#(i had lots fun here but i need a fresh start!)

[overnightheartbeats]

Her smile couldn't be contained watching as he stood centimeters from her. Hiding how she felt and what she anticipated was not possible in any way or form. Laurel's eyes fluttered shut upon feeling those soft, lovely lips she had been hooked on from the start. "High praise, and you say I'm the one with the flirting skills," she teased, her hands cupping his face before pulling him in for a kiss of her own. The last two have been initiated by him, it was high time she give one to him. It's all she'd been thinking about for the last two weeks. "Hey, that night was great. No apology needed. I understand family, I just got it all mixed up. That's so sweet, being so close to your little sister." She zipped up her lips, "You're a great brother, and don't worry, I'll keep your secret." He had mentioned that last time, with that same sad tone. Chicago really was home, it seemed. "Well, for what it's worth, Austin is not that bad. It grows on you for sure, but don't say goodbye to Chicago. You never know where life could take you." Laurel was giddy at the thought of him meeting Julia and Aaron. Julia will be thrilled, especially when she was already such a big fan. "Wait, that's great! I love it, I'll let them know meeting you has made it to the itinerary."

It hadn't occurred to her that her answers had a deeper meaning somewhere in there, but she had said she was an open book. "I'll hold you to that," she said with a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. His question had thrown her off for a second. "Yeah. My mom, when she was still around. She was always going on and on about being a bit much, which is fine. It makes sense, I suppose. It helped me learned to tone it down." Though, she supposed toning it down was debatable. "Really? You'd learn with me. That would be so much fun, and we'd get a new skill out of it. Hopefully, some good food too." The thought was intriguing - her mind already trying to think of how could they make this work. Maybe borrowing her dad's kitchen, because the communal kitchen in the dorm buildings wouldn't cut it. "True, but it's all you at the end of the day. Pretty green eyes," and just like that - new nickname unlocked.

Laurel happily listened to him talk about his family. Usually, the family talk bummed her out, only reminding her of the odd mess she had. But, hearing him was a breath of fresh air. His family just sounded so sweet, full of love. Hearing that kind of love envelop him comforted her, especially when she thought back to the melancholy in his tone now. "Fooled me, or drew me in?" Wasn't it all about perspective? "Both of them like dancing, sounds like I need to thank them for their hard work teaching you. So, you're a snow over heat kind of guy?" Yet, he ended up here. How amusing. "That sounds so relaxing, cabin for holidays. You'll have to let me know how it goes. To Aspen? Unfortunately, no because you make it sound so fun. When we did vacations, my mom was always picking the places, and it was New York or Paris. I was also a kid, so it was a lot of following her around during shopping trips and then spending time with some random caretaker while they went out. Once it became my dad and I, then we tried visiting the Grand Canyon and sprained his ankle, so vacation cut short. But, his job keeps him busy too, so vacations are not too fun." He did try though, and that effort was everything to her. "Oh, true. Nerdy can be hot though, still doesn't matter if it's others' favorite hobby. Just yours. A self-help book, to teach others to flirt with you? No, thank you. I'll politely decline," she joked with a wink in his direction.

Something in common made her feel excited, eager to discover what else they could have in common. The possibilities seemed endless, which only made it better. "Random hobbies, huh? I mean, I'll try anything once really," that was said with a shrug. Her curiosity had a tendency to lead her to the most odd roads. "Are you trying to test my knowledge? Maybe so, or maybe I don't, but I could just throw random moves together and you wouldn't even know the difference. I'd have to dig the pom poms out of retirement," she laughed at the thought, though her attention was drawn back to his words. Laurel had never thought of silence that way, but there was no way to say that without it sounding pitiful. "The first one sounds familiar, but I guess I haven't had much of that second option. It could also be because I can never be quiet." Deflecting with jokes, a fine option. "You are just checking off all my boxes - cooking classes and stargazing, I am too lucky. I will be taking you up on that offer! I don't need the facts, just the company." His company, more specifically. "Yes, sounds like a plan. I still need to see these awesome blankets you hyped up earlier." They'd covered a decent amount of things already in the getting to know you trail, but she was quick to think of other things. "Okay, favorite color and what's one place, anywhere in the world, that you've always wanted to visit?"

Eli smiled and sighed as he chewed his lip before getting up off the chair to be centimeters away from her face. That almost mischievous childlike smile displayed as he brought her chin up with his fingertip and pressed a fleeting but warm kiss on her soft plump lips. "I don't think kissing you would ever disappoint me." He situated himself back on his chair and wrapped his ankles around the legs of the seat. "The saddle night was a good day. I'm sorry it got cut short. My little sister needed me and if you ever meet her, you'd see why. She and I are really close. She's my best friend. Just don't tell my brother and sister," he chuckled making his eyebrows crease. "Our little secret." The thought had crossed his mind once but ended up deciding that it was best if he didn't. "I wanted to but I think I'm going to stay or find some place to settle that would still be a flight away from them. I think I exhausted my time in Chicago." A sort of melancholy took over his voice saying that out loud. Her excitement was contagious and it made him nod. "I'd love to meet your best friends. That's a genuine feeling because I don't normally like to meet people." The bribery bit had him smile at her. He did wonder what she'd have up her sleeve.

"Don't worry about that. I don't deem you too much. Has anyone ever deemed you to be too much?" His curiosity had gotten him to ask the question. Otherwise he didn't think she'd have hesitancy over being known. "Realism isn't a bad thing. Though it's good to have a balance." he hummed and nodded. "We can learn together. I know a few things but the kitchen isn't really my forte. Eating is though. I wouldn't mind learning together and coming up with different recipes to try." It was a nice thought. Laurel and him in the kitchen making something and having fun. Not paying too much attention to the exact recipe just winging it at times. He smiled as they fluttered one quick time and shook his head. "I'll proudly take the title then. I don't know who to thank. Mom or dad could have had green eyes. Who knows."

"I fooled you with my subpar dancing skills. Mama P used to love to be twirled so every chance we got we used to twirl her. So she'd take us around the kitchen to dance. It was Papa P who used to teach us how to lead." The last time he skiied was last Christmas. The last holiday that was normal. "Not since last year. It was a family trip. I've got a picture of that time in my dorm. I love the snow. It's a magical place and would love to go back. Maybe rent a cabin and spend the holidays there." A dream he knew that couldn't be made reality since he didn't have the funds to actually do it. At least not yet. "Have you ever been?" He shrugged his shoulders and cleared his throat. "Some people deem readers dorky and nerdy. So, it is not everyone's favorite hobby." She was cute when she laughed and her eyes sparkled with that joy. "It has worked. You have charmed me. Maybe now you should write a self help book on how to flirt the right amount."

"A one person type huh? Seems like we've got that in common." The smile he threw her was one that was half amused. "Cheerleading and tennis? Consider me more than intrigued. Do you still remember your cheer routine?" He'd wait until later to let her know he was one of the few cheer guys at the bottom of the pyramid. She didn't need to know that right now. "Silence isn't all bad. It depends on the person you're with. If they're using silence as a means for punishment then yeah that is not good. But if you're sitting in silence with someone who makes it safe and warm then you'd find it's also very fun. As for stargazing we should go sometime? I can't say I'll be full of facts but maybe I'll end up surprising you." Just then their food arrived and he grabbed it. "Shall we head back to the room?"

[edgymuses-a]

this blog is now achieved and will be moved here:

@edgymuses

[hedgehog-moss]

Last time I went to the village to buy bread I saw a woman in the street who was dressed like a 19th-century peasant, complete with a thick old-timey accent with dialect words no one uses anymore—she was telling a little group of people to follow her so of course I had to drop everything and follow her too.

And it turned out she was a theatre actress who has read a lot of local archives in libraries and town halls, and offered her services to organise guided tours of various villages to tell people about local history in a fun way, by playing characters who lived here in the Middle Ages, the 19th century, or WWII. It's such a cool idea! I talked to her for a bit after the visit and she said she wasn't sure it'd work / attract enough people, but she had groups of tourists + local families show up for the visit every week, in every village where she did this, so she think she'll be hired again next summer.

When I joined their group she was talking about WWII, and how my & other nearby villages were known by the Nazis and Vichy as a hotbed of terrorists, with some Gestapo officers killed in bomb attacks. (In retaliation the Nazis eventually rounded up 100+ locals and deported them to camps, as well as shooting a few.) I was mostly familiar with WWII anecdotes from the North-East, where my grandparents lived during the war, and I found it funny how different they sounded—my grandfather made Resistance activities sound well-planned and careful (espionage, sabotage, underground presses, infiltrating railway services etc) while oral histories around here make them sound a lot more spontaneous and—handcrafted? like "Emile brought what we needed for the bomb in his wheelbarrow hidden under a layer of straw and we exploded 2 Nazis."

We then went to visit the former girls' school, and I learnt a lot about my country's history of education for girls! Also it was really sweet because there was an old lady in our group who had attended this school as a child and had lots of school memories to share. Most of them were very wholesome, until eventually our tour guide went "Surely you also have some School Mischief to tell us about" and the old woman at first was like no no no no, I was a good girl. And then she conceded that when she had to sort lentils for the nuns' dinner and she resented one of them for berating her in class, she'd do a shit job on purpose and leave some little stones in the lentils.

Then our last step was the fairground where the town fair was (and is still) held, and our tour guide told us little 19th-century anecdotes (in-character, more like acting them out) that she'd found in old postcards and letters in the archives—how the town fair was where you'd go for your dentist appointment (i.e. to have your bad teeth pulled with pliers with no pain medicine) and to get any object repaired, like damaged pans or clogs; how there were dancing bears and performing monkeys; how one year the merchant who sold linen for women's trousseaus had her linen display trampled "by 300 cows" (might have been an exaggeration) and she hit the cow herder and it started a massive brawl.

My favourite anecdote was how back in the 1800s the local innkeeper was frustrated by the fact that the nearest village is just 10km away, and people who came to the fair often decided to go spend the night there so their journey back the next day would be less long, and so he started to tell them about the beast that lives under the bridge between the two villages. Travellers say horses go mad when they see it and just jump into the water. Some say the beast has dug up corpses from the cemetery because it likes human flesh, though of course it prefers it fresh. I'm now convinced half of local legends were single-handedly created by business savvy innkeepers determined to get more customers than the rival inn 10km away.

I'm sad I only learnt about these visits at the end of summer when they're coming to an end, but I'll definitely follow this woman around again if she returns with more stories next year!

[slutofpsh]

strip for me.

part four

pairings: hyungline x reader

synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 8.4k

warnings: heavy smut, minors dni, fivesome, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.

note: this is not the end for strip for me so calm down. we have more to come. the next part will be heeseung’s solo part. anyway, i know it took time so please enjoy it. reblogs and replies are highly encouraged. this is not proof read so excuse the errors for now. let me know your thoughts by sending me asks. thank you so much.

part one; two; three

slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.

“we’re going to have so much fun...” jake stated meaningfully before winking at you.

your steps halt from approaching the chair they reserved for you. their eyes are fully focused that despite the teacher’s continuous rambling about the project, they don’t give her any attention.

“you can sit here, doll.” and sunghoon drags the chair near him then taps it once before flashing you a soft smile, his fangs showing.

“what happened to the uniform i lend you?” he sounds a little upset while looking at your fresh polo. heeseung got you a new one that fits you perfectly.

you blushed, “i p-put it on my locker. i will wash it first then give it back to you. thank you for let me borrow it.”

he smirks, “nah, you can keep it.”

jake and jay stared at him with confusion. they can clearly remember how bad his mood was these past few days, now he’s acting like as if he’s the happiest man that walked on earth. it’s just so odd.

you obliged and sat beside sunghoon while he stare at you, eyes almost forming heart. heeseung scoffs and took off his coat then placed it on your lap since you’re wearing a skirt. a bit too short from his liking, to be specific.

with blushing cheeks, you thanked him silently.

“did i miss anything?” jake asks, confused.

jay furrowed his brows and stared at his two other friends. heeseung met his eyes and cleared his throat before sitting straight. sunghoon seemed unbothered, eyes still fixed at you with a grin on his handsome face.

“w-why?” you asked him, feeling slightly uneasy because of how he’s not taking his eyes off from you.

“nothing, you look pretty.” he mumbled so naturally before dragging your chair even closer. he did it with so much ease, he’s so strong.

you glanced away, trying hard to ignore his heated gaze. jake’s watching all of these with his two eyes without blinking. a hint of confusion and a mix of jealousy flickers inside him.

“the fuck is going on?” he stated with so much sarcasm.

if jay can shut his mouth and ignore it, well definitely not jake. he has a lot of questions inside his mind. why are his friends acting like this? and most of all, why the fuck aren’t you like that to him?

“let’s just discuss the project.” heeseung blurted out, blocking any chances to be asked by jake.

he was about to complain more, wanting to dig about this situation deeper, but stopped himself. with clenched jaw, he rests his back on his chair then glanced at your lowered head.

he scoffed, “sweetheart, i’m a little jealous. you need to make it up to me.” he stated that made your cheeks blush, ears turning red.

sunghoon rolls his eyes and impatiently taps the table, “let’s start!”

and with that, heeseung then discusses the possible topics you can research for this project. your mouth slightly gaps at how he was able to keep up with what the teacher was saying when you clearly saw him focusing on you moments ago.

it went on, its just jay who listens and you, slightly. jake and sunghoon didn’t even tries to act that they are serious to this project, one plays through his phone, the other had his head slumped over the desk. sunghoon’s hand lays on yours casually, its been like that ever since he lowered his head to sleep.

jake whined when he loses the round and glances at your direction. he smirks and winks at you which made you blush. he giggles and eyes unconsciously landed on sunghoon’s hand.

his smirk faltered and childishly removes it. jay notices and scoffed before writing down on his notes. jake then grabs your hand to intertwin your fingers together, a satisfied smile plastering his handsome face.

heeseung rolls his eyes at it then continued talking about the project that the other two boys obviously doesn’t care about.

“we’ll be doing our project on our house later.” heeseung said as a last statement to wrap your small meeting.

your head perks and back straightened at what he just said. his eyes caught you right away, attentive of you.

“can we just d-do it here at school?” you suggested since doing it on their house doesn’t sit right for you.

one of his eyebrow arches upwards, “do you have any problem doing it in mine?” he asks using a serious tone.

your lips slightly trembles and glances at jake on your side when he gradually took your hand on his lips to place a gentle kiss.

“u-uhm, i can’t go h-home late. my mom will be so worried.” you tried to reason out.

it was partly true as she was used of you coming home early. heeseung’s house is pretty far from your school and so it will take time to go home. besides, you have no problem asking your mom to pick you up by the school gate, but it will definitely raise curiosity if you suddenly ask her to pick you up at a random house.

his head tilts, “leave that one to me.” he stated and then stood up to leave the circle.

“b-but—” you are held down by jake, yanking your arms to prevent you from standing up and follow heeseung.

jay stood up then taps sunghoon on the shoulder to wake him up.

“no buts, sweetheart.” and jake leans to give you a swift kiss on the cheek then leave as well.

your eyes widen and roamed around to check if somebody saw. they’re pretty busy discussing about the project, seems like your group was the first one to finish.

a large hand resting at the small of your back is what snaps you back to your senses. he gently caress it up and down then you look over your shoulder to face sunghoon.

his eyes squints a bit, obvious that he just got awoken from a nap. “something wrong?” he asks.

you shake your head lightly and he just stares for a while before nodding his head. he stood up and guided you to go back to your chair as well.

the period ended and after the whole class thanked the teacher and bid her good-bye, she walks out of the room. after feeling the need to use the bathroom, you headed out as well.

jake’s eyes follows you and when you’re out of his sight already, he swat sunghoon’s shoulder.

“the fuck is your problem?” he hissed at him, his brows drawned closer to each other and he sets his phone down like he’s ready to punch jake right away.

“my problem? what is your problem?” jake hisses back. “why are you suddenly acting like a fucking loser in front of y/n?”

jay smirks and just listens. heeseung watches too, a ghost of a smile playing over his lips.

sunghoon’s forehead slowly loses it crease then he acts innocent before glancing back at his phone. jake almost threw his notebook at him. he can’t believe it was that fast to calm him down. by the mere mention of your name.

“what do you mean? no i’m not.”

“here you go, baby. you can sit here, doll.” jake mimics him exaggeratedly. jay laughs at how he mirrored sunghoon while the latter clenches his jaw.

it was his turn to push jake’s shoulder. “i don’t talk that way!” he says, defensive.

“you actually do, dude.” jay fires back while heeseung just laughs because of it.

“whatever.” he mumbled, ears turning red.

jake rolls his eyes, “what the fuck happened? i thought we will punish her?” and his gaze moves from sunghoon towards heeseung.

heeseung straightens his back and glances away, totally guilty of it. jake just couldn’t believe it. these two were the ones so heated up when one of their classmates reported you meeting beomgyu up at the end aisles of the library. they were so hyped up on punishing you and then they’re acting like this?

“i fucking resisted dicking her down, man!” jake complained.

“nobody told you to do that.” heeseung shrugs his shoulder off that made jake clench his jaw, pissed off.

well, the older one was right. they never agreed on anything but to imply punishment. but that was jake’s punishment for you. that was his way to let you know that he’s mad and upset. you always knew how much he couldn’t get enough of you and how he would bury his dick inside you any chances he gets.

“jake’s right. i declined her orgasms to make a point.” jay stated, looking a bit upset as well.

the boys glances at him with furrow brows, “you did what?” jake asks in disbelief.

jay shrugs his shoulder, “you know how much i love seeing her get off. its always her pleasure over mine. i needed to send her a message.”

heeseung sighs and sunghoon was so ready to hold his collar right there and then.

“dude what the fuck? she must’ve felt so frustrated and bad!” he hissed at his friend.

now, jake’s pissed off eyes darted back at him. he pushes his friend to sit back properly.

“calm down lover boy, i’m not yet done with you.” he fired at him.

sunghoon lets out a strained sigh, completely done with jake targeting him nonstop.

“come on, i lost control too you know? but what am i suppose to do when she said she’s sorry? of course i couldn’t help it.” sunghoon ranted that made the three boys around him furrow their brows.

the frown on jake’s face deepens as jay and heeseung slightly loses their minds. they contemplates and wonders if they heard that right.

“what did you say?” heeseung fires at sunghoon that made him confused. the other two boys kept their mouth shut, jaw clenched.

“she said sorry.”

they were silenced when sunghoon repeated it for them to hear it clearly. jake was the first one to react as he scoffed and heaved a sigh to calm himself down.

“that’s it, you’ll be the last one to fuck her later.” jake stated, a bit (totally) pissed.

sunghoon thick brows furrowed now, “what? that’s unfair! when did we decided that?” his head cranes to the oldest, trying to gain alliance. after-all, heeseung is in charge of equality and fairness.

but to his surprise, the older one has his brows hardly furrowed as well. his eyes looking serious and are piercing right at him.

“i agree with jake.” jay says casually that made sunghoon complain even more.

“hyung?” sunghoon calls out heeseung because this is the perfect timing to step in and break this shit going on.

“sunghoon will be the last one to touch her then?”

to his dismay, its suddenly apppointed that he will sit back and watch while his three friends devour you. it will be torturous, but its better that than not having you later. he curses and just slumped his head over the table to distract himself with a good nap.

“fucking fuck.” jake curses, still pissed.

jay claps his shoulder, “calm down. i’m afraid you’ll piss your pants sooner or later.” he joked that only made him even more pissed.

he pushes his hands away, “shut up. i’ll surely get even later with y/n. she can’t do that.”

“hey, don’t be too carried away. you’ll scare her.” jay warns him before glancing to the older guy, “right, hyung?”

heeseung was silent before he lets out a heavy sigh. “no, i agree with jake.” he shut his eyes and massages his temple a bit.

“we need to teach her a lesson. she can’t have her favorite or it will ruin us all.”

on the other hand, you’re inside the girl’s bathroom and washing your hands when (name) walks in together with her minions. she’s one of the popular girls in your class. very pretty and rich.

her mean eyes darted right at you. it screams danger so you glanced away from her and just focuses on your hand.

she walks closer and stopped beside you.

“who can expect that the quiet girl in class can be such a cunt?” her words made your brows furrow.

“excuse me?” you’re taken aback with how aggressive she is. it was so unexpected. she never approaches or talk to you then suddenly she’s going in this hard?

the response obviously made her even more mad. she raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. one glance to her minions and they went on both of your sides, cornering you. they’re giggling like hyenas.

“ooh, look at you acting all brave just because you think those boys are interested in you?” the bitterness lingers over your tone.

your brows narrowed in confusion as to what she’s talking about. you wondered more, then realization finally hits you like a big truck. boys... heeseung and his friends?

you glanced at her, “i don’t know what you m-mean.”

oh no. you stuttered. and that only mean one thing. that you’re lying and you know you are. because you out of all people, knows what she means.

you thought you’re being slick on hiding what’s going on between you and those boys, but definitely you’re wrong. you couldn’t help, but to blame it on them as they’re the ones being so bold about it. also because they’re really the one should be blame for it.

she lets out a loud sarcastic laugh, her eyes oozing with anger. she pushes your shoulder off. “oh fuck you! i’m not dumb!”

you shut your eyes and was about to walk away when her minions hold you down.

“let me go!” you tried squirming, freeing yourself which you failed miserably.

one of them curses at you and even elbowed your side. you grunted and folds because of the pain. (name) then walks closer and yanked your arm so you can face her.

“bitch! whore!” and she started to be physical, slapping you left and right.

“p-please, stop...” you begged which they ignored completely. she just continued hurting you and her friends hold you to prevent any resistance.

“you think they really like you? think again bitch!” she pulls your hair hardly making you face upwards. when your tear stained eyes met her arrogant ones, she smirks.

“for them you’re just a toy they will play with until they’re sick and tired of you.” and after that one last sentence she pushed you hard to the floor.

her friends laughed so hard while you have yourself slumped across the cold concrete. tears streaming down your face.

“let’s go girls. let’s leave that slut alone.”

you cried, feeling your face hurting and some other places in your body. but that’s not what causing your tears to flow nonstop. its what (name) said that had a big blow on you.

what she says was partly right. you have no idea what those boys want from you and base on how they treats you is similar to what she implied. a toy. that’s all you are for them. and that hurts you so much.

“y/n...” you snapped back to reality when you heard a faint call on your name.

“h-huh?” when you lift your head, you’re met with jay’s furrowed brows. his eyes scanning yours with gentle look on it.

heeseung stands a few feet away with jake. your hand sways that caught your attention, even before you can glance at the side, sunghoon’s face came into your view.

his brows folded in a worried way, “are you all right, doll?” and you can feel him squeeze your hand slightly.

“y-yes.”

he pursed his lips and scanned his eyes over your pretty face. his other free hand have your things. jake shows a displeased expression then walked towards your direction.

“give her some space. you’re crowding her.” he says, interrupting and even pushed sunghoon away from you.

hoon’s hand detached from holding yours that pissed him off a little. his eyes shooting glares at jake when he grab your wrist and started guiding you towards the car that just parked beside heeseung.

heeseung opened the door to the passenger seat when you’re near enough. he tilt his head asking you to enter his car. you glanced at his serious eyes, hands fidgets.

“my m-mom... she still doesn’t know—”

“don’t worry too much about it, angel. i already talked to her.” he stated in a lazy tone.

your mouth slightly gaps, doesn’t really want to believe him right away. you knew your mom. she’s a little bit strict when it comes to you hanging out a bit too late of your curfew at home.

“r-really?”

heeseung stares at your eyes before letting out a sigh. he fished his phone out from his pocket then dialled someone. he tapped the speaker on and eventually you heard the sound of somebody answering the phone.

“heeseung-ah?”

your eyes widen at the familiar voice errupting from the other line. heeseung handed you the phone so you can talk to her.

“m-mom..”

“y/n? darling, heeseung called me and told me that you’ll be staying late in their house for a group project?” she continuously said. you can tell base of the tone of her voice that she’s thrilled about you having friends.

“y-yes.”

“well, he’s such a nice boy. very polite as well and such a sweetheart for calling me himself to inform me about this project.” she blabbers nonstop. your cheeks blushed while feeling a bit embarrassed about it.

jake rolls his eyes as he throw his things inside his own car parked near heeseung’s. jay went to his and rest on it while waiting patiently. sunghoon hangs both of the straps of your bag on his shoulder before he gets on his big bike, holding his helmet on his free hand.

“u-uh, yes. he’s the president of the student council.” you answered while eyeing heeseung whose leaning on his car, near you. his hand rests at the open door for you.

“that’s great! he also told me that he’ll take you home later after it so i don’t have to worry.” she added.

eventually, she bids goodbye and so you did. your stares stayed at his phone before you handed it back to heeseung. he tilts his head again, asking you to enter his vehicle. without having any choice, you obliged.

you realized that no matter how hard you try to escape, there’s no getting away from them. they have control on everything and that’s what scares you the most. how smoothly they do these things and manipulate you on doing whatever that they all want. just like what (name) said. you’re like their toy.

“seatbelt, angel.” heeseung snaps you out of your own thoughts.

you nodded and grabbed over the safety strap on your side. your eyes caught sunghoon getting on his big motorbike and attractively putting his helment on for safety. you blushed unconsciously seeing your bag hangs on his broad shoulders and placed in front of him.

it looked totally out of place on how his all black motorbike and dark blue uniform mixed with your light colored school bag. it looked so feminine that you can already tell it doesn’t belong to the fine man.

his head cranes over to your side and even if heeseung’s car is heavily tinted and if sunghoon’s wearing a helmet, it seems like he’s looking directly to your eyes.

he started the engine of his bike and then a loud roaring sound errupts from it. he then bolted out from the parking lot of the school. both you and heeseung follows his bike driving away.

“such a show off.” he utters under his breath and then moves after jake drove his car out the parking.

the drive was as expected, slightly long. heeseung is quiet, only the faint song playing from the radio is what plays on the background. it was a little awkward, if you’ll be honest.

“are you cold?” you jolt a little when heeseung suddenly ask that question. he glanced at you briefly and you answered with a low ‘no’. he nods and then continued driving.

eventually, the vehicle slows down as it reaches near this huge elegant gate. your mouth gaps in amusement, eyes catching his friend’s vehicle entering as well. sunghoon’s big bike storms inside and even throw a middle finger at jake’s car.

“stay for a bit, angel. i’ll open your—” your heads whips over to the side when heeseung’s car bursts open.

jake leans downward to meet your eyes, hands rests in front, offering to help you.

“let’s go, sweetheart.” he smiles. you didn’t really have much of a choice as he reaches for your hand and guided you outside the car.

heeseung went out too and you saw jay getting off his vehicle as well. a small smirk playing over his sexy lips.

“what’s happening to the three of you, really?” he scoffs and rolls his eyes.

you glanced at the three as well, a confused look plastered all over your face. you did notice how they’re being weird from the parking lot incident.

“its because of jake. he’s so childish.” sunghoon commented right after walking near your place.

jake frowns, “no, i’m not!” he hardly objects.

heeseung rolls his eyes, “stop sulking, jake sim.” he then started walking towards the grand entrance of the big mansion right in front of you.

because of their small arguments, you failed to even notice it. now that you had the chance to admire it, you can tell that it reaks off money. some side comments and other complaints can be heard from jake but your focus was at the big house.

soon, a hand placed gently on the lower of your back.

“let’s go inside, baby.” jay says lowly and started to guide you towards the house.

you gulped, but followed him. its not like you have other options. besides you’re here to do the project... right?

when you made it inside, there are a lot of helpers assisting and attending to heeseung.

“welcome back, sir jay.” one greets when she noticed the guy beside you. looks like he’s often here that the maids are familiar of him.

oh, silly you. they all grew up together. it just made sense that they’re often at each other’s house.

“this is miss y/n.” he introduces you that caught you off-guard. she shifted her eyes to you and smiled warmly before offering a bow.

you panicked then bows back. “h-hi!”

“are you sir jay’s girlfriend?” she curiously asked right after.

“u-uhh—”

“what are you two doing? let’s go to my room.” heeseung interrupts with a stern voice.

jay smiles at the maid before guiding you towards the second floor. you just gave a small smile to the lady and just let yourself go to wherever jay asks you to.

heeseung and jay then started talking about a left work on the student council’s office. it was none of your concern so you try to busy yourself with the things you can see around the house. the interior of the whole place was just amazing. you can tell they spent a lot for their home.

you stopped walking once jay and heeseung did and you saw a door in front of heeseung. he glanced at you before opening it.

your steps halted when you’re about to go inside. something inside you just grow worried. you have no idea why, but your heart kept on beating so fast.

they noticed your sudden hesitation so both of them glanced over their shoulders, looking at you.

“what’s wrong?” jay asks while heeseung remains silent.

you gulped and took a short glance around heeseung’s spacious room. “n-nothing.”

you took a long breath, “c-can’t we just do it at your living room?” you pull up a smile in order to not raise any suspicion. the last thing you want is for them to think that you’re taking this in a wrong way.

“what’s wrong with doing it inside my room?” heeseung asks nonchalantly.

you took a step back, “u-uhm,—” you gasps when your back suddenly collided with a broad chest.

“going somewhere, doll?” sunghoon stares down at you while he stood gloriously behind you.

jake scoffs and then wrapped his arms around your shoulder, pulling up a mischievous grin.

“let’s go inside, okay? we’re going to have so much fun!” he cheers with a big smile, but you can feel your stomach churns and heart beating so fast.

sunghoon steps forward pushing you inside the room. heeseung sat down his gaming chair and rotates it so he’s facing his king sized bed. jay took off his coat and hangs it neatly by the sofa. jake’s smirking while watching you closely.

you feel timid being around and watched by them, so you looked everywhere except their eyes. the silence stretched for a couple of minutes before heeseung breaks it.

“strip, angel.” he starts then rests his back completely at the chair.

your feet glued at the floor and breathing got rigif while facing your back at them. their heated gaze pierced and almost burned a hole behind your head. you can feel it.

“strip for us.” he says in a very demanding tone.

slowly, you faced them with a slight fear flickering through your eyes.

“h-huh? but we’re suppose to d-do our project—”

“oh fuck that project, sweetheart! we’re going to do you instead.” jake interrupts smirking after licking his plump lips once. his eyes stares at you like a hungry predator.

“calm down, jake. you’re going to scare her.” jay says, mischief lazing through his voice while smirking sexily beside sunghoon.

they’re both sat at the sofa. the man beside him has his polo unbuttoned all the way, leaning forward as his elbow rests over his knees and eyes burning at you. he’s quiet and red lips hardly pursed. his dark, thick eyebrows narrowed together.

you remained standing awkwardly at the middle of heeseung’s bedroom, the door a few feet away from you. it slid inside your mind. to try and run away from them. but its impossible. with their built, they can easily catch you and who knows what that can do to you? they never go easy whenever they’re pissed off.

besides, sunghoon’s sat on the path towards it. he can easily grab and stop you from escaping. that’s totally crossed out of your plans.

you heaved a sigh, “g-guys,”

“did we ask you to talk?” heeseung.

instantly, your lips are pursed hardly. despite him showing a little soft side of him from a while ago, you’re still terrified whenever he’s very serious.

“we’re waiting, baby.” jay caught your attention.

you stared at them for a while and realized that you have nowhere to go. they got you cornered and stripped off of choices. once again, you’re helpless around these four men.

you balled your fists and jake’s eyes dropped from your pretty face to your hands. they’re trembling and he’s certain its a mixture of fear and worry. his grin grew wider. his nerves are shaking in excitement. he couldn’t wait to have you, to devour you, to ruin you.

“go on, y/n.” heeseung, again with his stern voice.

your eyes darted at sunghoon whose still quiet. his eyes then soften and he sighs, fists relaxing.

“strip for us, doll. its okay, we won’t hurt you.” he says in a calm voice. its still a surprise how he’s acting right now. he’s not the impatient and rough sunghoon. it slightly made you feel at ease.

when your hand slowly raised to untangle your necktie, you heard jake hissed and glared at sunghoon.

“remember what we talked about, hoon!” he said that got you confused.

sunghoon rolls his eyes, “yeah, whatever. i’m just trying to make her feel relax. you’re putting too much pressure on her.”

jake clicked his tongue and glanced back at you. his eyes looked more aggressive, screams more danger.

“why, sweetheart? are we scaring you?” he stepped closer, making you hold your breath.

“am i scaring you?” he repeats his words, his face are inches away from yours that you can feel his hot breath fanning your skin.

“jake,” heeseung calls him.

he ignored him and kept his stares right at your pretty face. despite the lack of answer, the tears on your eyes were enough to tell him that you are indeed scared. it didn’t make him feel pitiful, instead it drives him more crazy.

“strip for me or i’ll rip them off from you myself.” he groans.

you gulped and started to fasten your pace. now unbuttoning your polo— the one heeseung got you.

sunghoon clenched his jaw hardly, fighting so hard to interrupt. his friends talked to him about being the last to touch you tonight as a punishment for him. its actually a shit decision they came up with just because they think he’s starting to be your favorite.

that thought was the only thing that made him agree. he couldn’t help but to feel excited thinking about it.

he stood up that made jay and heeseung glance at his direction.

“don’t get in the way.” jay reminded him.

he threw him a short glance as he fished something from his pocket.

“i’m not going to.” he pulls out a cigarette and a lighter. “i’m going to smoke.” he added then glance at heeseung.

“you won’t mind right?”

heeseung stares for a while before tearing his gaze off of sunghoon. he took that as a yes then lits his cigarette.

“take off everything.” jake commands when you finished getting rid of your polo and school skirt.

“b-but—”

“strip.” he shortly said.

you stared at his eyes and slowly obliged. you don’t even know why you kept complaining when you’ll just end up doing it too.

the moment you finished taking everything off, completely naked in front of them, you feel shy. so shy that you try covering whatever your arms can. the four men stares silently, their eyes grew darker. looked more hungrier.

“lay on the bed for me, sweetheart.” jake mumbles, this time a lot more softer. “i want to eat you.” he added while taking off his necktie.

before jake continues discarding his clothes off, he snakes his hand on your nape to pull you closer to him. he placed a wet, but gentle kiss on your lips then stares right at your eyes.

“you’re so pretty. do you know that?” he says under his breath that made your heart race. he seems pissed, and honestly his attitude today are off for you. he’s very playful in nature, but the way he’s so aggressive is not like him. you know something’s up with jake sim.

“let me fucking eat you.” he added and then continued what he stopped doing to give you a kiss.

your eyes moved towards heeseung and he just gave you a nod. with slow steps you walked towards the bed and sat on the edge.

jake gently pushed your body so you can lay on it then he opened your thighs for him, giving a full display of your slightly wet core. he growls lightly, salivating by the view.

“damn, this pussy.” he mumbles before giving it a long lick making you purse your lips together.

jake almost went crazy having a taste of your cunt. he always loved it. if he can, he will eat you all day. so he didn’t waste a time to dive in and lap your cunt like a hungry animal. you whimper and legs slowly closing out of pleasure from the way he’s eating you.

a hand then reaches over your knee to open them back. when you open your eyes, you saw jay. he’s already standing at the edge of the bed, beside jake. his white t-shirt is off already and he’s left with just his boxers.

“keep them wide open, baby.” he orders while his other hand palms his cock inside his shorts.

you can’t even say a word or resist as your mind gets all fuzzy because of how good jake is making you feel. jake giggles through your cunt making you shut your eyes, brows arching closer to each other.

your face contorts out of pleasure.

jake’s hand rests at your thighs and massages it gently. you can feel a hand carding your hair, brushing it off your pretty face.

your eyes pry open when jake pulls away.

“sorry, angel. we’ll move you a bit so you can suck jay.” heeseung caught your attention. he’s already near the bed too.

when your eyes look at jay, he’s already taking off his boxers as they slightly drag you towards the corner of the bed. jay dives his head and kissed you on your lips while fondling on your exposed tits.

“uhm,” you moaned. he gave it a few more suck then tugs it lightly using his teeth as he pulls away, making you yelp.

“suck my dick, baby. let’s get you busy.” jay mumbles and places his shaft near your face.

jake then continues eating you, making you squirm again. he pushes your thighs wider, doesn’t giving you any chance to close it. he wants to take his time, eating and enjoying how you whimper in pleasure. the way you look pained, but he knew pretty well that he’s making you feel so good.

“how’s the view from there, hoon?” jay shouted, taunting his friend.

your eyes shifted at the sofa while jay enters your mouth. sunghoon’s dark eyes are darted at you while he sexily huffs on his cigarette. its taking everything of him not to get in between. he couldn’t help but feel so aroused by the sight of his own friends using you.

he remained silent and just watch from afar. jay scoffs then narrows his brows when his cock reaches the inside of your mouth. it feels so warm and soft, something that drives him crazy.

“fuck.” he curses and started to thrust on his own liking.

while jake laps your pussy and jay fucks your mouth, heeseung takes off all his clothes. he position himself on your other side then grabs your hand.

“you aren’t forgetting about me now, are you angel?” his taunting voice rings over your head and you mumbled something, causing vibration straight to jay’s throbbing cock.

“oh just like that, baby.” he groans and continues pistoning his hips towards you.

heeseung gave a few strokes to his dick before leaning to give you a kiss on the lips as well. it lasted for a few more seconds until he pulls away so you can give him a hand job.

“oh, yeah. just like that.” heeseung mumbles as he watch you all occupied with them.

he cannot help but to feel very excited at the view. how your eyes are tear stained yet still do as they say. its giving a satisfaction he couldn’t get from anything. he was certain you’re the only one who can give it to him, to them.

jake chuckes and giggles mischievously while tongue buried deep inside your wet hole. his chin wet with your juices and his saliva. it was heaven for him to see you squirm uncontrollably because of pleasure.

“u-ugh!” your mouth hugs jay’s big dick tighter that made him groan in pleasure, your hand too tightens around heeseung’s. it indicates that you are nearing your first release and they all couldn’t wait.

“are you near, baby?” jay asks, whimpering from his own pleasure.

you nodded continuously, slightly losing your mind at the climax you’ve been anticipating.

“i’m near too, baby. let’s cum together.” jay groans and grind even harder, chasing you.

“give it to me, sweetheart.” jake fucks into your cunt using his two fingers, tongue attached on your hole, waiting for that sweet juice he’s been dying for.

heeseung brushes your hairs off from your face, making sure to fist them so it won’t cover your pretty features. he loves staring and watching you whimper in pleasure. beads of sweat forms on your forehead and his eyes travels down your tits boucing slightly due to jake finger fucking you.

he leans and puts your nipple inside his mouth, sucking and twirling his hot tongue on the tip, making you feel dizzy.

“nghhh,” your thighs shakes and tries to move away from jake’s lips but he held you firm, making sure you have nowhere to go. sucking and taking all of your juices.

the sensation making your eyes rolls at the back of your head. jay, too reached his climax and shoot at the depth of your hot mouth, cursing and growling.

“such a good girl.” he says and leans to give you a kiss on your cheeks. “pretty baby.” he added and placed another kiss.

once done harvesting your cum, jake stood up and licks his lips with a grin on his face.

“get on fours. i’ll fuck you doggystyle.” he says and grabs your hand to help you get up from laying down. he knew you’re still in trance from the recent release.

heeseung gently press your palm to catch your attention. he arched his brows while glancing softly at your direction. jay brushes your hair away and wiped off the sweat.

“you good, angel? still with us?” heeseung asks and help you position yourself.

you nod your head once, head still fuzzy. heeseung chuckles, finding you adorable and kisses your shoulder once.

“you’re so hot, sweetheart.” jake and smacks your butt cheeks. you yelp slightly at the impact. it stings a bit but it oddly feels so good.

jake groans and cupped both your butt and leans in to kiss it, biting it.

“calm down, dude.” jay chuckles and swat his arms which he answered with a giggle.

your ears are still ringing from all of that when a hand started to gather your hair. it was sunghoon and he’s looking at you with slight worry in his eyes.

“i’ll just tie your hair, doll.” you nodded and he did his best to put away those lose hairstrands out of your face.

you smiled at him softly and mumbled ‘thank you’, which you doubt he heard. he sighs and leans in to kiss you once on your lips before walking back near jay.

“perfect. suck my dick this time, okay?” heeseung says and positions himself in front of you.

a small nod is what you gave him and he smirks, pinching your cheeks because he find you cute this way. all submissive and sweaty.

“ready? i’m going in.” jake says from behind and heeseung just nods his head.

you moaned the moment you felt jake pushing his dick inside of you, stretching you in the process. his thick veiny cock slowly disappears. just half of it and he’s already going crazy. he missed this feeling. he missed feeling you around him, suffocating and taking all of his length.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” he groans and couldn’t wait anymore as he did a hard thrust, reaching it deep.

your eyes widen at the sudden visitor making your mouth gap as well. heeseung took this chance to enter your mouth and he let out muffled curses because of how hot your lips feels around him. his brows narrowed closer to each other.

“shit.” he curses and take his time rutting his dick over your mouth. he was fighting back not to go too hard as he wants to go slow.

on the other hand, jake’s the opposite. he’s going fast and deep making you see stars. you tried hard to keep on all fours, but you can feel your knees losing its strength, along with your arms.

as jake started to take it faster, making sure he’s hitting every delicious places inside you, heeseung decided to catch pace with him. the room was filled with your moans and the erotic slapping sounds of your bodies colliding each other.

“i’m f-fucking close...” jake hissed and laid his tongue out sexily. heeseung smirks and gets more aggressive on using your mouth to chase his own orgasm.

“me too.” heeseung.

you moaned and tightens your cunt and lips when you felt your own climax approaching. jake’s breath became more heavy at the pleasure your hole is making him feel.

“fuck you feel so good like this, sweetheart.” he groans and slaps your butt then leans down to kiss your back, making sure to suck on the skin to leave a mark. his mark.

“so good for me.” he says, almost out of breath. “so damn good for all of us.”

and a few more deep thrust, jake released his hot cum inside you. heeseung throws his head back, cumming inside your mouth. the three of you are catching your breaths while he both tries to catch your highs. heeseung strokes your cheeks gently.

your knees gaves in and body collided to heeseung’s soft white sheets. jay steps in and made sure you’re all right.

“tired, angel?” heeseung whispered, smiling while looking at your shut eyes and breathing heavily.

jake pulls out, some of his cum dripping out from your hole. he kneels down to see it more clearly and groans at the sight of it. he licks two of his fingers and slides it in your hole, shoving his cum back. it made you jolt and moan, feeling too much.

he chuckles, “you did good for me, sweets.” his eyes a lot more softer than before. he seems to calm down now.

“we’re not done yet.” heeseung mumbles that you responded with a light groan.

he ignored it and laid back at the edge of his bed, feet touching the floor.

“ride me, angel.” he held your arm to guide you over his lap. you needed some help and the other boys were quick to assist you.

“too t-tired..” you manage to say. heeseung placed a chaste kiss at your cheeks.

“its okay, i’ll do the work.” he assures you.

jake smirks meeting eyes with heeseung. he taps jay’s shoulder and tilted his chin towards the two of you.

“let’s do it, jay.” jake says excitedly. “fuck her other hole.” and he trudges towards heeseung’s side drawer.

sunghoon stood up with furrowed brows.

“what the fuck do you mean? we never tried it before.” he steps in. “are you sure she can handle that today?”

jake rolls his eyes and glanced at his friend for a while. he taps his chest and raised the bottle of lube. “yes. i’m sure our girl can handle it.”

“right, sweets?” he asks you.

you are not at the proper state of mind to respond or comprehend what they’re talking about. your mind is too clouded with pleasure and the overstimulation is taking away your capability to understanding anything.

“angel?” heeseung gently calls you.

“hmm?” you hummed.

he chuckles, “jay and i are going to fuck you at the same time. is that okay?”

jokes on them because you can’t even process anything. a nod is all you gave them. sunghoon gulped, a bit nervous but he can’t deny that he’s also looking forward to it. he’s so sure you’ll look so alluring having both your holes filled.

“see? she’s our big girl.” jake smirks and squats down to prep your hole. they don’t really need a lot of the lube as you’re so wet from what jake just did moments ago and because you’re too aroused.

“damn, so tight.” he mumbles after sliding his index finger inside as a test.

jay gulped, totally salivating. he pushes his friend away and positions himself.

“just make sure to take it slow, man.” sunghoon reminded him, now starting to discard his clothes one by one.

“w-what...” you’re slowly going back to your senses, but it was too late.

heeseung slides his cock inside your pussy as jay puts the tip in front of your butt hole. your eyes slightly grow big and worry flashes your pretty face.

“h-huh?” you’re about to look back when jake cups your face. he smiles sweetly and kisses your lips.

“don’t be scared, sweets. we’ll make sure you will feel good, okay?” his gaze too soft and hypnotizing.

its not that you don’t want it. for the past months that you’ve been under these boys, they’ve already corrupted you. behind those innocent looking eyes you flashes them is the dark desire of having them all to yourself.

sunghoon soon came into your view, “it’ll be all right, doll.” he smiles and held your hand.

“here i come, baby.” jay’s low voice ringed from behind you and as he says, he pushes forward.

“ugh,” you groaned, hurting from the fresh stretch.

heeseung starts to slowly fuck from below you, just to ease some of the pain you’re going through.

“i-it hurts...” your eyes starts tearing up.

sunghoon glared at jake. “did you even put enough lube?” he hissed at his friend.

jake caress your cheeks, “i did! its suppose to hurt, sweets. just like the first time when sunghoon took you.” he reminded with a slight bitterness on his tone.

sunghoon ignored his friend comments and focused on comforting you. he leans in and attached his lips on yours, tongue messily dancing with each other.

“fuck, so tight...” jay groaned, eyes shut from the pleasure of being squeezed inside you.

“her cunt is getting more tighter too, jay. keep going.” heeseung’s brows are narrowed from pleasure.

the sting is still there, but it became more tolerable as heeseung dicks you from below and sunghoon making out with you. eventually, they’re sliding in and out smoothly.

“oh m-my gosh..” your eyes rolled at the back of your head from the intense pleasure you are having.

you cannot describe it. the way their big dicks are drilling you are making you crazy, feels like heaven.

“fuck.” jay and heeseung cursed hardly as they fuck you in sync.

jake salivates just by watching you getting used by them. you look beautiful. you look so hot. and you are his. you belong to them.

“i’m getting close, hyung.” jay growls and kept on rutting his cock inside you.

“me too.” heeseung leans and capture your breast to suck it.

“so good for us. such a good girl.” jay mumbles.

sunghoon pulls away to watch. “fuck.”

“you’re so good, sweetheart.” jake whispers beside your face. you smiles and moans, trying to keep your eyes open to look at him.

your free hand reaches over his handsome face and cares it, “k-kiss me, jake.” his eyes darken and without hesitation he gaves in to your request.

a few moments, jay and heeseung came inside your holes together with you. both of your legs shakes and body collapsing on top of heeseung, panting so hard.

heeseung breaths in, taking your sweet scent. he pulls your face closer to make out as he kept sliding his dick inside, fucking his cum back.

your eyes already closed and almost passing out. he kisses your cheeks and smiles.

“just one more, angel. can you do it for us?” he asks gently.

you nodded your head and he smiles, “good girl.”

sunghoon helps you to get off from heeseung so he can replace him. jake made sure you’re stable enough as you straddle his lap. jay squats to clean you as his, heeseung’s and jake’s cum drips all over the place.

“hey,” sunghoon calls softly and cups both of your cheeks. he tries to search for your eyes.

“just one more, doll.”

you nodded your head, “p-please.”

“please what, pretty?”

“please make me feel g-good.” you look drunk on lust because you’re starting to sound demanding.

the boys chuckles, finding you adorable this way. sunghoon smiles, relieved that you seem to be fine. just exhausted.

“definitely, love.” he whispers. “that’s what we’re all here for, doll. to make you feel good.” and he kissed your cheeks.

jake leans in and kisses your shoulderblades. “i’ll fuck you too, sweets. okay?”

you nodded your head and props your head asking for a kiss. he chuckles and gave in, dropping a quick peck on your swollen lips.

“hold on tight on sunghoon, hmm?” heeseung’s back beside you.

you nodded and placed both of your hands on sunghoon’s broad shoulders. jay went inside the bathroom to start running a warm bath for you.

“i’ll enter now.” sunghoon says and slides inside your pussy.

both of you moaned. jake’s eyes darken as he position himself behind you, his aching tip dying to enter your other hole.

“here i come, sweets.” and smoothly slides in as well. the three of you are a moaning mess.

your mind all blank and you’re starting to see stars already. the two of them fucked you rough and fast, not giving any mercy. the way they rutt their dicks are different from how they console you moments ago. they went fast, like they’re chasing something.

“fuck, pussy so good.” sunghoon moans and kisses your shoulders, he opens his mouth then buries his fangs on your skin. oddly, it added to the pleasure.

“oh shit... so good sweetheart.” jake’s brows draws closer to each other as he focuses on the view of his cock sliding inside your butt hole. it was so hot. the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

it went for a few more minutes. your moans and the skin slapping each other echoes through the whole room. it was so good. so damn good that you almost pass out due to too much pleasure and tiredness.

“i’m cumming.” sunghoon was the first one to announce.

“me too, dude!” jake and he reaches over your clit to rub it.

“nnghh,” you moaned, unable to even utter a single word anymore.

“she’s choking me inside. she’s close, jake. fuck faster.” sunghoon hissed and the two of them did it.

a few more seconds and they shoot their hot cums inside. jake’s panting so hard, so is sunghoon. you completely fall over sunghoon’s body, eyes close shut.

“doll?” sunghoon calls out between his heavy breaths.

you didn’t respond so he slightly pulls away to check on you. he saw you’re already pass out so he smiled and kisses your cheeks gently.

“you did good, doll.” he whispers.

jake pulls out and before cleaning himself, he grabbed the towel from jay and cleaned you. he leans over your face to kiss you softly with a warm smile on his face. “you did so well, sweets.”

jay brushes away some hairs that sticked onto your pretty face, “thank you, baby. you did so well.” he whispers.

sunghoon helped putting you over heeseung’s arms and he walks inside the bathroom where the warm bath is waiting for you.

you groaned, “we’ll just clean you before you rest, angel.” he assured and gently placed you at the bathtub.

you can feel your whole body aching, mind still fuzzy after all you did. despite everything, one question plays inside your mind.

‘what are you for them?’

tricky one too. you’re dying to know, but at the same time you’re scared to find out. most of the times they are mean to you, makes you feel like their toy. but after how they acted moments ago, it raised confusion. a slight hope that they indeed care for you as much as you care for them ignites inside you.

you tried shoving that thought off. you’re too tired. maybe you’ll ask them later. for now, you’re going to rest because they surely pushed you to your limit.

heeseung stares at your pretty face then smiles and caress your cheeks, “you did so well for us, angel.” and kisses you once on your lips.

tag-list:

@shawnyle @baekxo07 @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @shanb1n @kaykay11sworld @starfallia @blank-velvet @nctislifue @avaleyshin @kpopslays @jooniesbears-blog

[merrinla]

Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

[fr0stf4ll]

A proper girls’ night

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; You and Azriel have been mates for some time now, and between managing the males, training, missions, raising a child, and fulfilling duties as High Lady, you haven’t had the chance to enjoy a proper girls' night with your closest friends. But tonight is supposed to be all about you and the girls—or is it? ;)

word count ; 7.2k

warning; SMUT ;p, alcohol, drunk sex

notes; Yoo everyone, here I am again for a one shot. I'm not the best for smut so I hope that you will enjoy it. I got the idea of this story after a small party with some of my best friends so I hope that you will like it ! With love <3333

---

I was lounging on my plush couch, admiring the final touches I’d added to make this apartment truly feel like home. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the Sidra, and soft, warm lights created a comforting ambiance. This place was everything I’d hoped for—a fresh start, a new chapter.

I had just finished arranging the last decorative pillow when a knock echoed through the apartment. I grinned, already knowing who it was.

“Come in!” I called out.

The door swung open to reveal Feyre, Nesta, and Mor. Feyre carried not just one, but two bottles of wine, Nesta had a stack of board games tucked under her arm, and Mor, of course, arrived with an enormous grin and—was that three bottles of spirits?

“Are we throwing a party, or did I miss something?” I laughed, taking in the sheer amount of alcohol they had brought with them.

Mor dropped the bottles on the counter with a flourish. “What? It’s not every day we christen a new apartment, Y/N! We needed to make sure we had enough… well, more than enough.”

Nesta smirked, adding, “You know how things go with us. We start with wine, then move on to something stronger. And just in case, I thought we’d better bring a little extra.”

“A little extra?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow as I counted the bottles. “This looks like enough to keep us going for a week.”

Feyre chuckled, setting the wine down. “Consider it insurance. We’re not leaving until we’ve had a proper girls’ night.”

Mor waved a hand dismissively. “No boys, no responsibilities, and a whole lot of alcohol. That’s what tonight is about. We’re here to have fun, relax, and forget about everything else.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I started pulling out glasses. “Well, if that’s the case, then let’s get started.”

The girls settled in, each finding a spot on the couch or one of the oversized chairs. Mor was already opening one of the wine bottles, filling up our glasses generously.

“We’ve spent too many nights at Rita’s,” Nesta said, her tone teasing but sincere. “It’s nice to just relax here for a change.”

Feyre nodded in agreement, raising her glass. “Especially with the company. I could get used to this.”

Mor clinked her glass against Feyre’s. “Here’s to our host, for letting us invade her beautiful new home. And for not skimping on the drinks.”

“I didn’t realize I had a choice,” I teased, holding up my glass before taking a sip. The wine was rich and full-bodied, the perfect start to what promised to be a wild night.

“Tonight is all about us,” Mor declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she leaned back in her seat. “No boys, no distractions, just us girls and more alcohol than we know what to do with.”

“Agreed,” Nesta said, holding up one of the board games. “Let’s start with something easy. Then we can see where the night takes us.”

The night was still young, and the four of us had already settled comfortably into my new apartment. The alcohol was flowing freely—perhaps a bit too freely—and the conversation had naturally turned to gossip. It was inevitable when we got together, especially after a few glasses of wine.

We were sprawled out on the couch and chairs, each of us with a drink in hand. The warmth from the alcohol had already loosened our tongues, and the atmosphere was buzzing with the excitement of shared secrets.

Mor, never one to hold back, was the first to dive in. “Alright, ladies, I’ve got some tea. And I’m not talking about that herbal nonsense.” She leaned in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Did you hear about the sparring match Cassian had the other day with Devlon?”

That got everyone’s attention. “No,” Nesta said, her eyes narrowing. “What happened?”

Mor grinned, clearly enjoying the anticipation. “So, apparently, Devlon thought it would be a good idea to challenge Cassian in front of all the Illyrians—like, really make a show of it. Cassian, being Cassian, accepted, but he didn’t just beat him. He absolutely humiliated him. We’re talking flat on his back, wings pinned, can’t even move. And to top it all off, Cassian just stood up, dusted himself off, and said, ‘Next time, try harder.’”

Nesta snorted, trying to hide her amusement. “Serves him right. Devlon’s been asking for it.”

Feyre nodded, her eyes wide with delight. “I wish I could have seen that.”

“Oh, but it gets better,” Mor continued, her grin widening. “Devlon’s been walking around the camp like a wounded animal ever since. The other Illyrians are having a field day with it. They’ve even started calling him ‘the Fallen Commander’ behind his back.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Cassian really knows how to make an impression.”

“Not as much of an impression as Rhys made when he was caught singing in the bath the other day,” Mor added, her tone dripping with amusement.

Feyre blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mor said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I happened to be passing by when I heard it. He was belting out some old Prythian ballad—badly, might I add—and I swear, for a second, I thought a cat was dying.”

Nesta burst out laughing. “Please tell me you have some sort of recording.”

“I wish!” Mor exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “But trust me, the image is seared into my memory forever. The High Lord of the Night Court, all serious and stoic by day, and an absolute disaster in the bathroom.”

Feyre groaned, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “I’m never letting him live that down.”

“And then there’s Azriel,” Mor said, shifting her attention to me with a wicked grin. “I’m surprised he hasn’t broken anything with those late-night visits to your place.”

I blushed instantly, caught off guard. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Mor teased, her eyes glinting with amusement. “We all know that shadowy lover of yours can’t keep his hands off you. I mean, with the way you’ve been glowing lately, it’s not hard to figure out why.”

“Azriel doesn’t talk much,” Nesta added, smirking, “but I bet he more than makes up for it in other areas.”

Feyre was giggling, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Spill, Y/N! We need to know—does he really keep the shadows around, or does he prefer a more hands-on approach?”

My face was burning by now, but the alcohol had loosened my tongue enough that I couldn’t help but join in. “Let’s just say, the shadows aren’t the only thing that’s always… active.”

That sent Mor into peals of laughter, nearly spilling her drink as she doubled over. “Oh, I knew it! Azriel’s got that dark, broody exterior, but underneath… he’s a beast, isn’t he?”

I could only laugh in response, covering my face with my hands. “I’m not saying anything else!”

“Come on,” Nesta urged, leaning in. “We won’t tell a soul. Just a little more.”

I peeked out from behind my hands, giving them a sly grin. “Let’s just say, he’s very… thorough.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Mor cheered, holding her glass up for a toast. “To thorough lovers and late-night visits that leave you glowing!”

We all clinked our glasses together, the laughter bubbling up again. The night was filled with stories that grew more outrageous with each passing drink. Feyre even confessed to sneaking up on Rhys one morning with a bucket of cold water, just to get back at him for something he’d done weeks earlier.

“I’ll never forget the look on his face,” she giggled, eyes bright with mischief. “He didn’t speak to me for half the day—until he figured out how to get me back.”

“Did he manage to one-up you?” I asked, curious.

“Oh, he tried,” Feyre replied, a smirk playing on her lips. “But he should have known better than to start a prank war with me. I’m still two steps ahead.”

“You two are impossible,” Mor said, shaking her head but unable to hide her amusement. “But what about Cassian? Does he know about all of this?”

“Cassian,” Nesta said, still grinning, “is too busy preening in front of the mirror these days. He’s been obsessed with perfecting his ‘battle-ready’ look. You wouldn’t believe how much time he spends adjusting his armor to make sure it’s just the right amount of ‘ruggedly handsome.’”

Feyre rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness in her voice. “Typical. He’s worse than a peacock.”

“Speaking of peacocks,” Mor added, leaning in again, “I heard that Tarquin’s been parading around the Summer Court with his shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Apparently, he thinks it makes him look ‘mysterious and approachable.’”

Feyre snorted. “More like ridiculous.”

As the conversation began to wind down, Mor suddenly jumped to her feet, a wild look in her eyes. “Alright, ladies,” she declared, “enough sitting around. It’s time to take this party up a notch.”

The night had taken a turn, a wild, exhilarating turn. What started as a simple girls' night had quickly evolved into something far more chaotic and, quite frankly, downright ridiculous. The ridiculous part might have had something to do with the copious amounts of alcohol, but that was beside the point.

It all began after the third bottle of wine was emptied, and Mor, in her infinite wisdom, declared that the night was far too young to end with just drinking and talking. The suggestion to turn the apartment into our very own private club was made, and, well, it didn’t take much convincing.

I don’t know where Mor had pulled it from—whether it was some hidden magic or just her unrelenting spirit—but somehow, my apartment transformed. Soft lights gave way to pulsating club lights, shifting in colors that matched the beat of the music that now blasted through the room. The furniture was pushed aside, making space for what had effectively become a dance floor.

“I didn’t even know you had this in you,” Feyre shouted over the music, her eyes wide with delight as she took in the scene.

“Neither did I!” I shouted back, laughing as I twirled around in the flashing lights. The wine had long since turned my limbs to jelly, and I felt lighter, freer than I had in a long time.

Nesta, who had been initially reluctant, was now completely immersed, her usually stoic expression replaced with a flushed grin as she sipped from yet another drink. “I’m not even sure what’s happening anymore,” she admitted, before bursting into laughter at the absurdity of it all.

Mor, of course, was in her element. She had Feyre by the hand, pulling her onto the makeshift dance floor. “Come on, Feyre! Show us those moves!”

Feyre, not one to back down from a challenge, joined in with gusto, the two of them dancing wildly, their laughter filling the room. It was infectious, and soon, we were all moving to the beat, lost in the moment.

The alcohol flowed freely, and it wasn’t long before we were all well beyond tipsy. Nesta, usually the most reserved of us, was now draped over the couch, clutching her drink and singing along to the music—though the words were more slurred than sung. Mor had taken it upon herself to DJ, switching between tracks with the enthusiasm of someone who was enjoying every second of the chaos she had created.

As for me, I was somewhere in the middle of it all, dancing with Feyre and Mor one minute, then flopping down next to Nesta the next, my head spinning in the best possible way.

“This was the best idea ever,” I declared, holding up my drink in a toast to… well, everything. The lights, the music, the ridiculousness of it all.

“I told you!” Mor shot back, barely managing to avoid spilling her drink as she twirled around. “This is what girls’ night is all about!”

Feyre, who had given up on dancing in favor of lounging on the couch with Nesta, nodded vigorously. “We should do this every week.”

“Yes!” Nesta agreed, raising her glass—though she missed her mouth when she tried to take a sip, spilling a bit of her drink on herself. She didn’t seem to mind, though. “Every week!”

We all dissolved into laughter, the kind that made your stomach ache and tears stream down your face. It was a night of pure, unfiltered joy, the kind of night that reminded me just how lucky I was to have these incredible women in my life.

At some point—who knows when—the music was turned up even louder, and we all found ourselves back on the dance floor, moving in a way that was far more about having fun than it was about looking good. Not that any of us cared. This was our night, and we were going to make the most of it.

As the night wore on and the drinks continued to flow, the line between reality and whatever madness we had created blurred even further. The lights, the music, the alcohol—it all mixed together in a haze of color and sound, until it felt like we were in another world entirely, a world where nothing mattered but the here and now.

At some point, Mor pulled out a bottle of something stronger—something that definitely wasn’t wine—and poured shots for everyone. We downed them without hesitation, the burn in our throats a reminder that we were alive, that we were here, that this night would be one we’d never forget.

And it was. By the time we finally collapsed in a heap on the floor, the world spinning around us, I knew that this was a night I’d look back on and smile. We were drunk, we were ridiculous, and it was perfect.

As we lay there, catching our breath and trying to stop the room from spinning, Feyre turned to me, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and alcohol. “You know,” she said, her voice soft, “this was exactly what we needed.”

I smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Yeah,” I agreed, my voice barely a whisper. “Me too.”

Tonight was one for the books.

The night had taken a wild, exhilarating turn. What started as a simple girls' night had quickly evolved into something far more chaotic and, quite frankly, downright ridiculous. The alcohol was flowing freely, and the atmosphere was buzzing with energy as the room transformed into our very own private club.

But just when I thought the night couldn’t get any crazier, Mor clapped her hands together, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Alright, ladies, let’s up the stakes. Who’s up for a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’?”

Feyre groaned, though her eyes were gleaming with mischief. “Oh gods, this is going to get dangerous.”

“Exactly,” Mor said, grabbing a fresh bottle of something strong and pouring shots for everyone. “We’re already half-gone, so let’s see who can survive this round.”

Nesta eyed the shot glass suspiciously but took it anyway. “Fine, but let’s keep it reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” Mor scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s the fun in that?”

With everyone armed with a shot glass, we settled onto the floor, forming a loose circle. Mor, as the instigator, went first. She smirked, lifting her glass. “Never have I ever… kissed someone with the intention of getting free drinks.”

Feyre immediately took a sip, as did Mor, who winked at me. “What can I say? Sometimes, charm gets you a long way.”

"When the person buying your drinks is Rhysand, it doesn't count Feyre" I said laughing at her.

Nesta, surprisingly, didn’t drink, but she gave a small smile. “I prefer to pay my own way, thank you very much.”

Next, it was Feyre’s turn. She narrowed her eyes in mock concentration before grinning. “Never have I ever… gotten out of trouble by flirting.”

Mor and I immediately took our shots, causing Feyre to raise an eyebrow. “Come on, you two, spill.”

Mor grinned, clearly eager to share. “Alright, so there was this one time in the Summer Court… I was supposed to be at a formal dinner, but I got a little sidetracked with a rather charming advisor. We were caught by one of the palace guards, and let’s just say, I had to turn on the charm full blast to avoid a very awkward conversation with Tarquin.”

Feyre shook her head, laughing. “Only you, Mor.”

I couldn’t help but join in. “For me, it was during a mission. I needed to get past a rather stubborn gatekeeper who wasn’t interested in letting me through. A little flirting and a lot of batting my eyelashes later, and suddenly I was the most important person on his list. I got what I needed, and he never even knew what hit him.”

Nesta looked at me with a smirk. “I’m surprised Az didn’t handle that for you.”

“Oh, he would’ve,” I admitted with a laugh. “But sometimes, a girl’s got to do things her own way.”

Feyre shook her head, still smiling. “Rhys would’ve been so jealous.”

“Please,” Mor scoffed, “Rhys would have encouraged it.”

Nesta chuckled, lifting her glass. “Alright, next one. Never have I ever… sent a dirty thought to your partner to see their reaction.”

Feyre and Nesta immediately took their shots, while Mor and I exchanged surprised looks, our glasses untouched.

Feyre’s cheeks flushed as she laughed. “I did it to Rhys once during a meeting—he nearly choked on his drink. I thought I was being subtle, but apparently, his reaction was… noticeable. I think I almost caused a diplomatic incident.”

Mor burst out laughing, her eyes wide. “Oh, I would’ve paid to see that.”

Nesta, surprisingly, offered her own story, her voice more subdued but with a hint of amusement. “I sent Cassian a… vivid thought while he was training the Illyrians. He dropped his sword mid-swing and nearly took out an entire row of recruits. They didn’t know what happened, but Cassian spent the rest of the day giving me death glares.”

The room erupted into laughter, the image of Cassian flustered and distracted by Nesta’s thoughts too much to handle.

“Well, I’ve never done it,” I said, still giggling. “But now I’m tempted. I wonder how a certain shadow singer would react.”

“Knowing you, Y/N” Feyre said with a grin, “he would probably drop everything he is doing to go join you.”

“Oh, definitely” I agreed, taking a sip of my drink anyway. “But let’s keep going, shall we?”

The game continued, the questions growing bolder, the shots more frequent, and the laughter louder. By the time we were on the tenth or eleventh round, there was no turning back.

“Alright, my turn,” Nesta said, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Never have I ever… had someone walk in on me during sex.”

Mor and Feyre both took a sip, while I hesitated before taking mine. “Let’s just say, it was awkward,” I said with a cringe, though I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.

Mor, however, was not about to let it go. “Oh, no, no. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not give us details. Who walked in?”

I smirked, taking another sip of my drink for courage. “Rhys. And let’s just say, I’ve never seen him retreat from a room so fast.”

That sent Mor into peals of laughter, nearly spilling her drink as she doubled over. “Oh, I can just picture it! Poor Rhys, walking in on you two… I bet Az didn’t even bat an eyelash.”

Nesta snickered, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “And I’m sure Azriel was just as composed as ever, right? Or did he actually look guilty for once?”

I rolled my eyes, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Let’s just say, Azriel wasn’t too happy about the interruption. But once Rhys was out of the room… he made sure to make up for lost time.”

Feyre choked on her drink, laughing as she wiped her mouth. “I bet he did! Azriel’s got that silent intensity… but I’m sure he can be anything but quiet when he wants to be.”

“He’s very… intense, in more ways than one.”

Mor grinned wickedly, holding her glass up for a toast. “To very intense lovers who know how to get the job done—and then some!”

The night had taken on a life of its own, with the alcohol flowing and inhibitions flying out the window. We were deep into the game of "Never Have I Ever," and it seemed like nothing was off-limits at this point.

Feyre, clearly feeling the effects of the drinks, leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “Alright, ladies, last one from me. Never have I ever… tried the ‘Moonlit Arch’ position.”

There was a pause as the question hung in the air. Mor immediately downed her shot, as did Feyre. Nesta hesitated, then took hers as well. Meanwhile, I just sat there, my glass untouched, staring at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Wait… what?” I asked, feeling completely out of the loop. “What’s the ‘Moonlit Arch’? Are you sure you didn’t made that up ?”

Feyre’s grin widened as she set down her glass. “Oh, sweetie, you’ve been missing out. How do I explain this?”

Before I could protest, Feyre had jumped up from her spot, a bit unsteady but determined. She sauntered over to me, her eyes gleaming with tipsy mischief. “It’s easier to show than tell.”

The next thing you knew, Feyre was pushing me back onto the ground, her hands on your shoulders. “Relax, this is educational,” she teased, as she gently pushed me down and straddled my lap.

“Feyre, what are you—” You began, but was cut off as she leaned down, bringing her lips close to your ear.

“It’s all about the angle,” Feyre whispered, her breath warm against your ear. “You lie back, just like this…”

She gently guided me into position, her hands on my shoulders as she demonstrated. Before you knew it, Nesta was there too, her eyes gleaming with the same mischief as she grabbed Feyre’s hands and placed them on either side of your face.

“It’s all about guiding the energy,” Nesta murmured, her voice low and sultry. “Make sure your partner knows exactly where to focus.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though it was tinged with nervousness and the absurdity of the situation. “You’re both insane.”

“Insanely helpful,” Mor chimed in, a grin spreading across her face as she sauntered over. She took Feyre’s hands and moved them down to my chest, giving a light squeeze. “And don’t forget about the importance of… other areas.”

“Mor!” You gasped, my face burning as you tried to squirm away, but the alcohol had made me sluggish, and the three of them had me pinned in place.

“It’s all in good fun,” Feyre said with a laugh, her eyes twinkling as she gently patted my cheek. “Now, the trick is to—”

—

It was nearly dawn, and the soft light of morning was beginning to creep through the windows of the townhouse. One by one, the guys emerged from their rooms, each of them groggy and slightly disoriented, but with a nagging feeling in the back of their minds.

Rhysand was the first to step into the hallway, his brow furrowed in concern. “Is it just me, or is something off?” he muttered to himself.

Cassian’s door creaked open next, and he stuck his head out, his hair a wild mess. “Where the hell are they?”

Azriel appeared a moment later, his eyes shadowed with worry. “They’re not answering,” he said quietly, though his voice was tinged with concern.

The three of them exchanged glances, the same thought running through their minds: their mates weren’t back yet, and none of them had responded to the bond.

Cassian scratched his head, still half-asleep. “You think they’re okay? Maybe they… got distracted?”

“Distracted?” Rhys repeated, raising an eyebrow. “By what, exactly?”

Azriel sighed, trying to remain calm. “It’s just a girls’ night. They’re probably just… having fun.”

Cassian leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, but still… it’s nearly morning. Shouldn’t they be back by now?”

Rhys glanced toward the window, watching as the sky began to lighten. “They should be. I can’t get through to Feyre.”

“Same with Nesta,” Cassian added, his worry finally starting to show.

Azriel’s expression darkened slightly as he nodded. “And Y/N’s just giving off this… contented feeling. But nothing else.”

The three males stood in silence for a moment, the unease growing between them. Finally, Cassian huffed and pushed off the wall. “Alright, that’s it. We’re going to check on them.”

Azriel hesitated, glancing between the other two. “You’re all overreacting. They’re perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.”

“Sure they are,” Cassian agreed, a glint of concern in his eyes. “But aren’t you just a little curious about what they’re up to?”

Azriel hesitated, glancing out the window at the faint light of dawn creeping over the horizon. “Maybe… a little.”

Rhys grinned, clapping Azriel on the back. “Then let’s go. If nothing else, we can make sure they get home safe.”

The three of them headed out, taking to the skies with ease. It wasn’t long before they spotted your apartment building, and as they landed on the rooftop across the street, they were greeted with an unexpected sight.

Bright, colorful lights were flashing from your windows, pulsing in time with the faint thrum of music that could be heard even from outside. It looked more like a nightclub than a place where anyone would be getting a decent night’s sleep.

Cassian stared at the windows, his mouth slightly agape. “What the hell…?”

Rhys raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “I didn’t know Y/N had a nightclub setup in her apartment.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. “She doesn’t. Or at least, she didn’t.”

Cassian shook his head, his concern deepening. “Come on, just a peek. I’ve got to see what kind of chaos they’ve created.”

They descended to your apartment door, and as they approached, the music grew louder, the flashing lights spilling out from under the doorframe, casting strange, colorful shadows in the hallway.

Rhys knocked, but there was no response. He knocked again, louder this time, but the only sound was the thumping music and muffled voices from inside.

Cassian glanced at the others, a serious expression on his face. “You sure they’re alive in there?”

The three of them exchanged worried looks, and before anyone could suggest otherwise, Cassian stepped forward, bracing his shoulder against the door. “Alright, let’s find out.”

With a firm push, they forced the door open—and were immediately greeted by the sight of complete and utter chaos.

The apartment was a mess, with bottles and snacks strewn everywhere. But what caught their attention was the scene in the living room: Mor and Nesta were on the floor, laughing uncontrollably, while Feyre was perched on top of you on the ground, pinning you down and demonstrating something with far too much enthusiasm.

Mor had one hand on your chest, playfully squeezing your breast, while Nesta’s hands were on either side of your face, her touch light but clearly part of the explanation Feyre was giving.

The moment the door flew open, all four of you turned your heads in perfect synchronization, staring at the doorway with wide, startled eyes.

The guys froze in the entrance, their faces a mix of shock and utter confusion. It was as if they had just walked into another world, one they couldn’t quite make sense of.

Feyre, still on top of you, blinked in surprise, her hands frozen in place. Mor and Nesta, still in their positions, were too drunk to even try to move, their eyes fixed on the three males standing in the doorway.

For a long moment, there was complete silence, the only sound the faint thrum of the music and the distant hum of the lights.

“What the hell…?” Cassian finally managed to mutter, his voice laced with disbelief.

Rhys, his usually calm demeanor shattered, shook his head slowly. “I think we interrupted something… very strange.”

Azriel, for his part, could only stare, his mind trying to process the chaotic scene in front of him. “Should we… come back later?”

The sudden absurdity of the situation hit you all at once, and you burst into laughter, the alcohol-fueled hysteria too strong to resist. Feyre, still on top of you, collapsed onto your chest, shaking with laughter, while Mor and Nesta lost it completely, both of them rolling on the floor as they tried to catch their breath.

The guys, however, remained rooted in place, their expressions still a mix of shock and confusion as they watched the four of you dissolve into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

Cassian was the first to recover, though his voice was still laced with disbelief. “What in the world is going on here?”

Feyre, still laughing, finally managed to roll off you, her face flushed as she wiped at her eyes. “I guess we got a little carried away.”

“A little?” Rhys echoed, his voice flat as he glanced around the room. “This place looks like a warzone.”

Mor, still struggling to sit up, waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, please. We were just having fun!”

Azriel, who had finally managed to close his mouth, walked over to you, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress. “Let’s get you home.”

You looked up at him, your smile turning into a confused frown. “But this is my home, Az.”

Feyre, catching your words, let out a snort before dissolving into another fit of laughter. Before long, you were both on the floor, laughing so hard that you could barely breathe, the absurdity of the entire situation hitting you all at once.

Mor, still perched on the floor, threw her head back and screamed with laughter. “This was better than every night at Rita’s I’ve ever had in my life!”

Nesta, who was trying her best to stay composed, finally gave in, collapsing onto the floor beside Mor as the two of them giggled uncontrollably.

The guys, still standing in the doorway, could only watch as the four of you descended into a drunken, giggling mess, their shock slowly giving way to resignation.

Rhys sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Cassian, finally managing a grin, shook his head. “We’re going to have to carry them out of here, aren’t we?”

Azriel, who had gently lifted you to your feet again, just nodded, his concern still evident. “Probably. But at least they had fun.”

---

The chaos of the night had finally started to wind down. Mor and Nesta, still giggling, were being helped out by Rhys and Cassian, who looked more than ready to get everyone home and into bed. But you, still tipsy and more than a little giggly, had managed to cling onto Azriel.

He lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your face nestled against his neck, legs wrapped tightly around his torso. The cool night air hit your skin as he carried you out of the apartment, but you barely noticed, too focused on the warmth of his body and the comforting scent of him surrounding you.

Azriel walked steadily, his wings twitching slightly with every step. You could feel the muscles in his back flex as he held you close, his grip firm yet gentle. Despite how drunk you were, a playful smile tugged at your lips as your breath fanned across his neck.

“You know,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing, “you’re really strong… and warm. Like, really warm.”

Azriel’s chuckle rumbled through his chest, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Good to know,” he replied, his voice taking on a huskier edge. “Are you comfortable?”

You nodded, snuggling closer to him, your breath warm against his neck. “Mmhmm. This is nice. I could stay like this forever.”

He smiled, adjusting his hold on you slightly as he continued walking. “I wouldn’t mind that either. But we should get you home. You had quite the night.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as you rested your head against him. “Yeah… tonight was fun. I think we broke the apartment, though. Sorry about that.”

Azriel shook his head, his smile growing. “Don’t worry about it. It’s your place—you can do whatever you want. And it’s nothing a little cleaning won’t fix.”

There was a brief pause before you giggled, the sound light and airy. “Do you think… do you think Rhys was mad? I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

Azriel’s lips brushed against your temple in a soft kiss. “No, I don’t think he was mad. Maybe a little surprised, but that’s all. He knows you were just having fun.”

You hummed in response, your fingers idly tracing patterns on the back of his neck. “Good. I wouldn’t want to get in trouble… But you know what’s funny?”

“What’s that?” he asked, his tone indulgent as he continued walking.

“I kept thinking,” you whispered, your voice a little more serious now, “that I was so happy tonight… because you weren’t just my mate, but also my best friend.”

Azriel’s heart swelled at your words, and he tightened his grip on you slightly. “I’m happy to hear that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re my best friend too, you know. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You smiled against his neck, feeling a wave of affection wash over you. “You’re so sweet, Az. The best.”

He chuckled again, the sound low and warm. “I’m just being honest. Now let’s get you home, so you can get some rest. You’ve had a long night.”

“Mmhmm. This is very comfortable. I think I’m enjoying this a little too much.”

Azriel’s grip on you tightened slightly, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he tried to maintain control. “Is that so?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of his neck. “I’ve always liked being this close to you… feeling you.”

He sucked in a breath, the sound a mixture of surprise and desire. “You’re drunk,” he reminded you gently, though there was a strain in his voice as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

“Maybe,” you admitted, your lips brushing against his skin as you spoke. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

Azriel’s steps faltered as you reached the townhouse, his heart hammering in his chest. You could feel the way his pulse quickened under your touch, and it only made you more bold. “And what is it you want?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You smiled against his neck, your teeth grazing his skin ever so lightly. “I want you, Az. Always.”

His breath hitched as he carried you inside, the familiar darkness of the townhouse wrapping around you both. Without a word, he started toward his bedroom, the tension between you crackling like electricity.

He pushed the door open with his foot and crossed the threshold, finally setting you down on the edge of his bed. But before he could step back, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down to you, your lips crashing against his in a fierce, hungry kiss.

Azriel groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips, pulling you closer as you leaned back onto the bed, dragging him down with you. His wings flared out behind him, twitching as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan again.

He pulled back slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked down at you, your face flushed, eyes dark with desire. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice thick with need.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down to you as your hands slid under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest. “I’m sure,” you whispered against his lips, your voice a sultry invitation.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Azriel’s lips crashed back onto yours, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive hunger. You could feel the heat of his skin against yours as he tore at your clothes, desperate to feel you, to have you.

His hands slid up under your shirt, fingers brushing over your bare skin, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as he kissed his way down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

He paused at the hem of your shirt, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at you. You nodded, and he pulled the fabric over your head, tossing it aside before his mouth descended on your chest, his tongue tracing a path down to your breasts.

You gasped as his lips closed around your nipple, his hand sliding down to the waistband of your pants. With a quick tug, he had them off, leaving you bare beneath him. Azriel’s eyes raked over your body, taking in every curve, every inch of skin as if he were memorizing you.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice reverent as his hands slid down your sides, his lips following the path of his hands.

You reached for him, pulling him back up to you, needing to feel his skin against yours. “I need you,” you whispered, your voice breathless with anticipation.

Azriel shuddered at your words, his lips capturing yours in another searing kiss as he positioned himself above you. He hesitated for just a moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt, but all he found was desire, love, and a deep, unyielding trust.

With a soft groan, he slid into you, the sensation drawing a gasp from both of you as your bodies finally connected, fitting together perfectly. He moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of being with you like this, but it wasn’t long before the tension between you became too much to bear.

You moved together, each thrust deepening the connection between you, your moans and gasps filling the room as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. Azriel’s hands roamed over your body, his touch sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as he whispered your name like a prayer.

As you neared the edge, you tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer as you felt the wave of pleasure crashing over you. Azriel followed soon after, his movements becoming erratic as he buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he reached his climax.

For a moment, the world stood still, the only sound the ragged breaths of you and Azriel as you held each other close. Then, slowly, the tension ebbed away, leaving you both in a state of blissful exhaustion.

As you both lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow, a soft giggle escaped your lips. Azriel, still holding you close, raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice low and affectionate.

You shifted slightly, a playful glint in your eyes as you rolled over, pushing him onto his back. Azriel let out a surprised laugh, his hands instinctively moving to rest on your hips as you straddled him, your hair falling around your face in a soft curtain.

“What do you have in mind, love?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and desire.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Something the girls showed me earlier…”

Azriel’s eyes darkened with intrigue as you began to move your hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, your hands sliding up his chest. He sucked in a breath, his fingers digging into your thighs as he tried to hold on to the last remnants of his control.

“Is that so?” he murmured, his voice rough with anticipation.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, your lips trailing soft kisses down his jawline as you continued to move against him, the friction sending shivers of pleasure through both of you.

Azriel’s hands roamed over your body, his touch growing more desperate as you began to pick up the pace, your hips rolling in a way that had him groaning your name.

“Y/N…” he rasped, his eyes locked onto yours as you took control, guiding him deeper inside you with each movement.

You bit your lip, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you leaned down to kiss him, your tongue teasing his as your movements became more intense. Azriel’s grip on your hips tightened, his wings flaring out behind him as he struggled to keep up with the pleasure you were giving him.

“What did those girls teach you?” he managed to say between gasps, his voice filled with both awe and amusement.

You just grinned, moving your hips in a way that had him arching off the bed, a deep groan escaping his lips. “Just a little something they thought you might enjoy.”

Azriel’s eyes fluttered closed, his head falling back against the pillow as he surrendered to the sensations you were giving him. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, though the smile on his face told you he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You chuckled, leaning down to kiss him deeply as you pushed both of you closer to the edge. “Then let’s make it worth it.”

With that, you moved even faster, your bodies moving in perfect sync as the pleasure built to a crescendo. The room was filled with the sound of your moans and gasps, the intensity of the moment taking you both higher and higher until finally, you both shattered together, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave.

As you collapsed onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily, Azriel wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high.

“That was…” Azriel began, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the words.

“Amazing?” you offered, your voice still breathless as you snuggled against him.

“Amazing,” he agreed, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “But also… unexpected.”

You giggled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “Just trying to keep things interesting.”

Azriel smiled, his hands sliding up and down your back in a soothing motion. “You definitely succeeded. But now, I think it’s time for some sleep.”

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion starting to catch up with you. “Yeah… sleep sounds good.”

With a contented sigh, you let your eyes drift closed, still wrapped in Azriel’s warm embrace. And as you drifted off to sleep, a satisfied smile on your lips, you knew that no matter what surprises the night brought, you and Azriel would always find a way to enjoy them together.

---

don't hesitate to comment, I read them ;)

[javier-pena]

three's a crowd

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader x Joel Miller

Word Count: 9.9k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You’re in love with Frankie and he is in love with you, but you both have no idea how to act on it. Until Joel Miller comes along.

Warnings: friends to lovers | alcohol consumption | smoking | pining | jealousy | reader’s hair can get wet without it being an issue | Joel is kinda sleazy in this (but reader is very much into it) | mentions of cheating | protective Frankie | threesome m/f/(m) | a surprising amount of biting | the oral fixation in this is insane, I’m sorry | it’s all about hands and fingers | voyeurism | semi-public sex | cuck!Frankie but also not really (guess you’ll have to read it to find out what that means) | nipple play | (brief) fingering | (very brief) masturbation (m) | unprotected p in v sex | rough sex | spanking | orgasm delay | overstimulation | creampie

Notes: I started writing this fic in June and it was supposed to be a fun little summer thing and then stuff happened and now it's October - but here it finally is. There isn't really much I can say about it except that Dani @alexturner saved the whole thing by pointing out that the final fic wasn't really like what I had talked about while discussin the idea with her and after editing it, it's much, much better. I also had a lot of fun talking about Frankie's and Joel's backstory with you, Dani 🤭 maybe I'll write that one day ...

“D’you wanna fuck her, Miller?”

BEFORE

It must have been two years ago, or maybe it was three. Your hair was longer, you had just broken up with your boyfriend of five years, had just moved to a town where you didn’t know a single soul. “A fresh start is what you need.” That’s what your therapist said to you when you cried your heart out after Derek dumped you and moved in with his new girlfriend a week later. But she hadn’t been talking about this, moving halfway across the country, all the way from Maine, where the winters are cold and the air is always salty, to Texas, where it almost never snows and the tornado sirens make you run for cover.

That’s how you met Frankie, sweet, smiling Frankie. Your truck broke down in the grocery store parking lot and he jump-started it. He stuck out to you because he was wearing a pale blue baseball cap, bleached from countless summers under the hot Texan sun, and not a cowboy hat like all the other men around. You bought him dinner at that steak place that would become your favorite, and after three shots of tequila you opened up to him. He held you when you started to cry, took you home, slept on your couch when you asked him not to leave.

You’ve been friends ever since.

He showed you around San Antonio, he flew you to Enchanted Rock in a helicopter he rented, he even took you to Mexico where you found out he speaks Spanish fluently. He helped you fix the roof of your bungalow when it started leaking. You, in turn, took him to the cinema, made him watch horror movies that made him squeal, dragged him along to a rodeo, taught him how to ride a motorcycle when he told you he had always wanted to learn. The two of you just clicked. It felt right.

Now, after three years, you can’t imagine your life without Frankie in it. You don’t remember who you were before him, and you don’t want to. He’s your best friend, and you’re his. Where one of you goes, the other follows. And of course, people mistake you for a couple, of course they ask, “And what about your girlfriend here?”, they say, “You’re lucky to be dating such a nice young fella”. You always laugh, correct them lightheartedly. But sometimes you wish they were right. You love Frankie as a friend, more than you ever thought you could love anyone, but sometimes you want more.

You almost got that more about a year after meeting Frankie. One of his friends, Santi, was in town, and you went out with a group before taking advantage of the hot tub that came with Santi’s motel. There were drinks involved, one thing led to another, and suddenly you found yourself straddling Frankie, wearing nothing more than a bikini, your fingers tugging on his curls, his hands roaming all over your body. It didn’t go any further than that, and the next morning he dropped you off at your house with his usual, “See ya ‘round.” He never talked about it and neither did you. He was probably regretting it and you didn’t want to lose him over something like this, so you left it all unsaid.

He started dating someone soon afterwards, first Arabella, then Bessie, and you hated them both, even though they were probably decent women. Luckily, neither relationship lasted long because it hurt. You didn’t tell Frankie, acted perfectly civil around them, but it felt as if your heart had been dropped from a great height and had shattered against the pavement. You had to ease that pain with a couple of meaningless one-night-stands but they couldn’t take your mind off Frankie buried deep in another woman when it should have been you. And when you told him about Billy and Carson and Hank and Landon and Clara to provoke him to do something, he just shrugged it off and said, “I’m glad you had a nice evening.”

Frankie is single now, and so are you, and life is good. It isn’t always easy, but it’s a far cry from how it was in Maine. You’ve made peace with the whole Frankie situation, realizing it might just be enough knowing you’re the most important person in his life, even if you’ll never have him completely. This way, there also won’t be a messy breakup, hurtful things said in anger, actions you can never undo. You’re content with being Frankie’s best friend, and that should be enough.

It's summer now, one of the hottest on record. The AC in your bungalow broke and Frankie wanted to help you fix it, but then he got busy at work. That was almost a week ago, and you use these circumstances as an excuse to hang out at Frankie’s place as much as possible. He doesn’t mind. He has a big pool in his backyard that he always shares with you, and he loves your company. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s putting off fixing your AC on purpose.

You’re floating on your back, eyes closed, the sounds around you muffled by the water. Frankie is lounging in a chair by the side of the pool, resting in the shade after a hot day. Every time you glance over at him, his eyes are closed. That gives you the freedom to truly look, to see him how not many people are allowed to see him.

You take a deep breath and dive, floating weightlessly for a few seconds. It’s so easy to imagine this to be your life, Frankie to be your boyfriend. If he were, nothing would be different. You’d get to use your shared pool, watch him doze in the shade, help him prepare dinner later, laugh at his corny jokes … Your heart squeezes when you realize you have all of that and still it isn’t enough. What’s missing is riding him by the side of the pool, your bodies sticky with sweat. What’s missing is kissing his neck while he’s watching the brazier. What’s missing is knowing he’s yours and you’re his, come what may.

There’s a shadow by the side of the pool, and you scramble upwards, breaking through the surface with a gasp. “What?” you ask, smiling up at Frankie, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand.

Frankie gives you a thumbs up. “Just making sure you’re not drowning.”

You’re treading water as you say, “Would you jump in and rescue me if I was?”

He laughs. “I’m pretty sure you’re a better swimmer than me.”

“I’d make it worth your while.” You wink at him.

He lowers himself into a crouch so he’s closer to the surface of the water, closer to you. “How?”

“Ever heard of mouth-to-mouth?”

He laughs one of those laughs that comes from deep inside his chest and shakes his whole body. “Leave it to you to make saving someone’s life sound sexy.”

“But it is sexy,” you say emphatically. “Imagine pulling me from the pool, your big, strong arms wrapped around me. I think you’d stay calm and collected; you’d know exactly what to do. Any woman who doesn’t fall for you after that would be a fool.”

Frankie dips his fingers into the water and flicks some of it in your direction. You squeal and try to duck, but the drops still hit you in a quick shower. “Shut up,” Frankie laughs.

You use your whole hand to try and shove the water back toward him. You miss. “Stop it,” you tell him, no weight behind your words, a broad smile on your face.

“Hey!” he shouts. “Don’t make me come in there, young lady.”

He always makes you laugh when he calls you that, the air of authority he puts into his words. You’re not that much younger than he is, but he always acts as if you’re 20 years his junior, while you have started calling him “gramps” to rile him up.

You propel yourself backward, away from him toward the opposite side of the pool. “You’re too chickenshit.”

“Oh, just you wait.” He starts to pull his shirt over his head, his cap that he always wears getting caught in the hem of the neckline. You really try not to but you can’t help looking at his soft belly, the white skin such a stark contrast to his tanned arms. You wonder what it would be like to touch him, what sounds he would make in response to the difference in pressure, if you were using your nails or –

“Am I interruptin’ somethin’?”

You don’t mean to, but you squeal at the sudden appearance of a strange man next to Frankie. You were so preoccupied staring at your friend you didn’t notice someone else approach.

Frankie lowers his shirt. His cheeks are slightly flushed. “Joel!”

You glance between the two men, but neither of them offers an explanation. Instead, a heavy silence settles itself over this already muggy afternoon.

Finally, the stranger, Joel, speaks. “Is this a bad time or –?”

“No, no,” Frankie quickly assures him while you bite down a harsh, “Yes, it is”. Frankie runs his palms down his shirt, trying to smooth the creased fabric. “I just … I had no idea you were in town.

“Well, I am,” Joel replies in a tone of voice that rubs you the wrong way. “I thought I’d drive by, see if you’re home.”

Frankie glances at you, seemingly only now remembering your presence. “This is Joel Miller,” he says in an oddly formal voice. “We sometimes work together.”

“Hi.” You raise your hand out of the water to wave at Joel, the smile you put on not reaching your eyes.

If you had to guess, you’d say Joel was older than Frankie by at least five years, maybe even ten. He’s taller too, broad-shouldered where Frankie tends to fold in on himself. His graying hair is slightly too long, but his graying beard makes him look handsome, especially when he gives you a twisted half-smile as if he’s fully aware of what he just interrupted and is taking pleasure in your discomfort and annoyance. You want him to leave but with a clench of your stomach you realize you also want him to stay.

“She your girlfriend?” Joel asks without pretense, nodding at you in a way that makes you clench your fists.

Frankie chuckles awkwardly, a sound you only heard a few times before and always hated. He lifts his cap with one hand to scratch his scalp, then shakes his head. “No, we’re just friends.”

Joel shifts, rolls his shoulders ever so slightly. “Nice to meet you, just friend of Frankie’s.”

Can’t say the same about you, you want to say but if there’s one thing you learned from your years spent in the south is that there is nothing more important than hospitality. “You too,” you say instead, and start kicking the water, doing laps in the pool. If you ignore him, maybe he’ll leave soon.

But Frankie opens a beer bottle for him and Joel sits down in the lawn chair next to him, taking a big swig. You try to ignore them as best as you can, but you can’t keep your ears from straining to catch snippets of their conversation.

“… between jobs … just a couple o’ nights …”

“… go out tomorrow … bar in town …”

“… broke up with me ‘cause she … her friend …”

Sometimes Frankie laughs in a way he only does when he wants to impress someone. Usually, you can see it too, usually you admire the same people but there is something about Joel that makes alarm bells ring in your head. And you don’t like the way Frankie behaves around him. You don’t want to call it submissive because you hate that word, but it feels as if he’s putting up a front for Joel, not saying what he really wants to say, not doing what he really wants to do.

But then sometimes Joel’s eyes are on you, his gaze hooded, and he doesn’t look away when you catch him staring. There is something in the brazen way he does it that makes you crave more, and you’re a little bit disgusted with yourself for wanting that. You don’t know this man, and you don’t like what you glimpsed so far, but when he asks, “Any chance of you joinin’ us, sunshine?” you’re so very tempted to say yes.

“I wanna shower first,” you answer, pushing yourself up on the edge of the pool. Joel’s eyes immediately shoot to your chest while Frankie’s are glued to his bottle, his fingers busy picking at the label.

“Don’t keep us waitin’,” Joel says in a tone of voice that grates on you and makes you tighten your jaw. You want to flip him off, and he knows it too because he raises his half-empty bottle to you. You wish Frankie would say something, or at least acknowledge your presence, but a loose thread on his jeans has caught his attention now. Your chest tightens with annoyance and, even though you’re loath to admit it, hurt, and you huff at Joel before grabbing your towel and making your way toward Frankie’s house. You feel Joel’s eyes burn a searing mark into your back.  

You have no right to feel the way you do, you tell yourself as you work shampoo into your hair. Frankie can be friends with whomever he wants to. This is his house and he can let himself be treated however he sees fit. And you’re not dependent on him to defend you against a jerk like Joel, you can manage that all on your own. Besides, it’s not as if Joel is going to be around for long, he will most likely leave after another beer or two, so there really is no reason for you to get so worked up about it.

And yet …

You turn off the water with a quick jerk of your hand.

Stepping out of the shower, locating a fresh towel, it’s like second nature to you. You briefly bury the face in the soft fabric, inhaling the clean scent of Frankie’s detergent, a scent that will always bring you comfort. Then you pull one of the several dresses you keep at Frankie’s house over your head before using the towel to superficially dry your hair. It comes away smelling like him, which sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You’ve come to terms with it, you really have. Yes, you sometimes dream about kissing him, yes, you can’t stop fantasizing about what the two of you would be like as a couple, but what you have is nice. And it feels like it should be enough, which should count for something, right?

“Took your sweet time in there, sunshine.”

You jump, only registering Joel’s presence leaning against the opposite wall as you pull the bathroom door closed behind you.

“There’s a half bath next to the kitchen,” you tell him, avoiding his searing gaze. “You know, if you need to go.”

You try to scurry down the hallway and back out into the garden, but Joel pushes himself off the wall and steps into your way. “I don’t,” he answers. “I was looking for you.”

You sigh and look up at him, hoping he’ll notice your mild annoyance. “Why?”

“Frankie’s busy with dinner.” His gaze sweeps you from your damp hair down to your bare feet, widening as he notices your dress is slightly too tight at your chest. “And you look like good company.” Before you can come up with a snide remark, he’s two steps closer and his hand is suddenly resting on your waist, his palm hot to the touch even through the fabric. “You’re certainly prettier.”

The sudden contact, his brazen approach catches you off-guard. It’s been years since a man has treated you like this, and many years more since you were free to do with that whatever you wanted.

“Come on.” Why is his voice so low suddenly? “Cat got your tongue?”

You roll your eyes. “N-”

But before you’re able to finish the second short sound, the thumb of his free hand is on your bottom lip and he starts to pull it down. “Let me check.”

Before your brain can consider all your options, you bite down on his finger, hard, out of reflex, drawing a hiss from him. He pulls back, steps away, shakes his hand. But that sleazy half-smile is still firmly fixed on his face. “Oh, you’re a little fighter, is that it?”

You take a step closer to him in an attempt to intimidate him, but he doesn’t budge. “I just don’t like it when people touch me without my permission.”

“I bet that sweet little pussy of yours is tellin’ a different tale.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shove him, both palms hitting his chest, and he loses some ground.

He tries to snatch your wrist but you’re too fast for him. “Careful, sunshine. Don’t irritate me.”

“Why?” You push your chin forward in defiance. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Oh, I have some ideas.” Joel reaches for your waist again, but you manage to step back quickly. He balls his hand into a fist. “I just ain’t sure you’d like them very much.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“I’d like to teach you some,” he shoots back.

The sound of Frankie clearing his throat makes you jump. He’s standing behind Joel, just inside the sliding door that leads into the garden, a cocktail shaker in his hand, an apron covering his chest. “Drinks are ready,” he announces, his voice tense. Then he turns around, leaving you to wonder how long he’s been standing there and how much he heard.

Your stomach curls tightly with shame. Not because of anything he might have overheard or because of anything you did, but because you liked the way Joel talked to you, you liked that he decided he wanted you and went for it. You liked being close to him, feeling his uninvited touch on your body, hearing him say those lewd things. And all the while you forgot about Frankie, for the first time in months.

Joel glances at you and some of the shame must show on your face because he says, “If I kissed you right now, do you think he’d punch me?”

And just like that you’re back to feeling the slow grating of annoyance, like nails scraping down a chalkboard. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you huff before pushing past him and stepping back out into the garden.

The evening light is softer now, the heat feels less oppressive. The sun has begun to dip toward the horizon, and Frankie’s shadow is long against the grass as he waits for you to rejoin him by the pool. You want to put on your brightest smile for him, want to show him how much you appreciate everything he is doing for you, but with him you never have to pretend. Your face lights up when you see him whether you want it to or not, your steps quicken, your heart feels full of happiness. Even someone like Joel can’t ruin that, no matter how hard he might try.

“All clean?” Frankie has a lopsided grin on his face and a martini glass in his hand. When you nod, he hands it to you. “I made it just the way you like it.”

“Thanks, honey,” you tease and playfully kiss his cheek.

“This one’s for you.” Frankie hands Joel a tumbler full of amber liquid.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Just whiskey?”

“You seem like a whiskey kinda guy,” Frankie answers with a shrug before taking off his apron and hanging it over the backrest of his lawn chair.

“What are you having?” you ask, sitting down on one of the sun loungers Frankie keeps next to the pool.

Frankie lightly shakes his beer bottle. “I’ll stick with this for now.”

You glance from him to Joel and then back to him as both men remain standing, clutching their drinks. “Well, this is nice and relaxing.”

“Sorry,” Frankie mumbles and lets himself fall back into his chair. “Long day.”

Joel chuckles and steps forward, but instead of choosing the chair next to Frankie’s, he sits down on the sunbed right next to you. The rough denim of his jeans scrapes against your naked thigh and you scoot away from him, clearing your throat. Joel doesn’t seem to have noticed; his eyes are fixed on Frankie.

“You never told me you had a nice place like this,” he says, vaguely waving his hand at the pool and the manicured lawn. “I would’ve come over much sooner.”

“Where do you live?” you ask before Frankie can say something.

Joel chuckles before taking a sip from his whiskey. “You know what would go great with this?” He pulls a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of the back pocket of his jeans, conveniently having to lean against you to retrieve it. You push back, refusing to make yourself small. He holds the pack out to you first, but you shake your head. He doesn’t offer it to Frankie.

“She asked you a question.”

Your eyes snap from the sight of Joel lighting a cigarette, the filter hugged firmly between his lips, to Frankie, who has his elbows propped up on his knees, a thumb and forefinger wrapped around the neck of the beer bottle, holding it precariously.

Joel takes a drag from his cigarette and exhales slowly. The smoke tickles your suddenly very dry throat. “I live here and there,” he finally replies. “Wherever work takes me.”

“Okay, so where do you currently live?” you probe.

Joel waves his hand around. “Y’know …”

“What he means to say is that he’s currently between houses,” Frankie clarifies, a slight tension in his voice you haven’t heard before.

“Oh, so you’re a bum?” Is Frankie’s face lighting up with satisfaction at your comment or are you only imagining that?

Joel takes another drag. “I’m whatever you want me to be.”

It was bad enough that he had no regard for your boundaries when Frankie wasn’t right there next to you, but he can’t expect you to just take it now that Frankie is this close. You try to stand up, but his hand closes around yours and pulls you back down next to him, the force of it making some of your drink spill.

“Hey!” you protest loudly, but he only slings his arm around your shoulder.

“His girlfriend just kicked him out,” Frankie goes on, pretending he didn’t notice what just went down. “He cheated on her with her best friend.”

“Couldn’t have been a very good friend then.” You pick Joel’s heavy arm off your shoulders and let it fall down next to you.

Joel shrugs. “If I see somethin’ I want, I take it.”

“Must be lonely, going through life with that mindset,” you observe, watching him as he stubs out the cigarette against the tiles surrounding the pool.

“Depends on what you want out of life, I s’pose.”

You glance up at the slowly darkening evening sky, currently a soft, darkening blue, then take a sip from your very strong martini. “And what is that?” you ask, watching a bird glide across the sky.

“D’you wanna fuck her, Miller?”

AFTER

“Yes.” It comes out rough and breathless and eager, and suddenly your blood is rushing in your ears. You have no idea when the evening shifted to this, but you suppose it was inevitable from the moment Joel walked in. You just didn’t think Frankie would be the one to ask the question.

You glance at Frankie, sweet Frankie, who always respects you, always treats you like you’re royalty, and you see something in his gaze you’ve never seen before, a sort of strangled curiosity, like he’s desperate to find out where this might go, but unsure if he can handle the way there. You smile at him, and you nod, and his pupils dilate immediately, setting your heart pounding. That’s all he needs from you, and all you need from him.

Frankie puts his beer bottle on a small table next to his chair, leans back, crosses one leg over the other, ankle resting against his thigh. “Tough luck, pal,” he says, and next to you Joel stiffens. “You can kiss her though.”

For a moment, you’re right back there in high school, a bottle pointing at you, your friend Ines grinning at you from across the circle, Billy licking his lips nervously. But you’re all grown up now, you’ve played these games a million times, should know their rules by heart. Then why are your hands so sweaty?

Joel doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even wait for you to turn toward him. His hand is already at the back of your neck while your eyes are still on Frankie, and his lips have found yours while you’re still trying to decipher the look in Frankie’s gaze. The kiss is rough, almost unpleasantly so, and you can taste the nicotine and whiskey on Joel’s tongue that claims your mouth with hungry licks. Joel’s whole body is pushing against yours, and you push back, pressing your chest against his, making his concentration slip briefly. You use this moment of inattention to gain the upper hand and bite his lip, less violently than you bit his finger but hard enough for him to inhale sharply. Maybe even hard enough to draw a little bit of blood.

Joel shifts, tightens his hold on your neck, and pushes up against you even more, like he’s trying to get you to lie down and submit to him. Resisting his efforts gives you a feeling of power you’re unable, maybe even unwilling, to control. You’re still trying to come to terms with the newness of the situation, with the shift that has taken place, but you know exactly what you want, and that is not to give up one inch to Joel without making him work hard for it.

Joel’s hand is on your naked thigh now, tough callouses rubbing against smooth skin. Just like his kisses, it almost feels too violent, but then you remember Frankie’s hands roaming your body in that hot tub, the way the water hadn’t managed to soften his skin. You remember how much you wanted him that night, and suddenly you wish Joel would touch you more.

As if he can read your thoughts, Joel’s hand is suddenly at the underside of your breast, cupping it through the fabric of your dress, his thumb finding the nipple so confidently as if he has touched you a million times before. Your body responds to the touch immediately and you lean into it, your lips parting in a stifled moan. The pad of his thumb rubs across your hardening nipple, rolls it through the dress and the bra you’re wearing, and you should push him away, make him feel like his efforts are futile and he has no effect on you whatsoever, but it’s been too long. Too fucking long. You’re on fire, unpleasantly so, feeling like you’re burning up too fast, like the flames have barely touched you and you’re already turning to ash. You press yourself into Joel’s touch as your jaw slackens, and he grabs your breast and squeezes it roughly while pushing his tongue into your mouth with the sole intent of making you gag.

“Hey!” Frankie’s voice is sharp, but when you flinch away from Joel and glance over at him, he’s still sitting in his chair holding his bottle of beer.

Your ears feel hot with shame as you refuse to acknowledge Joel’s presence and avoid Frankie’s gaze. Frankie was the one to suggest the kiss, Joel made the first move – then why do you feel such shame? Like you’ve been caught cheating? Why do you feel it’s wrong to –

“What?” Joel asks, interrupting the spiral you’re about to slide down.

Frankie squeezes the neck of the bottle, his skin making a wet sound against the glass. “We said kiss.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see that sleazy smirk return to Joel’s lips. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a little second base.”

Frankie seems to consider this, his eyes fixed to the ground beneath his feet. You wish you could tell what was going on in his mind, but your heart is still racing like you’re being hunted for sport and your body is screaming for Joel to put his hands on you again, and all of that is too much to read Frankie.

Frankie holds out a hand to Joel. “Cigarette,” he says, and Joel obliges. You watch Frankie light it up and take a deep drag, a sight so unfamiliar it makes you eager to commit it to memory. “So you really wanna fuck her then?” he finally asks.

There is a pressure low in your abdomen that makes you shift against the lounger.

Joel only laughs, crude and hoarse, as if deigning that question with an answer is below him. “Where did you get that idea from?”

Frankie takes another drag, a short one this time, before glancing directly at Joel’s crotch. You follow his gaze to find a bulge there, one that definitely wasn’t there before, straining against the stiff fabric. When Joel’s eyes find yours, you make sure he sees you lick your lips. His jaw twitches.

Frankie leans back comfortably in his chair, some of the ash from the cigarette landing on his pants. He brushes it off with a flick of his wrist. “I’ll let you fuck her. But you’re gonna do exactly as I say.”

You think you must have entered a parallel universe or another dimension. For a short while at least. None of it makes sense: the cigarette in Frankie’s hand, the way he talks and what he says, that man next to you who is nothing more than a stranger, who had his tongue in your mouth two minutes ago, and that all of this makes you wetter than you can ever remember being. But then Frankie’s eyes meet yours, dark pupils blown unfamiliarly wide, and yet there is something in them you recognize – this isn’t a stranger who is looking at you, this is your best friend. No matter what happens next, he’s going to look out for you. All you need to do is trust him.

Next to you, Joel shifts, adjusting his crotch. He licks his lips. “Yeah.” He nods. “Okay.”

Your eyes are on Frankie now, heart racing in your chest, mouth completely dry, as you wait for what comes next. Your brain is running hot trying to go through all the possibilities of what Frankie could have Joel do to you, but all you come back to is Frankie kneeling in front of you, spreading your legs. Joel is nothing more than a shadow beside you, watching with a hungry gaze.

Frankie leans forward and reaches out his hand as if he means to touch you, but then stops himself and leans back. “You don’t have to do as you’re told.” The softness in his voice catches you by surprise, but he goes on before you can analyze it. “To start, do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You glance at Joel, at how stiff his shoulders are, and you face him, trembling fingers pulling his shirt up where it is tugged into his jeans. Up and up you pull it until he has to raise his arms for you to get it off, and then you finally see his body betray his nerves as his chest flushes a deep red. There is a scar on his left collarbone, old and slightly brighter than the skin around it, there are some sparse, dark gray hairs on his chest, and his stomach is so much firmer than Frankie’s, so much less inviting.

Joel huffs and your gaze shoots back up to his face. “Kinda boring, don’t ya think? Pullin’ off my shirt when you could’ve done anythin’ to me?”

You won’t let him get to you, not like that, not when Frankie’s eyes are on you. “There’s no shame in me enjoying myself by taking things slow,” you retort. “I know your first move would’ve been to stuff two fingers into me but where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh, you’re gonna see where the fun in that is when you’re comin’ ‘round ‘em,” he replies with that infuriatingly sleazy smile darkening his face.

You lean in just a tiny bit closer. “Only if Frankie lets you.” God, that thought turns you on so much your head starts to spin.

Once you recover, Joel’s right hand is cupping your jaw, his grip firm, while his thumb rests against your lips. “Someone should stuff that mouth o’ yours.”

You open your mouth then, until his thumb is only pressing against your bottom lip. You let it slide in past your teeth until you can feel it on your tongue, heavy, tasting like nicotine. You close your lips around the digit and suck on it, your cheeks hollowing, your tongue massaging it. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches. Somewhere to your right, you hear Frankie’s chair groan.

The sound of Frankie’s voice interrupts you. “I want you to take off her dress.”

With a wet plop, Joel pulls his thumb out of your mouth and then starts pulling at the straps of your sundress, pushing them down your shoulders.

“Slowly,” Frankie adds, his voice calm as if he’s talking to a semi-feral animal.

Joel moves you so both your feet are planted firmly on the ground, then shifts so he’s behind you. He finds the zipper at the back of your dress and begins to pull it down, torturously slowly as if there is something he wants to prove to Frankie. As more and more of your skin is revealed, he brushes over it, calloused fingers making you shiver. His hands feel so much like Frankie’s, and yet not at all like him. Frankie would be soft and gentle too, but he wouldn’t scrape you with his short nails, he wouldn’t tremble like it takes everything in him not to devour you whole.

The fabric of your dress glides down your shoulders and back, and comes to rest around your hips. It isn’t anything Frankie hasn’t seen before – your breasts are still covered, after all – and yet there is something in his gaze when you look at him, a strange kind of longing, like desire that has been kept in check for so long it has become second nature to him. You can see it in the flare of his nostrils, in the darkening of his eyes, in the way his bottom lip trembles briefly before he darts out his tongue to wet it. And yet he sits there, watching, his body unmoving like it has been trained not to give in.

“Take off her bra.”

Even Frankie’s voice is controlled and even. You shift, pulling back your shoulders and pushing out your chest in an attempt to get him to break, but his gaze shifts from you to Joel as he waits for the other man to follow his orders. Joel doesn’t need to be told twice. He flicks open the clasp at your back with one hand and your bra falls away. You push out your chin, willing your face not to heat up.

Frankie’s throat works as he swallows, a small crack in the otherwise impenetrable wall he has put up. “You’re perfect …” His voice, too, cracks on the second syllable and he coughs. “Wouldn’t you agree, Joel?”

Joel doesn’t reply. Instead, he cups one of your breasts again and squeezes the nipple tightly between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch you back as a small stab of pain shoots through you. Now that the protective barrier of fabric is gone, you can feel just how rough his skin is against your sensitive spots, how his callouses catch in places your own fingers smoothly glide over. Your head falls back against his shoulder as he pinches your nipple again, as he begins to roll it roughly, pull on it from time to time to hear you hiss.

Joel’s chest rises and falls against your back, hot skin pressing into hot skin, his breath caressing the back of your neck. He runs his nose from your earlobe all the way down to your shoulder, then back up again, but before he reaches the starting point, he sinks his teeth into your neck and bites down, drawing a shivering gasp from you. And then he doesn’t let go. He bites down harder, holding you in place, while cupping your breast with his entire hand, kneading it until your world tilts.

You’re not aware of how desperate you are to find purchase, but the garden and the pool and the sky above right themselves when your hand finds Joel’s thigh. The denim is rough beneath your palm, but he is a rough man so it doesn’t surprise you. What does surprise you though is how hard you have to fight to keep yourself from bucking your hips.

“Joel, stop.”

For just a short little while you had forgot Frankie is there with you, but his voice reminds you with brute force. And when Joel does as he’s told and you are left with nothing to distract you, all you can do is look at your best friend, at his fingers wrapped around that cigarette, and wonder what it would feel like to have him play with your nipple instead of Joel. The painful way your heart constricts at that thought utterly catches you by surprise.

Frankie takes a final drag on his cigarette, flicks the butt away, and clears his throat. “You’ll only do what I tell you to do.”

You shift, the fabric of your underwear rubbing against your clit sending a bolt of desperation through you, mixing with that unbearable longing to create a heady, dangerous cocktail. “Frankie, please.”

Frankie takes you in, and you have no idea what he sees, but he runs his thumb across his bottom lip and asks, “Do you want him to touch you?”

Joel runs his fingers up and down your arm, his touch so light it feels like torture. You try to squirm away but he keeps you trapped against his chest.

You exhale shakily. “Yeah.” There’s a brief moment of hesitation, one that makes your heart flutter as you decide whether you should keep going. You do. “God, I’m so wet.”

Joel’s wandering fingers close around your upper arm like a vise.

But Frankie keeps up his walls. “Show me how wet she is, Joel.”

You don’t think there has ever been a moment in your life where you were more turned on, a single moment where you were less in control of your body and your desires. You try to stand up, your legs trembling like you just finished a marathon, hands wrapped around your dress, ready to pull it all the way down. Joel doesn’t even let you straighten your back. He pulls you back against his chest and wraps an arm around yours before running his free hand down your stomach, not seductively or teasingly but as if he has a task to fulfill. You’ve barely registered the sensation of his fingers against your lower stomach before he has pushed them past the fabric bunched around you hips and into your underwear, and this time you lose the battle against your own body. You roll your hips into his touch as your eyes flutter shut, you push and push, moans and whimpers urging him on. He doesn’t need to be encouraged – he rolls your clit beneath his index finger, just like he rolled your nipple, before dipping it lower, pushing past the muscles at your opening and up into you.

Before you can make sense of it all, he removes his hand and holds up two fingers right in front of your eyes, glistening with your slick. Your chest heaving, you try to catch your breath.

Frankie’s eyes are wide open. “What does she taste like?” he asks, his voice rough as if he hasn’t used it in quite some time.

Joel rubs his thumb against his index and middle finger, toying with your slick. “Don’t you want to find out for yourself?”

Frankie nods so slightly you can’t be sure it really happens, then hides behind a smirk, and you feel something unbearably insisting curl up tightly in the pit of your stomach. “You tell me.”

Suddenly, Joel’s fingers are at your lips, pushing into your mouth. You open up, surprised by the sudden intrusion, and then his thick digits are pressing down against your tongue, making you gag. Tears are filling your eyes, and spit drips out of your mouth as you feel Joel’s hot breath against the shell of your ear.

“Tell him.”

You can’t, not even if you wanted to. Not because you can’t taste yourself on Joel’s skin, not because you can’t talk with his fingers filling up your mouth, but because Frankie flies out of his chair, brow furrowed and fists clenched. Before he can come to your aid, you close your hand around Joel’s wrist and push his fingers even deeper into your mouth, not breaking eye contact with Frankie, not even for a split second.

Joel presses down against your tongue and you suck on his fingers eagerly, but none of that matters to you. The only thing you care about is the red flush creeping up Frankie’s neck and into his cheeks, and the way he keeps closing the distance between the three of you until he’s standing right there, close enough for you to reach out and run your hands up and down his thigh.

Frankie’s hand is warm and heavy as it closes around yours, pulling Joel’s fingers out of your mouth. You gasp, unable to prevent a thin thread of spit from connecting your lips to Joel’s hand. It winks out of existence a second later when Frankie’s mouth clashes against yours, drawing another gasp from you, one that releases months and months of pent-up longing, one that originates deep in your chest but almost dies on your lips, stifled by wonder.

It isn’t a soft kiss, it isn’t even particularly well executed since your teeth clash painfully and Frankie pushes too hard too quickly. He also tastes more like Joel than himself, of beer and cigarettes, but none of that matters. He could have given you a small peck on the cheek and it would have been the greatest kiss you had ever shared with anyone. You feel his breath against your cheek, a shaky exhale, and before you can stop yourself, you find yourself fisting his shirt, fingers clenched so tightly you will never be able to let go again. That is all you ever wanted, all you ever prayed for, and now that you have it, you never want to lose it again.

Eventually, Frankie pulls back ever so slightly and whispers against your lips, “Summer, that’s what you taste like,” and it’s such a corny line it should have you rolling your eyes, but instead you crane your neck and seal your lips to his again, high from the feeling of your tongue in his mouth. He huffs and pushes up against you, but he’s not close enough – there’s still so much space between you. You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt and pull him even closer, but suddenly rough hands grab your arms and hold you back forcefully.

“I wanna go first.” It isn’t a request, that much is clear.

Frankie pulls back and smiles down at you, his face soft and open, searching for any indication you don’t want to do this anymore. Even though you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you want him right now, the thought of him watching while Joel fucks you, utterly in control of the situation, makes you clench around nothing. Frankie can tell – he switches back to his neutral mask in the matter of a second. “You didn’t do as you were told …”

It isn’t a threat, but it might as well be.

Joel hooks a thumb into your mouth and pulls down your bottom lip. You try to bite him again, but he is prepared this time, holding you in place. “Let me come in her mouth at least.”

Frankie grabs Joel’s wrist again and pulls his hand away from your face. “No.”

You have never heard him use that voice before, that kind of voice that makes you snap to attention, that voice that commands people to follow him. You shift, trying to rub your thighs together, but it’s just a primal reaction you have no control over. All your attention is on Joel trying to pull his wrist out of Frankie’s grip, and on Frankie holding him in place, the muscles in his arm straining.

“I’m going to sit back down, and you’re going to fuck her.” Frankie’s voice is so calm it sends a shiver down your spine. “Slowly,” he adds, letting go of Joel’s wrist. “And if you make her come before I tell you to, there’ll be consequences.”

Every muscle in your body tightens. You’re too wound up to rationally consider what Frankie is proposing, too wound up to think about how much you want this and what that might mean. You glance behind you to catch Joel’s reaction, to see if he’s just as affected by Frankie’s proposition as you are, just in time to watch him lick his lips.

“And I get to fuck her however I want?”

Frankie’s gaze shifts to you. It’s nothing more than a glance, a quick check-in, and you nod, just as quickly, just as imperceptibly.

“Yes,” Frankie answers.

Next thing you know, you’re up on the lounger, knees and hands braced against the soft pillows, faded from long summers under the hot Texan sun, focusing on the sounds of Joel unbuckling his belt. You feel your throat tighten at those sounds, leather scraping against skin, metal clicking against metal, but your mouth is too dry to swallow. Joel unzips his jeans, then there’s a rustling sound, followed by a deep, needy groan. It’s enough to make your heartbeat stumble over itself with excitement. You try to turn your head and glance behind you to see what he is doing, but Joel catches your movement and forces your head down, firm grip at the back of your skull.

“Stay.”

To your right, you hear the sound of Frankie shifting in his chair. He doesn’t intervene.

Joel grabs the bunched-up fabric of your dress with both hands and begins to tear it with quick, jerking movements, ruining it. It falls away and glides down to the ground where it comes to rest next to the lounger, leaving you almost completely exposed to Joel. And Joel doesn’t hesitate. He pushes the thin fabric of your underwear aside and sinks into you with one deep, calculated thrust you can feel in your chest.

Your fists clenched, your head hanging low, you try to take it, but his thrusts send shudders of pain up and down your body. It’s not unbearable, and it shouldn’t surprise you; he fucks like he does everything else – rough and with an edge of violence to it – but the stretch is uncomfortable, and the thrusts are greedy, so much so you wish he had surprised you after all.

“Slow down,” Frankie orders, and you lift your eyes to him. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and when Joel does as he’s told, he watches you closely, searching your face for any signs of the discomfort lessening. You shift, your body adjusting to the feeling of being so full, and when Frankie asks, his voice low, “You okay?” you realize that you are. You’re more than okay, actually. Two more shallow thrusts from Joel and you’re completely relaxed.

“Yeah,” you answer, just for Frankie to hear and his lips quirk up in a smile.

“We’re good,” he tells Joel.

Joel’s open palm lands against your ass cheek catching you unawares, as does the moan you let loose at the sudden burst of pain. Frankie swallows, or at least you think he does – you can’t be sure with your eyes flutterin shut. You push back against Joel, eager for more, pulling him deeper inside of you with a greedy clench.

“The way you’re clenchin’ ‘round me makes me think you’ve never had dick before.”

Joel’s voice comes out restrained, the words are punctuated by more slaps, one harder than the last. Their meaning is lost on you as you are reduced to a babbling mess, unable to retain anything that is happening outside of your desire for him. You gush around his cock, hot and wet and wanton, and somewhere between the thrusts and the grunts, you hear a chortle.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t ya.”

That chortle is what pulls you back into yourself, and you risk another glance behind you, hoping that this time he will let you see. He does, and you watch him pound into you, both hands on your hips, denim pulled just low enough to free his cock, dark hairs curling just above it, streaked with bulging veins. He has one knee braced against the lounger, one foot firmly planted on the ground. You almost hate yourself for being so affected by that sight, but you can feel everything tighten, your body begging for release.

“Fuck,” you groan, your voice breathy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna –”

With a condescending smirk, Joel reaches for your clit. “Go ahead, sunshine.”

You close your eyes, focusing on how you’re clenching around him. You’re so, so close, you can almost taste the release on your tongue. Your mouth hangs open, a moan begins to emerge from someplace deep inside your chest and –

Joel’s hips falter and still, and you can feel yourself flutter desperately around him, but it’s not enough. You glide along his length, coming down from the edge, frustration blossoming in the pit of your stomach. Joel’s fingers rest uselessly against your swollen clit, still as the rest of him, and whenever you try to grind yourself against them, his touch lessens.

“Joel …,” you whine, opening your eyes to look back at him.

It’s not Joel your gaze lands on. It’s Frankie, standing right there next to the lounger, one hand on Joel’s head, fisting his hair, pulling on it so his chin is raised high, his neck exposed, a thick vein pulsing near its base. Joel is breathing heavily, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t try to free himself, while Frankie looks down at him, darkness clouding his features.

“You’ll do as I tell you or I won’t let you come inside of her.”

Frankie lets go of Joel’s hair with a shove to drive home the point. Even now, freed from his restraint, Joel doesn’t fight back. He glares at Frankie as if he’s imagining beating him bloody, but he does like he’s told, removing his fingers from your clit to dig them back into your hip. He picks up the pace again, thrusts a little shallower than before, drawing a sigh of relief from you, scratching that undefinable itch Frankie restraining Joel like that triggered in you. That itch you don’t want to examine too closely right now but that you know you’ll return to.

Frankie pats Joel’s shoulder, two firm raps against the straining muscles. “Good boy.”

You clench so hard around Joel he must notice, but he doesn’t remark on it. He resumes the steady snapping of his hips while your eyes fall shut and drop down to your elbows, those two words floating around your mind like an echo.

Good boy.

A desperate little whimper escapes you, one at least Frankie seems to hear, because he runs two knuckles up and down your spine in a movement that is meant to calm you but shoves you toward the edge with a violent jolt. He must know what he’s doing to you, there is no way he hasn’t noticed. And it should fill you with shame, it should make you resent him, the way you lie bare before him, showing him the most vulnerable parts of yourself, but it only makes you want him more. You open your eyes to find him standing right next to you. This close, you can see how tight his pants stretch over the bulge you hadn’t noticed before, how you think you can even make out a dark spot of precum forming against the fabric. You lick your lips.

“Frankie, please.” Your voice is rough and broken, laced with desperation.

Joel shoves into you so violently you feel the thrust in your throat, but he doesn’t say anything.

Frankie leans down and places a soft kiss against your temple, then runs his thumb across your furrowed brow. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

You whish you could tell him you’ve been ready ever since he suggested Joel should fuck you, but you can only laugh, a broken sound followed by a hard swallow.

Frankie straightens his back, his eyes bright with excitement. “I see.” He makes his way back over to his chair and sits down, the wood groaning beneath his weight. “Go ahead, Joel.”

Joel picks up the pace, making every thought, every doubt you might have, instantly disappear from your head. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing you hard, and after that it doesn’t take long at all. After that, you let out a deep moan and push back against Joel so hard it makes him lose his rhythm, but it doesn’t matter. You’re coming, pulling him deeper into you as he fucks you through it, letting you squeeze him as you sink deep into pleasure, losing track of your body’s movements.

You come back to the surface when you’re spent, and everything feels sore and tender, but Joel doesn’t stop. There is a burning between your legs now and you hiss, reaching back for him.

Frankie is there next to you again, cupping your cheek. You have no idea when he approached, what made him leave his role as spectator this time, but you instantly relax when you feel his touch on him. “Just a little more,” he murmurs, calming you. “You can take it, I know you can.”

You watch him squeeze the bulge in his pants, and giving it another, harder squeeze when Joel grabs your wrist and pins it to the small of your back. The proof of how much he’s affected by you is enough to chase away the discomfort and rekindle the fire in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes glued to the bulge in Frankie’s pants you wonder what it would be like to feel him thrust into you, chasing his release, to feel him take what he needed from your body, fueled by how much you want him in return.

Finally, Joel stills and spills into you, groaning as his orgasm sparks through him. But your eyes are locked to Frankie’s, as neither of you dares to look away.

THE OUTCOME

The neon sign of the motel casts deep shadows into the cabin of Frankie’s pickup. Your gaze is fixed to the flashing letters, promising vacancy. A car rushes past, its tires whispering against the concrete, still hot from the Texan summer day. You try to ignore the tightness in your stomach, but when a door falls shut with a rattling bang somewhere nearby, you feel that sound like a punch to your gut.

“That was fun,” Joel says from the backseat. He stretches his legs, kicking his foot against your backrest. “If you ever wanna repeat that …” He lets the offer hang there in the air between you.

Frankie grabs the steering wheel tightly, the wood groaning under his skin. “We’ll know where to find you,” he finishes the sentence.

Joel braces both hands against your backrest and leans forward so his lips are close to your ear. “I think I’ll stick around for a while, so if you ever wanna grab some drinks, sunshine …”

Only half-listening, you reply, “Whatever,” fighting down the nausea you’ve been feeling ever since you climbed into Frankie’s truck.

“Whatever,” Joel echoes with a huff, opens the backdoor, and climbs out. “You know, I’ve had better,” he adds, before shutting the door with a loud bang.

“Hey!” Frankie barks, but you shake your head, and Frankie lets him walk away.

It doesn’t matter what Joel says to you. You couldn’t care less. Because as soon as Frankie starts the car, he’ll drive it straight over to your place, say goodnight without really looking at you, and tomorrow, he’ll pretend that none of this happened. Just like he did before. And as much as you hate that thought, you’re going to have to live with it.

As Joel climbs the stairs to the second-floor landing of the motel, you say, “You’ll want to take me home now, right?” It’s best to get it over with as quickly as possible.

The wood groans again, but this time from Frankie loosening his grip. He takes off his cap and runs his fingers through his ruffled curls. You don’t look at him, but you study him out of the corner of your eye, trying to read his face. He puts the cap back on, then slings his arm across the backrest of your seat. “Actually … I was hopin’ you’d come back to my place.”

The nausea you’ve been feeling pricks up its ears with interest and then curls up into a tiny ball, tugged away in a corner of your stomach. “Oh?” you say. And that’s all you manage before he closes the distance between you, his left hand cupping your jaw, his lips brushing against yours, tentatively, asking for permission. You give it to him by fisting his shirt, pulling him toward you, by smiling against his lips, exhaling all the tension in one short giggle, full of relief. He strokes his thumb across your cheek at the same time as you open up for him so he can brush his tongue against yours. You find yourself mirroring him, hand on his cheek, thumb running over the stubble there, relishing the feeling of him being so close.

You pull away first, and he follows you, mouth slightly open, chasing another taste. “What are we gonna do at your place? Do you have more friends who want to fuck me while you watch?” you ask, high from the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, from that promise that he won’t forget about any of this in the morning.

A neon flash lights up Frankie’s face, once, twice, as you watch his cheeks darken with a flush. He takes his time, studying your face closely. “No,” he says, his voice a low rumble, so unfamiliar it draws a smile from him, “I want to fuck you myself.”

If you enjoyed the fic, I'd love to hear from you 🥰 feel free to leave a comment or drop into my inbox anytime ...

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[unabashegirl]

Camping — oneshot

Harry and Y/N were friends in college until that day. Now they are being forced to face one another...

Author's note: this one shot was posted on Patreon a long time ago. Happy that you all have a chance to read it!

check out my patreon and get access to this week new one shot (y/n's bff dad) and much more :)

warning: smut

word count: 4.8K

masterlist

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"I can’t believe you’re making me do this," she said as April tossed her backpack into the back of her car. "This feels like kidnapping."

"Stop being so dramatic and get in the car," April replied, a big smile on her face. You and April had been best friends since college, bonding over the ridiculous workload assigned to your class each week. You were opposites: you loved city life, running water, and comfort, while April thrived on nature, adventure, and challenges. She adored plants and meticulously cared for the ones she had at home. In contrast, April had once gifted you a cactus, which you managed to kill.

"I got us muffins and coffee from that place you love," April said.

"Is this your way of bribing me into going?" you asked, reaching for the bag of treats. "I know this is Mark’s idea." April just shrugged as she started driving.

"Aren’t you tired of the city? This will be good for you! All you do is work, sleep, watch The Office, work out, and repeat," April said, giggling as you stopped chewing.

"Leave The Office out of this," you warned. It had been your favorite show since high school, your comfort show, always playing in your apartment. You even tried to get others hooked on it. "I’ve seen you laugh."

"Listen, there’s something I need to tell you," April said, turning down the music.

"Did Mark propose?" you asked immediately, knowing they were endgame. The three of you had met in college and stayed close ever since.

"No," April replied.

"You’re pregnant then?!"

"Shut up!" April interrupted. "Harry is coming. Mark invited him, and I had no say in it," she blurted out, like ripping off a band-aid.

"Oh! Let me out. I am not going," you said, instantly annoyed at the mention of his name. "I thought Mark and he weren’t friends anymore."

"He just came back from America. He called Mark a few weeks ago, and they had drinks and dinner together. Apparently, he’s changed and is more mature." You rolled your eyes as you finished eating your muffin. Your appetite was gone, and you felt suddenly nervous. "You have to let go of that grudge against him!"

"It’s not a grudge, April. The man ghosted me after we had sex. That was all he was after. Him leaving was the best thing that could have happened to all of us," you said. You had fallen for his charm, and after much convincing, you finally gave in during your senior year.

"You’ve moved on, and so has he. I’m just asking you to be polite, babe," April insisted. "I just want us to have a good time."

You sighed, leaning back in your seat as the cityscape blurred past. "Fine. But if he starts anything, I'm not holding back."

April laughed, patting your leg. "That's the spirit. Just remember, we're here to relax and have fun."

The rest of the drive was filled with casual chatter and music, the tension slowly easing. As you neared your destination, a clearing in the woods where you would set up camp, you couldn't help but appreciate the serene beauty of the place. The stress of city life began to melt away, replaced by a reluctant sense of peace.

April parked the car and you both got out, stretching your legs and taking in the fresh air. "It’s gorgeous out here," you admitted begrudgingly.

"See? Told you it would be worth it," April said, grinning.

Mark emerged from behind the car, waving. "Hey, you two! Glad you made it. I'm surprised you managed to convince Y/N,” he said, wrapping his arms around April.

“It took a lot,” April giggled as Mark kissed her cheek. “Muffins and coffee.”

“I can still go back,” you said, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. “How long is this hike going to take?” you asked, walking up to Mark and giving him a friendly side hug.

“About thirty minutes. Is that fine or are you going to melt?” he teased, grinning.

April slapped his chest playfully before opening the trunk to get the rest of the stuff out. “Where’s your friend, anyway? Or is he still the unpunctual asshole he always was?”

“M’ right here” Harry said as he emerged from the trail that they were going to take to the campsite. You abstained from saying anything surprised at his appearance. He had kept his good looks. He had even gotten more attractive with more age. However, you would never admit it aloud.

April turned to look at you with her eyes widen opened. You gave her the same look, letting her know that you agreed. Harry wore tiny black shorts that left little to imagination. His legs seemed to never end and his thighs were inked. His grey shirt was tight enough sculpt his chest and his pectorals. His curls were tucked under his basketball cap and his eyes hidden away by some aviator sunglasses.

“You were saying, Y/N? I didn’t catch the last part” Harry asked you, with a small smirk. “Are you still a yapping bitch?”

“Just that we should start the hike” You responded, looking straight at him. You weren’t the same quiet and shy girl you were in college. You had matured and life experiences had shaped you. You were more outgoing and vocal about your opinions.

“I thought so” you heard him say as you turned your back towards him.

As you all gathered the camping gear, the anticipation of the weekend settled in. The woods were peaceful, with the sun filtering through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Birds chirped in the distance, and the fresh scent of pine filled the air.

Mark led the way, carrying the heavier equipment with Harry, while April and you followed. Despite your reservations, the beauty of the surroundings began to work its magic, and you found yourself relaxing a bit.

After a short walk, you reached the designated camping spot, a small clearing by a bubbling brook. It was picturesque, almost like a scene from a nature magazine. You couldn’t help but admit, if only to yourself, that it was a nice change from the city’s hustle and bustle.

"That was more than thirty minutes," you complained, dropping to the ground to rest your legs. "You're lucky the view was pretty." Mark and April laughed, while Harry remained silent, just watching you.

"Let's set up camp," Mark said, and he and April began unloading the gear. You took the opportunity to pull out the speaker and connect your phone.

As you selected a playlist, music filled the air, blending with the natural sounds of the forest. You watched as Mark and April worked together seamlessly, their laughter and chatter a comforting background noise. Harry joined in, helping with the heavier items, his actions precise and deliberate. You couldn’t help but feel a simmering resentment toward him, remembering the night that had led up to the hate that you had grown towards him.

You glanced around, taking in the beauty of the campsite. Tall trees encircled the clearing, their leaves rustling in the soft breeze. The nearby brook added a soothing melody to the scene, and the late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over everything.

Harry approached, handing you a bottle of water. "You looked like you could use this," he said, his tone neutral.

"Thanks," you replied curtly, accepting the bottle but avoiding eye contact. His gesture did little to ease the tension between you.

With the tents set up and the campsite organized, the four of you gathered around the fire pit. Mark expertly built a fire, and soon the flames were crackling as the sun descended behind the trees, providing warmth and a focal point for the group.

"How was America?" Mark asked Harry as he handed him a beer. "Did you enjoy living there?"

"It was nice for a while," Harry replied, taking a sip. "But it got lonely after a bit. I'm actually happy to be back."

"Marketing, right?" April asked, earning a quick nod from Harry.

You listened quietly, not fully trusting his cheerful demeanor. It was hard to forget the history between you.

"Well, we're glad to have you back," Mark said, clinking his beer bottle against Harry’s. "It’s like old times again."

April smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, just with more responsibilities and less reckless behavior."

"Speak for yourself," Mark joked, earning a playful nudge from April.

Harry chuckled, but his eyes kept drifting toward you. You avoided his gaze, focusing on the fire instead.

Mark instantly got up from his spot, his eyes twinkled mischievously as he took off his jacket and shirt.

April raised an eyebrow, “What are you doing?!”

“I’m going for a swim” he said, grinning widely as he took of his pants along with his boxers.

You burst out laughing, shaking your head as you covered your eyes not wanting to look at your best friend’s boyfriend privates.

“A swim? It’s pretty late, Mark.” April said as Mark used his hands to cover himself.

“Why not?” Mark said, standing up and stretching. “We’re out here in the middle of nowhere, no one around for miles. It’ll be fun.” He wanted to cut the tension. He wanted for everyone to have fun and it was a way to get everyone out of the funk especially the both of you. “Oh, it’s fucking cold” He said as he ran towards the lake.

April rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re crazy, you know that?” she yelled after him as she got up from her spot.

“That’s why you love me,” Mark quipped, winking at her.

You bit your lip, considering it. The idea was wild and spontaneous, something you wouldn’t normally do. But maybe that’s what made it appealing.

“Alright,” you said, surprising yourself. “I’m in. But if anyone mentions this to anyone back home, I’m denying everything.” as you started stripping. You couldn’t see Harry, but you could feel Harry’s stare on you.

April laughed. “This should be interesting. Okay, I’m in too.”

Mark clapped his hands together. “Harry?” He yelled as he splashed water. The water was surprisingly warmer than expected.

As soon as your pants came off, you sprinted towards the water, not wanting to give anyone a chance to inspect your body. April followed right behind you, and before you knew it, both of you were submerged in the cool, refreshing water.

The initial shock of the cold water took your breath away, but it quickly turned invigorating. You surfaced, laughing and pushing your wet hair out of your face. April emerged beside you, her laughter echoing across the lake.

"This is crazy!" she shouted, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Harry was right behind, diving into the water with loud splashes. The four of you swam around, the thrill of the spontaneous adventure making everyone giddy.

"Not your worst idea, Mark," you admitted, floating on your back and gazing up at the starry sky. "This is lovely." Mark grinned, splashing water at you.

“Things haven’t changed at much. We still let you convince us into doing shit” said, his tone lighter than it had been all evening.

For a while, you all floated and swam, the cool water refreshing and the company surprisingly pleasant. The tension and animosity seemed to wash away with the gentle waves.

The atmosphere grew quieter as April nestled closer to Mark, the two of them wrapped up in each other's presence, sharing quiet moments and exchanging soft words. The only sounds breaking the silence were the faint music playing in the background and the gentle crackling of the fire.

You glanced over at April and Mark, their closeness evident in the way they leaned into each other, their whispered conversations carrying an intimacy that made you smile despite yourself. It was a rare sight, seeing them so openly affectionate, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy mixed with genuine happiness for them.

Harry saw opposite you, lost in his thoughts as he stared at the sky. The events of the evening seemed to have softened his demeanor, his usual guarded expression replaced by a contemplative look. For once, the animosity between you felt less palpable, overshadowed by the camaraderie of the evening.

The music played softly in the background, a soothing backdrop to the quiet moments shared among friends. The night air was cool against your skin, but the warmth of the water and the company kept you comfortable.

"It's good to see you again, pup," Harry spoke up suddenly, his voice breaking the peaceful silence. The old nickname tugged at your emotions. He had called you that since college, back when you both shared dreams and aspirations.

You looked at him, caught off guard by his unexpected warmth. "Yeah," you replied softly.

"I heard you landed your dream job," he continued, glancing at you with a hint of a smile. You nodded, trying to conceal your own smile. "A reporter for BBC News. I remember how you used to talk about it non-stop. Proud of you."

“Thanks. How is your mom and Gemma?" you asked, recalling that final year of uni when Harry had invited you to his family home. It had been Easter weekend, a time when you got to meet the two women who made Harry’s world turn.

Harry's face softened at the mention of his family. "They're doing well," he replied, a hint of fondness in his voice. "Mom's as busy as ever, and Gemma is a mum now”

"Wait, what?!" You were taken aback, genuinely surprised by the news. It was unexpected, and you hadn't seen it coming.

Harry chuckled softly at your surprised reaction, his eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and pride. "Yeah, she had a baby girl a few months ago," he explained, his voice tinged with happiness. "It's been quite the adjustment, but she's doing great."

You couldn't help but smile at the thought of Gemma as a mother. "That's amazing," you replied genuinely. "Congratulations to her."

As you processed this new information, you felt a twinge of nostalgia for the times you had spent with Harry and his family. It seemed like another lifetime ago, yet the memories were still vivid in your mind. Despite the distance that had grown between you, moments like these reminded you of the bonds that once connected you.

"Listen, Y/N..." Harry began, but he was swiftly cut off by Mark and April.

"We're heading out. We are starving!" Mark called out, trailing after April as they exited.

Harry paused, his words hanging in the air as Mark and April hurriedly headed towards the campsite. You exchanged a glance with Harry, both of you momentarily sidelined by the interruption.

“I’ll see you out there” You said, trying to sound casual despite the awkwardness of the moment. Deep down, you wondered what Harry had wanted to say—whether it was something about the past or the tentative future you both seemed to be tiptoeing around. However, you didn’t want to stay behind. You weren’t skeptical about giving him a chance to explain himself.

Carefully, you swam back to shore and climbed out of the water. Attempting to regain your composure and stride confidently back to camp, you couldn't help but feel you'd failed miserably, especially with the chilly air gnawing at you.

Everyone changed into comfortable clothes while Mark prepared hot dogs for dinner.

"Did you bring your sleeping bag?" April asked, emerging from her tent.

"Yeah, I think so. It was in the hall by the door," you replied, brushing your hair. As you watched April search for it, a feeling of panic began to creep in. You mentally retraced your steps, recalling the things you had taken out of the trunk.

"No way," you muttered under your breath, frantically rummaging through your belongings. "I thought we grabbed everything!"

"What’s wrong? What are you looking for?" Harry asked, wanting to help.

"I think I left my sleeping bag at home," you sighed, realizing it was going to be a tough night. You had brought your tent, but sleeping on the bare ground wasn’t part of the plan.

Harry frowned, considering the situation. "we'll figure something out," he said, his voice reassuring.

Mark, overhearing the conversation, turned from the campfire where he was tending to the hot dogs. "I brought an extra blanket. It's not a sleeping bag, but it should help.”

"Thanks, Mark," you said, grateful for the gesture. Still, the thought of an uncomfortable night's sleep loomed over you.

April emerged triumphantly with a blanket. "Here, hopefully this makes it more comfortable," she said.

You took the blanket from her, managing a small smile. This trip was definitely not going as you had expected—it seemed like one thing after another.

"Hot dogs are ready!" Mark announced cheerfully as he handed everyone their plate and they gathered around the fire.

“Remember the last time we went camping?” April asked as she swallowed a bite of her hot dog.

“Wasn’t that the time that Mark though there was a bear attacking us?” Harry smirked, taking a bite of his hot dog. “What animal was it?”

“It was a racoon” You joined in, the memory making you chuckle.

“In my defense it was SO loud! It made a lot of noise” Mark laughed, shaking his head. “It was bloody big”.

"Was that before or after you tried to scare it away by singing 'Eye of the Tiger' at the top of your lungs?” April busted out laughing.

“He was so off-key. I am surprised the racoon put up a fight”

“I was just trying to protect us!” Mark threw up his hands in mock indignation.

Everyone busted into laughter again, the tension had melted away in the shared amusement. For a moment, it felt like old times, with jokes and stories like in college.

Later, as you settled into your tent with the borrowed blanket, you couldn’t help but think about all the conversations that you had with your friends. Harry's earlier attempt to talk still lingered in your mind, and you knew that the conversation was far from over.

Just as you were about to drift off, you heard a soft knock on the tent flap. "Hey, you still awake?" It was Harry’s voice.

You sat up, your heart beating a little faster. "Yeah, what’s going on?"

Harry unzipped the tent entrance and peeked in, holding a sleeping bag. "I thought you might need this."

"You brought an extra one?" you asked, suspicion creeping into your voice.

"Yeah," he replied, but his eyes betrayed him. You knew Harry too well to be fooled.

"You're lying," you said, stopping him just as he turned to leave. "You can’t fool me. I know you, Harry Styles. I know this is your sleeping bag."

He paused, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "So, what if it is?"

"That I’m not taking your sleeping bag from you," you insisted, handing it back to him. "Thank you, though."

He hesitated, the flickering firelight casting shadows across his face. "Let's share it then," he suggested softly.

You blinked, taken aback by his offer. You were nervous. The though of you sharing such a tight space and being in such proximity made your heart beat faster and the palms of your hands sweaty.

“Are you sure?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he said firmly, stepping into the tent. “It’s cold, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable”.

With a nod, you scooted over to make room. Harry stretched out the sleeping back and unzipped it for both of you. As you both settled into the sleeping bag, the proximity was comforting, but unsettling at the same time. The warmth of his body next to yours was a stark contrast to the chilly night air. You both shared a pillow and the blanket that April had giving you.

His scent enveloped you — a mix of pine, musk and a hint of the campfire smoke. His warmth radiated through the thin layers of the fabric, soothing the chill of the night air. The gently rise and fall of his chest against your back created a rhythmic presence. His arm draped lightly over your side and the sensation of his body pressed against yours brought an unexpected sense of nostalgia.

“Are you confortable?” He whispered as if sharing. secret, as if what you were doing was somehow forbidden.

You nodded slight, feeling the wright of his questions. “I am” you whispered back, the darkness amplifying the intimacy of the moment.

The silence that followed was filled with the soft sounds of the forest and the distant crackle of the campfire outside.

“Thank you” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“No problem” he replied softly, his words brushing against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the moment. There was still something in the air. Something unspoken.

“Remember that night?” Harry whispered after a while, his voice a gently murmur in the quiet night. Referring to the night of passion that they had shared back in uni. The night that had stayed with you ever since.

“Every second of it” you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and hurt. Memories flooding back, vivid and bittersweet. You could still recall the feel of his lips, the way his touch had ignited a fire within you. “Why did you never call or text back?”

Harry sighed softly, his warm breath against your neck. “I was a coward,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret. “I was scared of what I felt for you, of how much you meant to me. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I ran”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. You turn slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his for the truth. In the dim light of the tent, you could see raw vulnerability that he rarely showed.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you” You admitted, “I resented you for it” Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of relief and sorrow.

“I am wrong. I was so wrong. I missed you” he confessed. Harry reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek.

The air between you grew thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. You could feel yourself drawing closer, every inch of space between you crackling with tension. The warmth of his body, the gently rise and fall of his chest and the soft brush of his breath against your skin all conspired to lure you to him.

He hesitated, his eyes flicking down to your lips, and you felt like your breath hitch, the moment stretching into an eternity. The desire to close the gap, to feel the familiar yet thrilling sensation of his kiss, was overwhelming and every fiber of you yearned for that kiss that would final bridge all those years of resentment.

Harry’s gaze was intense, his eyes searching yours as if trying to decipher your every thought. His hand trembled slightly as he reached out, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

With a deep breath, Harry leaned in slowly, closing the miniscule gap between you. His lips brushed against yours with a feather light touch, tentative yet filled with longing. His lips were warm and soft, fitting against yours as if they had always belonged there.

A soft sigh escaped Harry’s lips, a mixture of relief. His hand moved from your cheek to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, each movement a silent confession of years of yearning and regret.

Lost in the moment, you ran your fingers through his hair, savoring the texture and the closeness it brough. His touch sent sparks through your body, awakening every nerve ending with a delicious ache between your legs that only he could take care of.

“Let me have you” His breath mingling with yours as he whispered, “I want you so bad” His hand took yours, guiding it to him, making you feel the intensity of his longing and the very evident erection that he had grown for her. His words hung in the air, heavy with desire.

You nodded slowly, your breath hitching in your throat. "Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. "I want you too.” You didn’t think much about it. Your mind was too clouded.

Harry closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss both tender and urgent. He used the kiss to roll you to your side with your back towards him. Harry pulled off the sweater off your body and pull the straps of your bralette off your shoulders, exposing more skin for his lips to capture.

Harry hands came down to your pants as his lips trailed down to your neck, each kiss a lingering, deliberate caress that sent shivers down your spine. As his mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear, he paused, letting his lips brush lightly over your pulse point before his right hand found its way into your underwear.

“Try to stay quiet, yeah?” As his fingers started playing with you, touching your most intimate spots. His knee came between your legs, spreading them more and allowing him to explore more of you.

Harry left arm went under her head, for you to rest your head against his bicep while he had his way with you. You bit your lips, arching your hips towards his hand just as his fingers entered you. A rush of pleasure coursed through you, mingling with a cascade of nerves that made your heart race.

“God. You are so wet, pup” He groaned as he tried his best to contain himself. Harry left hand came down to cover your mouth as your moans got louder. “You are doing so good, baby”, he mumbled, his arms tightening around you.

“For the love of fuck” you gasped as you came undone on his fingers. It was hot, you were both still nuzzled in the sleeping bag. Just as you unzipped the sleeping bag and sat up, you caught Harry sucking the same two fingers that had been in you a second ago.

“Come here” Harry commanded as he slipped off his joggers and boxers. It was a sight that she hoped to never forget. The muscles of his abdomen flexed proof that he spent his diligent time at the gym. His erection stood tall and proudly inviting you to ride him.

You slipped off your pants and underwear. Harry hands gripped your waist tightly and guided you down on to him. The pleasure was instant as he stretched you out. Harry’s fingers gripped you tightly, holding you still for a second as you both adjusted to the sensation.

His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as his head was thrown back.

“Show me how much you missed me” You said to him which only ignited the fire within him. His hands guided your hips, as you both tried to find the perfect rhythm to drive you off the edge.

“Look at you. So fuckin’ perfect just f’me” Your words only ignited the fire within him, a spark that quickly grew into an all-consuming blaze.

His hands firmly guided your hips, every movement deliberate and driven by an intense desire to bring you both to the peak of ecstasy. The sensation of his strong hands on your skin, the way he moved with you, sent waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You both sought the perfect rhythm, each thrust and shift in sync, the friction and pressure building with every passing second.

“Oh, baby… you are so tight” he moaned, Harry’s grip tightened on your waist, his fingernails digging into your skin. Your thrust and grinding became sloppier and soon enough both of you were moaning. You clenched around him as Harry lifted his hips from the ground as you both came undone.

You laid down on his chest with him still in you. It was comforting, having him in you. Harry’s hands came up and brushed your sweaty hair back.

“You aren’t going to disappear now, are you?” You asked as he drew patterns on your sweaty back.

“I am not going anywhere”.

[lilacs-stars]

aiming for your heart

this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is glinda the good witch's daughter) SUMMARY: you agree to a tutoring session with your pirate classmate, but things end up taking an...unexpected twist. GENRE: pure fluff, a bit of banter CW: nothing much, just mentions of societal pressures WC: 7.9k (they just keep getting longer...)

A/N: I decided to finally do something cute and fluffy after days of working on dark angsty stuff and this felt like a much-needed breath of fresh air. it was so fun to write, so thanks to the anon who requested this for the fun idea! <3 please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd love to know your thoughts!

Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, cir—

“Ahh, oww!” you cry out as a very solid metal object collides with the side of your skull. Your hand instinctively goes up to the spot on your head—which you can already feel starting to swell—as you wince in pain. 

You’re supposed to throw the ring in the basket, not at my head, idiot, you think to yourself as you grimace. 

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you, I swear!” you glance around the room, locking eyes with your classmate just a few tables away, whose wand is still poised in their hand and a bewildered expression planted on their face. “I just can’t seem to control…this gosh darn wand…”

You let out a little sigh, trying your best to not be impatient. After all, you couldn’t expect everyone to be as experienced in this field as you are. 

You glance back at the student, who’s rereading their textbook pages for what’s probably the tenth time. As you watch them struggle, a pang of guilt hits you for being so mean and irritable. It’s not like they were trying to hit you, and even though it was just a thought passing through in the privacy of your mind, you still feel as though thinking something mean like that is wrong. 

You push your chair back and rise from your seat, wand tightly gripped in one hand. Walking over to your classmate’s desk, you give a small smile as you ask them, “Need any help?”

They look up at you with wide eyes. “Oh, yes, please! Enchantment of Magical Objects is literally the hardest class ever!”

You grin again, keeping your demeanor light and friendly, like always. “Okay, so first, you go up, then swish, then circle your wand back around, and finally flick, and then…”

You copy the movements with your own wand as you speak, small magical sparks flickering off it at your gestures. After you complete your little demonstration, you both watch as a hand-sized sleek metal ring, somewhat resembling a circular horseshoe, levitates off the desk and neatly lands in a bucket in the center of the room. 

Today’s assignment in your Enchantment class is to use the Aiming Spell to throw the rings into a bucket. Safe to say, it wasn’t really going well for most of the class. 

“Wow, that was amazing! You’re so good at this Y/N!” your now starry-eyed classmate exclaims. “And I can barely get my rings off my desk…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there,” you smile reassuringly. “After all, I’ve had a lot of experience around wands and enchantments.”

“Yeah, I suppose that is right. I guess not everyone can be as talented with magic as the Good Witch’s very own daughter.”

A small laugh escapes your lips, and you bid farewell to your classmate as you make your way back to your seat. They aren’t wrong, after all. Your mother, Glinda, taught you how to use a wand as soon as you could walk. You’ve been watching her use magic for ages, so it’s not a surprise to anyone that you’re top of your class. 

You sit back down, getting back to work. Even though you know you’ve already mastered the spell, you still have some class time left, which you decide to use wisely and continue practicing the spell. 

Staring at the pile of metal rings in front of you, you take a deep breath and begin the task of making each one levitate off your desk and make a perfect arch towards the basket. 

Up, swish, circle, flick. Up—swoosh!

A flying ring shoots straight past your face, barely missing you by only a few inches. You stumble backwards in your chair, quite startled. Still, it isn’t unusual to see objects flying around the classroom, or rather, objects flying where they’re not supposed to.

A moment later, another one whizzes past you again. Then a third, which gets so close to your face that you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Annoyed, your head snaps to your right, trying to figure out who keeps nearly decapitating you. 

You glance around, finally locking eyes with what seems to be the culprit. Chair leaning against the wall, tipped back on its hind two legs, sits a figure with deep brown eyes and smokey eyeshadow look to match. A smirk is planted on his face, a mischievous glint in his gaze. He wears a dark red jacket on top of a black dress shirt, the collar disheveled and his tie loose around his neck. Contrary to his tousled outfit, his medium-length brown hair is neatly slicked back. One of his hands leisurely holds a wand while the other rests behind his head, and combined with the way he has a leg crossed over the other, one would think he’s enjoying a nice day at the beach instead of sitting in class at one of the most prestigious academies in the land.

You fix him with a look, your gaze subconsciously morphing into a glare as he jerks the wand up, causing one of the metal rings in front of him to levitate a few inches off his desk. With a flick of the wrist, he sends it flying across the room once again. Having learned your lesson, this time you duck down, eyes following the disk as it soars across the room. You watch as it shoots straight towards its target, who expertly crouches as the metal ring hits the wall behind him with a thud, falling to the ground and joining the previous disks.

The target of these attacks is a boy you recognize to be a good friend of the ring-throwing troublemaker, with light brown hair brushed away from his forehead and dressed in a dark green shirt with a black choker around his neck. Morgie le Fay shoots a glare across the room to his perpetrator, making a face that could only mean “You’ll pay for this later.”

Another disk comes shooting at his head, and he ducks down yet again. This time, the metal hits the wall so hard, you worry it left a dent. Unable to take their child-like behavior any longer, you get up from your seat for the second time and stomp your way over to the disk-thrower.

“Hook!” you say as you reach his table. The man in question tilts his head towards you, looking up with an amused grin.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, lassie?” he replies, his accent crisp and unmistakable. 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, knowing it would be terribly rude, even if he was getting on your nerves like no other. You settle for fixing him with another look. “Could you please stop hurling those disks around? It’s not the assignment, and you practically hit me!”

“My apologies, love,” Hook replies, still peering up at you, unbothered. You honestly doubt he means it, so you frown and try again. “I’m being serious, Hook.”

“As am I,” he replies, making you want to smack that stupid smirk off his face. Deep breaths, deep breaths, you remind yourself. Violence is never the answer. You find it funny how you can almost hear your mother’s voice as you repeat those words in your head, the ones she always tells you.

“So you’ll stop?” you ask, raising a brow and putting your hands on your hips to show him you’re not messing around.

“Ah, well, you see,” Hook starts, and it takes every ounce of benevolence in you to not internally combust at whatever excuse he’s planning to come up with. “I’m having a tad bit of trouble with this spell, love. No matter what I do, I simply can’t seem to lock on to the right target.”

At this, you raise your eyebrows again, disbelief laced through your every cell. “Why don’t you give it a go,” you say, jerking your chin towards the basket in the middle of the room. “You never know until you don’t try.”

Hook leans forward in his chair, righting it again so it stands on all four legs. He raises his wand, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s actually concentrating on the task at hand. One of the metal disks rises into the air, levitating a meter above the floor.

Hook flicks his wand forward and the disk sails away, missing the basket in an almost laughable attempt at execution. Instead of the proper target, it lands on the edge of a file cabinet in the far corner of the room. You pray for the poor soul that will inevitably open one of its drawers, only to be smacked in the head by a piece of solid steel.

Eyebrows raised, Hook unabashedly turns back around to face you with that grin of his. “So how was that, love? Satisfied?”

“Not quite,” you huff, shaking your head at him. “Honestly, I haven’t seen anyone make such a…uh, interesting attempt at this assignment.” Deep down, a little part of you really wants to say much meaner things, but you bite back your words, knowing that showing contempt never did anyone any good.

“Interesting, eh?” Hook’s smirk grows, and you can see him already scheming inside that villainous little mind of his. “Say, Y/N”—he uncrosses his legs, leaning in your direction—“you’re the top student of this class, are you not?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but refrain from saying anything you know you’ll later regret. “Yes, and?”

“Well, as you can clearly see here, I require a bit of assistance with this assignment. After all, not everyone grew up waving wands like you,” he quips, flourishing the wand in his hand as if it were an ordinary stick. Abruptly, he stills his movements and drops the wand on his desk, before turning to face you directly, locking eyes. “Would you be so kind as to teach me a few things?”

You quirk your brows, albeit attempting to keep a straight face. “Are you asking me to…tutor you?”

Hook grins yet again. “This evening, 7 o’clock, the common area in the East Wing.” He puts his hand on his knees as he gets up, now leering a few inches above you. Still holding your gaze—although he has to tilt his head down to do so—he asks, “I’ll see you then?”

You blink twice, mind replaying the events that led to you getting yourself stuck in this situation. On the one hand, you definitely don't want to have a one-on-one study session with a villain—and an annoyingly smug one at that. Honestly, the few interactions you are forced to have with him in class are far enough for you. 

But on the other hand, he is asking for help to improve his grades…after all, it’s not every day someone the likes of him shows interest in learning. Plus, you know that it’s not right to turn away a person in need of your help, no matter how insufferable they are. Especially if they’re always flashing you a smile filled with shining white teeth and full, plump pink lips.

A sigh escapes your mouth before you can stop it as you resign yourself to your fate. “Alright, I guess. But come prepared to learn. That means you need your wand, your textbooks, notebo—”

He cuts you off with a passive sweep of his hook, much to your annoyance. Leaning in just a little closer to you, enough to make your palms slightly sweaty, his face tilts down even nearer to yours. “It’s a date, then,” Hook says, his voice soft but still with that teasing tone it always seems to carry.

“It’s not a date!” you call out as the bell rings, but he’s already making his way out of the classroom, sauntering off to do who-knows-what.

Heavens, what have I gotten myself into, you think, placing a hand on your forehead as you breathe out a long, heavy sigh.

The evening rolls around far too quickly for your liking, and before you know it you’re making your way out of your doom room and up a set of stairs.

You keep on thinking about how you had ample time to back out of this arrangement; plus, you would be lying if you said you didn't consider it a number of times. But each time, you remind yourself that you are doing a good deed for someone obviously in need of a good influence. That you have to be selfless and put aside your personal feelings to serve a good cause, as all heroes do. That your opinions don't really matter—after all, the best heroes are the ones who make the deepest sacrifices, right?

So that’s how you find yourself dragging heavy feet across a corridor, a tiny voice in your head begging you to turn around, as you finally reach the common area set as your meetup spot. You glance at your wristwatch, which reads 6:55. You had decided to leave a bit early so you could arrive with a few minutes to spare. As your mother always reminds you, “It’s better to be an hour early than a minute late.”

Pulling out a chair at a nearby two-person table, you sit down, plopping your bookbag next to you. You had stuffed it full of your personal notes, your wand, and several textbooks you thought could help Hook. 

Tapping a pencil on the wooden desk, you sigh, glancing at your clock again. 6:57. Thinking back on your previous decision, you wonder why you left so early. After all, you have Hook down in your mind as the type to be extremely unpunctual. Leaning back in your chair out of sheer boredom, you start to clearly picture Hook showing up a good hour late. Heck, you’d be surprised if he even shows up at all. 

The clock hits 6:59, and you begin to debate how long you’re willing to stay here before giving up and returning to your dorm. Would ten minutes be enough? Fifteen? Thirty? The more you think about it, the more you can imagine this being some sort of elaborate prank to trick you. After all, why would a delinquent villain like Hook ever be interested in planning a tutoring session?

You sigh once again, angry at yourself for being so naive as to fall for his little trick. Drumming your fingers on the table as you put your head down, you mentally punch yourself for your gullibility. 

Which is why you nearly jump out of your own skin at the sound of a loud thud sound from in front of you. You jerk back into your chair, arms flailing as it tips, causing you to nearly topple backwards. With your reflexes kicking in, your hand latches onto the edge of the table—thankfully—and you manage to pull yourself back to a more stable position.

Hand clutching your pounding heart, you roll your head back to be greeted with that stupid little smirk that haunts your thoughts. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright, love. After all, we were planning to meet up, were we not?” Hook says, tone extremely smug and a tiny bit pitiful at your frightened state. 

You raise your arm and flick your wrist, reading the time displayed on your clock. 7:00. He…he showed up exactly on time, you think, praying that your shock isn’t displayed on your face.

As if he can read your mind—and in all honesty, maybe he can—Hook says, “You didn’t doubt me, now, did you, darling? How could I skimp out on our little date?”

“It’s not a date,” you tell him once again, not even trying to hide the annoyance in your voice this time.

“Whatever you say.” Hook gives a little grin as he raises his eyebrows for a second. Before you can continue to argue, he pulls out the chair across from you and sits down. You eye a small black leather satchel that dangles from his hook as he drops it down on the floor. Huh, he even came prepared.

He leans in, arms resting on the table, as he fixes you with a sly grin. “So, Miss Teacher, what are you going to teach me today?”

You hate to pass on the opportunity to make a snarky remark, but you know that rubbing Hook the wrong way is not going to make these next few hours any less sufferable. Instead, you simply go for a “How about you start by getting out your materials?”

“As you wish, m’lady.” An irritated sigh escapes your lips, and you realize you’ve been sighing a lot more than usual ever since you got in this…predicament. You watch, somewhat impatiently, as Hook reaches down and draws a single notebook and his practice wand out of the leather satchel. Glancing at his materials, then back at yours, you realize that you came a lot more prepared than he did, even though you’re not the one trying to learn here. Well, I guess him putting in some effort still better than nothing.

You pull out one of the thick textbooks from your bag, the used animal skin cover peeling at the edges and the pages yellowed from the wear of time. 

“First, we’re going to get started with the theory of enchantments and spells.” You flip through the pages until you land on the first of many detailing the basics of spellcasting. “Even though we’re going to be focusing on the Aiming Spell, the underlying principles are pretty much the same for all spells you use. Now, you see here, highlighted in the chart are the five main…”

You chance a glance over at Hook, voice trailing off when you realize he isn’t listening. In fact, he's not even looking at the textbook placed in the middle of the desk. Instead, his gaze is fixed on…

…you?

“Hey! Why are you staring at me like that, you weirdo!” you exclaim, pulling back from the table. Hook remains unflinching, his chin in his good hand as he stares up at you with a sparkle in his eye. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, love. You’re just so…so entrancing.”

You blink hard, recoiling at his words. He’s not flirting with you…is he? No, there’s no way. Don’t be overly arrogant, you convince yourself. This is just his personality, how he usually acts. The same way he calls everyone “love” and “darling.” There’s absolutely nothing more to it than him saying anything he can think of to fluster you and throw you off track.

…Right?

You ignore the stupid little flutter your heart does at not just being called pretty, or beautiful, or any of the normal compliments. No, you aren’t normal, you’re entrancing…

Snap out of it! you internally scold yourself. This is just another one of his little antics. You’re just letting him win by getting in your head. 

“Look, I didn’t come here and set aside this chunk of my valuable time to tutor you, only for you to not listen. If you came here to mess around—” you rant, but you’re cut off before you can get everything off your chest.

“I apologize, lassie. I promise, I’ll focus from here on out,” Hook vows. You eye him with a glare, feeling very distrustful, but you’re only met with his rather sincere gaze.

You let out another breath, once again regretting agreeing to this. “Fine. Get out your notebook. You’re going to want to take notes on this.”

Hook nods and reaches into his satchel, which is still lying on the floor. “If I’m being completely honest—which I assume you must hold in high regard, being a hero and whatnot—I really didn’t expect you to be so…irritable.”

You shoot Hook another glare, before realizing that you’re just proving his point. You give a brief roll of your eyes as you attempt a smile. “I’m not usually like this,” you say, fighting to keep a decently pleasant expression on your face. “You just really find a way to, how should I put this, you really—”

“Push your buttons?” Hook finishes for you, raising his eyebrows.

“I was going to say you really find a way to get on my nerves, but that too,” you respond, with obviously forced cheerfulness. “Whatever, we need to get back to studying. For real this time.”

Hook replies with an “Of course, m’lady,” before you begin your lecture again on the foundation of enchantments. This time, he makes sure to periodically glance down at the textbook pages and occasionally nod or ask a question, all to ensure that you don’t catch him staring at you again. Unbeknownst to you, adoration shines bright in his eyes as he studies your features, committing them to memory every time you’re not looking his way.

You spend some time going over theory with Hook, until you can feel him growing restless, causing you to start wondering if people like him have a capacity for how much information they can absorb at one time. Deciding that theory is no good if it’s not put to practice, you slam the textbook shut once you reach the end of a page, standing up.

Hook looks up at you, a slightly startled expression on his face. “Come on,” you say. “Now we’re going to see how much you paid attention by putting your lesson to good use.”

You hope to see a look of fear flash across his face, but his demeanor stays completely even. Feeling a bit let down, you remind yourself that he still has to actually cast the spell. Watch him mess it up, you think. Let’s see how smug he is then, huh?

Reaching down into your bookbag, you pull out a small bundle wrapped in a piece of cloth. You open it to reveal a handful of metal disks, similar to the ones you had used earlier in class. You empty them out on the table before walking over to the middle of the room and placing the cloth down on the floor, a good number of meters away from your table. “This is your target area,” you explain. “Stand by the table and get those rings to land within the borders of the cloth.”

Let’s see how well you fare now, pretty boy.

“Aye, that’s not fair,” Hook says, scrunching his brow as he gestures towards your setup with his hook. “That cloth’s much smaller than the basket we used in class. And the distance is far greater.”

“Well, if you learn how to get the spell right with tougher constraints than the requirement, you’ll be sure to do great for the real thing.” You flash him a wink as you watch his jaw part slightly, an incredulous expression painted on his face. “That’s how I always ace my exams.”

Hook draws in a breath, putting his ever-famous smirk back on his face, although you can feel his unease this time. He picks up his wand, turning around to point it at disks on the table. 

Up. He rolls his hand upwards, and one of the disks starts to levitate a foot in the air.

Swish. Hook jerks his wrist to the side, causing the disk to start gently vibrating with potential energy. 

Circle. He rotates his hand counterclockwise, drawing a circle with the tip of the wand.

Flick. You watch with bated breath as Hook flicks the wand towards the cloth in the middle of the room. 

Both of you follow the disc’s arc through the air with tense anticipation, as it soars, soars…

…and ends up missing the cloth by a good three feet.

Hook gives a small, halfhearted laugh, trying to keep up the suave facade. Yet you notice the way his shoulders slump forward, the way his body stiffens in an embarrassing shock. 

Part of you feels a wickedly twisted satisfaction at his failure—but as soon as you recognize it for what it is, you shove it away, repulsed at the thought of you even coming close experiencing such an emotion. Plus, the majority of you feels rather disappointed at the undesirable outcome. Whether it’s Hook’s chagrin rubbing off on you, or the voice in your head whispering that you, as his teacher, failed at your job, you can’t help but feel a bit let down at his messing up.

“Hey, it’s fine. Let’s try again,” you say softly, your usual eager-to-help manner coming back at the sight of someone needing comforting.

And so, Hook tries again. And again. And again.

Finally, after the seventh or eighth try, he puts the wand back down on the table. “I don’t know what to tell you, love. No matter how hard I try, it’s simply not working.” You sigh, looking at the floor before you, which was now littered with disks. “Hey, at least you got closer each time! That’s still progress.” You attempt to raise his spirits a bit, but he just fixes you with a look that tells you he’s not one to fall for your false positivity.

“Uhm…” You hesitate, not quite sure what to do next or how to fix this. “How about you see how I do it, and try to copy that?”

Hook gives a small nod and you fish out your wand, pulling up your sleeves and taking a deep breath to prepare. Focusing on one of the disks on the table, you start the particular movements. Up. Swish. Circle. Flick!

Both of you watch in somewhat astonishment as the ring curves perfectly through the air, flying with grace, as it lands directly in the center of the cloth.

Hook looks at you with raised eyebrows. Although that little part of you wants to rub it in his face, the fact that a hero, out of all people, bested him, you decide that torturing him with your teasing is only going to make him less likely to get the spell right.

“You see that? Now, try to copy it yourself,” you instruct.

And so, Hook makes a few more attempts, landing closer to the cloth each time, now only a couple inches away—yet never actually making contact with it.

You study his movements carefully as he casts the spell, trying to figure out what he’s doing wrong. After a few more of his failed attempts, you decide to try a different approach.

“Okay, watch me do it again, but this time come hold my wand from behind so you can get a feel for how I cast it,” you say, glancing up at Hook. “After all, it’s all in the wrist.” You recite a line your mother always says, one that often replays in your mind as you cast a spell. In your opinion, her guidance is the main reason that you’re so good at spells.

You’re still sitting down in your chair, pushing it in a little to provide room for him to come up behind you and reach your wand. 

You were expecting Hook to get rather close; after all, there aren’t many ways for two people to hold the same wand in the position you were in without a tight proximity. What you weren’t expecting was the way he comes up from behind you leisurely, deliberately. The way his chest presses into your back as he leans in, arm brushing against yours as he extends it towards the wand. The way you can feel his exhales on your skin, breathing down your neck—literally—causes goosebumps to rise up and down your arms. The way his natural aroma engulfs you completely, overwhelming your senses all at once. How his large hand feels on yours as he places it on top, curling his fingers around the wand—and yours, as well. The way you can feel the smirk dancing on his face, looking down at you with what you expect to be half-lidded eyes. 

And the way your heart races, good heavens. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought you just ran a marathon. Your body simultaneously heats up and freezes at his touches, no matter how small, your mind becoming overly aware of every point of contact you have with him. You fight against the overstimulation flooding your senses, resisting the urge to wipe your sweaty palms on your legs, while hoping that the wand doesn’t slip out of your hand as perform the incantation. 

Truth be told, although you definitely won’t admit this to anyone: you really haven’t had much experience with romance, or anything of the sorts. All your life, you’ve focused on doing good deeds and keeping up with your studies, aiming to be the best of the best in the hero world. Which is probably why no boy has ever taken interest in you; instead of going to dances or out on dates, you've always spent your Friday nights locked away in your room, studying hard to make sure you ace your exams. Plus, with your goody-two-shoes streak, you aren't exactly the most sought-out person in your class.

Which is why with the way Hook flirts with you, and now, the way you can feel his inhales and exhales against your skin—subconsciously trying to match the rhythm of his breathing—your brain is short-circuiting. The lack of romantic attention you’ve received your whole life is behind why you don't know how to react to Hook's antics, while still internally freaking out at his movements and words.

You inhale a shaky breath, trying to steady your quivering hand and hope that Hook doesn’t notice your reaction. But after the amused little hum he gives, your embarrassment grows by the second. Trying your best to focus on the task at hand, you say, “Okay, here goes.”

Up. You feel Hook’s grip tighten around your hand, just a little bit but still enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Swish. The disk vibrates with extreme intensity, to the point where you’re afraid it’ll break apart, despite the metal structure.

Circle. As you circle your wrist around, you feel Hook’s arm rub against yours even more, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Gods, the things this man is doing to you.

Flick. You flick the wand towards the cloth yet again, jerking your head sideways to follow it as it flies across the room. Agonizing in how it ignites every nerve in your body, you feel Hook’s head brush against the top of yours as he follows your movements, watching the disk soar.

It seems, for a minute, as if it’s going to land right on top of the previous one. But to both your shocks, it falls just outside the borders of the cloth, barely touching the edge.

Your face absolutely burns in embarrassment, palms dripping with sweat now. Hook tilts his head towards yours—which you feel all too well—as he says, far closer to your ear than you would’ve liked, “Well, it seems like even the master makes mistakes, love.”

Fuming, you finally give into the urge and drop the wand to wipe your hands on your clothes. Screw him, you mentally curse. It’s all his fault. I’ve never messed up this spell before.

And as much as you want to blame him, you know that it’ll do you absolutely no good to tell him the fact that he was so close to you made your brain short-circuit to such an extent that you messed up a spell you could do since you were five.

You shake your head, refusing to accept your failure. “No, I…I don’t know what happened. It must have been a faulty disk. Just…I’m going to try again.”

Hook raises his eyebrows at you—or at least, you’re pretty sure he does, as you can’t see him from behind. You grab your wand again, and without even telling him to do so, Hook leans in and places his hand back over yours, your fingers trapped between his and the wand.

Internally, you find yourself growing impossibly more annoyed at him. Honestly, did he really have to go back to that position, the one that made you mess up the spell in the first place? You take a deep, steadying breath, forcing away all thoughts of Hook and how his dark brown eyes, beautiful and rich like the bark of the trees back in Oz, are boring into your skull right now. You simply can’t afford to get distracted again. Messing up the spell once is one thing—sure, everyone makes mistakes, don’t they? But twice? It would be absolutely inexcusable.

Twice would mean that you are not as adept as you thought you were, not talented enough in the one thing that you've been sure of for your whole life.

Remember the words.

Up, swish, circle, flick!

Fueled by your self-directed rage, you ensure that every movement you make is precise, sharp, and without a single tremor going through your hand. This time, the disk slices through the air with a clean, aerodynamic curve, and lands…

…right on top of your first one.

You beam, regaining your former confidence in your spellcasting abilities.

“The master may sometimes make mistakes, but they’re still the master,” you gloat. “Now come on, you need to practice till you get as good as that.”

You and Hook spend quite some time on practicing the spell, with you giving him pointers and him—surprisingly—improving. It seems as though your hands-on demonstration really helped him, as his skills greatly improved. 

Soon, in every set of ten rings he practiced on, he was consistently getting six or seven of them within the boundaries of the cloth, with one or two more landing on the edge, half-in. 

After one round where he managed to get nine of the disks touching the cloth—his personal best so far—you decide he needs something even more challenging.

“Woah, that was a really good round,” you praise. Hook turns to face you, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that his normal smirk seems a little less snarky and a little more…genuine. 

“Still not as good as you, though, love,” Hook replies. You can tell he’s trying hard to maintain his nonchalant front, especially when it comes to academics, but the pride in his eyes and the earnest grip on his wand tell a different story. Honestly, you like him better this way. Less of him pretending to be a bad boy villain, and more of his real personality.

And in this moment, as you subtly study his features and think about his change in behavior over the past few hours, a thought that’s never even come close to crossing your mind suddenly pops up. What if villains, just like heroes, feel pressured to uphold a certain facade? The same way that you’ve always felt like you just have to be good, no matter the cost, no matter how hard it is for you, maybe villains feel the same way. Maybe they believe they always have to be bad, troublesome, and cruel. Even if that’s not who they truly are.

And through the lens of your new insight, you start seeing Hook in a different light. Just like how you feel as if being good and helpful and cheery all the time is a burden, how sometimes you wish you could just let loose and be selfish, maybe villains feel like being evil is a burden. Maybe Hook feels compelled to act smug and suave, even though that isn’t who he truly feels like being all the time. 

You begin to feel a deep sense of guilt for judging him based on his demeanor and criticizing his performance in class. Reflecting back, you realize that you had been unnecessarily harsh on him for something that is likely beyond his control. Gosh, I'm such an idiot, you think, shame burning your cheeks.

Shaking off your remorse, you put on another bright smile and try to respond as cheerfully as possible. “Hey, it’s still a huge improvement from sending the rings flying on top of a filing cabinet in the corner of the room. Or at innocent bystanders’ heads!” This time, you don’t encourage him because you feel pressured to do so, or because that’s who you know you’re supposed to be. You do it because deep down, in your heart, it’s what you feel like saying.

“Hmm, true,” Hook replies, angling his head to the side as he considers your point, the smallest of smiles still dancing on his lips.

“Now, for your final test.” At your statement, Hook raises a brow. “You need something different, something truly challenging. Something to prove your mastery of the Aiming Spell…”

You rack your brain for ideas, but nothing comes to mind. After a moment in silence, Hook speaks up. “I may have an idea.”

Glancing over at him, rather surprised—you were the teacher, after all—you gesture for him to go on. 

“Go stand over there by that wall,” he instructs, motioning with his hook to the wall opposite you two. “And put your hands up.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, fixing him with a look of wariness and doubt. You don’t move for a second, still too distrusting of him as you try to imagine what standing in that position has to do with casting a spell. Noticing your hesitation, Hook nods towards the wall again. “Well, go on, love.”

Still suspicious of him, you cave in and walk over to the far side of the room. Pressing your back against the wall as you raise your hands up, the position makes you feel as if you've just been caught red-handed in the midst of a crime. Hook still stands by the table, waiting patiently. You try to think back to the textbook pages you went over with him, wondering if you had accidentally taught him some sort of attack charm that he was planning to use on you.

Feeling your anxiety build, you wriggle your left fingers, wrapping your thumb and middle finger around the base of your pointer. You always wear a special, very pretty ring on that hand, a gift your mother gave to you a few years ago. Fiddling with it while twisting it around and around helps to soothe you, especially when you feel nervous.

But this time, when you go to repeat the same movement you always do, you feel the absence of the familiar metal surface and engravings etched into it. Glancing up at your hand, you confirm that your ring is indeed missing. The only trace of its former presence is the two parallel, circular indents in your skin from wearing it for so long.

Your panic skyrockets now at the loss of one of your favorite possessions, practically forgetting about Hook and the unease that accompanied his bizarre request. That ring had come with a special message; the night you got it, your mother had told you, “Remember when you were younger, and I told you that people are either good or bad? Well, that’s not quite true. No one is really black or white. We’re all just shades of gray. Some people are lighter gray, and some people are darker gray. And although we might be different shades, we all fall under the same color. Remember that, Y/N.”

And you have remembered it. Every time you go to toy with your ring, those words echo in your mind. Your mom had embedded the ring with a marble featuring a swirl of many different shades of gray, a reminder of the message that came along with it. You were too young to truly understand her words back then, but now, especially in these recent moments, you think you’re starting to fully grasp what she meant.

Snapping back to the present, you realize the serious problem you have at hand. “My ring!” you cry. “I could have sworn I had it when I came here…”

“Looking for this?” Hook’s smirk is back in full force. His left arm is raised, and on the crest of his polished metal hook, your precious ring glimmers under the golden lights projected from the ceiling.

“You…! When did you even…” your voice trails off as your mind catches up to your mouth. It must have been when he leaned in, while you were demonstrating the spell. That was the only time he had gotten close enough to you, although you don’t know how in the world he nicked it off your finger without you having the slightest hint.

Then you remember, quite painfully, how flustered you had been in that moment. If you were so distracted that you couldn't even cast a simple spell right, then you certainly wouldn’t have had enough brainpower to notice a skilled thief steal from you.

“Hey! Give that back!” you exclaim, huffing angrily, a frown etched deep into your face.

“I will, darling,” Hook replies smugly. “Now, raise your hands up again. And don’t wiggle your fingers around this time.”

“Give me my ring back first!” you demand, your previous annoyance towards him coming right back.

“Let me do this first, and then you’ll get your ring. Hands up.” At your glare, Hook tilts his head to the side and gives you a look. “Don’t you trust me?”

Well, of course not, is the first thought that pops into your mind. You’re a liar and a thief, and above all, a villain.

But then you remember your mother’s words, your earlier revelation and how, just for a moment, you glimpsed Hook through a different light. So, although you definitely won't go as far as saying that you trust him, you still empathize with him enough to give in to his request.

Wordlessly, you raise your hands back up to your sides, palms facing in front of you, while fighting the urge to fidget again. You debate whether or not it’d be best to close your eyes for this, but you ultimately decide that if Hook does try to pull any more of his little tricks, all your senses should be sharp and aware.

And so you stand, frozen, as Hook raises the wand. For a second, you think he’s going to cast the spell on you. But instead, he uses his good hand to remove the ring from where it’s stuck in his hook, instead placing it dangling from the tip. He points his wand at the ring, repeating the maneuvers you two practiced so many times.

Up. The ring lifts off his hook and levitates just in front of him.

Swish. It starts vibrating like the disks, but due to its small size, your cherished ring begins to rotate on its axis.

Circle. With Hook’s circular movement of the wand, the ring’s spinning accelerates, locking on to its target—whatever that is.

Flick. For one final time, Hook flicks his wrist, this time towards you.

You watch, your heart pounding as fast as ever, as the ring—your ring—curves through the sky as it falls, getting closer and closer to you. You slam your eyes shut for just a beat, unable to bear the anticipation, before remembering your earlier rationale again.

Eyes flying open instantly, you regain your vision just as the ring falls, falls, falls, landing…

…directly on your finger.

But not the finger that you previously wore it on. Your eyes widen again in disbelief as it slips perfectly around your ring finger.

“Uh…I…uhm…” you stammer, confused and shocked and overwhelmed with far too many things at once to form a coherent sentence. How in the world did he cast such a precise Aiming Spell, in a situation where it wouldn’t have succeeded had he been even a centimeter off? And if he was so precise with his location pinpointing, then why in the world did he put it on your left ring finger??

“Come on, spit it out, love,” Hook replies teasingly. “You can say it, don’t be afraid.”

Your mind is working far too hard for you to shoot him a glare, but you mentally do it anyway. “That was…impressive,” you finally admit, although you wish you didn’t when Hook’s smug grin grows twice as wide. Ugh, his ego is already big enough. I did not need to inflate it like that.

“Could you always cast the spell that well?” you ask, still stunned at his precision. You honestly couldn’t see how anyone who had been sending disks flying all across the room a mere few hours ago was now casting spells with the accuracy of someone who had been doing this for years.

“Why, of course not. You saw how I was earlier.” Hook’s grin grows even wider as he adds, “It’s all because I had a wonderful teacher.”

You still frown at him skeptically, walking back towards the table where he stands. “I highly doubt it’s because of that. I mean, I don’t know if even I could pull something like that off with such little practice.”

At this, Hook gives a little laugh. “What do they say, the student exceeds the teacher?”

You roll your eyes at him. “No, they call it ‘beginner’s luck.’ You should be happy you got it right this time, because you might not get so lucky on your exams.”

Hook grins again, and as much as you detest the pleasure he gets from teasing you—and though you’d never admit it—a small, dark gray part of you enjoys the playful banter between you two.

“That’s why I have you, darling. If I ever need more help, I’ll know who to run to.” He leans in close to you, so close, until his mouth is right next to your ear. You start having flashbacks to your previous experiences with Hook being in a close proximity, and the combined feelings from both your memories and his current actions causes your body to heat up in a way you didn’t even know was possible. 

He tilts his head down ever so slightly towards you, his lips feathering across your ear. “And you won’t be able to get out of helping me, my little goody-goody.”

Your mind is absolutely spinning at his words, his touch, his presence, his everything. You desperately struggle to formulate some sort of response, but just as you open your mouth, ready to question his choice of ring placement, a deep, low horn sounds, reverberating off the walls.

Curfew.

Hook breaks away from you as you glance down at your wristwatch. The clock shows exactly 10:00. Gods, how did the time pass by so quickly?

You glance back up at Hook, deciding to ignore the way he so alluringly whispered in your ear just seconds ago. “Well, uh, we have to get going, then,” you awkwardly say, scratching at your neck.

Hook stands there for a moment, staring at you whilst completely motionless, making you wonder what he’s thinking and what he’s planning to do. Just as you’re about to bid him a goodnight and turn away, he reaches his good hand out, grabbing your left one. He holds it delicately in his hand, his palm cupped upwards with your fingers resting gently on top.

Slowly, and while keeping his head up just enough to maintain eye contact with you the entire way down, he bends into a bow in front of you. Only does he avert his gaze when he finally reaches your hand, looking down at your ring, which still sits on your ring finger, as he places a kiss on the bright stone.

He peers back up at you, deep brown eyes wide and expressive.

“Until we meet again, m’lady.”

on to part 2! ->

taglist: @4ng3l-ch1ld @astrynyx @0strawberrysorbet0

just leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

a/n: the demons I had to fight to not name this "if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it" haha. anyways thanks for reading!

do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Drunken Promises

luke castellan x reader.

A/N: had a request for sub luke and mommy kink luke so i combined them hehe

WARNINGS: SMUT, mommy kink, subby luke, he whimpers y'all

WORD COUNT: 886 words

Liquor never makes anyone feel better. There’s no drowning sorrows when they only drown you. Luke knows that but he drank anyway. It’s a fun night, a party for the older campers around the fire but when everyone’s left for bed, there’s no more comfort. He sobs. It’s too much for him. Everything is too much, the quests, the fighting, the intrinsic desire for glory. It doesn’t matter if he dies if he goes out in flames.

He hears your footsteps before he sees you as you wander back to the campfire. It gives him time to wipe his eyes, the redness could easily be from his intoxication.

“Forgot my jacket.” You murmur as you grab it. He thinks that you’ll likely leave right away but is irritated when you sit down and stare into the fire. No more private breakdown for him.

“Hmm.” He acknowledges your words before getting up but he stumbles, tripping over nothing and falling at your feet.

“Someone’s had too much to drink.” You tease.

“Shut up.” He grumbles and tries to get up again but you just pull him into the seat next to you.

“Maybe you need a minute before you try to walk again.”

He rolls his eyes and rubs the dirt from his face, wincing when his knuckles run over his scar. The fall perhaps made it tender and it’s still a… fresh mark.

“Are you okay?” The look in your eyes is so kind and almost maternal. It makes him blush.

“Yeah.” He lies.

“You went through a lot, Luke.”

“Everyone here goes through shit.” He brushes off your sentiment.

“Doesn’t make your shit less important.” Your words are still a bit slurred but it’s like you’ve sobered up just to comfort him and you hand him your bottle of water. You put in the effort to take care of him… and it really makes him want to kiss you. He can’t decide if that’s pathetic or not.

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbles out, knowing he would never be able to say it in any other situation.

“You’re so drunk.” You giggle a bit.

“I’m not.” He opens up the water bottle and downs half of it to try and prove himself. “At least not much drunker than you.”

“Bullshit. You’re about to fall off your seat again.” You roll your eyes and stand up, planning to drag him back to his cabin.

He grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap. “I’m not.” You can see it in his eyes. If being sober means he has a chance, then he’ll force the liquor out of his blood with a thought.

“You’re in a very vulnerable state right now, Luke.” You say with a sigh.

“Please.” He begs, putting on the puppy dog eyes. “I just need you.”

“Poor thing. You would need any girl that came across you like this.” You try to get up but he holds your hips.

“No, I just want you, I swear it. There’s no other girl like you.” His needy hands run along your waist, savouring the feel of your skin. He at least seems genuine.

“You want me to take care of you?” You murmur and his pupils blow out with lust.

“So… s’badly.” He leans in as you lean back to tease for a moment until you finally allow him to catch your lips. 

There’s so much passion in the kiss, and desire. You can feel every last ounce of appreciation and desperation in it. He knows he’s never needed anything so much like he needs your touch right now. You can feel it as he bucks his hips into yours. You lose your shorts as he unzips his and when you sink down on him, it feels like he’s found heaven between your thighs. 

You start to bounce slowly in his lap.

“Oh, fuck…” He groans as he holds you so close to him, bucking his hips up pathetically to meet your movements.

“You’re doing so good for me… so good.” You squeeze around him purposefully when he’s fully inside.

“Mmm… mommy.” He whines out and his eyes immediately widen when he realizes what he just said. “I didn’t-I mean-”

“It’s okay, baby. Let mommy take care of you.” You start kissing his neck as you grind against him and he lets out continuous whimpers.

This is one of the first times Luke has let go of control and nothing has ever felt so damn good. With all stress in his life, it’s freeing to be treated in such a way.

“I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum.”

“I think you can do better than that.” You tease.

“Please, please, please. I need to cum so badly. Please, mommy.” He’s desperate and so polite so you allow him.

“Go ahead, baby.”

You squeeze a little more to encourage him and he finishes right inside your pulsing core, letting out more whines that you muffle with your mouth.

“You did so good.” You praise, running your fingers through his curls. He wishes he could stay like this with you forever.

“I did?” His eyes light up, almost every demi-god is a sucker for being told they’re worth something.

“Couldn’t have been closer to perfect.”

And perfect is what he’ll be if it means he gets you.

tglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween  @10ava01

[cap-winter-barnes]

HEY QUEEN! i had this idea for a fic… angsty, could also be fluffy and maybe smutty? 👀 anyway, like in the original twisters, reader goes to try and get tyler to sign divorce papers and ends up chasing him around with tornadoes. then maybe she almost dies in one with him, like the pool scene, or she gets hurt? either way, they fall in love again, etc etc. !!!

Sign Your Life Away (Tyler Owens x Reader)

Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of sex, Tyler Owens (need I say more?)

It had been a while since you'd last visited your home state of Oklahoma, and it wasn't without trying, your life has just been a whirlwind of drama for the last few months. Your job had been even more demanding than usual with all of the unforeseen tornadoes smattering the map, one after another.

You are expecting this visit to be short and sweet, in and out, back to your apartment in Los Angeles. The divorce papers you have been carrying with you for quite some time, tightly fisted in your hand as you approach the growing mass of tornado chasers. Despite hoping that your soon to be ex-husband would be here upon your arrival, you soon realise that his little media circus is still awaiting the appearance of the world famous "Tornado Wrangler".

With a racing heart, you perch yourself onto the bonnet of your rented truck, boots balancing on the bumper guard. It may have been months since you last wore your wedding band but you still feel the ghost of the metal that once adorned your left hand whenever you think of Tyler Owens. Tears long dried out for the man, you take a deep breath as you prepare to see him for the first time in a long time, and hopefully for the last, you're ready for a new, fresh start in LA.

The rev of an engine brings you out of your thoughts, the blaring sound of a rock country track blaring through the air familiar to your ears. This was yours and Tyler's song. Keeping your position on your truck you watch as the Tyler's Ram speeds into the lot. You let the media crowd have their fun, surging and cheering for the arrival of their 'star'. Music still playing loudly you can't help but smile as you watch the one and only Tyler Owens soaking in the spotlight. Yet what surprises you is the false smile on his face, there's a dullness in his eyes that you can see from just watching from afar.

As you take in the sight of him, he notices you. He freezes as he makes eye contact, the smile completely disappearing from his face. A quick whisper to Boone and his crew has the crowd disperse with the promise of T-Shirts, signed merch and food to encourage them. Tyler makes a beeline for you, his confidence stride has you nervous.

"It's been a while, Baby Girl." He tips the brim of his Stetson towards you, a sad yet welcoming smile crossing his face.

"I'm not your Baby Girl anymore, Owens." You jump down from the hood, quick to press the worn papers into his chest. "Sign 'em." Before you can pull away, he has his hand around yours, holding you close to his body.

"You know neither of us want that, right?" Swallowing back a retort you meet his eyes, drowning in his hazel pools. "C'mon, Y/N." The pleading in his voice and face have your heart questioning everything.

"Tyler, it'll never work."

He breaks the eye-contact first and you swear you see the glisten of tears in his eyes. "It was good while it lasted, Owens. But we both want very different things."

"Ju-"

"Sign the papers, please. I'm staying in El Reno, come by the motel tomorrow and drop them off."

Without another word you turn your back on the man you used to love, truck door now between you both, you take one more look at Tyler as you see his heart breaking in front of you all over again.

"Okay. If this is what you want."

*The Next Evening*

You're not shocked that Tyler is late to drop off the divorce papers but why do you not feel disappointed that he never showed? Just as you are about to leave to set off back for home, there's a loud knocking at the door. With a sigh you open the door to be suddenly met with Tyler standing dishevelled and soaking with rain in front of you.

"We need to leave, now!"

The panic in his voice is enough to put your trust in him.

"Ty?"

"We need to move, now! I'm serious, let's go." He holds his hand out to you and without a second thought you place yours in his. As you make your way out of the motel room, you notice the chaos erupting around you.

"What the fuck? Tyler, where did this come from?"

With a rambled and short explanation you know just from his tone and demeanour that you're really in trouble if you don't get moving. The tornado is unmissable as it covers the horizon, debris flying across the sky, tearing apart everything in its path.

"We need to find somewhere low."

Immediately your mind goes to the empty swimming pool across the lot, you pull on Tyler's hand, guiding him in the right direction. Over all the destruction you make out the sound of a woman screaming and a young child crying. "Ty!" With one swift nod he runs across the lot to help, carrying the little girl carefully in his arms, never letting the mother out of sight.

The wind speed ratchets up quicker than you expect, this isn't your first experience with a tornado but this is the closest you've ever been to one outside the protection of the Ram. You loved storm chasing with Tyler, long before you were married and during those blissful few years that you were still in that honeymoon stage. A scream leaves your chest as you watch a truck somersault mere inches from crushing him to death. And you know if that moment that those divorce papers were a mistake. You were still madly, irrevocably in love with Tyler Owens, you'd just been in denial for all this time.

As he keeps your shielded from most of the force of mother nature, his arms wrapped around you, keeping you safe, you pray that you both make it through this to work things out.

Seconds feel like hours before the tornado passes. You can't help but shiver violently with fear, exhaustion and the effects of the rain seeping into your skin. Yet as you take in the destruction around you, your mind is on only one thing - Tyler Owens. Without taking a second thought you grab him by the collars of his shirt and pull him towards you. As you press your lips to his own, you can't help regret leaving him behind all those months ago, what an idiot you had been. But you know here and now is where you belong, in his arms.

Part 2 Coming Soon

[goldenempyrean]

Spring Showers

〚 Notes - Hello! This was based off this: request! I was meant to post this yesterday I think but something came up. Hopefully this is enjoyable, honestly feels good to write again :) 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - When you’re sick, your day goes from bad to worse. A small car breakdown later and you find yourself unexpectedly bumping into Natasha. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2681 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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Waking up that fresh spring morning, you rolled over to snooze the alarm that had pulled you out of your slumber, hitting it lazily before letting gravity take control and send your arm flopping over the edge of the bed.

You groaned a little as it hit the edge of your bed, rubbing your elbow with an annoyed look as if somehow death-staring the metal frame would make up for it.

As you begrudgingly got out of bed, the chill of the early morning hit you, sending a shiver down your spine. You had to admit felt a bit off, today. Your head heavy and your throat scratchy but you ignored the signs of fatigue and finished getting dressed and ready for the day.

Nat was always one to be up and out early in the mornings. Running, training or sometimes even just reading, whatever it was, she was definitely up and ready for her day before sunrise. Early bird gets the worm? Well, the early widow gets her 90-minute workout in without being disturbed. She liked it that way.

Unfortunately, it meant you usually weren’t able to see her most days before heading out to work - the rare exception being when you were on a late shift and got a few extra hours at home before heading out.

You weren’t an Avenger like your girlfriend, instead you served the people of New York by working in the local hospital as the Chief Nurse in charge. It was a demanding job, but one you found incredibly rewarding.

The pouring rain grabbed back your wandering attention as you sat sleepily over your chosen bowl of cereal. You hadn’t really had an appetite but had forced a few bites down regardless before you lost interest. Checking your phone, you realised you needed to set off, so you grabbed your car keys and headed out the compound.

As you pulled into the hospital's parking lot, you mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead. You tried to clear your throat as you checked yourself over in the mirror, but it ended in you coughing raspily and sighing in defeat as you rubbed your throat. Maybe water would get rid of the soreness, you thought as you took a tentative sip from your bottle… nope, it still hurt. What a fun day this was going to be.

Whoever said being in charge was fun, was sorely mistaken. Throughout the morning, you found yourself raising your voice more often than usual to be heard over the cacophony of the emergency room. By midday, your voice had started to crack and strain, sending sharp pains down your throat with each word.

Eventually you resigned yourself to your office, sick (literally) of the mix of pitiful, disgusted and annoyed glances you were receiving from both residents and patients.

As you sat in your office, trying to soothe your aching throat and mustering the energy to tackle the mountain of paperwork on your desk, the hospital intercom made you jump as it crackled to life, urgently calling you to the ER.

You groaned but despite your muscle’s aching, your instincts kicked in, and you rushed out of your office towards the ER.

As you entered the chaotic room, your senses were assaulted by the echo of urgent voices and the sharp smell of antiseptic made your eyes water.

You had barely assessed the ongoing situation before a sudden sneeze erupted from you, surprising yourself with its volume. You’d quickly covered your mouth, but the damage was done. Several heads turned in your direction, eyebrows raised in concern.

Before you could even attempt to explain, your boss appeared, her expression a mix of concern and sternness. "What are you doing here, Y/N?" She asked, her tone indicating she already knew the answer.

You tried to muster a response, but your throat rebelled, emitting only a hoarse croak instead.

Your bosses' eyes softened slightly, an understanding look settling on her face. "You're ill," She stated matter-of-factly. "Go home, rest, and don't come back until you're fully recovered. We don’t need you starting an epidemic.”

Despite your protests, she ushered you out of the ER and back to your office to collect your belongings. She helped you collect your things, only stopping to hold a thermometer to your ear as she checked your temperature.

You thanked her hoarsely as she held open the door for you, “Seriously, I don’t want you back until 48 hours after that fever breaks.” She warned with a stern tone but the gentle pat on your back made it obvious she was just worried that’s all.

As you stepped out of the hospital, the chilly rain immediately soaked through your clothes, sending shivers down your spine. You dropped your keys twice as you fumbled to unlock your car, finally flopping down behind the wheel with an drained sigh - a sigh which your crackling lungs despised, reprimanding you in the form of a burning cough.

As you drove home, the rain beat relentlessly against the windshield, blurring the already dimly lit road ahead. Each cough sent a sharp pang through your chest, and your vision blurred with exhaustion. You tried to focus on driving safely, your mind drifting to the warmth of your bed and girlfriend waiting for you at home. Not long now…

But just as you approached a traffic light, your car sputtered, the engine emitting a series of ominous noises before finally giving out with a pathetic wheeze. Panic seized you as you coasted to the side of the road, hazard lights flashing weakly in the rain.

You tried to restart the engine, but it only responded with a feeble groan before falling silent again.

“Oh you piece of shit!” You slammed your hand on the wheel as the car’s engine light flickered an angry red, “Stupid, fucking-“ An awful cough broke off your curse, your grip on the wheel turning white as your lungs burned.

After you caught your breath, you leaned back in your seat, feeling utterly defeated. Each raindrop seemed to mock your predicament, drumming against the windshield like a cruel taunt. With a heavy heart and a pounding headache you pulled out your phone - fighting back exhausted tears as you saw the critical low battery warning flash up on the screen.

You didn’t know the number of any breakdown services or anyone that could really be of help. The most you were able to do was to text Tony to ask him to help you move your car tomorrow. He had always been quick to respond so you found your spirits lifting just an inch higher when he agreed. However, those spirits were surely crushed when you opened up the Uber app on your phone only for the screen to turn black, taunting you with the picture of an empty battery.

“For fucks sake!”

There was nothing more you could do. You’d just have to walk. Nobody was coming to save you. You were a grown girl. You can look after yourself. There was a grocery store just down this road, maybe 10 minutes or so. You’d be able to stop there, rest, maybe pick up a few supplies. There’d be a phone there too, you’d be able to call someone to pick you up.

As you trudged through the rain, each step heavier than the last, you had to practically drag yourself down the street as your congested lungs begged for air. It was hard for see through the constant rain; the whistling of the wind made your ears throb. The chill of your soaked clothes clung tightly to your skin, and the coughing fits continued to rack your exhausted body until finally you’d made it.

You didn’t wait any longer before heading inside. The bright fluoresce of the lights made your eyes sting a little but this was miles better compared to being outside getting battered by the rain.

With each stumbling step, you grabbed a basket make your way to find some medicine. You just wanted something to make you feel better, just anything that would put an end to your awful day.

Maybe you should get some actual groceries whilst you where did. It wouldn’t hurt to stock up the cupboards a little, you might as well consider you were here.

Little did you know your girlfriend was already one step ahead of you.

Natasha’s eyes widened a little as she strolled down the aisle, pushing along half a cart of groceries as she hummed. Y/N? What were you doing here? This was a pleasant surprise and she kept quiet as she snuck up to you.

“Hey bub.” Her warm voice murmured, and you felt familiar arms wrap around the front of your waist. Natasha’s head came to rest on your shoulder as she nosied at what you were looking at, “I thought we agreed that I’d be doing groceries this week.” She purred, kissing the side of your neck sweetly.

You shrugged through gritted teeth, your damp clothes crinkling uncomfortably, “I just needed something.”

“Hold on.” Her brow crinkled just a little, “I thought you had work?” She paused, her face shifting slightly as she realised just how soaked you were. This was not the kind of damp someone got just walking from the car to the entrance. You were drenched! “God, you’re soaked Y/N! Where on earth have you been? Did you walk here?!”

Your eyes cast to the floor. You’d forgotten that it was usually the day that the two of you had gone grocery shopping. Of course, it hadn’t even occurred to you that Nat might’ve been in the store.

“I may have got a little damp.” You sniffled thickly, trying to keep your tone neutral but the painful rasp in your voice instantly gave yourself away, “…and my car may or may not have broken down coming back from work.”

Natasha's concern deepened as she noticed your raspy voice. "Oh, sweetheart, you should have called me. I would've come to pick you up." Her voice softened, filled with genuine worry. Her grip tightened around you a little. “You're not just ‘damp’, you're practically drenched and- oh, what’s this?” Her eyes glanced down, noticing the theme of items in your own basket.

She had just about to ask you about them, but her question was answered when you ducked into your elbow with two forceful sounding sneezes barely seconds later.

“Double bless you!” Her tone shifted instantly to one of comfort, “Guess I don’t need to ask why your voice is so hoarse and you’re buying meds then, hm?” She cooed and you turned around with a pout, letting your head fall onto her shoulder as you wrapped your arms around her.

“You’re not feeling well.” It wasn’t a question, she just looked at you, looking deep into your weary eyes as she continued to hold you, “How long?”

You let out a small cough into her shoulder, “This morning. Got worse at work, got sent home which was beyond embarrassing.” Your croaking voice mumbled in defeat as Nat’s hand came to soothingly rub your back.

“I’m so tired and achy.” You continued, grumbling softly, finally feeling the weight of the day begin to let up as Nat continued to hold you in the moment, “My throat’s been so bad all day and I’ve had to constantly yell at people to do their jobs properly because apparently they’re all incompetent idiots that don’t know their elbows from their arse!”

Natasha couldn’t help but laugh a little at your choice of words but quickly shut up when you shot her a glare - of course the glare had been in no way intimidating with your sleepy eyes and runny nose, but she got the hint regardless.

“Sounds rough sunshine.” She murmured, sympathetically rubbing your back before the two of you began to walk towards another aisle, “Let me get those for you, oh and the car?” She asked, realising you hadn’t explained.

Nat took the basket from your hand and put it in her cart despite your objections, “It just decided to give up on me, right in the middle of driving home. I text Tony and he said he’d get it moved tomorrow but then my phone died before I could call an uber so I had to walk the way back.” You coughed harshly as you explained what had happened, rubbing your throat with a whine.

“That’s some awful luck sweetheart, I’m sorry. How about we get you a few things and just spend the rest of the day being warm and cosy?” Nat offered as a pulled a stuffed animal from the shelf, nuzzling it against your cheek before putting it into the cart.

Your face lightened up a little and you found yourself keeping a little closer to her as the pair of you continued through the store, “You wanna get some ice cream for that poor throat of yours sweet girl?” She asked, but of course she already what the answer would be.

As you nodded eagerly, Natasha smiled, glad to see a hint of brightness returning to your expression. She led you to the freezer section, picking out your favourite flavour without hesitation. "Here we go," she said, placing it gently in the cart beside you. "Oh, and we should get some tea as well, all we have is that herbal stuff Wanda likes but it’s kinda bitter, you’ll feel better with something sweeter. I think.”

She kept her hand softly holding your own you both headed over to find the tea - occasionally pausing as Nat picked up some of the general groceries you needed but it was hard to miss how she kept adding in small treats for you along the way, your favourite drink, snacks she even chose your favourite scent of laundry detergent.

Eventually your fever raging brain felt too fuzzy to keep paying attention, so you switched off, trusting her enough to let her lead you along without asking questions.

Her voice seemed to echo and your vision blur before a hand cupping your cheek brought you back to reality. “Hey, earth to Y/N.” Natasha repeated herself, “You dazed out for a second there sweetie. Did you hear what I said?”

“Uh, no, sorry.” You answered sheepishly, warm embarrassment creeping up into your cheeks.

But Nat only smiled at you, her warm gaze making you relax, “I asked what tea you’d like baby.”

You nodded and turned to look over the assortment of boxes. You weren’t much of a tea person, in fact you never really drank it at all unless you were sick and Nat was definitely more of a coffee girl, herself. As you looked over the selection, a sudden sneeze caught you off guard, you stumbled back a little and bumped into Nat which made your girlfriend shake her head fondly as you sniffled in surprise.

“Bless you again. Looks like we’ll need some more tissues," She deducted, kissing your cheek swiftly before jogging back to the previous aisle, quickly returning with a few extra boxes and added them to the cart.

"You poor thing," Nat said sympathetically, as she opened one of the boxes in the cart and handing you a tissue. "Here, blow your nose love.”

“Thanks.”

“Berry-Bliss?” She read the name of the tea you’d chosen, after you’d finished blowing nose. “Is that one the kind you want?”

You shrugged sluggishly, biting back a groan as your muscles ached, “I’ll give it a try.”

“Worth a try.” She agreed, taking the box from you, not missing the chance to kiss your forehead as she did so. “You’re really warm baby. How about we pay up and get you back home sweetheart? I know you’re exhausted.”

As she suggested heading home, you nodded gratefully, taking her hand and letting her lead you towards the check outs. It wouldn’t take long to pay and get home but when you did, you knew you were in for an evening of cuddling and love.

Who could ask for more?

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[happy74827]

The Lesson of Reality

[Rick Grimes and Child!Reader]

Synopsis: You accidentally get a lot more “experience” than what Rick had planned.

WC: 3080

Category: Slight Angst, S6!Rick (no TOWL spoilers) {TW — Gore, Violence, Walkers, Blood, Death}

There’s so many fics about Daryl being a father figure that it’s about time that Rick had his Joel Miller moment (especially now that all the episodes of The Ones Who Live have aired). So have fun with this cute Protective!Rick moment.

『••✎••』

They say when times are tough, people can rise to the occasion and show their true colors. For some, it's an opportunity to prove they can survive the hardships and come out the other side stronger, wiser, and more experienced. Then there is the scum of the earth. They will take any opportunity to steal, kill, and hurt others while they try and make it out unscathed.

For Rick, he wanted you to be part of the former. He always saw your potential to become a fighter—a survivor. Hell, you made it this long by yourself, after all. You had to learn and adapt to the world.

And given your age, it was a hard thing to accomplish.

Your innocence didn't help, either. On one hand, he wanted to keep you as innocent and childlike as possible for as long as he could. The world was already a shit-show. The least you could do was still have the mentality of the child you were supposed to be. Being only ten years old, it was the right thing to do.

But then he remembers what the world was like now. If he let you live with that naivety, it'd get you killed. And it didn’t matter how intelligent you were because even if it saved your ass a few times, it won’t forever.

The fact of the matter is you were going to be hurt no matter what. And you had to be prepared for it.

He had already shown his own son, Carl, the harshness of the new world. He didn't want to do it, but the world left him no choice. And he couldn't deny the boy the means to defend himself and his family.

And even if you weren’t his kid, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do the same for you.

He just needed the right time to teach you… to remind you that Alexandria isn’t the safest place on the planet.

The perfect time came when the Wolves attacked the group, and the gates were broken down.

After all the tragedy and loss, and Alexandria started to rebuild and strengthen their walls once again, Rick decided then was the time to toughen you up.

And thus, there you were, sitting on a tree stump as Rick stood in front of you, knife in hand, and Daryl beside him.

Eugene was also there, but he was standing to the side, watching with mild curiosity.

“You sure ‘bout this?” Daryl asked, looking from you to Rick, brows furrowed in concern. “It’s good takin' 'em outside the walls, but now? After everything that just happened, I mean? The people need yah right now, man. And the last thing we need is for the lil' squirt here to get hurt, too. Yer already lookin' rough as it is."

"I'll be fine, Daryl," Rick replied, his eyes not leaving yours. “Besides, I won’t be gone long. It’s just a quick look around. In and out, and then I'll be back. Two days, tops.”

Everyone around you seemed to be on edge, with the attack on the walls still fresh in their minds. But you?

Well, you were too busy staring at the shiny, shiny knife. Excitement shone in your eyes as your fingers twitched.

Truth be told, ever since Daryl and Aaron found you alone, wandering the woods and eating raw squirrel, and brought you to Alexandria, you felt as if something was missing.

You had never been the most social kid. You had the bare minimum amount of friends at school. None of them stuck around after you were pulled out of school. You had no close relatives that wanted you around. No father figure and the only motherly presence in your life was gone before you understood the new reality.

And while there were other kids in Alexandria, the older ones were already too busy trying to act like adults, and the younger ones were too immature. Sam, the kid that had once been closest to your age, was just a crybaby who didn’t know any better. He was scared of the dark and the idea of a walker. He never went outside the walls, so it was no wonder.

It was like living in a house full of strangers. They were all kind to you, but there was something missing.

But the Grimes family? Well, you couldn't help but feel more comfortable around them. Carl didn’t seem to like you, at least not at first, but ever since the “Wolves” attack and sudden loss of his eye, he was becoming nicer.

And then there was Rick. He was always kind, but after the incident, he became even kinder. More attentive and caring. Always checking on you, making sure you were safe and comfortable. Something about that night must've really changed him because he's been different since then.

And you liked it. You felt more comfortable around him. You didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was because he had saved you from a walker, or perhaps it was the way he talked to you, but you enjoyed his company.

You also loved destroying him in Gin Rummy. With the mix of his shocked expression and Michonne’s laughter, it was priceless.

Rick looked back at Daryl, who was still giving him a doubtful expression. But it wasn’t a no. So, Rick took it as a sign of agreement.

Daryl huffed and put a hand on his hip, shifting his weight to his right side. "Alright, alright. But if somethin' goes wrong, I won’t hesitate to tell ya I told ya so, yah hear me?”

Rick snorted. "Wouldn’t expect any less from you."

Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head, a smirk on his lips. He gave you one more glance, and then he turned and left.

With that out of the way, Rick focused on the task at hand. That’s when Eugene made his presence known. He was the man with the map, so to speak.

He came over and laid the map of the area on the ground in front of you.

"I've marked the areas of the woods I believe would be best suited for your scavenging mission. However, should your route take a turn, there are several alternate routes to get back. There are also a few marked areas with potential food sources, water, and the possibility of tools or other survival necessities.

"Thank you, Eugene. I appreciate this," Rick said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. Eugene smiled and nodded.

"You're welcome, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, Rosita and I have an appointment at the gate to inspect and repair the damaged panels.” Eugene stood up and straightened his clothes, and then he was gone, heading back to the gate.

"Ready?" Rick asked. You looked up at him, smiling, and gave a nod. Soon, you were off into the rusty car that Daryl had brought from outside the walls.

You sat in the back seat, along with the bags semi-full of supplies and some extra weapons. Most of them belonged to Rick, however, so all you had was your old baseball cap.

And, of course, the old switchblade that Daryl gave you a while back.

For most of the scavenge trip, it was peaceful. The occasional walker showed up here and there, but for the most part, they were few and far between.

You found a lot of supplies. Food, medicine, clothes, and anything else you could think of. Rick also made sure to teach you how to pick locks, avoid traps, and a bunch of other skills.

But, of course, as things go, something has to go wrong.

A group of walkers, about twenty or so, showed up. It was no big deal. It was a lot, but nothing you couldn't handle.

You and Rick quickly got to work, taking them out one by one. You had gotten good with your knife, and with some pointers from Rick, you were practically a pro.

And then there was Rick, swinging his machete, stabbing and slashing his way through the herd. His face was a mix of focus and calm. It was impressive.

But the problem wasn’t the walkers. You were both doing fine. The problem was the aftermath. When the last walker fell to your feet, a gun rose and pointed at Rick's head.

And the guy holding the gun? Well, he looked like a psychopath. He had a smile that sent shivers down your spine, and it didn't help that the sun was starting to set.

"Hey there. Nice work taking out those rotters. But I'm going to have to ask you to hand over the bags and all the weapons you have. Oh, and I love that baseball cap. That'll be mine, too."

Well, Rick wanted you to toughen up. It seemed the universe had the same idea.

Somehow, you ended up behind Rick, shielded from the man and his gun. Your heart was pounding in your ears as the adrenaline kicked in. You didn't know what to do.

Rick didn't, either. Not when a group of armed men stepped out of the trees and aimed their guns at him. He didn't even have the time to reach for his machete.

Rick raised his hands, but his body was tense.

"Don't," was the only thing he said. His voice was stern, a growl hidden underneath. The man grinned and laughed.

"Oh, I'm gonna have fun with you," the man sneered.

Suddenly, all of them charged forward, grabbing the two of you. Your cap was taken, and Rick's machete was tossed away.

Despite the stronghold, Rick was able to kick and punch his way through his attackers. Even with the gun being pointed at him and the man pulling the trigger, he still managed to dodge the bullet and throw a few more punches.

The man growled, but the smile didn't leave his face.

"Feisty, aren't you? I love a challenge."

With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the butt of the gun against Rick's temple, sending him to the ground.

"Rick!" You yelled but were cut off when someone grabbed you by the hair and pulled, eliciting a scream from you.

"What a cutie," the man purred, grabbing you by the chin. You tried to pull away, but he held tight.

"How old are you, huh? Six? Seven? Eh, it doesn't matter. All kids are the same. Little shits who don't know their place."

You took that as a sign. You spat in his face. He didn't even flinch. In fact, the smile only widened. It pissed you off so much that you did the one thing that would definitely take a smile off his face.

You saw it done once, with a foot. A woman back in Alexandria seemed upset with a man, and she took her boot and kicked him right where you aimed your switchblade.

You weren't sure if it was a good idea, but it was the only thing you could think of.

So you did. And let me tell you, that was one of the few times you had ever heard someone scream so loud. He dropped you in an instant, unfortunately taking the knife with him.

“Son of a-!! You little-!!” Pain and anger laced the man's words as he clutched himself. You scrambled back, watching with wide eyes as he slowly recovered.

He didn’t dare try to crawl over to you, though. He didn’t trust his body to move.

Instead, he turned his attention to his side, where his small pistol had been tossed. He reached over and picked it up, pointing the barrel in your direction.

“I was gonna be nice… maybe have a little fun, but now?” He let out a painful chuckle. The smile was still there, but it was laced with anger. He groaned in pain, and his body shook.

Still, his hands remained steady.

"You little shit. I outta blow your head off. Let the rotters tear you apart, limb from limb. Would serve you right.”

Rick's heart stopped at that. The gun was aimed at you, and he was too far away. Even if he charged, he wouldn't make it in time.

There was no other option.

Just as the man squinted his eyes, about to pull the trigger, the sound of a gunshot rang through the air. It made the man jump and look around, right in time to see one of his men fall to the ground.

"What the-?"

You turned and saw Rick tussling with another man, the one holding a gun, who was fighting for control.

The man who had his gun pointed at you took the opportunity to shoot it again, but you were prepared enough to duck out of the way.

The bullet went into a tree, and by the time the next one fired, he was the last one standing.

And boy, was he pissed. The bullet once again missed his target, but only barely.

That was enough, though. Just enough to get Rick to kick the gun out of his hands before pressing his boot right where your pocket knife was still sticking out.

Rick had the advantage, and it was obvious, with the screams of agony coming from the man. He was on his knees, clutching his crotch, and Rick had a firm hand on the back of his head, ready to bash his skull into the ground if need be.

But he didn't. He had other plans.

He pulled out your knife, only to stick it right back into place and then some.

"Ah! You crazy bas-!! Fuck!!"

"You’re going to listen to me. Real good, you’ hear?” Rick’s voice was dark, and the man nodded frantically.

"Grab his gun and come over here."

You did as you were told, picking up the pistol and slowly walking over. The man whimpered, tears staining his cheeks as blood seeped through his pants.

"You're gonna stand there and keep your gun pointed at his head while I tie his hands together. If he even twitches, shoot him."

You gulped but nodded. You kept your arms out, hands as steady as you could make them.

“You sick, twisted, fuckin' asshole. I'll fucking kill you!" The man snarled, his teeth gritting and his face contorted in pain.

"That's cute," Rick said. He was quick to tie the man's wrists together. Rick was just as quick to grab him and force him on his feet before kicking the back of his knees and sending him sprawling on the ground.

"Stay," Rick commanded him like a dog, and you couldn't help but smile a little at the man's pained, angry expression.

Rick quickly gathered the supplies and the bag, and then he was over to you, giving you a once-over.

"You hurt? Bleeding? Anything broken?"

"N-No, I'm okay," you replied, voice wavering a bit.

"Good," he breathed out, and you noticed he was shaking a bit, too. Not enough to notice at first glance, but enough to know that he was trying his hardest not to.

He took the gun from your hands gingerly, and then he was kneeling before the man.

"Who are you?"

The man was silent. Rick didn't wait long before aiming the gun at the man's right thigh.

"Let me rephrase that. Who are you? What's your name?"

"Fuck y—”

Rick shot the man in the thigh without any hesitation. The scream of pain made you jump.

"Try again. Who are you?"

"Aah!! Fuck!! I-I'm Dave, okay? My name's Dave!"

"Okay, Dave. Good. Now, why did you attack us? And don't think I'm above shooting you again, or worse, so be honest. I can tell when someone's lying to me."

"We were just passing through! Saw you and thought, 'Hey, easy pickings!' Didn't expect you to be the goddamn terminator!"

"Passing through to where?"

Silence. Rick sighed and shook his head, but before he could fire another shot, Dave finally caved.

"Back to c-camp. Please, we have family. Wives, children… We meant nothin' by it! We swear! We just-! We were hungry. We were starving! Please, have mercy!"

"Children? Like the one you just threatened to shoot in the head?" Rick growled. Dave flinched.

"N-no, I-"

“Where are they? Down that stream? I saw your tracks earlier. That was you, wasn’t it?"

Dave's silence spoke volumes. Rick looked back at you, and you were staring at the man, wide-eyed and fearful, not of him specifically, but of what Rick could do to him.

Rick took a deep breath and then turned back to Dave.

"How many are there?"

"T-Ten. Maybe eleven."

"Are they armed?"

"J-Just with knives and stuff."

"You got anything else? Any other guns or ammo?"

"N-No. Please, just let us go! We won't bother you again! Just don't hurt me."

Rick looked back at you again. Your eyes were still locked on the man, but you could feel his gaze. You looked up at him.

"With that stunt, you just pulled,” Rick stood up, his eyes still aligned with yours, but he wasn’t speaking to you. He was addressing Dave.

"I can’t take that chance.”

Then the bullet fired, and soon it was just you and Rick with a bunch of corpses.

He quickly holstered the gun and rushed to bags left on the ground.

"What about his family?” Your voice was shaken. You had never seen someone shot like that, point blank.

Rick sighed, pausing in his movements.

"They don’t exist.” Rick stood and turned, looking you in the eye. “I know people like him. If he had a family, they're already dead, or he killed them himself.”

You didn’t break eye contact, “and if you’re wrong? What then?"

Rick didn’t even blink. "Then I saved them a lot of suffering."

Rick didn't like doing this, killing people, taking life. He hated it, really.

But he would be damned if anyone ever laid a hand on his family or his people. Even if it meant getting a little bloody.

You had to turn away from him, from the intensity of his stare.

Rick sighed and walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"You did good back there. Really good. The world it’s… It ain't kind to people. And even though I hope it never happens, you have to be prepared for anything. For anyone."

Rick squeezed your shoulder, and his voice was gentle.

"And, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."

[stayinlimbo]

the world is ending (but i'm happy you're here with me)

pairing: lee minho x f!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort warnings: one (1) swear, mc is mentioned to have longer hair at one point, slightly unedited, lowercase intended word count: 1.07k note: i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you enjoy it too ♡

there comes a time in every girl’s life where the overwhelming urge to change her physical appearance eclipses all sensible and rational thought. as it turns out, you’re no exception. 

“you’re going to laugh.”

“no i’m not.” 

“you already are,” you deadpan, frowning at minho’s pitiful attempts to repress the growing smile quirking at his lips. your boyfriend has the audacity to chuckle at your words, pushing himself off the couch and gliding towards your stiff figure standing at the entrance of the living room. 

“you can’t blame me, you look so cute and adorable right now,” he defends. an arm snakes around your shoulders and you relax slightly at his touch, wrapping your arms around his middle. “besides, it can’t be that bad—at least, not enough for you to have to hide from me.” 

minho pulls you further into the warmth of his chest, the tender embrace sending a small shiver down your spine. his lips meet the side of your hooded head in a firm kiss, the extra pressure ensuring you would feel the loving gesture. the usual trail of kisses towards your forehead and cheeks is blocked, currently concealed by your (his) hoodie’s drawstrings working overtime to reveal only a small oval of skin. 

the hood’s bunched fabric frames the top of your eyes and lips. you can barely see in front of you until one of minho’s fingers slips into the opening to try and take a peek at what’s covered inside. 

minho is being nice; you look ridiculous.

and it’s your fault really. you should have known you couldn't escape your misfortunes that easily. 

work for the past month has been hell: the road-closure of the usual route you’d take, tacking on an additional fifteen minutes to your commute. the early mornings you have to endure to clock-in on time. the “important” group project your boss delegated around the office. the unpaid overtime for said project. the same petty, passive-aggressive coworkers breathing down your neck and critiquing your every move because you made a mistake once—all casting insurmountable pressure on your already exhausted state. 

you finally snapped when someone callously stole the lunch minho had prepared for you from the breakroom’s fridge. 

you suppose now it was your brain’s attempt to regain some sort of control over the strenuous situation, but the impulse to cut your hair, try a new style, start fresh with your appearance bombarded every thought on the journey home. call it an impulsive thought, an intrusive thought, whatever—you needed to do something.

too bad the hair stylist couldn’t follow directions for shit. 

“minho, i’m serious,” you whine, burying your face further into his chest. suffocating in the arms of the man you love doesn’t sound like such a bad idea right now. “she ruined my hair. how am i supposed to go out in public like this?”

“i can’t tell you if you haven’t even shown me yet. i’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” he muses, chuckling at the vibrations tickling his torso from the muffled groan you release. 

minho starts to sway the two of you back and forth at your silence. the rhythmic movement cradles you in a comforting hold, temporarily soothing your spiraling thoughts. he’s right; you’re going to have to show him at some point. might as well just get it over with now. 

a defeated sigh escapes you. well, here goes nothing.

you step out of minho’s arms and pry the hood off to reveal your botched hair in all its glory. 

uneven bangs, a completely different color than from when you left for work this morning, fall into your face and cover the top of your eyes. you can’t see yourself but judging from minho’s small hiss and surprised, contorted face, it’s not pretty. 

and it’s not like you asked for anything outlandish: a standard cut and a new style of bangs was your definition of revamping your appearance. so when the stylist cut off a majority of your hair, it took everything within you to not immediately burst into tears as the salon’s floor and your lap splayed the once lengthy remains. 

you don’t even know where she got the idea of bleaching your hair. now your wallet and soul are emptier than ever and there is nothing you can do except hope minho doesn’t ask you to turn around because the layers are downright atrocious. 

“so? what do you think?” a wobbly smile makes its way onto your face. “not what you were expecting, right?”

you can’t help the tears welling into your eyes at his silence. he’s just…staring. certainly this can’t be the dealbreaker, right?

 …right?

you’re saved from your inner turmoil when minho moves forward to carefully bring you back into his arms. the tears finally spill down your cheeks and onto his shirt, the comforting scent of minho flooding your senses once again. if you could hide here forever, you would. 

“it’ll grow back.” 

“i know.”

“you still look sexy.” he pinches your side, coaxing a watery laugh from you. his smile is infectious, and you can’t help but tearfully look up at him with one of your own. 

you playfully guide one of his hands towards the back of your damaged hair, leaving it there. “so you’re not breaking up with me over this?” you tease, resting your head back against his chest. you don’t notice the subtle shift in your boyfriend’s gaze until he softly calls your name.   

“i would love you even if you were bald,” he confesses quietly, squeezing you tighter to him.

you can’t help but snort into his chest. “yeah?” 

“yeah. i will love you now until it’s long again. i will love you with any hair cut, color, style, anything. even if you hate it or one day regret it, my love for you won’t change,” minho assures, his sincerity echoing in his words.

“so if i dyed my hair pink tomorrow, you’d be okay with it?”

“do what you want, whenever you want.” 

because it doesn’t matter to him what you do with your hair. you’re still you, his beautiful and resilient (and sexy) girlfriend. even as his hands run through the chopped, disproportionate strands on the back of your head, he finds you more and more enchanting with each passing day.

“i will be here for you. always.” 

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺

(“i still have to go to work.” 

“just wear a hat.”)

────────────────────────────────────────────

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm onto you

It may be Halloween, but it's also...@simplebtromance's birthday!!! You've been here with me pretty much since the beginning, and you deserve so much more than this ficlet, but I hope you love this anyway! We've had many a discussion about queer Wayne, so this is just a little something for you to sip on as a birthday treat 💖

rated t | 1,605 words check ao3 for more tags

Wayne liked to think he couldn’t be rattled, not since Eddie “died” and showed up on his doorstep being held up by Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson looking like he hadn’t slept in a week and hadn’t showered for even longer.

But walking into his trailer to see Steve Harrington wrapped up in Eddie’s arms on his couch did startle him a bit.

It’s not like Steve was a stranger, not since he’d explained some of what happened to Eddie with certain looks that told him he wasn’t able to say more, please don’t ask, please accept what I’m telling you as the full truth and nothing but the truth. But he’d only been over when the kids were over, hanging back and watching them have fun with Eddie with a soft smile on his face.

Wayne noticed, he always noticed. But he didn’t really think much of it until now.

Steve was lying on top of Eddie, head on his chest and hand gripping his shirt like a lifeline. His face was relaxed, though, lips parted as he breathed shallowly. Eddie’s arms were wrapped around his back, hands not quite gripping, but clearly holding him tight.

It could be nothing.

It could just be that both of these boys had seen things that most wouldn’t understand and found solace in each other.

It could be that they didn’t mean to fall asleep like this.

It could be that they were exploring something together.

Wayne smiled to himself when Steve’s hand loosened, falling away from Eddie’s shirt. Eddie’s arms tightened briefly, his head turning so that his face buried more into Steve’s hair.

He walked towards his bedroom with the same fond smile on his face.

– – – – – –

It wasn’t the first time Wayne was woken up by the sound of loud music playing, but it was definitely the first time that it was the sound of Blondie blasting through the speakers of Eddie’s boombox.

His alarm clock said that it was almost ten in the morning, so he couldn’t be too mad. Six hours of sleep was more than he got for years, and from the sounds of it, Steve was still here and probably making them breakfast.

He’d done that a lot when Eddie was healing, unable to do much other than walk to the bathroom when he needed to and eat in his bed. Wayne was grateful for it, for Steve.

When he walked into the kitchen, he froze.

Eddie was sitting on the counter, Steve standing between his legs.

Kissing.

He considered turning around and pretending he hadn’t seen it, figured they’d both come to him when they were ready to acknowledge whatever they were.

But when he heard a quiet moan, he had to let them know he was there.

“Mornin’ boys.”

They jumped apart quickly, Steve turning towards the pan on the stove full of bacon with an obvious flush covering the back of his neck.

Eddie jumped off of the counter and tried to hide Steve’s discomfort.

“Hey. Sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you up,” Eddie started tugging on the ends of his hair, his nervous habit from childhood, even before his hair was this long.

“Music’s kinda loud. It’s okay though. Whatcha makin’?” He asked, pretending everything was normal, not pointing out that he’d just walked in on them making out in the kitchen.

“Bacon,” Steve’s shaking voice came from behind Eddie. “Fried eggs. Toast with peanut butter or jelly.”

“Sounds great,” Wayne said, walking to the coffee pot to grab a cup of coffee, smiling to himself when he realized that one of them had started a fresh pot not too long ago.

He snuck a glance at Steve, who looked like he was going to start crying any moment.

And that just didn’t sit right.

He didn’t want Steve to ever feel uncomfortable here, whether he was here as a friend to Eddie or more.

He set his mug back down without taking a sip and gently pushed Eddie aside to tug Steve into a hug.

Steve tensed in his arms for a moment, then relaxed, a shaky breath leaving him as Wayne rubbed his back.

“You’re allowed to be happy here, Steve. You don’t gotta tell me anything you don’t wanna, but you’re safe in this house. You and Ed both,” he said softly against the top of Steve’s head.

He was reminded of a similar discussion he’d had with Eddie when he was 14, when he’d been caught kissing an older boy when Wayne came home early from a shift at the plant. The boy ran, and Eddie had locked himself in his room for 15 minutes, furiously packing. When he opened the door to see Wayne leaning against the wall next to the door, unimpressed look on his face, he froze.

“Goin’ somewhere?” he’d asked him.

“You won’t want me to stay now, right?” Eddie had tried to sound confident, emotionless, but he was failing.

“Be a bit hypocritical of me to kick ya out for kissin’ a boy when I’ve got a boyfriend, wouldn’t it?”

Eddie unpacked, and they talked for a bit about Wayne’s boyfriend, Eddie being gay, and how he’d always be safe in Wayne’s house.

Steve had clearly never been given that kind of comfort, maybe hadn’t even had the chance to find that comfort in his own home. Wayne could give that to him.

“You don’t care that I’m, that we-” Steve started, almost immediately getting shushed by Wayne.

“Son, I’ve known Ed’s gay for years and if you think I wasn’t onto you the day you brought him to me half dead, I dunno what to tell ya.”

Eddie was standing to the side, watching quietly. Wayne didn’t need to see his face to know he was grateful.

“Sorry we kinda defiled the kitchen,” Steve finally said as he pulled away.

“Kissin’ ain’t defiling anything.”

Steve blushed again, wiped his eyes as he turned back to where the bacon was probably about to burn.

“No it’s not.”

Wayne paused as he thought about the phrasing of Steve’s response.

He looked over at Eddie, who was conveniently pouring his own cup of coffee. He didn’t even like coffee.

“My one and only rule is that you clean up after…whatever it is you’ve done to defile the shared space,” Wayne smirked. “I’d prefer it stays in the bedroom, though, kay?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve agreed, not making eye contact.

“Got it,” Eddie replied.

Any leftover awkwardness disappeared when Wayne tried to reach directly into the still sizzling pan to grab a piece of bacon, only to be swatted away by Steve.

“You’ll burn yourself!” Steve shook his head. “Now I see where Eddie gets it.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. “I do not reach into still cooking pans! I wait until the food is on a plate before I burn myself!”

“My apologies. You’re just an idiot later,” Steve rolled his eyes, but the fondness in his tone gave away how much he cared about Eddie.

– – – – – –

Wayne started seeing Steve more often, usually wrapped in Eddie’s arms or holding his hand, or watching him play guitar.

He spent the night more often than not, and Wayne sometimes overheard his yelling when he had a nightmare.

Eddie explained to him that they’d gotten better, but he’d probably always have nights where the monsters made an appearance, and unfortunately, getting him out of the nightmare was pretty difficult.

If Wayne was awake already, he usually brought a cup of tea to Eddie’s room and gave them both a quick kiss on the head.

He also made them breakfast most mornings, liked cooking for them, experimenting with new recipes and finding interesting flavor combinations.

After a few months of this, Wayne suggested he look into culinary school.

“There’s a place in Indy, I know one of the chefs there. He’d probably be able to help ya get started,” Wayne said around a bite of his peach pancakes with vanilla syrup.

“I dunno if I can do much besides breakfast and desserts,” Steve shrugged, looking down at his plate. “Plus, Indy’s too far to be driving back and forth every day. I still have to work.”

“Not if you live there. And you could probably work at a restaurant in the evenings.”

Eddie watched them both, unreadable expression on his face.

“Maybe.”

“You know, there’s a few bars there that I could play at. A record shop that probably would hire me,” Eddie chipped in casually, taking a bite of his pancake.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. I mean, we’d need to find somewhere cheap, but we could swing it. I’ve got some money still from the government.”

“Yeah, but-”

Eddie’s fork clinked against his plate when he set it down.

“Stevie. Do you want to try?”

Wayne watched them watch each other, small smile forming as he started to understand their silent conversation.

“Only if it’s with you, baby,” Steve finally said.

“Then we’ll go this weekend to check it out.”

– – – – – – – –

Wayne got to watch them choose each other.

He watched them choose a life outside of Hawkins.

He watched them choose a future where they could have a happiness he could only dream of.

They came to visit often, and invited Wayne to their apartment almost as often.

They even brought him to one of their favorite bars, known for being a safe place for queer people, where he struck up a conversation with one of the bartenders, Larry.

And then he got to choose a life outside of Hawkins too.

One that led to more happiness than he could have pictured for himself.

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - BABYSITTING GONE WRONG

A/N: I have a long chapter for you. Chapter NINE is up. I have put a lot of things in here. I hope you will enjoy it. Please, be patient with chapter ten. I won't have much time to write it next week. I will try, but I'm not promising it will be finished in a few days.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: I have decided to not give any warnings. Please remember this story is 18+.

Summary: Charles asked Logan and Y/N to babysit the students while the rest of the staff was away for the weekend.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.

Words: 6200+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Eight

LOGAN HOWLETT - BABYSITTING GONE WRONG

You killed her! It’s your fault! Murderer! You fucking sick freak! I hate you! 

Y/N opened her eyes and caught her breath. It happened again. This week, it was the third nightmare she experienced. Her mother’s face kept appearing in the dream, screaming at her. The voice, even the eyes, haunted her, filled with wrath and hatred. 

She turned to face the clock. It was 7:04 in the morning. Her forehead was sweaty, as well as the rest of her body. This nightmare was worse than before. It felt real. In her dream, Y/N’s mother held her forearm tightly. Even now, the touch on her body burnt. Y/N had to look at her left forearm just to be sure no one was holding her there. Her mind was playing tricks on her. 

When will you stop haunting me? 

The first week of her being a teacher was almost over. So far, it was fun. The classes went smoothly. The students accepted her as a teacher. It turned out the teaching kept her sane. 

After a quick shower and changing clothes, she took her textbooks and headed downstairs to the kitchen. The hallways were empty. However, she could hear the kids from their dorms getting ready. 

When she arrived in the kitchen, she was met with fresh coffee. Some pure soul made a pot of it. She grabbed a mug and poured some into it. This was an ideal way to start a new day. She took a seat on a barstool at the counter. Y/N went through the textbooks to prepare for her first lesson of the day. 

“Well, aren’t ya an early bird,” Logan’s voice startled her. 

Y/N almost choked on her coffee. She coughed a few times, then looked at the man. “If you want to choke me, just use your hand,” she frowned at him. It took her a minute to breathe normally. 

Logan’s lips turned into a devilish smile. “Is that right, princess?” and he wiggled his eyebrows. “Good to know for the future. By the way, why are you up so early? Don’t you have a class at nine?” he changed the topic. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” she looked down at the textbooks again. 

Logan walked to the counter and leaned against it. He took a deep breath. He could smell the coconut shampoo radiating from her, even her natural scent. “I heard you, you know? I know you have nightmares, Y/N.” 

“Don’t we all?” she sighed. “It’s nothing. It’ll go away.” 

“You can talk to me, you know?” Logan reached his hand and put it under her chin to lift her head. “You don’t have to face it alone.” 

“Thanks,” her eyes found his. 

Logan heard the sound of the wheelchair. He let go of Y/N’s chin and leaned back. His eyes never left her face, not even when Charles wheeled in, already dressed in a suit. This time, it was grey with a black tie.

“Ah, just the two people I need,” he said, smiling. “I am going to need a favour from you two.” Y/N’s eyes moved to the Professor, and Logan faced him. “As you know, Jean and Scott are still away with Remy and Hank. Bobby asked for a weekend away with Kitty. Kurt is leaving for Germany. I will take Peter, Ororo and Rogue to Washington again.”

“More trouble?” Y/N asked. 

Charles shook his head. “The situation has calmed down a bit. However, I need to find more information about Trask Industries. I believe they are creating a weapon that could potentially destroy us.”  

“Shit,” Logan mumbled. 

“That is why I need you to stay here,” said Charles.

“Ah, you want us to babysit, is that right?” Logan rolled his eyes. “What about Colossus?” 

“He’ll be here with you, of course. I talked to him last night.”  

“When are you leaving?” Y/N asked. 

“This afternoon. We should be back on Sunday.” 

Charles left them alone in the kitchen. Logan turned back to Y/N and raised one brow. “It seems you won’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“I am one lucky gal,” she teased. “So, is this babysitting like it means? We will keep an eye on the kids. We make sure they are in bed at a reasonable hour?” 

“Sounds about right,” Logan nodded. “Don’t plan on having a big party tonight.”

She tilted her head. “Why? You don’t like watching children have some fun? Or is it because my attention is on them, not you?” She stood up and cleaned the mug after she was done. Before she left, she brushed past him. “If you want my attention, just ask.” 

Logan smirked, eyes resting on her back. Slowly, they fell down, checking out her ass per usual. Who would have thought that he would be crushing bad on this woman? He saved her a while back, and now, they had this unspoken thing between them. She was attractive and witty. Y/N brought something into his life. She made him feel something he hadn’t felt in years. 

Fuck, he thought and fixed his pants. Suddenly, they felt tighter than before. It was eight in the morning. It was bad timing to have an erection. Logan swiftly left the kitchen and headed back to his room. 

As the day went by, Y/N realised her mind had been preoccupied by a certain someone. The desire that she had was intense. She kept thinking about his eyes, lips, and those hands caressing her body. In a way, it was funny. She was falling for the man who saved her ass. 

My knight in shining armour.

“Miss Y/L/N?” someone said her name. “Are you okay?” It was one of the students asking. 

Y/N blinked a few times. Her mind got quickly lost in a world of daydreaming. “I’m sorry,” she cleared her throat. “I was just thinking about your next assignment,” she said. The collective sigh made her laugh. “Don’t worry. I won’t give you any writing assignments now. However, I want you to read The Great Gatsby by the end of the next week.” 

Some of the boys were annoyed. It was evident that reading was not their favourite activity. There were whispers around the classroom. Y/N frowned at them. “Please, silence. I don’t want to hear another word. You are only reading a book. If you keep complaining to your classmates, I will give you something to write about.” And then everyone silenced. 

The classes with the oldest students were difficult. Their hormones were all over the place, their behaviour was atrocious, and the boys had a problem respecting everyone, even the teacher.

At the end of the school day, Y/N was walking through the hallway when a clothed arm wrapped around her shoulder. It brought her back to reality from her constant daydreaming. She glanced at the person, only to find Rogue grinning. “I’ve heard you and Logan will be babysitting the kids.” 

“With Colossus,” Y/N added. 

“That’s a minor detail,” she chuckled. “You have the perfect opportunity to make a move. You’ll have the night to yourselves.” 

Y/N frowned. “What the hell are you talking about, Ro’?” Y/N knew damn well where she was going with it. And yet she pretended to be dumb. 

“Come on,” Rogue bumped her hip against Y/N’s. “I see how you two behave to each other. Everyone sees that - the teasing, the bantering and shit. In my eyes, you’d be a perfect power couple. I think you should make a move.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. Yes, Logan and Y/N had a playful banter going on. However, she didn’t think he felt anything more towards her. He saved her and gave her a second chance. He kept his promise. That was about it. A man like him would never want a girl like her. They knew each other only for two months. 

“Shouldn’t you be packing for the weekend?” Y/N asked Rogue. She needed to change the topic. “You should take something sexy with you. You’ll be reunited with Remy. You’ll be the one spending a hot, sexy night with your man.” 

The young woman sighed, defeated. “Why can’t you see that he likes you, too?” She had decided to omit that part about Remy.

“Rogue,” Y/N warned her. “I don’t want to talk about it. In fact, there is nothing to talk about. You should pack and get ready.” 

“This isn’t over. We will discuss this once I’m back,” Rogue threatened with a finger. 

Y/N walked up the stairs. She wanted to change her clothes into something more comfortable. The school day was over. There was no need to dress fancy. She thought about practising her forcefields. Y/N got better at creating two separate force fields at the same time. After they saved JJ, where she protected another person for the first time, she knew how to do it whenever she wanted. 

Storm usually practised with her. They tried using lighting to get through the force fields. Luckily, they were resistant. It didn’t even drain Y/N’s energy. It was fascinating.  

Y/N stretched her neck and scratched her nape. There was a foreign feeling lingering somewhere inside her mind. She couldn’t define what it was.

As she passed the second level, she was stopped by Logan again. He grabbed her by the wrist. “We meet again, princess.” 

She made a funny yet annoyed face. “For a princess, you aren’t treating me like one,” she said. “How can I help you, kind sir?” 

“Wanna have a beer with me tonight?” he asked. 

“Aren’t we supposed to be babysitting the kids?” she raised a brow, smirking. “We can’t leave the school and head to the bar. Colossus will kill us.” 

“Rules are meant to be broken,” he made a smug face. “Don’t worry, kid. I have my secret stash here. We can enjoy one after they are in their rooms, asleep.” 

“Secret stash, you say?” That piqued her interest. “Very well. I’ll see you tonight.” 

His eyes followed her as she continued up the stairs. “What are you up to now?” 

She shrugged, thinking. “I don’t know. I might do some training, maybe read a book,” she said. “I’ll see you later, Logan.” 

. . .

Y/N was on edge the whole evening. She didn’t know why. The feeling came gradually. At first, she thought she had forgotten to do something. Then, she observed the students, trying to figure out if they did something wrong. Y/N concluded that the feeling she had signified cautiousness. Otherwise, the time she had spent with the kids was fun. 

They all gathered in a lounge room where they talked and laughed. Colossus joined them. He listened to their stories and amusing memories. Colossus even chimed in about his memories. The kids laughed, which only made him smile. 

Logan kept his distance and observed from afar here and there. He didn’t join the talk, even when he noticed Y/N’s pleading look. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while listening to the shared stories. 

Overall, it was a pleasant Friday evening with the students. By ten in the evening, they were all in their rooms. Y/N walked through the hallways, checking if everyone settled down for the night. Even Colossus headed to bed, saying how exhausted he was. 

Once Y/N was sure everyone was in their room, she headed downstairs into the kitchen. Her neck was sore after the long day. She stretched her head to every side, trying to find relief. When Y/N entered the kitchen, Logan sat behind a counter with two beer bottles. He was wearing a red flannel shirt and a white tank top. 

That fucker. 

The man eyed her from head to toe, trying not to stare much. Did she want to kill him with that outfit? She wore denim shorts and a loose T-shirt. “Fucking finally,” said Logan after he cleared his throat. “Were you avoiding me, princess?” he kinked a brow. 

“You think so low of me,” she said and sat on a barstool next to him. “Because you had decided to disappear and Colossus was tired, I had to ensure the students were in their rooms.” She grabbed a bottle. It was cold. Quickly, she pressed it against her neck and moaned a little. 

“You okay?” he asked, taking a swig. 

“I don’t know,” she said. “Something feels off. Also, my neck hurts.” She drank straight from the bottle, enjoying the cold beverage.  

Without thinking, Logan reached for her neck. His fingers pressed into her skin. When he realised what he had done, it was too late. Luckily, Y/N closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. If she were a cat, she’d purr. Her lips were slightly parted. She enjoyed the touch. Once he was done, he asked, “Better?” 

“Damn, I’d hire you as a full-time personal masseuse,” she joked. When she looked at him, her eyes met his. A shiver ran down her spine. “Tell me, what do you do when you are asked to babysit the students?” 

“Before you came, I’d have a drink and head to bed. When Bobby was a student, there were nights when we would talk here in the kitchen. The kids here know what they aren’t allowed to do. When we ask them to remain in rooms, they will listen,” he explained. 

A tiny smile appeared on Y/N’s face. Her eyes moved to the beer bottle, where she scanned the label. “By the way, JJ loves lessons with you,” she changed the topic. “He loves history and says you are awesome.” 

“He said that?” Logan seem surprised. “I like that kid.” 

Y/N pressed two fingers between the bridge of her nose, frowning. A long sigh escaped her lips. “Shit, I can’t figure out what’s wrong today.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Ah,” she leaned against her arms, eyes closed. “Do you have that feeling, somewhere deep inside, when you know that something’s not right?” When Logan confirmed, she continued. “I have had this feeling since this afternoon. My gut is calling to me, screaming something is off.” 

“Is it the students? Have they said anything?” he asked. Logan wanted to help her figure it out. 

She turned her head to look at him again. For a second, her eyes slipped to his lips. “I have crossed out every box in my head,” Y/N’s eyes were back on his. “The students are well. Jerome is happy,” she started to list it all out loud. “I have done everything that was required of me. I don’t know.” 

“I think you are exhausted after this week. You’ve become a teacher. It might have taken a toll on you.” Logan’s voice was softer than usual. “Maybe it is rest that you need.” 

“Maybe,” she said. Once she finished the drink, she stood up and walked to the kitchen counter. “I feel some exhaustion,” Y/N admitted. “I’m not convinced that’s it.” She reached for a glass and filled it with cold water. She faced the man and leaned against the counter when she drank the water. “I feel like something terrible is about to happen,” Y/N admitted. 

Logan was immediately on his feet. He walked to Y/N, scanning her face. “What if you are overly anxious?” he asked carefully. “I believe you need to go to bed and rest. You had an intense week.” 

“What if,” she said suddenly, “something’s heading towards us?” 

His ears perked up at her comment. With a snap of fingers, Logan’s face hardened. “You think something dangerous could be coming our way?” He came closer to the woman, feeling her body heat radiating. 

“Think about it,” Y/N’s eyes locked with his. “Charles took everyone to Washington. At this time, they are all already there. It would take them longer to get back here. It’s just the two of us and Colossus. What if…” she stopped talking. 

A chill ran down Logan’s spine. The thought of them becoming targets again made him tense. In the past, he experienced attacks on school. It wouldn’t be anything new. And yet, it was terrifying. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t want to think negatively and draw something to us. Or I’m just being paranoid.” 

Logan smiled at her reassuringly. He put a hand on her left shoulder. “We’ll be alright. The school has a security system. Once it is triggered, the students know what to do and where to hide. If some sort of attack does occur, we will fight. Until then, let’s try not to worry about these hypothetical scenarios.” 

“You are right,” she sighed for the hundredth time. “My mind is running thousands of miles an hour. Nothing’s going to happen. Let’s just enjoy this evening.” 

A smile appeared on her face. Y/N wanted to say something more, but her mind went blank when she felt Logan’s hand move from her shoulder to her cheek, stroking it gently. His body was closer than usual. For a second, Y/N forgot how to breathe. There was a shift in the air. His gentle touch made her heat rise in her body. She was taken aback by it at all. 

Logan’s touch was tender. His thumb kept stroking her skin lightly. The desire was rising on both sides. Neither of them tried to push away. There was something unspoken between them. It was there for some time. Maybe it was the right time to lean into it and explore.

Y/N thought that he would never feel the same way she did. In her mind, Logan saw her as someone he saved some time ago. But this showed her that he felt the same way. Her breath got caught in her throat. The air vibrated with an intensity of desire. The unspoken words between them became heavier. 

Logan took a step forward. His body pressed lightly against her. His other hand found her waist, where he placed it lightly. It felt right. For some time, this was what he wanted, and now, he was only one move away from getting it.

“Logan,” she whispered, eyes never leaving his face. They moved from his eyes to his lips and back. 

“Y/N,” he whispered back. Her name sounded so beautiful coming from his lips. 

They were a breath away from each other. Neither of them were able to close the gap. It took them a few heartbeats before they both leaned it. This was the sign that they both wanted the same thing. 

They met in the middle, lips pressing in their first kiss. There was no time to test the water. The first kiss was heated - all tongue and teeth. The passion ignited with a fiery intensity. Logan’s body fully pressed against Y/N’s. She could feel his semi-hard erection pressed against her lower belly. 

Logan’s hands explored her body. One hand held her by the neck while the other travelled down to her ass that he squeezed. It made her groan into his mouth, which gave him better access to his tongue to explore her mouth. Y/N’s hands were pressed against his hard chest, gripping the white tank top. 

Suddenly, he grabbed he by the waist and lifted her on the kitchen counter. Logan stepped between her legs, and she instantly wrapped them around his waist. The kiss never ended. They wanted more. Y/N’s hand gripped his hair and pulled on it, making him moan. Her other hands explored his chest and firm abs over that damn piece of clothing. 

They lost themselves in a world of desire. Logan’s mouth left her lips only to explore her neck and collarbones. He couldn’t get enough of her. His right hand slipped under her t-shirt. The feeling of her soft skin was incredible. His fingers caressed the flesh under her breast. 

“Fuck, princess,” he grunted when he caught a breath for a second. His lips were then back on her in another heated make-out session. 

Y/N grabbed his unbuttoned flannel shirt and took it off him. It fell on the floor under his feet. Her mind was filled with his musky scent. She could smell the beer and a faint hint of cigars. However, it only made her want him more. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” he asked with a laugh when he managed to pull away to look at her face. Her lips were a bit swollen from all the kissing.

“You are the one talking,” she said back. “If we want to continue this, I don’t think it’s wise to do it in the kitchen,” she raised a brow. “We don’t need a traumatised kid on our necks.”

Logan laughed at that. And then, his lips were on her again. This time, the kisses got softer. He took his time with each one he pressed against her lips. Their eyes closed. These kisses were different. They were filled with something new. It wasn’t hunger or desire. It was more intimate. As if they tried to tell they cared for each other. 

Y/N’s fingers reached for his big belt. She started to fiddle with it when he stopped her. She raised a brow. Did she cross a line?

The kissing stopped. Logan turned his head to the side and listened. His ears could register sounds that a regular person wouldn’t hear, not even Y/N. His hand gripped her exposed thigh, and he looked into her gorgeous eyes. “Fuck. Helicopters,” he said. 

“What?” she raised her voice, concerned. She turned her head to the window, trying to hear for herself. They were far away.

Logan pushed away from her and walked to the other side of the kitchen. Y/N’s gut warned them. “They knew we’d be here alone this night,” he mumbled under his nose. “It’s a trap!” He pressed a button that was hidden in a strategic place. It was a silent trigger. “Charles built a trigger system in every dorm. This will ensure everyone wakes up and heads to the tunnels.” 

Y/N hopped off the counter. She wanted to ask about it, but there was no time. Logan reached for her hand, which she grabbed, and they left the kitchen running. “Oh no. My gut was right about this,” she groaned. “I called this upon us.” 

When they arrived in the main hallway, they heard the students from the upper levels running around the hallways. Colossus’s deep voice was heard, too. He was giving the instructions to the students.

“There are strategic tunnels that will lead them out of the school and into a secure location,” Logan explained.

Y/N’s heart was beating fast. Finally, she registered the sounds of helicopters nearing the school. She squeezed his hand tightly one more time before letting it go. “So we fight,” she sighed. 

“We fight,” he nodded. “There’s no time to run.” 

They heard the sound of shattering glass. Someone breached in through the windows. Several footsteps were heard around the building. Soldiers. Logan and Y/N shared a look before they separated. 

Logan’s claws were out, ready to kill anyone who dared to approach him. He could heal, and Y/N could protect herself with forcefields. However, he hated they separated. The evening started promising, and it was ruined by some fuckers who had the desire to attack the school. 

Y/N ran outside the main entrance before soldiers could tear down the door. She formed a forcefield around herself to protect her body. She felt how her energy shifted. The shield she had created felt different. When she collided with the first body, the soldier screamed in agonising pain, and he flew away. All the bullets fired at her were absorbed into it. 

When she looked out, she realised at least six military helicopters had flown to the school, filled with soldiers. What the fuck was happening? While she kept herself hidden inside the force field, she created a ball that she threw at a group of soldiers, hurting them. 

Y/N’s eyes noticed the symbol on the helicopters. Trask. Holy mother of god! They wanted mutants, and this was the perfect place to get them. More gunshots were heard from the inside of the school, with Logan’s roaring. She could only imagine the bloodbath happening inside. It was amusing how the evening went from passionate kissing to fighting for their lives. 

More soldiers tried to take her down. Y/N was faster, and the shield got powerful with more determination to finish this. As if it wasn’t enough, it started to rain heavily. No wonder it was a week before Halloween, and autumn was in full mode. 

She didn’t mind the water or the cold air. Her adrenaline kept her warm. More soldiers surrounded her, aiming their guns at her. Y/N kept herself protected with her power, not giving them a window to shoot. It sucked. There were only two of them and dozens of soldiers. 

For a moment, Y/N thought that they would be able to defeat them. But the moment Logan’s painful roaring came from her side, her heart dropped to the ground. At least seven soldiers had him restrained with a collar around his neck. They even put him on a leash so he wouldn’t escape. That damn collar. It took away his power. 

“No,” she gasped. 

“Halt!” someone shouted. All soldiers ceased fire, yet the guns remained ready to shoot. 

The men who captured Logn had brought him down on his knees. The rain soaked through his clothes and hair, and there was a bloody wound on his right shoulder. It wasn’t healing.  

A laugh got her attention. It sounded so familiar that it brought goosebumps to Y/N’s skin. Her eyes widened in shock. The woman turned her head to the voice. She forgot how to breathe. 

“Look who’s crossed my path again,” said the female voice. 

This voice haunted Y/N in her nightmares. She dryly gulped, eyes never leaving the person who approached the front line. “Mother.” 

Logan gasped when he heard Y/N say that. “What the fuck?” he gasped for air. The woman in charge was Y/N’s own mother? What a sick, twisted joke!

The leader of this group was an older woman in her late fifties. She had grey hair pinned in a low bun. She was dressed in a military outfit with a raincoat over it. It protected her uniform from the rain. Why the fuck was she dressed like a soldier? What the fuck was going on? 

Y/N’s head was screaming questions. She was shocked. She forgot to keep herself behind the protective veil. It suddenly disappeared, making her vulnerable. It was painful to see her mother standing with the company that wanted to get rid of mutants. Y/N killed her little sister, the youngest daughter. Of course, her mother would desire to see all mutants burn in hell. 

“Why the fuck are you here?” Y/N spat.

The woman grinned. “I came here to collect you and bring you back to where you belong - the lab.” Her voice was strict. When Y/N made a confused and disgusted face, her mother continued. “Don’t act surprised. I know everything about you. I know what happened to you when you escaped the lab in Salem.” 

“What?” Y/N lowered her voice, confused. How was it possible?

The woman’s eyes moved to Logan. She laughed like a devil. “And we got the animal as well.”

Y/N’s fists clenched. “He’s not an animal,” she growled. “How the fuck do you know everything?” 

“You think I’d let the murderer that killed my baby get away from me? Oh, honey, don’t be naive,” she said darkly. “I had my eyes on you since I joined Trask Industries and discovered that you became a lab rat.” 

Logan was fuming. He tried to pull on the restraints to get away and run to Y/N. Hell, he would kill for her. That only got him a punishment. They pressed a stick to his side, sending shockwaves to his body. He screamed in pain and fell to the ground. Without his healing ability, he was vulnerable. 

“If you are wondering how I know you’d be here, it’s simple,” Y/N’s mother sang. “I knew you’d get the boy. The scientists in the lab informed me that you got attached to him. Disgusting, considering you like killing children. With that knowledge, we knew you’d try to save him. I must admit, for a moment, we lost faith that you’d show up. We were about to get the boy back to our main facility when you decided to rescue him with that thing,” she pointed at Logan. 

Y/N shook her head in disbelief. “No, it doesn’t make sense. How…?” 

“We have eyes everywhere,” the woman said. “I’d do everything to get the child murderer back where she belongs. In a cage, slowly torturing her to death. That is what you deserve.”

“It was an accident,” Y/N’s voice broke. Her insides were shaking. “I’d never hurt her on purpose. She was my sister.”

The older woman scoffed. “Do not speak of her! Don’t you dare talk about my baby girl! Murder is not an accident. I thought that after all these years, you’d be dead - that the experiments would kill you. And here you are, alive at this damn school for mutants. It’s disgusting.” 

Y/N’s nerves were on the verge of exploding. The force fields glitched around her a few times. “You are the disgusting one. You come here to threaten us. Tell me why you are here. What do you want?” Her whole body was shivering. It was the mixture of cold and emotions bubbling inside. The rain didn’t stop. It got heavier. 

“I came here for you, to take you where you belong. I want the little mutants for our experiments to create a weapon that would annihilate you.” The woman’s head snapped to a few soldiers that came out of the building. She frowned at them. They came out empty-handed. “Where are the mutants?” she hissed. 

One soldier saluted. “They are all gone. The school’s empty,” he announced. 

“Shit,” she cursed. “What do you mean gone?” 

“They must have escaped.” 

Y/N exhaled, glad that the children were with Colossus somewhere safe. Now, she needed to ensure Logan would get out of the collar. 

Y/N’s mother rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by the outcome. She had to think about something else. That’s why Y/N had made a decision in her head for her. “Take me and leave him,” she pointed at Logan. “You want me. You can have me.” 

“No!” Logan protested on the wet, muddy ground. Another stick got pressed to his body, and he got zapped again. 

“Oh, honey, that’s not how this works,” she tsked. “You’ll both come with me. I don’t care if you are alive or not. Your body is coming with me back to the lab.” 

There was a radiating energy flowing through Y/N’s body. It was new, unfamiliar. But it felt good. Her left hand flew up where Logan was held. She put a protective veil around him. It then expanded, making all soldiers fly away from his wounded body. They screamed in excruciating pain. Afterwards, the force field never disappeared. 

There was a sound of a gunshot, followed by a stinging pain in her right shoulder. She gasped, cursing loudly. Y/N forgot to protect herself. Her eyes fell down to the wound, seeing a lot of blood. That’s when she noticed a blue and silver hue around the gash. It helped to close the bleeding. That never happened before. Did her mutation evolve? 

Three deep breaths. Three exhales. Y/N’s left hand fell, yet the force field remained around Logan. She kept it on with her mind. Her eyes drifted to her mother. She raised both hands up as a sign of giving up. 

“Drop the shield,” her mother called. 

“No,” she spat back. “You can have me, not Logan. He’ll stay protected until my last breath.” 

“Cuff her!” her mother gave a barking order. 

That’s what Y/N was waiting for. Her ears tried to focus on the other sounds. It was difficult with the pouring rain. The clinging sound of handcuffs and that damn collar was closer to her ear. If they wanted a fight, she would give them one. She used everything she had learnt and decided to use those skills to defend herself. 

The second a man got closer, she punched him straight in the nose with her elbow. She turned around, bringing his head down to hit his face with her knee. Once more shooting started, she created a force field to protect her. Again, all she needed was to use her mind. 

Y/N reached for a shotgun the soldier had. Instead of shooting another man, she smashed him with the gun, using all her power, into his head. He spun in the air and landed face-first in the muddy grass. While being preoccupied with several more soldiers, Logan’s body was still protected. 

He watched her from afar, breathing heavily. He never saw her kick ass like this. Was it inappropriate of him to think it was hot? As much as he wanted to help, all he could do was watch. He lost his ability to take out his claws and to heal. There was nothing he could do now. His eyes glanced at the beautiful force field surrounding his body. This happened to him for the first time. It was mesmerising.

“Blow this place up!” The woman in charge shouted at her men. It seemed she gave up on taking Y/N or Logan with them. She turned on her heel while more soldiers tried to take down Y/N. 

During Y/N’s inattention, when she was focused more on snapping a man’s neck, the shield glitched, and she got shot again. “Fuck!” she screamed. This time, the wound got through her abdomen. It stung for a few seconds until the pain faded away. There was crimson red blood on her T-shirt. 

“Y/N!” Logan screamed her name when he saw the bullet get her. His stopped beating for a moment. 

“Retreat! Retreat!” the soldiers shouted. 

Logan watched as they went back into the helicopters. Some men were lying around, dead. Y/N just got the last soldier who was on her neck. She broke his arms, grabbed his gun and shot him in the head. “Shit,” Logan gasped when he saw that. He never would have expected to see her kill someone like that. Logan managed to sit up and slowly got rid of the handcuffs. He wanted to take down the collar. He fiddled with it, pulling on it. Nothing happened. 

Y/N tried to catch her breath after the fight was done. She turned around to see the helicopters up in the air. “You fucking bitch!” she shouted angrily at her mother. “One day, I will get you and kill you with my bare hands!” The nerves got the best of her. Afterwards, she fell on her knees, tired. The veil around Logan disappeared.

Her whole body was wet. The rain never stopped. She blinked a few times, trying to regain control of her body. When she raised her eyes up, she found one helicopter in the air, facing the school. Her stomach dropped. Blow this place up. 

Two missiles were shot directly at the school. Y/N’s mother gave the order to destroy a place that Y/N started to call home. It was a sanctuary, a second chance for young mutants. Only a monster would want to take that away from them. Then and there, she knew what she had to do. 

With all the energy inside of her, she raised her arms in the air and created the largest force field ever. It spread around her, Logan and stretched up in the air, surrounding the entire complex. It looked like northern lights if they were silver and blue. When the missiles hit the shield, they blew up with such intensity Y/N started to scream from the top of her lungs. She could feel it all. The explosion was massive. The ground underneath her feet shook. 

Blood started to drip out of her nose. It covered her T-shirt and dripped on the grass. She held the shield up until the fire from the explosion eased. Y/N’s started to spin. There was some last energy streaming through her veins. She pushed the force field forward. It hit the closest helicopters, and they got destroyed in the air. More explosions followed. 

It was over. The protective veil disappeared. The school was saved, soldiers were killed, but her mother got away. 

Y/N’s body fell on the wet grass like a rag doll. The blood never stopped coming out of her nose. She drained all her energy. The last thing she saw was the dark sky above her head.

“Y/N!” Logan shouted. “Y/N!” His legs brought her to her unconscious body. He got on his knees and brought her into his arms. He stroked her face with his fingers, observing the blood-covered lips, chin and T-shirt. 

Did he lose her? Was she dead? When he pressed two fingers on her neck where there was a pulse point, he couldn’t feel any. Logan started to panic. “No, no, no,” he repeated, eyes filling his tears. “Come on, princess. Don’t die on me,” he growled. “We have some unfinished business.” And then he felt it. There was a pulse. Her heart was still beating. 

The rain calmed down. The air got colder. Logan remained with Y/N on the grass. His eyes found the bloody spots - one was on her shoulder, the other on the abdomen. His fingers caressed the place on the shoulder. He was shocked to see no wound. How was it possible? There was blood around it.

His eyes noticed a weird movement on her body. He saw her veins radiating as her force field would. No, it was not the veins. It was her skin, glowing. A silver and blueish hue was sparkling around her body. “What the fuck?” he whispered. 

He remembered when he saw her irises change colour. The natural colour was gone. It changed to a silvery one. The same was happening on her skin.

Logan got Y/N into his arms, holding her bridal style. He walked with her into the school, where he could provide her warmth. Also, he would call the rest of the X-men for help. He had to believe Charles already knew what had happened. 

Her gut was warning her. It screamed something was off. And it was right. What Logan didn’t expect to meet Y/N’s fucked up mother, who worked for Trask Industries. They couldn’t predict an attack on the school.

Logan put Y/N’s body on the nearest sofa in the lounge room and sat on the floor. The bleeding wound on his body was painful. He wanted to clean it and patch himself. However, he couldn’t leave her side. Stupid collar. With it on his neck, he wasn’t able to heal.