed to wake up, drive home, and make sure he was ready to leave tomorrow. It was only 6AM, so I knew he'd be cranky, but I couldn't put this off any longer.
“Noah?” I breathed out his name. He groaned in response. “You’ve got to get up. You have to get ready to head home.”
"Mm, ten more minutes." I rolled my eyes, and began sliding out from underneath him.
His arm locked, and held me in place. I giggled, and saw as he turned his face, one eye cracking open. "Don't get up. It's too early."
I narrowed my eyes. "I have class at 8AM."
Noah used his strength against me, pulling my body to him and holding me tight so I couldn't get up. This only made me laugh louder.
"You don't need to get up for another hour."
"Not if I want to shower."
He sighed into the pillow. "So crazy, cause I don't think you do."
I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you've got to get home. Nick will kill us both if you're not ready in time."
"I'm not scared of her." He smirked, and I smacked his arm.
"Shut up. And get off me!"
He stuck his bottom lip out, pouting heavily.
"Not going to work. C'mon." I wriggled hard enough to break his grip, and sat up, stretching my arms over my head. He sat up as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
I pulled a robe over myself, turning to look at him as he scrolled through his phone, checking messages.
"Coffee?" I asked, and he threw a thumbs up at me.
I left the room, headed for the kitchen, trying to keep my breathing even. I had very little time left.
Filling the pot with water, I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, his face burying in my neck.
"I don't want to go. I'm going to miss you so much."
I leaned into the touch, taking anything I could at this point. "I know. I'll miss you more."
He scoffed. "Not a chance."
Holding me for a few more moments, he let go to head to the fridge, pulling out the bagels and cream cheese, and plopping down at the dining table. I continued my work of preparing our coffee.
"Hey, uh," I started, keeping my voice as calm as I could. "there's something I wanted to chat with you about."
I turned around, two hot mugs in my hand. He was spreading the cream on a bagel, already having prepared one for me. I sat next to him at the table.
"What's up?" He didn't look up at me.
"I told you I had been trying to decide where to start medical school?" He just nodded in response. "Well, I find out today if I got into Boston."
He halted, his eyes snapping up to me. "Boston?"
I took a sip of coffee. "They've got the best med program on the East coast-"
He cut me off. "Since when were you looking on the East coast?"
His tone was darkening. This was going to go about as well as I expected.
"Since I realized I had a chance. Noah, my GPA and scholar program gives me a real shot."
He grit his teeth, setting his bagel down. "Boston is far, Y/N."
I kept calm, setting my mug down as well. "I know."
"So, why would you want to be so far away?"
"Well, you're going far too, Noah. Your first show is in San Diego."
He sat back in his chair. "Yeah, but the last one puts me right back here in Columbus for a month before I go overseas."
I nodded. "I know. I'll still be here, then. You get back six weeks before the end of the semester."
He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't go to Boston."
There was a finality to his tone, and something about it made my insides flinch with irritation.
"Oh no? And if I do?"
"You can't."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Can't? And since when do you tell me what I can and can't do?"
He rolled his eyes, standing from the table and walking over to the trash, binning the half of his bagel he didn't eat. "We can't be that far away from each other."
Lifting my eyebrows, I stood as well, crossing my arms. "And why is that, Noah?"
He leaned back against the counter. "Y/N, you know why."
"What? So you have someone to fuck whenever you want? Whenever one of your little groupies isn't around?"
His eyes popped open, then. "What?"
"You heard me." My tone was deadly, matching my stare at him.
"You really think the only reason I want you close is because of the sex?" He seemed truly stunned.
"Well, why else would you want me around?" I threw my hands up, walking back down the hallway toward my bedroom. I could hear his footfall behind me. I just continued, stepping into the closet to get dressed.
"What is that supposed to mean? I always want you around."
Rolling my eyes, I clasped my bra on and popped my head out to look at him. "Noah, I'm convenient for you. Unless you have any other valid reasons to keep coming over, I don't know why else it matters."
His jaw dropped open. "That is not true."
Pulling my shirt on, I scoffed. "Please, dude. Spare me the act, okay?"
"What act?"
I pulled my jeans on, buttoning them before stepping out to face him again. "The 'you're my person, and I can't lose you' act." I quoted myself. Something about that pissed him off, because he crossed his own arms and stared me down.
"The fuck are you getting at, Y/N?"
I shook my head, brushing past him, and walked toward the bathroom.
"Noah," I turned to look directly at him. "we've been at this for years. It's kind of old, don't you think?"
His face softened slightly. "We had an agreement."
I nodded. "You're right, we did. Just sex, for the sake of our friendship. That's what you wanted."
"I thought that's what we wanted."
Waving a hand between us, I took a step toward him. "Oh no, Noah. That's what you wanted. Not me."
He was silent, then.
"I wanted more. I always have. I thought that had become clear over the years, but I fucking guess not." I could hear my voice raising a few octaves. "You didn't give me a choice. You came in, broke that boundary, and then put it right back up again. And I stayed, just so I wouldn't lose you."
I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes.
His voice came out small, then, his hands now buried in his pockets.
"What do you want from me, Y/N?"
I sighed, letting one tear escape. "I want you to love me."
He pulled his hands out, stepping toward me and taking one of mine. I let him.
"I do love you!"
I stared at him, my teeth ground together. "Do you? The way I love you?"
Noah was a lot of things. He was brilliant, funny, generous, dedicated. He had the most redeeming qualities of anyone I knew.
And sure, he could be stupid. But not that stupid.
He had known how I felt about him. Of course he did. That was why I kissed him every chance I got. Why I always let him in. Why I never dated anyone else. Why I stayed all this time.
But here? In this moment? He was the biggest idiot I knew, because he dropped my hand, his eyes falling with it, and took a step backward.
"I..." He huffed out a breath, looking back up at my tear-stained face. "I can't. I'm sorry."
I averted my eyes, then. I could feel myself breaking, crumbling right before him.
"You need to leave, Noah."
I could feel he wanted to pull back to me, like a moon in orbit of a planet. Gravity. But he didn't. He just stepped back toward the doorway.
"What does this mean?" I heard his voice, but wouldn't meet his eyes.
I sniffed hard, trying like hell to keep myself upright.
"It means you go on tour. Be who you are, Noah. And I'll be who I am. Without each other."
His body shifted, but I was stone, unmoving.
"I can't lose you." I heard him let out a light, sarcastic laugh. "I'll die."
I let myself laugh at that.
"No you won't, Noah. Don't be stupid."
7 Years Later
Residency is going to kill me. I may actually die in pursuit of this God awful career I've chosen. I was three years in to a five year program, intending to finish in General Practice, but until that time, I was just an idiotic twenty-seven year-old with no life, no sleep, and no clean fucking clothes to wear.
Every resident gets exactly forty-eight hours of paid time off every three months, and I had not taken mine in over a year. I finally had taken all of my hours - six days total - off of work, and after spending the entire first day sleeping, I was due to meet with Raylene in an hour.
Ray and I met at the beginning of residency, and quickly gotten close. We managed to find an affordable apartment together within walking distance of the hospital, and spent any rare free time we had together. She was currently at her boyfriend's place, spending some much needed time with him, before we went out for the evening.
I was digging through my unfolded laundry, trying to find something not too wrinkled or stained to wear tonight. Ray had told me we were going to a concert for a band she had recently discovered, but she didn't tell me who it was. I didn't care, to be honest. Existing somewhere other than the Emergency Room or my own bed sounded heavenly.
Finally settling on a deep red cropped t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and the Vans I rarely got to wear, I straightened my hair and applied what little makeup I could. I set out of the building to the waiting vehicle downstairs, Ray practically hanging from the passenger window.
"You look so fine!"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Sure. Like I might've slept in the last two weeks?"
She chortled back at me, leaning in her seat once I was in the car. I waved hello to her boyfriend Sean, and gazed at Ray.
"So, Tyler isn't coming."
She frowned at me. "Why not?"
I shrugged. "Said he had a case he was working on, and he really couldn't spare the time."
She rolled her eyes. "Typical lawyer. Too busy for anyone but his clients."
Tyler and I had been dating for about six months now. Maintaining a relationship while having jobs as busy as ours was difficult, but he somehow managed to work it out. He would pop in when he knew I had breaks to bring me food, or have me spend nights off at his place, massaging my neck and helping me get caught up on my favorite series. He was an honest man. A good man.
I liked him.
Right?
It's so hard to tell what's like and what's convenient when you live your life exhausted and overworked, so I didn't have a lot of time to question it.
"Bummer for him. I'm so excited to see this show!" Ray was beaming in the front seat.
"Yeah, who are we seeing, anyway?"
"A band called ERRA. They're opening for a bigger headliner, who I've heard are pretty good too."
I nodded. "I've never heard them."
"It's rock. Metal, really." Sean chimed in, and I acknowledged him silently, looking out of the window.
My mind zoned out while we drove to the House of Blues. Ray and Sean chatted idly up front, but I was just enjoying the fact that I was finally out of the house for once.
That is, until we walked into the venue. The banner poster stared at me, the photographs of the band mocking me...
Bad Omens...they were the headliner.
Memories flooded back to my brain, my insides clenching at the visions.
I hadn't spoken to him since that day...that last day in my apartment. When he left, and never looked back. I didn't even keep in touch with the rest of the guys, for fear that I would be sucked back into the maelstrom that was Noah Davis...
“Y/N?” I turned to see Ray stood behind me, noticing my reaction. “You okay?”
My mind wasn’t comprehending what I was seeing. There’s no way that was them? The last time I had heard of the band, they were one-of-four supporting bands on much larger headliners. Now, they were selling out tickets at their own tour? Seven years was a long time…but how had they gotten this popular?
I wondered this, as if I didn’t know how wildly talented those boys were. Aside from Noah, Nicky, Jolly, and Nick Folio were some of the most intelligent and creative minds I had known. They all brought something special to that band, but I would have never expected this.
Huh. Guess he could live without me after all?
Something bitter crept into the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down, staring at his photograph on the poster.
“Yeah,” I tore my eyes away for a second to look at Raylene. “sorry, I’m fine. Just didn’t realize Bad Omens was the headliner.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of them?”
I pulled my lips to the side. Did I want to tell her?
“Long time ago.”
I couldn’t get past how different he looked in the picture. Last time I saw Noah, his hair was halfway down his back, he was skinny, and he had the thinnest little mustache growing on his upper lip.
In these promo pictures, however, his hair was short, not even reaching his ears, he looked much more muscular, and he had no facial hair. He also had many more tattoos than I remembered. That wasn’t surprising. Noah was a tattoo addict from a very young age.
Jolly had let his hair grow and had the cutest goatee on his chin. Nicky looked almost exactly the same. And Nick, bless his heart, had grown into such a handsome guy. They all looked so grown, so serious and broody. It almost made me giggle, knowing how goofy these guys were in real life.
Noah looked the most stunningly different from the rest. Not only did his entire appearance change, but his eyes…something in them was just so much darker. That harsh flame I had once known was so dim. It almost hurt to see. Almost.
We were making our way out to the pit of the GA floor. I had decided to get myself a cocktail to take the edge off. I didn't plan to come face-to-face with him, and likely wouldn't even get the opportunity to get a good look at him period, but still...just knowing we were in the same room made my throat tighten. I washed it down with Vodka and cranberry juice, hoping the warmth of the liquor would unfreeze my nerves.
The first band, Invent Animate, was entertaining enough. Very interactive with the crowd and high-energy. I found it pleasant, but couldn't get myself to focus long enough to notice what they were singing about. I struggled to breathe, the set ending, and knowing I was one hour closer to seeing his face.
During the intermission, Ray excused herself to the restroom, and I stood with Sean, feeling dizzier as the moments passed.
"Hey, I think I'm going to step out for a second. Get some air."
He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You okay? Want me to come with?"
I shook my head. "Nah, don't want you to miss the band you guys came to see. I'll be back."
He nodded, patting me on the shoulder before I weaved in and out of the crowd. I discarded my plastic cup in a trash can before exiting out into the main lobby. I found a spot on the wall near the doors that was unoccupied, and leaned against it, letting my eyes close and my breathing even out.
When I opened my eyes, I searched the room, looking for nothing specific. I landed on the merch tables, and saw someone oddly familiar talking to the lead singer of the last band we had watched...
The liquid courage is what carried me in that direction, smiling to myself.
He stood with his hair pulled back, as usual, and was talking with his hands. Same as he always did.
"Nicky Ruffilo..." I said loud enough to hopefully catch his attention, my hands now grasping the edge of the table.
His head snapped over to look at me, his brows knit together curiously. I could tell he was putting it together.
"No fucking way..." His voice sounded the same as it always had. "Y/N?!"
My teeth flashed at him, and he circled the table to approach me, his arms pulling me into a tight hug.
"Jesus Christ, I didn't recognize you!" That was fair.
Since the last time I had seen any of the guys, I had bleached my hair a pale blonde, lost twenty-five pounds, and had grown two cup sizes. I was, for all intents and purposes, an entirely different person.
"Yeah, well I absolutely recognized you." I said as I gripped his shirt, squeezing him tight.
"How long has it been?" He asked, pulling back to look at me.
"Uh," I thought for a moment. "seven-ish years?"
Nick's eyes were in disbelief, an amazed leer on his face. "God damn, girl. I can't believe it."
I pointed to the banner above his head. "Headlining now, huh? That's amazing!"
He smiled, proudly. "Yeah, we've worked really hard. A lot's changed."
My eyes fell on Noah's face on the poster. "I can see that."
I could tell he was pondering, a question hanging on the edge of his tongue. It was the most obvious question, so I answered for him.
"He doesn't know I'm here."
He nodded, leaning an arm on the table comfortably. "Ah, okay. You didn't want him to?"
I snorted. "I didn't even know I'd be here. My friends came to see ERRA, and that's when I realized you guys were here."
"Makes sense." He had crossed his arms. "Do you want him to know?"
Contemplating this, I let my face fall to get away from his gaze. I wasn't certain how to answer that, but it seemed like the answer was clear regardless.
"No." I sighed hard. "It's probably for the best that he doesn't, right?"
I couldn't read Nick's face, if he was disappointed or relieved. He seemed to be pretty satisfied with my answer, but I could tell he had more he wished he could say.
"Fair enough." Was all he gave me, before letting out a breath. "So, you still live up here?"
I let my muscles relax for a second. "Yeah, doing a residency at Brigham right now."
"Residency? Does that mean you're a doctor?" He asked, clearly confused.
I cackled at this. "Yeah, full blown doctor. Got the little 'MD' after my name and everything."
He beamed at me. "That's so great! Congratulations!"
"Thank you, Nicky." It fell quiet between us once again, and I could hear ERRA's set beginning. "Well, I should probably-"
He spoke over me. "Yeah! Those guys put on a great show. Don't miss it!"
I gave him another hug, reveling in how warm he still felt.
Turning to walk away, I stopped, needing one last thing...
"Nick?"
His face turned back to me.
"How is he?"
I could see the sadness fall over his tan features, and I instantly regretted asking.
"He's..." He trailed off, taking in a large breath. "He's different, Y/N. I doubt you'd recognize him."
"How so?"
Something about my question almost seemed to annoy him. Odd?
"Like I said, a lot has changed. He's changed. He had to." He gestured to me. "Same way you did."
I accepted this, not wanting to press any further. "Thanks, Nick."
He pointed a finger at me. "Hey, we're going to be back here in the fall for a couple days. Don't be a stranger, okay?" I grinned at this. "I know Jolly and Folio would kill to see you."
I just nodded, turning and walking away. My eyes met with Ray's, who was standing, watching my interaction. How much had she seen? Did she hear anything?
"Hey, what are you doing? You're missing ERRA!"
Her brows were pulled up suspiciously. "Who was that?" She pointed after Nick, who had now disappeared from the merch table.
I shook my head. "Oh, that guy? He's the bassist in the headliner band."
This wasn't good enough for her, I could tell by the way she pursed her lips. "Uh-huh. And...you just decided to chat him up like old friends?"
I groaned. "Ugh, how long were you standing there?"
She put all her weight on one hip. "Long enough to see you two talking like you've known each other before. Care to explain?"
Raylene was so nosey. She came by it honestly, her father being a police detective. But still, why did this matter?
"It's not a big deal, Ray. I'll tell you later."
I pulled on her arm, trying to lead her back to the concert hall, but she stood firm, eyeing me. I sucked my teeth in frustration.
"Damn it, alright, come here."
She followed me to the doors leading outside, and we stepped into the cool air.
"Alright, look, I've known Nick since I was ten."
Her eyes jumped. "Oh? Back in West Virginia?"
I nodded. "Exactly. I had no idea their band was going to be here."
"Do you know anyone else in the band?"
I glanced around, feeling wildly uncomfortable by the conversation.
"I may know the entire band."
Her eyes exploded, nearly shooting out of her face cartoonistically.
"What?! The whole band?" I just nodded. "Jesus, Y/N. That's insane!"
I giggled. "I guess. It's just a coincidence."
She smiled at me. "Well that's awesome! Do you want to see the rest of them after? They're doing a free merch signing."
Panic filled my chest, and I put a hand out to grab her shoulder. "No, no. I don't, uh..." I tried to keep my voice solid. "I don't keep in touch with them anymore."
Her eyes narrowed. "Oh? Okay, if you're sure." Something in my voice must have made her feel my anxiety.
We turned, ready to make our way back inside.
"It is too bad. The lead singer's a real looker. I heard one of the girls in the crowd say his name was Noah Sebastian? He's pretty cute."
I almost walked straight into the door, my foot banging off of the pillar. Ray turned around to see me, and something about the look on my face made realization flash over her.
"Oh my God, are you ok-" She stopped dead, eyes widening again. "Wait..."
"Ray, don't." I knew what she had figured out.
"Noah..." I put my hands up, glancing around to ensure no one was looking at us. "As in...Noah? Your old best friend?!"
I shushed her harshly. "Please, Ray. I don't want to think about this."
"That's the guy?! Noah Sebastian is the guy that broke your heart?!"
I was going to actually vomit at that.
"Fuck! Can we not?!" I raised my voice, which made her snap her mouth closed. "Besides, I don't know a Noah Sebastian."
She looked confused. "Is that not his real name?"
I rolled my eyes, turning to walk back in. "It's his middle name."
I spaced out most of what was left of ERRA's set, just trying to put the pieces back together in my brain. This night had not turned into what I had hoped.
I just wanted one night, an easy night, to take a deep breath away from my hectic life. Instead, I was reliving some of my most painful memories, and had a headache to go right along with it from the alcohol. My chest vibrated, the bass just making it so much more difficult to focus.
I stood off of the GA floor, near the bar area, not even realizing the band had finished, and people were swarming to grab drinks and use the restrooms before the men of the evening appeared. Ray approached me, another Vodka cran in her hand, and pushed it into mine.
"Here my love, drink this." I took a long gulp of it. "Do you want us to go? We don't have to stay..."
My eyes were fixed on the stage, where I could see people setting up the equipment. "No." I huffed out a breath, and squeezed my cup. "No, I want to see them play, I think."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're sure? This can't be easy for you."
My eyes burned into her face, which almost made her flinch. "I may never get to see him again, Ray. I have to."
She just nodded, arm linking with mine. "You want to watch from up here?"
I nodded, crunching on a piece of ice from my drink. "No chance of him spotting me back here."
She affirmed my request, and leaned back against the wall with me.
I felt my phone vibrate, and I pulled it from my pocket to see Tyler's name on the screen.
Tyler: Hey beautiful! How's the show?
I held my breath. What kind of a question was that?
Me: Fine. Almost over, just one band left.
He didn't take but a minute to respond.
Tyler: Having fun?
Ha, what a joke.
Me: Yeah. I've had some drinks, so it's helping.
Tyler: Well, enjoy it baby! You deserve it.
That wasn't fair. None of it was. Having to see Noah? The fact that I had an amazing guy, who genuinely liked me, who waited for me. But I still couldn't get my mind off of that irritatingly beautiful face about to take the stage.
The lights went down, and I felt myself tense, throwing back the rest of my drink. My teeth were numb, if that made any sense at all. Ray's hand gripped mine tight, holding me up.
A cinematic scene played on the screens, but I wasn't watching, eyes hastily searching the stage.
A tall man, who I instantly recognized as Jolly, stepped center-stage, a guitar in his hand playing the opening riff to the song. It was heavy, deep and soul shaking.
Folio came out next, his face, like Jolly's, covered in a black ski mask.
Nick took his spot, playing his bass tones.
And then, as the opening crescendoed, a voice rang through the speakers.
A voice I'd never forget.
"Can you hear me through the white noise?"
He blasted onto the stage, glory and all, face covered and thick black jacket on his shoulders.
He sounded different. Angry. Raw, Aggressive. The feeling that sank in my stomach pulled me back further against the wall.
The song played through, his words pulsing through my veins.
As quick as it had started, it was over, and we were on to the next.
The next track was calmer, red lights glowing all throughout the stage.
They had all removed their masks, and I saw his face for the first time. He looked so much older, making it difficult for me to believe he was the same person.
The words of the song resonated deep in my thoughts.
"I don't want to know all your secrets, cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on..."
Breathing deeply, I watched as the crowd moved with the music, electrifying the energy in the room. It was intoxicating.
Noah had changed...
The set played on without hitch, the entire time I caught myself holding in breaths until I felt my lungs nearly bursting. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, feeling the familiar ache beginning to creep back in.
The music stopped, and a bunch of lights came up. By this time, Noah had discarded his jacket, button-up, and only stood in a black tank top, hands wrapped in what looked like boxing wraps?
"Alright, Boston, how we feeling?" His speaking voice even sounded different...
The crowd erupted.
"We are Bad Omens, and we sincerely appreciate you all being here tonight. The next song we are going to play for you all has been the biggest turning point this band has ever seen." I heard the screams, and did my best to tune them out so I could hear his words. "Is anyone familiar with a song called Just Pretend?"
The room rocked with the cheers and chants of the crowd.
"That volume that I just heard? That's the volume I want to hear you sing this with me, okay? Don't worry about trying to hit the perfect note or get all of the words right. It's about us all, being here together tonight."
The music played softly behind him when his lips reached the microphone.
"I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you..."
My heart twisted in my chest.
"I'm not afraid, of the war you've come to wage against my sins. I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend. So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out?"
The tears pooled in my eyes. No fucking way. The song played on, mocking me with the lyrics.
"I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same."
"We'll try again, when we're not so different. We will make amends, till then I'll just pretend."
My hands came up to cover my face, my lip trembling hard.
"Weigh down on me. Stay till morning. Way down. Would you say I'm worthy?"
I choked on a sob, my legs pushing me forward, and I ran out of the room. I felt my stomach lurching, my mouth clamping closed as I ran toward the bathroom.
I heard Ray chasing behind me. "Y/N! Wait!"
Flying into the bathroom and finding the first open stall, I fell to my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. My hands gripped my hair, tears falling hard down my face.
"Oh God, babe." Ray reached to grab my hair from me as I wretched all of the Vodka out of my stomach, my heart and soul pouring out with it.
When I finished, I let my chest heave with sobs, my hand covering my eyes in ebarrassment.
"Fuck, Ray." I said as I wiped my face with the tissue she handed me. "I've got to get the hell out of here."
She nodded. "Okay, my love. Let's do that."
After a solid twenty minutes of cleaning myself up in the bathroom, we stepped out, noticing the crowd now formed outside, waiting at the table for the band to come out for the signing. Ray was frantically dialing Sean, trying to find him among the sea of people. I just plopped myself down on the floor near the restroom, trying to relax as best as I could.
"Y/N?" I looked up at her. "I have to go find Sean. He isn't answering. Can you wait here for me?"
I just nodded, defeated. She was gone, lost within the abyss of people, and I sat, waiting, head in my hands.
I was pulled out of my stupor by the sound of cheering. The band had come out, all waving and smiling. I didn't even bother chancing a glance at him, for fear I may vomit again.
Ray had not come back yet, despite the four or five texts I had now sent her. I had been waiting for a solid thirty minutes, people watching the line and avoiding seeing his face. The ropes of the line were blocking my view of the faces sitting at the table.
After another fifteen, Ray finally bounded up to me, out of breath, Sean in tow.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry! That crowd is vicious!"
I stood slowly, the room only slightly spinning. I swallowed the dry, disgusting feeling in my throat, and began moving toward the exits that were now mostly clear.
"Let's go." She nodded at me, and took my arm. We had to wait behind several people trying to all get through the same revolving door. My skin felt spiky and cold.
"Hang on! Wait!"
A voice behind me made ice run through my veins, and I closed my eyes, begging whatever God existed to spare me in this moment.
A hand gripped my shoulder, and I tensed, turning my face, and my eyes looked straight at him.
He had spotted me, running from his table to catch me. He had to have been pretty damn sure it was me to chase after me like that. Fans began to crowd us, camera phones coming out, pictures snapping.
The look on his face was much less certain than I expected, as if he possibly made a mistake.
"I'm sorry..." His voice was unsteady. "Do I," He cleared his throat, eyes bouncing back and forth between my own. "know you?"
My eyebrows shot up. He really didn't recognize me?
He thought he did, but now...
"No. I don't think so." I spit out my words, teeth grinding together. It felt exactly the same as the last time I had seen him.
He dropped his hand, eyes still transfixed on mine. "I swore..."
I just turned my body, pressing my way past the gathered crowd, not giving him the chance to think it through.
In the car, I stared out the back window, arms wrapped around myself.
"What did he say, honey?" Ray's voice was so gentle.
"He didn't recognize me. He thought he did, but once he got up close, I guess I look too different." My words were only a peg above a whisper.
"You going to be okay? I don't have to stay at Sean's."
I just wiped the stray tear off of my cheek. "It's fine. I'd rather be alone."
-
A long, scalding shower, two handfuls of shredded cheese, and a solid half-hour crying session later, I was laid catatonically on my bed, eyes staring at the screen as Grey's Anatomy flashed across my screen.
I had blanked my mind out, forcing myself to let the thoughts go for the night. I was too tired and broken to let my heart hurt like this again. It took a solid year to get over Noah enough that I was able to function again. My first year of med school was disappointing, and I didn't make any friends until I made it into the second year. It took me nearly three to start dating.
I couldn't do that again.
I had been ignoring the texts going off on my phone, assuming it was Ray just checking on me for the thousandth time. I did, however, decide to take a look when I heard my ringtone going off.
Who would be calling me at 2AM?
I didn't even bother checking the screen before I put the phone up to my ear, my voice hoarse from crying.
"Hello?"
"What are the odds that you haven't changed your number after all this time?"
I sat bolt upright, my voice catching in my throat. The voice on the other end sounded nearly as wrecked as mine.
"Noah?" It barely came out.
"It's been a long time."
I cleared the newly formed phlegm out of my throat. "It has."
"I knew that was you." It sounded deadly quiet in the background of his end of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming tonight?"
I sighed. "Nick told you?"
"He might've."
I groaned. "Well, I asked him not to."
"Why?"
I scoffed. "What do you mean, why?" I rubbed my eyes. "We're not exactly speaking anymore, Noah."
He hummed. "That's true."
I chewed on my lip, not having any kind of clue of what to say.
"What did you think?"
"Of the show?"
"Mhm."
I sighed. "It was good. Different than what I would have expected."
A soft laugh came through the line. "How so?"
I smiled at that. "It's just a lot different than what I expected your music to sound like."
"In a bad way?"
"No. Not at all."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." His voice was so serious. So monotone. Nothing at all like what I remembered.
The line fell silent again, and I found this irritating. What was he playing at?
"Why did you call, Noah?"
I heard a breath on the other end, and some rustling. "I don't know."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have."
"Maybe. I wanted to hear your voice."
My stomach tightened. "Now you have. I should go."
"Wait..." I held the phone firm, waiting. "I want to see you."
My heart pounded. "What?"
"I need to see you." His words were so matter-of-fact.
"I don't think so, Noah. That's not a great idea."
"It's not, but I'm asking..." He sounded so small. "Can I please see you?"
I perused the idea. "When?"
"Now?"
I scrunched up my face, sitting up again. "Now? It's after two in the morning."
"I don't care. I'll come to wherever you are."
This struck me. Maybe he hadn't changed?
"I, uh," I struggled to speak. "Noah, I don't know. I'm at home, it's late. I should be sleeping."
"Y/N?" I stopped, listening. "Please?"
I am a weak woman, and that is just plain fact. I was frantically running throughout the apartment, attempting to tidy any kind of mess I could get my hands on. Ray and I hadn't taken the time to really clean in months, so it was stressing me out. My pajama pants were hanging low on my hips, and I swam in my large sweatshirt.
My hair was falling loose around my face, and I was sure my eyes were puffy from the crying I had done. How insane was I? Had I completely lost it?
It was almost 3AM when a knock came at my apartment door, and I froze in place. What was I doing? Why was I allowing this to happen? I didn't need to do this to myself.
I was fine, living in my normal, tired bubble. I was headed towards a successful career that would take me further than I ever imagined. Why was I allowing this trainwreck of a friendship back into my life? What was I thinking?!
I wasn't. That was the answer to that question.
I opened the door, not sure what to expect on the other side. He stood, still as tall as I remembered, looming in the doorway. He wore a black hoodie, hands tucked neatly in the pocket. Dark blue jeans and black Converse. A white beanie covering his hair.
Like this, he looked almost recognizable. Except for his eyes...
Just like in the photograph I had seen earlier, his eyes were so dark. There was very little life behind them. Deep blue circles hung under the rims, making a pull in my chest show itself.
I just stood, blocking the doorway, hand white-knuckling the frame.
"Hi." Was all he managed. He was staring at me, eyes moving up and down my face as if he was seeing an apparition.
"Hi." I echoed, trying to not feel out of place under his stare.
"I'm glad you agreed to see me." He didn't move an inch, his jaw ticking closed with his last work.
I just nodded, letting out all of my air. "Yeah, well, you were insistent."
He nodded, finally looking away from me and down at the ground.
"I had to."
I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes. "Did you?" He raised a brow at me. "Did you just have to see me? Because I think we probably would've been alright without it."
I could see his face fall, hurt by what I said, but I didn't care. He never did.
"I'm sorry. I know it's selfish."
"Mm," I pinched my lips together, and opened my door wider. "come in."
I stalked back into the house, not daring to look back at him. I heard the door shut behind me, and I steadied myself, expecting to turn around and see him vanished.
To my chagrin, he was still there.
Deciding not to stagnate, I walked into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of tea from the fridge, and walking back out to the living area. He hadn't moved, and was still staring at me.
"So." I motioned to him. "What can I do for you?"
Noah was so statuesque, as if carved right out of stone. "I don't really know."
My face lifted, a smirk on my lips. "You don't know? Noah," I placed a hand on my hip. "you show up here at 3AM, and you have no idea why?"
He shrugged, eyes begging me for mercy. "I'm sorry. I don't."
"Can you stop apologizing and just tell me why you're here?!" My patience snapped, startling even me.
This took him back, but instead of tucking tail and backing away, he stood straighter, face hardening.
"I can't tell you why I'm here if I don't know, alright?" His words were stern.
"Well you must have some kind of reason? Because this feels wildly unnecessary."
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "It is? So you didn't want to see me?"
I set my tea on the coffee table and stood nonchalantly. "Not really."
He narrowed his eyes. "I don't buy it." He took a step toward me, but I stood firm. "If you didn't you wouldn't have stayed, tonight. You would've left after you saw the band your friends went to see."
He was closer now, and it felt like a string had tethered between us, the tension slowly slacking.
"Yeah, well, I wanted to see your set. See how the band was doing."
He snickered at me. "Oh, sure. Of course." His hands finally appeared from his pockets, one running over his chin. "Which song was your favorite?"
Oop. I wasn't expecting that.
"The second one. Villain, or something?"
He nodded. "Like A Villain." Noah's eyes weren't buying it. "Which one did you like least?"
I scoffed. "I don't know, Noah? The first one?"
"Mm, and which one was that?"
I was swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn't remember, the night blurring together.
"Uh, I don't know the name."
He took a step back, triumphant. "You weren't there for the set. You wanted to see me."
Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms. "Still as self-absorbed as ever, I see?"
"Am I wrong?"
He had me backed into a corner, and he fucking knew it.
I threw my arms up. "Fine! Maybe I did. But you wanted to see me too."
He sneered at me, venom on his lips. "Obviously, or else I wouldn't be here."
"You still haven't said why."
"Why did you want to see me?"
My voice was raising, frustration growing. "I don't know!"
"I don't know either!" He yelled back at me, and my mouth snapped closed. Noah never raised his voice at me. Not ever.
He took three long strides over to me until he was only stood a foot away.
"I didn't expect to ever see you again, Y/N! I thought you were gone forever! So imagine my surprise when I see you walking out of the House of Blues, and you deny even knowing me!"
I felt like shrinking into a ball right there on the floor, ceasing to exist.
"I wanted to see you because how could I not?! Seven fucking years, Y/N!" He backed down for a second, his breathing becoming ragged. "I've been waiting seven years."
I furrowed my brow. "Waiting?"
"For you to reach out. To tell me you missed me. To give me some kind of indication we could reconcile and be us again."
There was a fire, deep down in my gut, that I had never been able to truly extinguish. A fire Noah had lit years ago. A mine shaft burning like the depths of hell in my belly that I had buried under concrete and therapy, keeping it at bay.
In my apartment, tonight, that fire broke loose. And there was no stopping it.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I took a step forward, pressing into his space, index finger jabbing into his chest. "I was supposed to reach out?!"
He took a step back, eyes now full of fear.
"I professed my love to you, Noah! I told you I wanted you, and you fucking left!"
He puffed at me, pointing a finger back at me. "You told me to leave!'
"Yes! Because you told me you didn't love me! You told me you couldn't love me the way I loved you!"
He squeezed his lids shut tight, growling and turning away from me, taking several steps away. His hands came up, gripping the beanie on his head.
"God damn it Y/N!" He turned to look at me, a fiery rage matching my own behind his eyes. "Of course I fucking loved you!"
My heart stopped, completely motionless.
"What?"
"I've always loved you! From the moment I laid fucking eyes on you! I've never loved anyone, no one, the way I loved you!" He charged me, backing me toward the couch. "But I couldn't love you, Y/N! I wasn't good enough. I was a piss-poor high school dropout musician trying to make a name for himself, and, until recently, failing miserably."
I couldn't speak, thoughts racing so fast, I struggled to keep up.
"And you?" He pointed a finger back into my chest. "You were smart, and motivated, and you were going to make something of yourself. I couldn't drag you down with me. I couldn't force you to follow this journey with me. It would've ruined your life!"
My lungs weren't working right, and my hands were shaking. He wasn't actually saying this. I was hallucinating.
"So I left. I left to give you a chance at a real life. Which, evidently, you've managed to build without me." He took a step back, then, dropping his hands. "And I, somehow, without you."
This hurt me, hearing he had managed to become so successful, despite my involvement.
"Noah, I had no idea-"
"No," He cut me off. "you didn't."
I hadn't even caught the tears falling from my eyes, blurring my vision until he was just a watery mess in front of me.
"You didn't need me." I choked out, and he looked directly at me, inquisitively. "You've made it so far. You're a rockstar now, Noah."
He scoffed. "Y/N, you don't get it." He looked away from me, focused on the wall behind me. "I died without you. Something inside of me was lost the day I left, and I never got it back."
"Well, you're successful now, so it can't be so bad, right?"
He snorted, shaking his head. "Success always comes with a price."
My lips were wet with the tears I couldn't hold in, and I couldn't keep my breathing even. I knew he saw it, but hesitated to engage, wanting to keep a wide berth between us. I couldn't take it. It was too much.
Hearing he loved me. Hearing I had been wrong all this time. Hearing that the heartbreak I felt for so long wasn't his fault. He was protecting me, even after all these years.
"Noah?" He chanced a glance at me, and I saw his own eyes sparkling with moisture.
I couldn't take it.
I rushed him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and clinging on, desperate to find relief against him. My lips smashed into his, tearing apart the barrier I had worked so hard to build.
His hands grabbed me, holding me into place against him, his lips melted into mine, returning the kiss fervently. We were hopeless. We were hungry.
My tears didn't stop flowing, emotion pouring out of every pore. My fingers clawed at him, needing to get closer. My hand grabbed the beanie, and pulled it off of his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. I gripped it at the scalp, trying to pull myself closer.
Feeling what I was attempting to do, his hands lifted me by the back of my legs, so I could wrap them around his midsection. I refused to disconnect the kiss, breathing in his soul. It was so real and so familiar. How I missed it like hell.
His legs carried us to the couch, where he sat us down. My legs straddled him, and I finally pulled away to tug at the sweatshirt he wore. He made quick work of pulling it up over his head while I did the same with my own. Reconnecting our lips, my hands wandered over his neck and chest, scratching at the fabric of his shirt.
His teeth caught my bottom lip, and I moaned into his mouth. His fingers pulled at the waistband of my pajama pants, and I lifted myself enough to slip them off, replacing myself on his lap. His jeans were already getting tighter as his hands smoothed up and down my thighs.
"Fucking hell." He looked down, staring at my bare breasts in front of him. "These got bigger, huh?"
I laughed, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, well, things change."
His fingers gripped around my left breast, lips falling to circle around the hardened nipple. I let my head fall back, relishing in the warm feeling spreading throughout my body.
"Still so fucking beautiful, just like I remember." I pulled at the hair on the back of his neck. "Did you miss me, baby girl?"
I ground my hips down against him in response. His hand began playing with the button of his jeans, and I moved it away to open them myself.
I stood up to pull his jeans down to his knees, his boxers bulging in the crotch.
"Oh, fuck." I sighed out. "Yeah, I missed you."
His smile then was devious, some of that regular spark shining back in his eyes. "Then show me, huh?"
Reaching into the opening of his underwear, I pulled his cock free, taking a moment to remember just how large it was. It had been a very long time since I had seen anything quite that impressive. Dipping my head down, I licked a long stripe up the shaft, lingering on the head to gather the precome leaking out.
"Holy shit." His head fell back on the couch, his eyes rolling back with it. "Mm, do that again, please?"
I smirked, looking up at him. "Only since you asked so nicely."
My tongue repeated the movement, drawing out a hard groan out of him, his legs twitching. "Fuck yeah, baby."
Without warning, I wrapped my lips around him and swallowed him as far down as my throat would allow, gagging on the tip as it struck my tonsils. His hips jolted upward, effectively fucking my throat.
"Please, Y/N, I won't last that way." He begged, his words only coming out as breaths. "I need to feel you, please."
He was begging, and I couldn't resist it. I needed him too.
I stood back up, and kneeled on either side of him, carefully lining him up with my entrance. When I sunk down, that delicious burn pierced through me, and my body collapsed onto him at the intensity of it.
"Noah, oh my God." He ran a hand up my back, allowing me a moment to adjust.
"I know, baby. I know." He soothed me, rubbing small circles into my skin.
My hips stuttered forward, needing to feel the friction. His hand reached down to grab my ass, and lifted me upward. Without warning, his hips snapped forward and fucked into me, making a sharp scream leave my lips.
My face rested on his chest, whimpers falling from my throat with each hard thrust.
"Fuck, you missed me, pretty girl?" He was panting between his words, his rhythm picking up speed. "Missed the way I fuck you?"
My eyes were rolling back, the tears from before now replaced with tears of raw pleasure.
"I'll bet you've never been fucked like this, huh?" His words were just tones of desire playing in my ears, his cock absolutely destroying me. "No one can fuck you like I can, baby. No one."
My nails dug hard into his shirt, begging for release.
"Let me know when you come, baby. Not finishing until you do."
Luckily for him, I was riding the edge so hard it was making the room spin. Biting my lip to keep from screaming, I lifted myself to look at his face.
"Noah," I searched his eyes, his hips not faltering. "I love you."
He grit his teeth, trying to focus on me and his hips at the same time. "I love you, too. So fucking much."
My face fell back down, landing on the side of his neck. "I'm going to come. Please, Noah, I'm so close..."
He, somehow, managed to pump into me harder, sending my body over the cliff and into the warm waves of my orgasm. My body went slack against him as my walls pulsed around his length.
I heard him curse, and his hips stilled. I felt him spasming inside me, and silently thanked myself for my IUD.
We laid that way, sweaty and heaving, for a solid ten minutes before either of us could find the strength to move. I slipped him out of me, and sat up to look at him. He looked absolutely wrecked, in the best possible way.
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread over me.
"Hi." Was all I could manage.
He chuckled tiredly. "Hi."
-
After our excursion, Noah and I had taken a few minutes to clean up, and, being as exhausted as you'd expect, decided to lay together for a while.
He told me he had to leave within a few hours to get back to his hotel, heading to the next city bright and early, so I told him I'd stay up until he had to leave.
However, in my bed, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his voice whispering sweet words in my ears, I struggled to remain conscious.
"Do you remember when I bought you that Oasis album for your fourteenth birthday? That was basically me professing my love to you."
"I was such an idiot. I should've just told you."
"You have no idea how much I've missed you. I don't think you'll ever understand."
"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different..."
And that's how I woke up, light in my bedroom far too bright, and my bed empty.
I don't know what I expected? For him to stay? Fuck off his tour to make up for lost time with me?
But still, my chest stung when I saw he had left, but I wasn't surprised.
Something had changed last night, and the darkness that lingered in the depths of my being had lifted, leaving me with a sense of hope I hadn't felt before.
When I had woken for the day, clearing the cobwebs from my eyes, I contemplated my next move. He had surely left town already, but that didn't mean I couldn't keep in touch, right?
Pulling out my phone, I found his contact, and opened a text thread.
Me: Hey, call me when you can. I think we have a lot to talk about. :)
I set my phone down on the bathroom counter, preparing to brush my teeth when my phone dinged, and the notification told me the text had failed.
Odd?
I resent it, getting the same response.
Why would my messages fail? I paid my bill, right?
Quickly dialing Ray's number, I held the phone to my ear and heard the ringing, so I knew my service was fine. Giving her a quick apology for waking her, I hung up, and went back to my texts.
His number was the same, right?
I went back to my call logs, seeing it was his number that called me last night, so it was the same as it had always been.
So...what the hell?
My finger hovered over the number for a moment, and I weighed the options before finally resolving to just call him. Make sure I wasn't losing my mind.
I held the phone to my face as I started brushing my teeth, waiting for the call to connect.
"The number you have reached is not in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again."
253 notes · View notes
emmaxdelicate · 24 days
Text
Karma is my girlfriend
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Summary: Taylor Swift x famous!reader ; Taylor changes the lyrics to her song on tour and everyone freaks out.
Warnings: I am NOT a gaylor! I just write for fem readers. Use of y/n (only 1 time). She/her pronouns. Nothing, just kissing and two idiots in love :)
A/N: Okay so this is really rushed and short and it's my first story on here so it's probably bad so PLEASE don't mind. Okay? Okay.
wc: 565 masterlist
The loud music made your ears tremble in a somewhat pleasant way. The blinding strobes coming from the centre of the pit danced throught the stadium walls and the sky. The people around you had no idea of what was going on between you and the woman on stage.
You and Taylor met 5 months ago at friend's birthday party, and since then you haven't been able to keep your eyes off of her. You exchanged phone numbers and started talking almost everyday, that becoming long phone calls, to actual meetups, wich became dates.
On your second one, you kissed. It was brief, a small peck on the lips just before you both pulled away to contemplate eachother's gazes, trying to decode your own rumbling thoughts.
A week later you started dating. No one really knows about it, and you both want to keep it that way.
Taylor's currently performing Karma, her last song on the setlist, everybody's dancing and singing in the VIP tent.
Step by step from town to town
Sweet like justice, karma is a queen
Karma takes all my friends to the summit
Karma is the girl on the screen, coming straight home to me
The crowd cheers loudly, everyone freaking out about the small but so significant lyric change.
You know it's about you. The smirk she's got on her mouth is the exact same she has whenever she's kissing you.
A sudden thought struck your mind: all of the people recording, the cameras, and you were still smiling and blushing like an idiot. You rapidly put on your acting skills, faking an amused face and blending in with everyone else's.
All good things come to an end, and so does the song. Taylor gives her last goodbye to the shaking crowd and disappears under the stage.
As fast as a racing cheetah, you get out the VIP tent following the mass of people who are waiting for Taylor to exit the stadium. But you pass right by them, headed to her dressing room.
After showing your badge to security and being stopped by some fans, you finally reach your destination. Eager knocks resound throught the stadium's inner walls as Taylor opens up the door. Her blue orbs immediately dilatate as she sees you.
"Hey," she says.
"Hi," you breathily reply, stunned at the sight of how the blue sparkly bodysuit she has on hugged her curves.
"Come in," she steps aside closing the door behind her.
You step closer to her and quickly find yourself placing a gentle kiss on her lips with you arms wrapped around her neck.
"So," Taylor kindly breaks the kiss "what'd you think about that?"
"About what?"
She jokingly rolls her eyes, "About the lyrics, silly"
You can feel the blood rapidly rush to your cheeks, "Oh, I loved it"
"Really?"
"Obviously!" you loosen the grip around her neck "Everyone loved it! You were so good"
"Thank you, y/n" she hugs you and rests her cheek on your shoulder, "you mean so much to me"
Taylor raises her head up, waiting for a response.
"I love you, Taylor"
When you hear nothing back, you start panicking. "I-I'm sorry Tay, if you still don't feel it you can just- just forget I said that"
But then, that smirk plasters her face, and you already know what she's gonna say.
"I love you too".
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220 notes · View notes
dameronology · 8 months
Text
home (frank castle)
warnings: a little bit of frank being depressed but that's about it. probably language too? i don't even notice anymore.
this is the first thing i've written in so long and it's very short buuuut i hope you like it
--jazz xx
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You could always tell when Frank had had a bad night.
The signs were clear as soon as he got home. Boots thrown to the side with a loud thunk (he would apologise for the noise in the morning); body haphazardly hitting the mattress beside you as he let out a huff of exhaustion. Normally, his hands would be on you before he even in bed. He had to sleep with his chest pressed to your back, arms wrapped tightly around you, any signs of breaking free met with intense refusal until the morning. You felt safe but he felt safer.
Tonight was different. You heard the crash of shoes, and the thump, thump, thump towards the bed. The mattress dipped beside you but instead of his hands, you were met with Frank's back to you. It was tense, littered with pink scars and red ones, and fresh cuts and bruises. You could have reached out, but you didn't want to push it. A few years ago, before you, before this, before he'd learnt love again, he probably wouldn't have come home at all. He would have stayed out til the crack of dawn, fighting, fighting, fighting; fists beaten to a pulp and every part of him rigid and exhausted to his very core. Frank had learnt now: when he got really bad, he had to come home. When the going got too tough even for him, it normally meant it was the end of night. You were just grateful he had come at all.
You said nothing; just a small sigh. For him, for you, for whatever the morning would bring.
10AM came quickly. It was a Sunday, so Manhattan was nice enough to wake a few minutes later than usual. The silence in your bedroom was quickly filled with the sound of horns and brakes and the yells of the outside world. You didn't have work that day, thank god. That meant there was no rush. Frank could rise whenever he wanted.
Except - fuck - you had forgotten to turn off your alarm. It came blaring out your phone as soon as the clock struck on the hour, vibrating across your bedside table and onto the floor with a loud thud. Frank, being the world's lightest and potentially most dangerous sleeper, quickly rose. His hair was getting longer now, so it was tuftier in the mornings. You would have laughed if your chest wasn't so heavy.
You quickly hopped out of bed, sheepishly picking up the phone.
"Shit," you muttered. "Frankie, I'm sorry."
He let out a grumble, rubbing his eyes. "It's okay. I had to wake up at some point."
"Are you okay?" you quietly asked. "I know you're not but...I gotta ask."
Frank didn't say anything - instead he just sighed. Then, he opened his arms and ushered for you to come back to bed. You did so without hesitation, dropping into the sheets beside him. Strong arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you to his chest, one hand cupping the back of your head. You'd always found irony in the fact that he had to be the one to hold you when he was upset. No matter how shit he was feeling, Frank was always the big spoon. His ability to protect you was the one thing he could control. It was the one thing that made him feel a little okay again.
"It was a really rough night," he quietly admitted. "I'll be okay, sweetheart. I just wanna take it easy today."
Frank said nothing else. What he had said was beyond anyone else's wildest dreams; this was coming from the man who made a point of closing himself off, from refusing himself love and anything good. You were the only person he would ever say anything too. It was safe to assume at any given moment that he wasn't okay, but he was a little closer to it when he was with you.
The rest of the morning went like a ghost.
You moved around each other with ease; his small touches lingered - a hand on your back here, another on your hip there - and you could tell he was coming back around. Sure, he burnt the first three pancakes and didn't realise the milk was out of date til after he'd poured it into your coffee, but he was being Frank. You would have been more worried if he'd cooked properly or made good coffee.
You'd moved to the sofa by midday, dirty plates piled up in the sink and Max snoring on the rug in the middle of your living room. Die Hard was playing quietly in the background (Frank argued it was an all year round movie). You were sat between his legs on the sofa, large thighs either side of yours and arms wrapped around your front. He had his head resting on top of yours, giving you the occasional squeeze with his legs and arms.
"I love you," Frank quietly murmured. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.
You turned your head to look at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I love you too."
"I'm sorry for being quiet last night. I didn't mean to ignore you."
"You don't have to apologise," you hummed. "I'm just grateful you came home."
"I'll always come home."
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starsofmilos · 1 month
Text
Holding Back (Adrian Chase x reader)
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Synopsis: You're an immortal. Adrian is not. You fall in love with a version of him each and every time. Only to outlive him.
So I had this idea while listening to the song 'I Know You,' by Faye Webster. I recommend.
Masterlist
Warnings: mentions of sex, angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of violence, guns, blood, murder
"You're holding me and holding back I don't really care for that Just you"
Adrian didn't wanna go out tonight. He said he wouldn't, but the team wanted him to go.
So here he was sat here at the bar ordering a beer as he waited for Chris to show up. He didn't notice you.
The pretty girl who had been working the bar. The girl who couldn't help but look at him as if you saw a ghost. The girl who's hand shook as you handed him a beer.
"This isn't what I ordered miss-" Adrian froze as he looked up seeing you. Actually seeing you. He adjusted his glasses.
"Hi.." He breathed out. A warm feeling spread throughout him. He grinned at you.
It was like something struck his chest. He couldn't describe it but you were..
You were so beautiful..
"So this isn't your drink? I'm sorry call it an old habit I guess. I'll get you what you ordered sorry-"
"No no! I want this beer. I'll take it your fine." Adrian grinned at you. You gave him a nervous smile. He took it sipping it.
"Holy shit this is amazing." You fidgeted with your hands.
"Yeah I figured you would like that one." He couldn't stop staring at you. "Well I'll be getting back to work now."
"What's your name?" Adrian asked you.
"What?"
"Your name? I'm so sorry I must be acting like such a weirdo. I'm Adrian and I plan on ordering this beer again so incase I forget the name of it..Can I have your name?"
"Oh..I'm Y/N.." You gave him a smile.
"Y/N..that's such a pretty name.." You grew flustered as he couldn't help but stare at you.
"Thank you..Adrian.." You walked away giving him another glance. He looked just the same as always.
Adrian jumped feeling a hand on his shoulder. "Dude why are you staring at the bartender?" Chris had arrived.
"Oh I just ordered a drink."
"That's not your usual though." Chris gave him a confused look.
"I wanted to try something new okay!" Adrian snapped out. He shook his head.
Chris laughed a bit. "Alright dude my bad. You mind calling her back? I wanna order a drink now."
"Uh sure sure sure." Adrian looked at you giving you a grin again. You smiled waving at him. He waved you over.
"There's a pause between every minute Feelin' like I need something It's just you"
You giggled as Adrian kissed your neck. "Man am I so happy you came home with me."
"Well you're cute and you got me pizza so I couldn't pass up an opportunity to be with you." Adrian laughed kissing you.
"Now look I latched on and didn't let go and I will never let you go." You giggled kissing his lips. "I don't know how to explain it. I just felt attached to you. Like it happened so fast.”
Your smile faltered a bit at his words. Adrian lifted his head feeling you tense. “What’s wrong?” He asked caressing your cheek.
“Nothing..just happy to be here with you.” You relaxed again. He kissed your lips.
“I’m happy to be here with you too. Now wanna cuddle and watch movies?” He asked running his hand down your stomach. You giggled feeling ticklish.
“Yeah I’d love that a lot.” He smiled at your words kissing you again. He really couldn’t explain it. He just felt it in his heart.
“I know I know
I know I know
you..
You…”
“Adrian I don’t-“
“ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!!” Adrian shouted cutting you off. His hands urgently reaching for his mask.
You stood in shock feeling the blood soak through your shoes. Your socks now drenched.
In all the lives you’ve lived, you have seen your fair share of dead people. You’ve seen Adrian die in almost every life time you’ve been with him, but this was different.
You had never seen him standing over the dead people.
“Honey please please it’s not what it looks like.” He panted ripping his Vigilante mask off. “I swear please baby.” He reached for you desperate.
Your eyes snapped to his. Shock was coursing through you but the one thing that also flowed through you was love.
Adrian was and will always be the love of your life. No matter what.
Your hand lifted grasping his ignoring the blood on them. “It’s okay.” Adrian looked in shock by your words. You leaned in your lips meeting his gently. “I know you. It’s okay.” You reassured.
He grasped at you yanking your body to his. Neither of you caring of the blood all over or the dead body in the room. At least you knew in this lifetime Adrian could protect himself.
“I'll quiet down if it's what you want
I understand I'm not the only one
For you”
“So peacemaker and me totally fucking nerfed this guy and then he spit out a fucking Butterfly from his mouth! So I freak out and I shoot him-“
“Adrian you’re literally missing your pinky toe.” You lectured him as you tended to his wounds. “This is not funny to me. He let you get tortured.”
“Well yeah but he also couldn’t give up information so I understand-“
“Yeah well I don’t. You call him your best friend but he could even fucking stop a guy from torturing you.”
“Y/N…” Adrian sighed out. “It’s not a big deal-“
“Yes it is.” You cut him off. “I’m sorry honey but this is big deal to me. You’re hurting. And if this me sitting here instead you’d have a lot more to say.”
“Yeah but this isn’t you! God why do I even bother speaking you have some type of lecture waiting for me.” Adrian snapped out.
“You did not just say that to me.” You snapped out standing up. Adrian sighed looking away.
“Okay…make sure to keep your wounds clean.” Adrian’s eyes widened seeing you grab your bag.
“Baby where are you going-“
“Away from you since all I seem to do is fucking annoy you.” You yelled back as tears welled in your eyes.
“I didn’t say that!” Adrian argued. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“Every time I find you I get so happy but then forget how much of an ass you are.” You sniffled as you cried.
“Babe what do you mean?” He asked confused by your wording. You ignored him storming out.
“So tell me what you're looking for
Is it a picture-perfect girl
For you?”
You laid in bed replaying the argument with Adrian in your head. You loved him more than anything in your life.
Could this be the end? No it couldn’t possibly be? You’ve had worser disagreements in the past. Well your past lives that is.
It was exhausting losing Adrian.
A knock on your window interrupted your thoughts. Peeking through you sighed seeing Adrian as Vigilante.
“I don’t wanna talk to you.” You snapped out. Adrian groaned.
“Honey I’m sorry! You were right. I should be more angry about it. I don’t think you lecture me all the time and when you do I know it’s cause you care. I’m just an idiot!”
You opened the window glaring at him. “No you’re just sorry cause you want something not cause you mean it.”
“No I do mean it.” Adrian snapped out. “I do mean that I’m sorry for upsetting you and making you cry. I don’t like doing that.”
You rolled your eyes as he reached forward grasping your chin. “Hey.” He whispered out. “I do mean it. You’re right I’m not sorry for brushing the whole thing off but I am sorry for not taking your feelings into account and not listening to you and making you sad. You only speak to me cause you care and I love you and I’m not ready to lose you.” He whispered out.
You moved aside letting him in. He ripped his mask off lunging for you. His head buried in your neck as he held you. You sighed hugging him back.
“You were also right about another thing. I did come for something and that something is you.” He murmured out. “You’re mine. My girl and I don’t like it when we’re apart and you’re mad at me.” He kissed you softly.
“Here I was thinking you’d break up with me and find someone better.” You teased.
“Never.” Adrian looked at you seriously. “I could never.”
“I know
I know
You
You…”
“So you can’t die.” Adrian repeated your words softly. After project Butterfly, you decided it was finally time to tell Adrian your biggest secret.
“Yes..when I was younger I challenged one of the gods and I lost. He proceeded to curse me with immortality.” I sighed.
“That’s why you never age?” Adrian snapped out. A small short laugh bursted. Out of everything he could’ve said you weren’t expecting that.
“Yeah that’s why I don’t age. I’ve lived through it all Adrian.” You smiled at him. He sighed holding your hand.
“And you know me?..” He repeated again. You nodded standing up.
“This is my photo album that I’ve never shown you..it goes back to when cameras were invented.” Adrian looked through it shocked to see himself over and over.
“Y/N..you fall in love with me over and over again.” He whispered in shock.
“And I standby you as you die too.” You spoke. “I love you Adrian Chase. More than anything in this universe.”
Adrian stood up scooping you up in his arms. “I love you too..I don’t know what to say. This is crazy. Like it’s cool but also like wow. You’re telling me that you fall in love with me over and over?”
“It’s how I knew your favorite that night we met at the bar. I’ve gotten you that same drink so many times.” He laughed at your words.
“I wanna be with you forever.” He whispered out.
“I'm here regardless of the pain
Don't ever tell me to go away
From you”
“ADRIAN!” You yelled for him as you bursted through the hospital doors. Chris stood up going to meet you.
“Y/N! Hey hey calm down he’s in surgery right now as we speak.” He grasped your arm. You yanked away from him.
“You don’t talk to me! You could give two shits about him.” You snapped out. A nurse approached you both.
“Adrian Chase?” She spoke up. Your head snapped up.
“I’m his fiance.” You looked at her worriedly. It was seven pm when you got the call. Adrian had been in a tough fight and took a gunshot for Chris.
You had practically ran yourself here.
The nurse nodded. “He’s in the ICU asking to see you. I could take you back there with him?” She offered softly. “The doctor said his chances are not so good. The gun punctured his upper cavity..”
Your heart dropped at her words. You rushed with her seeing Adrian in his hospital bed. Tears welled in your eyes as you ran to him.
“Adrian..” You whispered out. Your hand grasped his. “I’m right here baby even if you can’t see me I’m right here. I’m not gonna go anywhere.”
Adrian laid barely able to speak. His hand gently squeezed yours back as you kissed his arm. Your head pressed against his shoulder.
“You’re gonna be okay. You have too. I can’t lose you so soon. Please don’t make me lose you so soon.” You sobbed against him.
“When we're old and have to leave the Earth
I'll still remember all I've learned
From you”
You had never once lost Adrian this soon. You were supposed to have a lifetime left before this happened again.
This wasn’t something you had prepared for. Adrian always was unpredictable.
He laid asleep in bed your hand still in his. You weren’t going to leave him. You refused too.
You’d do anything for him.
That includes giving your life away. You grasped his hand tightly.
Something filled you deeply. There was always a part of the curse you were bared that, you didn’t tell Adrian. The only way to cure the curse would be to past it on to the person you love the most.
Immortality was one of your greatest shames though. It wasn’t all it was thought out to be. You didn’t want Adrian to die though.
“This will kill me..” You spoke softly. The second the curse would leave your body, you’d die.
You smiled softly kissing him. “I love you. And I hope you find someone to love again. Maybe in another life we’re happy?..” A small sob left you as you caressed his head letting your life spill into him.
Adrian woke up alone.
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blue-slxt · 1 year
Text
New Kink
*Request: this might be a miss ngl...but neteyam and lactating reader. that's all I'm gonna say. I just know that man has a breeding kink so why not this as well*
Okay, so this request really struck a chord with me because I used to have a boyfriend that had a lactation kink. I’ve never lactated before so that never went anywhere between us, but this was such a fun idea for me. I hope you like how it turned out!🤗 All characters are aged up.
🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞
Smut under the cut.
You carefully hand your sleeping baby over to Kiri. She had offered to watch her for the day so that you could finally get a break. Jake and Neytiri were more than happy to spend some quality time with their first grandchild. You were more than grateful for all their support.
“I just fed her so she should sleep for the first little while”, you tell her while you caress your baby’s precious sleeping face.
“Alright. You try to get some food and rest too.” Kiri says to you with a smile.
“Thank you. We’ll be by later to pick her up.” “No rush” she turns and walks back home with your baby.
You breathe a big sigh of relief when you plop yourself back on your sleeping mat. Even though your baby was still only 8 weeks old, your home felt so empty without her small coos and laughter. As grateful as you were for the break, you couldn’t help but miss her already.
You rest your head back against the wall and let your body relax.
Footsteps approach your home and you look to see Neteyam entering your home. “Welcome home. You just missed Kiri.” “I see. How are you feeling, tíyawn?” he says joining you on your mat and holding your face. You lean your cheek into his hand and smile softly.
“I am fine. I have missed you Ma’Teyam.”
“I have missed you too” he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your chest. You stroke the top of his head gently enjoying these small moments of easy silence that the two of you rarely got to share any more.
Neteyam lets his eyes flutter shut while he breathes in your scent. He always loved the way you smelled and it had only intensified since having your baby. Suddenly, he felt a drip on his forearm. He opens his eyes to look and sees a single milky white droplet on his arm. And then another joins it. His eyes travel up the way it came and his eyes focus in on your breasts. They had become more full and your nipples dripped with milk.
The smell of your hormones was so strong here. He felt drunk as he stared at you. One of his hands trails up your body to cup your breast and grope it gently. You let out a deep sigh feeling his touch. The pressure he applies makes more of your milk spill over and run down his hand. “Shit…” he says lowly feeling his eyelids grow heavy and his loincloth feels tighter.
You finally look down at his hand and see the mess he’s making with your body. “Ah, ‘Teyam wait. I need to clean—” but he doesn’t let you finish your thought before he lets his impulse drive him to latch his mouth onto your nipple.
You jump at the contact with your sensitive bud. Neteyam groans against your skin tasting your sweet milk free flowing into his mouth. Every drop on his tongue pushes him more out of his mind. His hands roam about your body until one finally finds refuge between your legs.
“Neteyam, you s-shouldn’t…” you try to protest, but you can’t help how your body still submits to his touch and your back bows to press your chest more towards him.
He temporarily detaches from your nipple, “But why not?” Another suck. “You taste so good.” Another one. “So sweet all over for me.” His kisses trail down your body until his head is resting between your thighs. You open them just a little wider for him and he slides your loincloth to the side so he can bury his face in your wet cunt. A low moan escapes your lips feeling his tongue swipe back and forth across your clit. You make quick work of untying your top and letting it fall off. Neteyam busies his hands with feeling and squeezing your breasts loving how full they feel in his hands. He watches as more white dribbles out of your mounds and trail down your body. It triggers this deep-rooted need inside of him. He pulls off of you and pushes you down on the mat while he hovers over you. He attacks your neck and chest with kisses and licks and nips. “Yawne, let’s have another one.”
Your eyes go wide hearing his words. “’Teyam, we just had one” you remind him.
“I know, but I want to give you another. I want to see you carry more of my babies” he pauses to lap at your nipple again.
His tip is already prodding at your entrance. You didn’t even notice when he pulled it out. Your back arches when he finally slides in. There was the slightest twinge of pain feeling him stretch you out like this, but pleasure quickly overtakes you when he starts thrusting into you. “Oh ‘Teyam!” you call out while your fingers tangle in his braids.
His strokes are deep, but gentle. He doesn’t want to hurt you since you just had your baby even though every fiber of his being is screaming at him to mercilessly take you right now.
Low moans and groans leave his mouth feeling how wet you are around him. His mind races with flashes of your swollen belly and the fullness of your hips, thighs, and breasts. It drives his primal urge to breed you more.
He speeds up his pace and your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders. “Fuck, I wanna get you pregnant again.” Your mind is too far gone to even argue with him anymore.
“Do it Ma’Teyam. I want it.”
Your words push Neteyam’s mind over the edge. All the restraint he was holding on to goes straight out the window and he starts to rut wildly into your core. Wet squelching and moans mix in the air of your home.
The knot in your core starts to tighten when he starts slamming into your cervix. “Ah! Ah…Haah…’Teyam…Ah! Neteyam!” He’s all your mind can think of in this moment. Nothing else exists in this moment, but Neteyam and the feeling of your inevitable unraveling.
Hearing his name on your lips pushes Neteyam over the edge. “Oh, fuck I’m gonna cum. Gonna make sure you have more of my babies. Shit!” His lips latch onto your chest sucking down as much of your milk as he can while his hips stutter as he pumps you full of his thick, burning hot seed.  The heat and full feeling throws you into your own orgasm. Your body stiffens before your legs start to tremble around his waist. Your nails drag down his back and you’re both almost positive that it was deep enough to draw blood.
Neteyam holds himself inside of you for a minute trying to keep as much of his cum inside of you as he can. His body falls limp on top of you and you hold his head against your still heaving chest.
“You realize that our little one has only just been born and now we may have another one joining her soon?” you laugh a little rubbing his head.
“That is fine. You make such a pretty mama. I could do this forever.” He says blissfully nuzzling his face into your skin.
“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. You are not the one that has to birth them.”
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Note
Could you do the (16/17 year old) step daughter of spencer who calls him really late one night to pick her up from a party because she's (very) drunk and she knows he's up bc of his insomnia. And she clearly sees him as her father bc her dad left before she was even born.
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Spencer Reid X Stepdaughter Fem Reader
THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS!
Request: Could you do the (16/17 year old) step daughter of spencer who calls him really late one night to pick her up from a party because she's (very) drunk and she knows he's up bc of his insomnia. And she clearly sees him as her father bc her dad left before she was even born.
Third person pov...
Y/N was out at a friends house for a party, she was having fun, dancing and drinking all night long. She hadn't gone to a party in ages.
As the clock struck 1 am, Spencer was lying in bed, eyes wide open. Insomnia had been a constant companion for him, It was especially difficult on nights like this, when his stepdaughter Y/N was out at a party.
Y/N was a bright, independent teenager. But Spencer couldn't help but worry about her, especially since her biological father had left them before the H/C girl was even born. Spencer had taken on the role of a father to Y/N and they had formed a strong bond over the years.
Just as Spencer was about to drift off to sleep, his phone rang, jolting him awake, he immediately sat up, concern flooding through him, groggily he answered the call, expecting it to be Y/N checking in before heading home.
"Hey Y/N, everything okay?" Spencer answered with a touch of worry in his voice.
"Hi, uhm, can you come and pick me up from this party? I'm really drunk and I don't want to stay here anymore" The teenagers words were slurred and her voice was shaky.
"Of course, Y/N, I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Just stay put and I'll come get you" Spencer replied, already getting dressed and grabbing his car keys.
"Thanks, Spencer" Y/N said
She then gave him the address of the party and hung up. Spencer quickly got dressed and left his house in a hurry.
As he drove towards the address, he couldn't help but worry about Y/N, He had always been there for her, but he knew that her teenage years would be difficult but he would be there for her.
When he arrived at the party, Spencer could hear the music blaring from the house. He parked his car and walked towards the front door, bracing himself for what he would find inside.
As he neared the house he saw her sat outside. Y/N was sitting on the porch steps, her head hanging low, her H/C hair hanging infront of her face.
He could see the tears streaming down her face, and his heart broke. He got out of the car and walked towards her, sitting down next to her.
"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asked, gently placing a hand on her back.
Y/N wiped her tears and nodded. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you. I just wanted to go home"
Spencer hugged her tightly, rubbing her back as she cried. "It's okay, Y/N I'm here for you"
"I-I'm sorry" the teenager hiccuped, trying to stand up but failing miserably.
Spencer gently helped her up and led her to the car, Once she was buckled in, he drove her home in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.
They drove in silence for a few minutes before Y/N spoke, fidgeting with her painted nails "I'm sorry, Spencer" she said, her voice shaky with emotion.
"I know I shouldn't have called you. I just...I needed somebody and i couldnt call my mum" Spencer reached over and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"It's okay, N/N. I'm here for you. Always." They drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence. When they arrived home, Y/N stumbled out of the car, her legs unsteady from the alcohol.
Spencer helped her inside, and she collapsed onto the couch, shivering from the cold.
Spencer pulled a throw blanket over her, and she immediately snuggled into it, her body still shaking. He sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms, holding her close.
They sat like that for a while, Y/Ns head resting against Spencer's chest. She was still shivering, and he could feel the guilt and regret radiating from her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I shouldn't have done this. I know you must be disappointed in me."
Spencer gently lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes. "I could never be disappointed in you, Y/N You're not perfect, and I don't expect you to be. But I do expect you to be safe. And to always come to me when you need help."
Tears filled the H/C teen eyes, and she buried her face in Spencer's chest. "Thank you" she mumbled.
"I love you, Spencer. You're the only dad I've ever known"
Spencer's heart swelled with emotion, and he held her tighter, tears prickling at the corners of his own eyes.
He had never thought of himself as a father figure, but in that moment, he knew he would do anything for the girl in his arms.
They stayed there, cuddled up on the couch, until the sun began to rise. Y/n had eventually fallen asleep, her breathing slow and steady.
Spencer smiled, grateful for the opportunity to be there for her in her time of need.
She may not be his biological daughter, but in that moment, none of that mattered. They were family, and that was all that truly mattered.
He shifted himself so he could put a pillow under her head, he then unbuckled her shoes and put them down by the couch.
Standing up he looked down at her. "How am I going to do this" he muttered to himself, the tall man then leant down he wrapped an arm around her shoudlers and put his other one jnder her legs so he could lift her up.
Once she was in his arms she automatically curled up in his arms again, a content sigh escaped her lips. Smiling Spencer begins walking to his bedroom.
He wasn't going to let her sleep on the sofa, when he opened the door he he set the teenager down on the bed and lent her body against his so he could pull back the covered for her.
He then tucked her in, brushing her hair away from her face, he then kissed her temple. "Good night Y/N" he whsipers before closing the door.
The end!
Hope you liked this oneshot, so sorry for the wait for this request! Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.
Requests are open!
Word count : 1120
278 notes · View notes
techwrecker · 23 days
Note
platonic Logan howlett x kid reader where Logan takes the kid under his wing because the reader didn’t have like, parents anymore???
Intentions (Mutations)
Summary: After living on the streets for years, Logan takes it upon himself to make sure you're taken care of after your mutation develops.
Genre: Fluff?, light angst?
Tags: SFW platonic!logan, gn!kid!reader, not really fluff but not really angst, logan goes dad mode again
Word Count: 4.6k
Warnings: N/A (please let me know if I missed any!)
A/N: Thank you for sending in the ask! I hope you enjoy what I have! This is the longest piece I've written yet. Please keep in mind, that I jumbled the already incoherent timeline a little bit- I hope that's okay! Let me know if there are any grammar/spelling errors please. as always, reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚
AO3//Taglist Sign-up
Other: dividers by @moosgraphics & @bunnysrph (tysm!)
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The man standing at the mouth of the alley wasn't the usual kind of grungy, scoundrel that you were used to seeing. He was wearing a slick leather jacket over a pristine, white undershirt. His facial hair was well-kept and stylized unlike the scraggly, long beards that most around here men touted. His hair was seemingly done with a little tuft sticking out atop either side of his head. He could have just had bedhead or hat-hair, but they were too pointed to not be intentional. Ever since you were a kid, your intuition had never led you astray.
'''D'jya hear me, kid? I asked what the hell are y'doin' out in the cold all alone for." His voice was rocky and gruff, but it wasn't slurred or subdued by the weight of yellowed alcohol. You were surprised he even spotted you, huddled up against the frozen dumpster in the alley.
"Got nowhere else to go." You shrugged, attempting to retain the illusion of being unconcerned despite the wicked chill seeping beneath your layers. It wouldn't be long until the bite of winter dug its way deep into your body, carving you out and rattling your bones.
Living on the streets alone wasn't easy, especially in the winter. It had been about three years since your parents disappeared. You were yet but a tender 11 years old. At first, it was nice not having anyone around to make you get up early and go to school. But the days turned to weeks. Crying yourself to sleep night after night snuggled in deep between the fluffy pillows and lifeless covers of your parents' bed became your routine.
Eventually, the police came around after negligence reports by the school. You knew if you stayed alone any longer, you'd be taken away by force, sent off to live with strangers. Something in your stomach made it turn, telling you to run away. That bad things would happen if you stuck around. So, you packed up what your tiny frame could carry and struck out on your own, leaving the only home you had ever known.
"C'mere." He beckoned you out of the shadow with one hand and stuck it back in his jacket pocket. "Y'r gonna freeze if you stay out here any longer."
Under normal circumstances, letting strange men call you towards them late at night was a death wish, but there was something deep in your gut that told you it was safe to trust him. Besides, anywhere had to be better than in an odorous alley behind a slimy bar.
You shuffled to your feet, gripping the threadbare blanket tighter around your shoulders. You were just about to outgrow it. The ragged edge barely touched the tops of your feet anymore. Despite the trusting feeling that had wedged itself in your mind, you kept one eye on the man as you hoisted your grimy backpack onto your shoulder.
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, y’know," you said, cautiously getting closer to him.
"Yeah, well, you're also not supposed to be outside when it's 20 below."
You were now within arms reach of him. He lifted his arm out of his pocket, toward you. Instinctually, you flinched, using the backpack as a shield to cover you from any contact he might attempt.
"Relax, 'm not gonna hurt ya." He lifted his hand back in a surrendered position. "Just wanted to carry y'r pack for ya is all."
You peeked back around at him. Gingerly, you slid the backpack off your blanketed arm. You extended it to him, grip still secure on the strap. The man grabbed the other strap, but you didn't let go.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why’re you helping me?"
"'Cause I’mma bleedin' heart for the youth a tha nation, that's why," he retorted sarcastically.
You tugged the pack slightly back towards your chest. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. Letting go of the strap, he stuffed both hands back into his pockets.
"Listen kid, y' remind me of someone 's all. I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of." He shrugged.
You stared at him silently, assessing him. Delicate flurries of snow started to fall from the sky. They nestled gently on the tips of his tufts creating a light blanket. The icy fluff reflected in the harsh streetlamp, mimicking a halo. You looked into his eyes. There was a genuine sincerity in them. That trusting feeling was pulling at your conscience again.
“‘Kay… but I’m watching you, old man.”
It wasn’t a joke, but he gave a little chuckle and shook his head, amused. He mumbled something under his breath you couldn’t quite make out. Something about ‘christ’ and ‘regrets’.
“Whatever y’say, bub. You’re the boss here.” He started walking off down the street, expecting you to follow suit. You shrugged the heavy bag back onto your shoulder and started after him, slightly trailing behind him, just beyond his reach.
“So what’s your name?” You asked.
“Logan,” he said simply, not even bothering to look behind his shoulder.
Logan. It was a surprisingly mundane name. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that.
“Just Logan?” If you were going to let the stranger lead you to an even stranger location, you should at least know his full name to give the police if things went south.
“Yeah. Kid, I don’t got all night. Get a move on.” He sounded annoyed.
But it was his fault you were tagging along in the first place, you thought. Whatever. 
You picked up the pace in a light trot to catch up with him, careful not to slide on the now-slick sidewalk. You were walking side-by-side with him now, but using up twice the effort to stay in step. Logan was tall, taking long strides to get to the unknown destination quickly. 
As you walked, you admired the frosty blanket beginning to layer the frozen city. Pale drifts of snow piling in corners glittered under bright street lamps, reflection shifting with every step. It may have been freezing, but even you had to admit, the untouched, pure snow was beautiful. The street was a silent beauty.
“So who is it?” You probed carefully.
“Hm? Who?”
“The person I remind you of. Who is it?”
“Oh, uh,” he started. “Her name’s Laura.” His voice softened at her name.
“Laura. Pretty. Is she your daughter?” Your intuition prompted you to ask.
“Yeah,” he replied shortly. Apparently, he was a man of few words. He let his head hang for a moment, watching his feet drag through the graying slurry. You watched as he inhaled sharply and lifted his head back up, staring straight ahead stoically, not paying you any mind.
The rest of the trip was made in freezing silence. You were still at his side, but slightly out of his arm’s reach. He was still a stranger, after all. It turned out his apartment building was only a few blocks from where you had been hunkered down. 
His keys jangled as he pulled them out of his pocket. The lock clicked open with a solid thunk. Warm, yellow light spilled out from the doorway onto the concrete steps and frozen metal railing. Logan gestured with his arm, prompting you to step in first. You didn’t like it when people stood where you couldn’t see them, but the comforting glow of the apartment was beckoning you in. He stepped through the threshold after you and shook out the snow that had nestled in his tufts of hair. They were starting to droop slightly as the snow melted in the warmth of his home.
He slipped his arms from his jacket and tossed it on a nearby table. You took in the space he called home. It was obvious that he lived here alone, a bachelor. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the plaid couch in the corner of the living room. Much like your blanket, it was becoming threadbare with pieces of stuffing starting to poke out from the arm rests. It was calling your weary, frozen name. You tore your eyes away to put together the rest of the space. A worn-in recliner propped toward a small television set, a coffee table covered in various newspapers, a few amber beer bottles and crushed aluminum cans. The space wasn’t grimy, just a little cluttered.
“Are y’hungry?” He was walking away, further into his home, toward the kitchen. You stood there, unmoving. It had been about three years since you had set foot in a nice, proper home. You were almost brought to tears.
“Yeah. Always.” 
Logan gave you a small smile and began pulling out ingredients.
You walked toward the kitchen, keeping your snow-crusted boots on and still bundled by your blanket and backpack. Though Logan’s home was exceptionally warmer than outside, the chill of the snow had taken root in your chest and had spread its way through your appendages. It would take you a while yet to thaw.
“How d’ya feel about grilled cheese?” The skillet was already warming on the stovetop and Logan had begun spreading butter across the two pieces of bread. Your mouth watered at the sight. The familiar pang of hunger ripped through your stomach. You almost wanted to tell him to nix the stove altogether so you could eat as soon as possible.
“I feel excellent about grilled cheese,” you said instead, gently tugging on one of the chairs at the small dining table. You sat cautiously on the edge of the seat. There were deep scratches gouged across the wooden tabletop. This was not typical wear and tear.
What on earth could have caused that? You wondered. Upon seeing the scratches, your over-active intuition strangely made you feel more at home. Apparently, there was more to this Logan guy than meets the eye.
He peeked at you from his peripheral vision, gauging your reaction to the gouges. You gave him a shrug. 
“Accidents happen,” you said, making yourself sink further back into the chair. You played it off as if the scratches were only a water ring made by an overly condensated glass sans coaster. Overcome with exhaustion and finally warming up, you decided to let yourself relax a little.
He smiled, like you had stumbled upon an inside joke he held only with himself. Though mostly humorous, the smile held a dash of contempt inside it.
“Yeah, somethin’ like that.”
Not knowing what else to say, you took in the rest of the apartment. The windows were covered with yellowing slatted blinds, chips and cracks scattered throughout. The checkered linoleum floor probably hadn’t seen a mop for months. You couldn’t judge him too harshly though. In fact, you weren’t in a place to judge him at all. He led you off the street with pure intentions and into a warm home. 
The delicious smell emanating from the stove curled its way to you, tugging at your already-growling stomach. Logan reached into the skillet and flipped the sandwich with his bare hand. It was not a delicate pinch at the corners and he didn’t even wince or make any indication that the sandwich was hot at all. Strange.
“How’d you do that?” Your curiosity got the better of you.
“Magic.”
“Magic isn’t real. C’mon, tell me how you did it,” you begged.
“How ‘bout this,” he started. “Let’s make a deal. You ask a question, I ask a question. A trade off.”
You weighed the pros and cons. If the only exchange for satiating your curiosity was him prying into your own life, you came to the conclusion that it would be worth it.
You realized you were desperate for somebody to want to care about you. All you had known for the past few years was solidarity and seclusion. You had been in a constant state of fight or flight mode ever since running away from your parentless home. You just wanted somebody to want to look after you again.
“Okay, deal.”
“Great. I’ll start.” He set the plated sandwich down in front of you and took the other chair at the table. It creaked as he sat, as if it were straining every splinter to carry his weight. He certainly had a sturdy frame, but he was not by any means a big man. Strange again.
“Thanks,” you finished. It came out flatly, but you were genuinely grateful.
“Y’r welcome, kid.”
Careful so as not to scarf it down too quickly, you held the golden, crispy sandwich delicately between your dirty fingers, pulling it apart. The hot, gooey insides webbed between the pieces. Logan watched you take the first bite, letting you savor the first real meal you’d had in who knows how long before he asked his first question. It was cheesy, savory bliss. You could have cried, it was so tasty. It trailed warmth down your torso as you ate, taking bigger and faster bites. Before you knew it, you were licking your greasy fingers clean.
“Want another?” Logan asked.
“Yes please.” You were still starving. “Does that count as your question?” 
He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Does that count as yours?” 
“Guess not.” You smiled back at him, sheepishly.
He took out two more pieces of bread and began on sandwich number two. You could tell he had done this before, taking care of young kids. He had a paternal instinct and it showed. He was slightly standoffish, but not so much that it was completely awkward. There was no ulterior motive behind his actions, you felt he just truly wanted to take care of you.
“‘Alright, bub. Why are y’on the street?”
You knew this question was coming, and yet your heart still skipped a beat, soaked with anxiety.
“I sort of ran away, but it’s not what you think.” You paused, seeing if he would interject. He didn’t make an attempt, so you continued. “I didn’t run away because I wanted to. I ran away because I had to. My parents disappeared and the police started coming around and I didn’t want to-”
“Hold on,” he cut you off. “Your parents disappeared and your bright idea was to run away? That’s probably the stupidest thing you coulda done.”
Embarrassment and annoyance prickled your cheeks. Logan was still a stranger to you, but you felt oddly compelled to defend your actions, to make him see your side.
“Yeah, well it’s better than being an orphan and forced into foster care. Placed with a family who couldn’t care less about you than the dirt on the ground!” You shot back.
The apartment was suddenly more than warm enough. It was almost sweltering. You twisted your shoulder out from under the strap of the backpack and shrugged off the blanket, letting it fall behind you. You felt a little dizzy as your heart pounded, loud against your chest. You were already weak from scraping together food all the time. Burning sweat began to bead against your hairline and coat your palms.
Logan turned his back to you, facing the stove. “Still seems stupid t’me. How long’ve ya been livin’ like this?” His voice was muffled, like cotton balls had been shoved in your ears. 
Suddenly, a chorus of pounding, pulsing sounds arose and started to drown out everything else. It surged to such a volume, you instinctually pressed your hands against your ears in an attempt to dampen it. It did nothing. The noise was inside your head. There was no stopping it. Your vision started to blur and you blinked hard, trying to rid the fuzz and dizziness with no avail. You opened your mouth to yell and felt the muscles in your throat move, but you couldn’t tell if any sound escaped. Your conscience was slipping, but the grip of the noise wouldn’t let you go. It was only getting louder, more painful. 
You must have made some kind of sound because a fuzzy, Logan-shaped form was moving toward you, seemingly in slow motion. You were slipping out of the seat in pain. He caught you in his muscled arms, right before your head hit the ground. He was yelling something at you, but you couldn’t make out what it was. His lips were moving desperately, his eyes frightened.
Logan was the last thing you saw before your mind surrendered to the stress of the noise, finally descending into unconsciousness.
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Your eyes tried to open, fluttering against the bright, white lights on the ceiling. It was too bright to open them fully, but you adjusted fairly quickly. The room was made of sleek metal with a circular door on the opposite wall. It wasn’t a hospital, but it had the feeling of one. It was more unfamiliar and eerily quiet aside from a monitor’s steady beeping. The bed you were laying in looked like it came straight out of an exam room. You looked down at yourself. A tube was sticking out of the crook of your elbow, drips of a translucent liquid sliding into your veins.
The pounding noise in your head had ebbed to a dull ache instead of the throbbing pulse it was before. How much time had passed between Logan’s kitchen and now? Where was he? Had he just abandoned you in this strange room by yourself? You felt your heartbeat quicken in anxiety and as it did, the ache grew stronger. There must be a connection between the two. You had so many questions and nobody was around to answer them.
Just as you were about to start freaking out, the round door opened with a swoosh, the panels disappearing into either side of the wall. You sat up, startled. An older bald man in a wheelchair, a smartly-dressed woman with deep red hair, and the slightly-more-familiar Logan came into the room. The pounding noise and your heartbeat slowed back to normal at the sight of him, but three more louder, of sync beats took its place. The noise got louder as they got closer. Wincing, you wanted to cover your ears, to prepare for the worst. You didn’t want to pass out again or have to endure the painful drumming against your head.
“Ah, welcome back to the world of the conscious,” the bald man said, getting closer to you. His physical voice could barely be heard above the noise, but it somehow reverberated in your mind. “You gave our Logan quite a scare. That is a very difficult thing to do.” There was a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips.
You looked to Logan. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, still in the same outfit you last saw him in. Dark denim, white undershirt, boots. Maybe hardly any time had passed at all.
“Thanks… what happened?” You asked the trio. Your voice was hoarse from sleep. You couldn’t tell how loud, or quiet, you were being.
The woman reached over to the side table and poured a glass of water for you. Her face was beautiful and kind. She smiled sweetly at you. You took the cool glass from her and let the water soothe your throat.
“Your mutation began to manifest and you passed out,” she explained. Her lips were moving, but like the man, her voice echoed in your head, quieting the thrumming in your ears. “We aren’t quite sure what power your mutation will present itself as yet, but whatever it is, we’re here to help you.”
You looked from her to Logan, confused. The slight scowl on his face wasn’t encouraging.
“Where am I?”
“My dear, you are at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. I am Professor Charles Xavier and this is Jean Grey. Logan very wisely brought you here last night,” the man in the wheelchair said. “To our lab.”
Your eyes flickered between the strangers. The familiar feeling crept back into your gut. Your intuition told you he was telling the truth.
“If you’ll let me,” he continued with a soft smile. “I would like to utilize my mutation for your benefit. Jean and I are telepaths. I can enter your mind which might help us deduce what exactly your mutation is.”
No wonder you could hear their voices echoing in your head over the clashing, thrumming rhythms. They were projecting them into your mind.
You must have looked uneasy, because Jean placed a hand on your gown-covered shoulder, attempting to reassure you.
“It doesn’t hurt, but you will feel his presence in your mind. We just want to help you,” she said.
Again, you looked to Logan, anxious for his reassurance. Upon catching your eyes, his expression softened and he nodded slightly, giving you the go-ahead to let them help you.
You fiddled with the top sheet, nervous. It crinkled under your touch. Only hours ago you had been trying to survive the freezing temperatures alone in the dark.
They were all looking at you, expectantly. Without Jean or the Professor in your mind, the volume of the beats returned, still discordant with one another.
“Okay,” you agreed, meekly. You did not want a repeat of what happened last night. The pain was too much to bear again.
You watched the Professor close his eyes. He knit his brows together, slightly, in concentration. There was a mental push in your mind, like somebody was knocking on the door, asking to be let in. You obliged. As he began combing through the files of your brain, searching for answers to whatever your new-found ‘mutation’ might hold, you noticed one of the rhythms sped up a hair quicker. Logan’s scowl returned, eyes laced with concern.
Jean was right, it didn’t hurt, but it did feel a bit like an intrusion. However, you knew it was all for your benefit and would be for the best in the long run. You kept your eyes on Charles Xavier the entire time, hoping your own concentration on him would be helpful in some way. After a few, long, minutes, the Professor retreated from your mind and opened his eyes again.
“Well, my dear, it seems you have a mental ability as well,” he began. “You have the ability to hear heartbeats that are in close proximity to yourself, and in turn deduce the intentions of another person.”
“That’s what the pounding is? Heartbeats?”
“You can hear all three of ours currently, correct?” he asked.
“Yes.” For some reason, it felt like you were violating their privacy. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and your hands returned to folding the sheets between your fingers.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed, you know. You’re special. Like us,” Jean said, smiling gently. She grabbed a metal clipboard with complicated-looking charts attached to it, flipping over the pages until she found the form she was looking for. She took the pen from behind her ear and jotted something down. You assumed it was a description of your ‘mutation’, or ‘power’, or whatever they call it.
“Why is this happening to me?” You asked quietly into the air, to nobody in particular. Your eyes were still trained on your nervous fingers. The burning in your face grew stronger, an angry red. Hot tears stung your waterline and the tip of your nose prickled with emotion.
Logan unfolded his arms, causing you to watch him through tear-filled vision cross the room and sit on the edge of your unfamiliar bed. His heartbeat grew louder as he got closer. You could see his lips moving, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. He looked at you expectantly, but all you could do was look at the Professor, silently asking for help. You watched him say something to Logan, probably telling him you couldn’t hear anything over the constant noise in your mind. The Professor closed his eyes again and again, the rhythms quieted to a hush. You looked back to Logan, the Professor still concentrating.
“You’re a mutant, kid. Simple as that,” he said, eyes full of tender but resolved concern. “But ‘m gonna take care of ya. Make sure y’r comfortable here.”
“H-here?” Your teary eyes went wide, your own heart speeding up anxiously. 
“Yeah, you’re gonna attend the school here with Jean an’ the Professor an’ me. You’ll learn how’da not let your power control you.”
“You’re a mutant too?”
“Especially him,” Jean cut in.
Logan gave her an irritated look, but raised both fists in front of his face. In a split second, long, metal claws shot out from between his knuckles into the open. You gasped. He carefully brought them down, letting you inspect them. You lightly pressed a delicate finger against the tip of one of the claws. It was freezing cold and razor sharp. A scarlet drop of blood fell from your fingerprint, staining the sterile sheet. He retracted the claws and you watched as the slits quickly stitched themselves back together.
It suddenly all became too much. The tears involuntarily spilled down your pink cheeks, overcome with the developments. Mutations, telepaths, claws … nothing made sense anymore. 
The quiet sobs wracked your small frame and as the emotions overtook you, the thrumming rhythms returned, making it all so much worse. Logan pulled you into his arms in a tight hug, pressing your head to his chest. His loud heartbeat was steady and strong. Reliable and solid. It overpowered everybody else’s rhythms, drowning them out. He let your tears soak through his once-pristine undershirt as you processed everything, his thumbs smoothing circles against your covered shoulder blades. You tried to focus on his grounding touch, tried to bring the tears to a halt. After what felt like an eternity, they finally slowed.
Finally, you pulled away from him. His heartbeat was still the only one you could hear. You looked around the metal room, swiping at your eyes. It was empty except for you and Logan. Jean and the Professor must have left some time ago, but you hadn’t heard their heartbeats soften.
He let go of you completely and picked up the chart Jean had been holding. He quickly scribbled something and flipped it to face you. ‘Feel better?’ he wrote.
You smiled and nodded, almost laughing at his solution to communication.
“Thank you, Logan,” you said. He only smiled in response, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “Now what?”
He held up a finger, asking for a moment, and reached toward the side table. He picked up a device that looked like a small disk, a couple inches thick. Pulling on either side revealed a metal wire that retracted back into the device when the disks were brought together again. The insides of the disks had padding in them. He brought it around behind your head and placed either end over your ears. 
Silence. Quiet. Peace.
You let out a sigh of relief. Logan’s pounding heartbeat was brought down to a manageable pulse. Even the rushing sound of the air conditioner and low hum of the electricity flowing through the lightbulbs couldn’t be heard anymore.
“Better?” He asked. 
You heard him! His voice was no longer fighting to be heard amongst the drum of his heartbeat. It was loud and clear. You burst into a smile.
“Yes,” you said, reaching back across the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck enthusiastically. He almost lost his balance against your grateful hug.
“C’mon, let’s go find Charles. Y’r gonna love it here.”
You let Logan lead you out of the lab and into the unknown for the second time in twenty-four hours. But this time it was different. You now knew that the trusting, gut-feeling you had about him was your mutation sensing his intentions all along. You knew he was going to make sure you were taken care of and continue to do so long into the future. It’s just the kind of man he is. The caregiver, the protector. He’s Logan.
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nayziiz · 5 months
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Dressing Room | CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader (you/her/she)
Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!
Masterlist
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She had been stressing about the outfit from the moment she laid eyes on it in the store. It wasn't just any outfit; it was her armour, her first line of defence in the battlefield of first impressions. Today was no ordinary day; it was the day of her most crucial job interview yet. As she stood in front of the mirror in the dressing room, scrutinising every detail, her mind raced with thoughts of the looming consequences of failure.
The stakes were high. Failure meant more than just a missed opportunity; it meant facing the grim reality of having to pack her bags and move back home. The mere thought sent shivers down her spine. Moving back home would feel like admitting defeat, like surrendering to the expectations and doubts of her parents.
Her parents never understood her passion for art, always questioning why she didn't pursue a more "practical" career path like medicine or law. But she couldn't deny her calling, couldn't ignore the fire that burned within her to create, to express herself through her art. Yet, with each rejection letter and failed interview, their voices grew louder, their doubts echoing in her mind.
Her heart raced as she realised the gravity of the situation. It was a last-minute interview, sprung upon her with little warning or time to prepare. As she frantically rummaged through her closet, her hands grazed over worn-out shirts and faded jeans, none of which felt suitable for the occasion.
Her friend, Carla, ever the optimist, had tried to reassure her, insisting that she had plenty of great options. But to her, it felt like every garment she owned had suddenly lost its appeal, leaving her feeling utterly unprepared and vulnerable.
Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself of all the hours she had poured into preparing for this moment, the countless nights spent honing her skills and perfecting her portfolio. She couldn't let it all go to waste now.
As she stepped out of the dressing room, her heart pounded with nervous anticipation. She had meticulously chosen her outfit—a black skirt that reached below her knees, paired with a dark green cropped blouse that accentuated her slender frame. Yet, as she emerged into the bustling store, her eyes scanned the crowd in search of her friend, only to find empty space where her reassuring presence should have been.
A pang of anxiety surged through her as she realised she was on her own, left to navigate this pivotal moment without the comfort of her friend's guidance. She hesitated for a moment, feeling exposed and vulnerable under the gaze of strangers.
As Charles walked by, his attention was suddenly arrested by her presence. There she stood, amidst the sea of shoppers, a striking figure that seemed to transcend the ordinary. His gaze lingered on her, drawn irresistibly to the effortless elegance with which she carried herself.
In that moment, she seemed almost ethereal, like a muse summoned from the depths of his imagination. Her allure was undeniable, a magnetic pull that left him momentarily breathless.
As he glanced at her, a flicker of recognition ignited within him. It wasn't just her physical beauty that struck a chord; it was the familiarity of her presence, a sense of déjà vu that whispered of shared moments through the lens of social media.
With a sudden surge of realisation, he recalled the countless hours he had spent scrolling through her Instagram art profile, marvelling at the brilliance of her creations. Each painting had captured his imagination, drawing him into a world of colour and emotion that he had never experienced before.
Her talent had left an indelible mark on him, sparking a sense of awe and admiration that transcended the digital divide. And now, here she was, standing before him in the flesh, her artistry radiating from every pore.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he contemplated the serendipity of their encounter. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that he would come face to face with the artist whose work had captivated his heart.
“The green looks lovely on you,” he commented, his voice carrying a gentle sincerity as he casually approached the dressing room area, feigning interest in trying on something himself.
His words were offered with a genuine warmth, a subtle acknowledgment of her choice in attire and an admiration for how it complemented her complexion. Though it was a simple remark, it carried a weight of appreciation, a recognition of her beauty that went beyond the surface.
As he glanced in her direction, he couldn't help but notice the way her eyes sparkled with gratitude, a soft blush dusting her cheeks at the unexpected compliment. It was a fleeting moment, yet one that seemed to linger in the air, charged with a quiet intensity.
“Thank you. I'm actually struggling to find something to wear,” she sighed, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration as she confided in him.
Her words carried a vulnerability that resonated with him, prompting him to pause and offer her a sympathetic smile. He could sense the weight of her uncertainty, the pressure of wanting to make a good impression weighing heavily on her shoulders.
“I know the feeling,” he replied with a reassuring nod, his tone gentle and understanding. “Sometimes, it's like nothing in the store quite matches what we have in mind, right?”
He offered her a moment of solidarity, a shared understanding born from his own experiences of sifting through racks of clothes in search of the perfect ensemble. In that moment, they were united by a common struggle, bonded by the shared quest for sartorial satisfaction.
But beneath the surface, there was also a flicker of admiration for her honesty, for her willingness to let down her guard and share her concerns with a stranger. It was a small gesture, yet one that spoke volumes about her character—a testament to her authenticity and openness.
“Special occasion?” He wondered aloud, his curiosity piqued by her choice of attire.
“A job interview at a local art museum,” she answered, a slight blush gracing her cheeks as she revealed the reason behind her carefully selected outfit.
He couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for her as she spoke. The notion of interviewing for a position at an art museum seemed to perfectly align with her elegant demeanour and artistic sensibility.
“Wow, that sounds like a fantastic opportunity,” he remarked, genuine enthusiasm colouring his tone.
As she smiled in response to his encouragement, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride, knowing that he had played a small part in bolstering her confidence for the interview ahead.
“If only I could dress the part, it would help,” she chuckled half-heartedly, a hint of resignation underlying her words. Charles nodded in understanding, his mind already racing with ideas.
“I could help? I don't know much about fashion, but I have an interest in art. No reason why the two shouldn't mesh,” he suggested, a glimmer of excitement dancing in his eyes.
“I've never thought of it like that. Please, I would appreciate it,” she agreed, a grateful smile lighting up her features.
“Wonderful. I'm Charles, by the way,” he introduced himself, extending his hand in a gesture of friendship.
“I'm y/n,” she responded, returning the handshake with a warm smile.
“Nice to meet you, y/n. Let me grab some stuff and then you can change into what you like,” Charles suggested, his eagerness evident as he disappeared into the store once again.
As she nodded in agreement, she couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within her. Here was someone who not only understood her passion for art but was also willing to lend a helping hand in a realm where she felt less confident.
After a few minutes, Charles returned, his arms laden with an assortment of clothing—dresses in vibrant hues, colourful blouses, bright pants, jackets adorned with eye-catching patterns, and more. Each piece seemed to radiate with its own unique personality, a reflection of Charles's eclectic taste and artistic sensibility.
“Here we go,” Charles exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he laid out the garments before her. “Feel free to try on anything that catches your eye. And don't worry about being adventurous—sometimes, the boldest choices can make the strongest statements.”
Grateful for his encouragement, she surveyed the array of options before her, her heart fluttering with anticipation. With Charles's guidance and support, she felt emboldened to explore new avenues of style and self-expression, eager to see where this collaboration would take her.
As she disappeared behind the velvet curtain to try on the flowy blouse and loose-fit black pants, Charles settled into a nearby chair, pulling out his phone to occupy himself while he waited.
“What museum did you say it was?” He asked, his curiosity piqued as he glanced up from his phone.
“Villa Polomo,” came her response from behind the curtain, her voice slightly muffled but still audible.
Charles nodded thoughtfully, his mind racing with thoughts of the renowned museum. Villa Polomo was not just any museum—it was a bastion of culture and creativity, a place where artists and art enthusiasts alike came together to celebrate the beauty of human expression.
And now, here she was, on the brink of potentially joining the ranks of those who had left their mark on Villa Polomo's storied halls. The thought filled Charles with a sense of pride, knowing that he had played a small part in helping her prepare for this momentous occasion.
With a sense of determination, Charles quickly composed a message to the head curator of Villa Polomo, a longtime acquaintance with whom he had forged a strong rapport over the years.
“Hey, it's Charles. Hope you're doing well. I wanted to tell you about a talented artist named y/n who's interviewing for a position at the museum. Her work is truly exceptional, and I thought she'd be a fantastic addition to your team. Keep an eye out for her application—you won't be disappointed.”
As he hit send, Charles couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. He knew that y/n had the talent and the drive to succeed on her own merit, but he also wanted to do everything in his power to ensure that her art found its rightful place within the hallowed halls of Villa Polomo.
And as he waited for a response from the head curator, Charles couldn't shake the feeling that he was on the cusp of witnessing something truly special—an artist's journey from humble beginnings to the pinnacle of success, with Villa Polomo serving as the ultimate canvas for her boundless creativity.
As Carla returned to the dressing room area, her steps faltered slightly upon seeing Charles seated nearby. However, any hesitation melted away as y/n's voice floated from behind the curtain.
“I quite like this blouse, Charles,” y/n exclaimed, her tone filled with enthusiasm. “Maybe I need to get a different colour pants to match the blouse.”
Carla's lips curved into a smile as she listened to their exchange, her presence adding a touch of camaraderie to the moment. A few seconds later, y/n emerged from behind the curtain, and the sight before them was nothing short of breathtaking. The flowy blouse draped elegantly over her frame, its vibrant hue perfectly complementing her complexion. Paired with the loose-fit black pants, she looked like a vision of effortless beauty—a dream brought to life.
Carla's eyes widened in admiration as she took in y/n's transformed appearance.
“Wow, you look amazing,” she exclaimed, genuine awe colouring her voice.Charles couldn't help but nod in agreement, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Absolutely stunning,” he chimed in, his words infused with genuine admiration.
“Where were you?” y/n inquired as Carla returned to their midst.
“I had to take a call, but it seems you were in capable hands. I'm Carla,” she explained, her tone warm and friendly. Charles nodded in acknowledgment, extending his hand to shake Carla's.
“Charles, and it's only been a pleasure helping out,” he replied with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting the genuine enjoyment he had found in assisting y/n with her outfit selection.
Carla returned the smile, a sense of gratitude evident in her expression.
As Charles excused himself and disappeared into the store floor, Carla's observant gaze lingered on y/n, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“He was cute!” Carla observed with a knowing grin. “Did you get his number?”
Y/n's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she shook her head adamantly.
“No!” She argued, though a part of her couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that Charles's presence had stirred within her.
Unbeknownst to her, Charles was already plotting his next move, determined to see her again, especially at Villa Polomo in Monaco. With a sense of purpose driving him forward, he set his plan into motion, knowing that their paths were destined to cross once more.
And as y/n and Carla continued their conversation, unaware of the role fate had yet to play in their lives, Charles remained steadfast in his resolve, eager to seize the opportunity to reconnect with y/n and perhaps, pave the way for a future filled with endless possibilities.
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