#How can you think about this for longer than two seconds - let alone watch it play out on screen

[b-rainlet]

'Swing Kids fails at showing how cruel the nazis truly were'

This is a movie about german children who weren't inherently in danger by virtue of being 'the right race' whose only 'wrong-doings' were listening to the wrong kind of music and still they were constantly threatened and beat up, were forced to join the HJ to not endanger their families, one of them had his hand hurt so badly by a nazi he couldn't use two of his fingers anymore and had to teach himself to play guitar three-fingered, they were used to gather information for the Gestapo to the point the mc distrusted his best friend, they witnessed beatings and deportations and the shooting of a man on the run, the movie quite literally ends with the teenage main character being sent to what's most likely a concentration camp for dancing to the wrong music

[actual-changeling]

we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).

there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.

we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.

then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.

now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.

i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.

that's exactly what he does.

he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".

glasses? on

emotions? off

hotel? trivago

i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.

by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:

aziraphale notices.

they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.

look.

he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.

aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).

the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.

can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?

because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.

anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3

oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.

and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?

easy answer: no.

alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Part 2.

Pairing: Dom!Bucky x Sub!female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level. The reveal!

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, unprotected sexual intercourse (p in v), don't forget no glove no love, edging, asphyxiation, fingering, mild dirty talk, language, praise kink, masked man kink, stalking, harassment, implied harm, breaking in.

Word Count: 5.4

A/Ns: Hi babes! Sorry this took an extra day than intended. Tumblr is being super finicky tonight, I’ve edited and re-edited this so many times. If there’s mistakes just ignore. I hope you like the conclusion!

In case you missed it, Part 1

You didn’t sleep much the next couple of nights, and decided to take some time off of work. Bucky finally reached out, and you updated him as to what was going on. He immediately offered to come home, which you refused and started to downplay the situation.

Hailee has been great with letting you borrow some clothes and little things, since you only grabbed a small bag in a rush before heading to her place to stay a few days ago. You’ve been dreading going back to the apartment, scared to find someone in there waiting for you. But it’s at the point where you need to grab some of your stuff.

Walking into the apartment, it was eerily quiet and uncomfortable. But nothing looked out of place, and was exactly how you left it. Deciding not to spend any longer there than you had to, you promptly tossed a large duffle bag onto your bed and started stuffing it with clothes and any other necessities.

Zipping the duffle closed, you felt a light gust of cool air. Scanning your bedroom window assuming it was the source, you realize it’s open. You never open this window. In fact, it’s always locked. All of the hair on the top layer of your skin stands up to the extent it almost feels like tiny pinpricks. Flight mode is instantly activated; before you can even think, you grab the bag and run, practically tripping over your own feet out of the room.

Grappling with the door knob, the pure panic starts to set in. Just as you’re twisting the knob open, you hear a distant bang coming from another room in the apartment. You freeze at the realization:

I’m not alone.

You know when you’re watching a scary movie and yell at the tv, wondering why the one of the characters was so fucking stupid to do something?

Well, you did exactly that. What possessed you in that moment, you haven’t the faintest idea. But, with your heartbeat pounding in your ears so loudly that you thought your eardrums might rupture, you started to turn around to look.

What primitively catches your attention isn’t what you expected, but quickly makes your chest tighten. The fruit bowl on the kitchen counter that is normally overflowing with lucious, red delicious apples, now just has all apple cores.

The flashback of one being on left on the countertop after Bucky had left blazes in your mind. It suddenly makes sense. Bucky would never leave a mess and it wasn't long after that you saw someone outside your window.

Attempting to swallow the growing dryness in your throat, you continue to turn around. And that's when you see him for the first time. About fifteen feet away, stood an obviously immensely tall man. He wore thick, black shiny leather boots that gleamed lightly in the natural daylight within the apartment. Fitted black jeans with a loose, black hooded sweatshirt that failed to hide how muscular and broad his chest and shoulders were with the hood pulled up.

But two things stuck out the most about his appearance. First, was the tight, black leather gloves he wore on his hands that were currently clenched into rigid fists. The second, was the fact that you couldn't make out his face. All you could see was an elongated paleness, caverned by the blackness of the hood, and it seemed... sinister. He didn't move or make a sound. It was as if you would blink and he would be gone, like a cloud of smoke.

But if anyone was going to disappear, it was going to be you. So taking a chance, you ran. And you didn't stop running. Even with the faint vibration in your pocket alerting you to the new text notification on your phone, you kept going.

It wasn't until you got back to Hailee's place and frantically, out of breath explained to her, that you even remembered about the text message.

"Here," You toss the phone in pure detestation onto her bed, "I don't even want to fucking know what it says." You lean against the opposite wall of her bedroom, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to control the body shakes as you come down from the adrenaline.

Hailee watches you for a brief moment, still not having said much aside from asking if you were okay. Her expression was soft and sympathetic and yet had an dissenting undertone. You couldn't blame her, this all sounded absolutely insane.

Letting out a small, exasperated breath, Hailee sits on her knees from her previous crossed legged position and grabs your cell. As the screen comes to life, her teeth clench down reading whatever is on the screen.

“What?” The concern is evident in your voice as you pry away from the wall, though still holding onto yourself.

Hailee inhales deeply through her nostrils, faking a tightlipped smile, “it’s nothing,” her tone is flat. She’s lying. Clicking the sleep button on the side of the phone to make the screen go black, she makes her way off the bed, “hey, how about we head down to the cellphone store and get you a new phone and number?” She asks, trying to sound like her usual carefree self as she grabbed her crossbody bag.

“Hailee,” you uncross your arms and step in front of her, forcing her to make eye contact, “what is it?”

Searching your eyes, you can see that she is torn. She wants so badly to do the right thing, but isn’t sure what exactly that is in this situation. On one hand, she could just keep it to herself. Let the unknown and curiosity eat you alive from the inside out like it inevitably will. But only because she wants to protect you, shield you from anything that brings you the opposite of joy. Or, she can show you what you’re actually dealing with, and the two of you can come up with a plan and handle it together. Hailee decides on the latter.

Hesitating, her hand shakes slightly as she holds out the phone to you. It appears that now both of you will take this predicament more critically now. Grabbing the phone a tad more aggressively then you meant to, you unlock it and open the messages. But it's not often Hailee gets rendered quiet. Scrolling through the back to back texts, you understand why.

Taking your best friends advice, you immediately went to the cell phone store. She tagged along as you got a completely new phone and number, not transferring anything over, not wanting to take the risk. You didn't download any social media, deciding to take a much needed mental break for a bit. The only thing you did do, was take a few phone numbers that you needed out of your old phone, and even then you wrote them down on a piece of paper to manually add them into your contacts later.

Walking out of the store, you felt as if a weight had been lifted. Hailee locked arms with you, leading you around the corner to the nearest cafe to get iced coffee. It was her answer for everything. Bad day? Iced coffee. Need a pick me up? Iced coffee. Need to clear your head and just ramble about random shit for a bit? Iced coffee. Your best friend has an apparent stalker and we're hoping that changing phone numbers is the end all solution?! Obviously, iced coffee.

Sitting at a small table outside the cafe, enjoying the slight crispness in the fall air, you let out a huge, relieving sigh that makes your shoulders sink. You take the opportunity to add Bucky to your contacts and text him your new number. Although, you decide not to go into detail about your most recent encounter while he's still away on a mission.

Putting the phone down on the table and not have it incessantly go off with calls and texts, let's you feel as though you can finally breathe. "Thank you for coming with me, Hales, I really appreciate you."

Hailee is sucking the remnants of her drink through the straw as she looks up at you. She gives you a small, genuine side smile, "you're welcome," before smirking, "so I'm supposed to have a date tonight, with that guy Noah I've been seeing..." she leaves it open ended. "But, I should totally cancel after everythi-"

"No, please. Go out and have fun. You've been dealing with my shit enough," trying to make your words sound affirming, even with the lingering dread that you still felt.

That's one thing about Hailee. You never quite really have to twist her arm to do anything.

After showering and changing into your comfy jeans and oversized cropped sweater, it was hard not to feel the slightest tinge of jealousy watching Hailee do her finishing touches for date night in the mirror. Jealousy in the sense of missing Bucky and going out and having a carefree night, not in comparing yourself physically.

She swipes yet another layer of clear lip gloss on before fluffing her beach wave blonde hair. Turning to face you, her thick heels clack on the wooden floor as she starts adjusting her boobs in her sleek, dusty rose colored dress.

"What do you think?" Her hands glide down over her curves, "Dress is okay?"

"That dress is fire," and it is, she looks amazing. By the smile she's wearing, she's feeling it too, "too bad it's going to end up on Noah's floor ten minutes into your date." Hailee dramatically gasps, as if that's not true. It totally is.

You're both laughing until she abruptly stops, "I have to go!" She gives you a quick hug and starts scurrying towards the door, a bit awkwardly in the heels, "Bye! Love you! Lock the door!" As she goes to close the door behind her she yells back in, "don't read too much smut on your kindle while I'm gone!" and the door slams.

Shaking your head with a small laugh, you lock the door. Hailee just gave you the perfect idea of how to spend your night.

About an hour had gone by, you comfortably laid in Hailee's spare bed, a few chapters deep into your latest book. It was quiet, so when your phone vibrated on the bed next to you- you jumped slightly. Assuming it was Bucky finally having the chance to text you back, you pick it up fairly quickly. But the message you received isn't what you expected at all.

Before even unlocking the phone, you had a text alert from Unknown. There was nothing written, but all the way to the right of the alert, you could see a picture was included.

Promptly, you sat up in the bed and stared at the notification. That familiar wave of unease dispersed throughout your body as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head.

This phone number is only a few hours old, how the fuck did he get it already?

The notification banner and you were in a staredown. You had to know what the message was, but you were absolutely terrified at the same time. Your thumbs hover, occasionally twitching over the screen, until you pull the trigger and swipe up.

Us. Hailee...

Driving to your apartment, you broke nearly every single traffic law that there is. The entire time you tried calling Hailee’s phone back to back, just repeating the same mantra; please pick up. Please, please pick up. She never did.

“Hailee!!” You run through your apartment door, not having to mess with it for long as it was already unlocked. You had a feeling it would be. “Answer me!” You yell, breathlessly. The apartment is eerily dark and quiet.

Coming to a halt in the main living space, you whipped your head around looking for clues and try to listen for any signs of distress. But it was so difficult to hear anything over your own breathing and pulse drumming in your ears.

You knew where you had to go, the last picture of your friends dress laid out on your bedspread was the roadmap. The bedroom door was just barely closed over, a creepy orange glow lining it and trying to escape from underneath. Each step closer that you took, felt as if a large spider made entirely of ice was crawling down your spine.

Pushing the door open slightly with just a fingernail, you peered into the room. You knew this is exactly where this person wanted you. For what? There’s only one way to find out.

There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room, so you took a few small steps in. The glow was more prominent now, giving the room an uncanny romantic ambiance with numerous amount of white candles lit all along the dressers, night tables, and bookshelves.

Taking a broad step forward, your attention is now focused on the bed. Hailee's dress is no longer laid out like it had been in the picture. Instead, there are flower petals sprinkled across your comforter. The intriguing curiosity drew you even more into the room without you even realizing. Picking up one of the petals, you rub it between your fingers, feeling it's supple and delicate smoothness as you examine it more closely. In that moment you recognize it- the familiarity of it's dark appeal. They're black dahlia petals.

Some of the petals congregated in one particular area on the bed, revealing an elegant, black gift box about the size of a large book. Your lips part slightly as you pick up the box, captivated by it's alluring magnetism. Taking off the lid, your brows furrow slightly in confusion. It's a chain. A long, thick slip chain that looks like a necklace but almost long enough to be a leash.

As your finger smoothes over the cold indentations of the chain, you hear a creak come from the floor behind you. In a startled jump, you drop the box- a slight ringing sound deafens the scene even more from the chain hitting the floor. But that's not your concern. Because as you turn around, you see him.

Within arms reach, you are confronted with the person that's been behind all of this. He's even taller up close, broader. Dressed in all black attire, this time swapping the black hoodie for a black t-shirt and black leather jacket. And without the hood, you're able to see the elongated white face from earlier.

It's a Ghostface mask.

He stands as still as a statue, watching you intently, waiting. Your eyes persist in looking him over as your chest rises and falls deeply. When your gaze meets his face once again, his head creepily tilts ever so slightly to one side.

"What's the matter?" He speaks, his voice deep and low, "you look like you've seen a ghost," the tone almost mocking.

Squinting your eyes, you look at him again. And this time you really look at him. His body frame, the clothes, the familiarity of his voice. Your eyes widen at the realization.

"Bucky?" you gape, completely stupefied. Taking the first fearless step in what feels like months, you wrap your arms around him. He returns the sentiment and you feel safe, for the first time in what feels like forever. It suddenly dawns on you that he's not actually on a mission. And probably never was.

"What- What is this?" You ask, looking up at him, slightly pushing the mask up to reveal his stubbled chin and promiscuous grin.

"There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it..." He repeats back the words you said to him a few months ago watching the Scream movie.

The memory of you how you told him about this kink of yours curls around your mind. That this entire time, you were never in any kind of serious danger, he just brought it to life. Weeks and months of preparation went into this, here, tonight. You should have known all along that Bucky would never have been so nonchalant about you in any type of significant situation. You're safe. You always were and always will be.

The tiny icy footprints that had trailed up your spine were long gone, now replaced with a burning and tantalizing desire. You've missed him, thinking he was away while you were dealing with this on your own. But now he's here, fulfilling your deepest desires.

Looking up, Bucky's Pacific blue eyes are already gazing down into yours, a built up and unsatisfied hunger prominent. Moving up onto your tiptoes and grabbing him behind the neck, you bring down his head and capture his lips.

Your mouth parted his, gliding and massaging his tongue with your own. A low growl reverberated from within his throat with approval, and promise to make everything up to you tenfold. Bucky's intoxicating cypress scent fills your nostrils as your inhaled deeply, pressing your breasts up into his chest. Taking off the leather gloves and shrugging his jacket onto the floor, his hands started to wildly wander around your body, giving light squeezes on your hips before settling and interlacing gingerly in your hair.

That didn't last long, though. There was a sudden and hard tug from where Bucky held your hair, enough to pull the two of you apart. The aggressiveness of the gesture was unexpected, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't fucking love it. His eyes linger on your already swollen lips, now wearing a pursed, provocative grin. His hand releases the tight grip he had on your loose curls, watching the relief from the sting flash across your eyes. Bucky has always been tender, gentle and using your body as a place of worship-but tonight is different.

Grabbing the hem of your sweater, he maneuvers it up and off to join his growing pile of discarded clothes. Dropping to his knees with a loud thud, he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans, pulling them down and weaving his tongue along the freshly exposed skin. Hissing through your teeth, your hips instinctively press forward. He lets out a dark laugh, before grabbing the chain you dropped before. Standing back up, he takes your hand, "Come," he says, leading you towards the cornered edge of the mattress.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his muscular body causes it to sink slightly. His free hand, still holding the chain, grips his own thigh before giving it a light pat, "Sit," he commanded, again keeping that firm edge in his voice that you weren't used to. You enthusiastically follow his orders, sitting delicately facing outward in just your matching ivory lace bra and panties. It's hard not to notice how you just fit. And how much you secretly love his significantly large frame pressed against your much more petite body in comparison to his.

The soft tip of his nose runs along the outside of your neck, his large hands coasting along your shoulders, down your arms, sides, before settling on your thighs. The calluses on his hands leaving a sensational trail of tingles and heat to disperse under your skin.

"Look," his head nods forward once to get your attention, and now you see the reason why he sat you here. In the corner of the bedroom, just a few feet away, is a full length standing mirror angled perfectly to reflect everything.

You see yourself, already flushed with arousal and breathing heavily as you make eye contact with Bucky in the mirror. His devious smile pins you in place as you watch his hands pry open your legs, entrancingly over his. They willingly spread open wide for him, your restless hips now squirming, aching for more. His fingertips trace small circles on your inner thigh.

"I want you to see your face as you fall apart, " he taunted, his voice sultry in your ear, still holding your gaze in the mirror. His middle finger skims across your already embarrassingly dampened panties, causing your back to press against his rigid chest.

There was a vague rattling sound, followed by Bucky placing the large opening of the looped chain over your head and around your neck, “Bucky, what are you doing-” you watch curiously in the mirror. Part of the chain dangles between your breasts, which he wraps around his hand once and slowly starts to pull, causing the loop around your neck to compress.

It’s a choker.

Your eyes go wide, nervousness rippling through you as you grasp his intentions, “Bucky, I don’t know-”

“Do you really think you have a choice?” he barked, pulling the Ghostface mask down back onto his face. Talking to you through the mirror, “I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” he whispers, breaking character for a moment to assure you’re safe.

You nod in response, your reflection visibly eases in the mirror as the necklace slackens around your throat. He lets the chain lax too, for now.

Large hands are back to kneading your thighs, a lone finger brushing between your legs when gravitating along the inside. It’s not long until the sensation has you starting to wriggle once again.

Cupping your sex, his hand gently moves up and down, keeping a firm, yet delicate and delicious pressure. Your greedy hips tilt forward, wanting more from his right hand, while the coolness of his left continues to lazily stroke over your skin. But when that icy touch quickly grabs and tears your underwear off in one jolt, you gasp at the tiny bite the ripping cloth left behind.

Now you’re left wide and exposed- to yourself, to Bucky, to the reflections of yourselves staring intensely, watching every movement. The warmth of his hand is back, leisurely gliding two fingers between your already achingly wet pussy. Swallowing hard, your breath hitches as you can not only feel, but see, yourself start to lose composure.

Bucky pulls the two fingers away, holding them up just to your mouth, "wet them for me," he instructs, his voice silk like satin. Taking the two fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirled rapidly around the digits, savoring the salty-sweetness of your arousal. Slowly pulling them back out, you see them shine with your saliva.

Something comes over you in that moment, call it gluttonous, but you pool some extra moisture into your mouth and spit onto the fingers. Just for good measure.

There's a murmured hum of approval in your ear as he spreads your folds, teasing your increasingly sensitive clit between his two fingers. And getting Bucky's praise will only enhance the entire night. Your legs quiver at the deliberate sluggish pace, letting out shaky breaths as the overwhelming throbbing demands more attention.

Finally, the pads of those fingers start to rub your bundle of nerves in unhurried circles. Gripping onto his thigh to steady yourself, your nails clutching his jeans, a whine escapes as your hips try to buck against his hand.

That dark laugh is in your ear again, "good girls don't come until I tell them too," Bucky breathes, overly indulging in how you respond to his touch. It feels like torture, in the best possible way. The combination of his words and caress... you have never felt this good. This wanted.

Your head falls back slightly against his shoulder in small disappointment, whimpering, knowing that he's going to make you beg. And you're getting desperate enough to do so.

The leisurely pace of his fingers picks up, causing your back to arch away from his chest as you start panting. Each swipe building pleasure, layer on top of agonizing layer. Finding yourself in the mirror again, you unapologetically watch as your body vigorously writhes against his hand, your moans spilling from your mouth more and more.

"How badly do you want to come, princess?" The Ghost breathed, his chest rising and falling heavily now, trying to fight off his own desire, evident from the hard protrusion you keep rolling your hips against.

"S-so bad... Please! Please," you pleaded, not caring how desperate it sounds. Adding some additional pressure, your hips stutter. Your breathing practically stops as your moans transform into one long, drawn out strangled whine as you come apart, "O-ooh...oh my god. Oh god!"

Not even fully coming down from the repeated waves, you hear, "God's not here," growled into your ear. In one sudden movement, Bucky stands up with you in his arms before tossing you onto the bed, "just me.” the low rumble emits from his chest. Ripping off the mask, he kneels on the bed and uses his left arm to support his weight. Using those same damned two fingers, he plunges them into your drenched pussy, siphoning a sound from your throat that’s unrecognizable.

“Again,” Bucky breathes, his eyes glazed over with a new kind of wickedness as they lock into yours, “Come for me again. I fucking love all the sounds you make,” With his palm face up, his fingers start pumping you from the inside, running over your g-spot in a come here motion.

Since there was no remission from your last orgasm, the tightness in your belly never fully went away. Watching Bucky, seeing him in the tight black t-shirt while his bicep flexes from working you, his slightly furrowed brow and his lips slightly parted in determination, you could feel it building up once again.

Feeling your walls contract around him, he grinned. He changes his hand motions to going in a frantic up and down movement, and if you know, you know. Your rasped whimpers became silent as you forgot how to breathe and your vision blurred. The build up came on so fast and so strong, the only sound in the room was your ever increasing wetness.

Your mouth dropped open into a silent O, not able to think not a single coherent thought, "Thaaat's it..." Bucky coaxed, "I want you to gush all over my fucking hand," and with his words, your body quivers as you completely shatter with a loud cry. "Goood girl. God, what a good fucking girl," he soothes. You winced slightly as he pulled out his fingers, collapsing back more into the bed as you try to rein in remembering how to breathe. Bucky sits back on his knees, and almost entirely up to his elbow is glistening with how hard you just came.

With a flat tongue, he presses it to his palm, and licks all the way up to the tip of his middle finger, "Perfect," Bucky hums in satisfaction to himself. Your throat goes dry at the sight, being the cherry on top of all the mouth breathing you've been doing. Am I fucking dreaming?

Pushing his jeans down to his knees, his thick, flushed cock rebounds out of his boxers. Bucky grabs you by the hips, pulling you down the bed before flipping you over onto all fours. Each of his hands grabs a fistfull of your ass, before slapping one side. You moan at the bite of the smack, feeling delusional from needing him inside you so badly. He rubs the reddened cheek before dropping a teeth grazed kiss on the sensitive skin.

There's a coolness between your legs, and you realize that it's your juices sliding down your thighs. Not needing any preparation, you feel the tip of Bucky's fat cock lining up to slide into your tight little slit. He rubs the head up and down, lubricating just enough to push himself in. As he started to sink into you, it took every bit of will you had not to collapse as you felt his slight struggle to get in.

"Fuck, you're tight," he sighs. But truth be told, he's just that big. As if he had a direct roadmap, he slides in effortlessly right to the hilt, poking the sweetest spot of all making you choke out a sob, "You can take it, can't you angel?" He breathes huskily, amusement draped around the words as he dragged his cock back maliciously slow, letting you feel the ridge of each vein, every delectable centimeter of his length.

You feel your eyes roll closed, enjoying the all consuming sensation. With one quick thrust all at once, Bucky simultaneously yanks on the chain of the forgotten choker forcing your eyes open with a loud cry to find him glaring at you in the mirror, "Look at me when I'm fucking you," he reprimanded, in a subdued yet stern voice.

He started to move in a merciless rhythm, keeping the chain taut in one of the hands that clenched your hips. Each thrust delivered not only a delectable deep nudge against your cervix, but a small slap of his balls to your achingly sensitive clit. The combination of internal and external stimulation has you singing your own personal explicit cry, almost on the verge of tears with the intensity.

It's almost cruel the way that he fucks you, like he's dismantling you piece by piece, mentally, physically, emotionally. Never have you been treated like such a prize possession and a cheap whore at the same time. Your walls flutter around his cock, swallowing him needing moremoremore. You're body's accepted that this pussy is Bucky's. It's meant for him. It was made for him.

In the reflection you can see Bucky wet his lips, his eyes darting between yours and your ass bouncing off of his snapping hips. He continues to murmur soft, filthy praises as he fucks another orgasm from you. The choker tensed as you came, making the edges of your vision blurry- your walls clenching so tightly, causing each stroke to become more intense than the next. After you completely shattered, the chain went slack once again.

Manhandling you one last time, Bucky lays back flat on the bed and positions you to straddle him. You shake your head in an almost delirious state, "I-I can't. Buck, I-" you whisper, thoroughly cock drunk, "I can't," you pleaded.

"Yes you can, angel," his hands glide over your sweat coated thighs, a lecherous expression on his face. You nod ever so slightly, because even as spent and exhausted as you feel, you want to see him come apart. You want to look down into his eyes as joins you in the fucked out bliss.

You grab the base of his cock, using it to align yourself before sliding back down on top of him. Bucky's eyes widen, watching intensely as your bodies joined one another. All the air releases out of his lungs at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him all the way in- deeper, your thighs already trembling. His hands clench your hips as your they start to grind back and forth.

His ab muscles flex under your nail piercing grasp- that pressure once again starting to build. He's just so deep, you're still just so wet from coming 3 times in a row, and now his wide tip is nestled so perfectly against your cervix that each motion of your body feels like you're going to spontaneously combust and die. But there's no way that heaven could be better than this. Those painfully beautiful sapphire blue eyes filled with an rapacious hunger that only you can fulfill.

You're mouth opens in attempt to say his name like a prayer, or something as equally dirty, but all that comes out is a sputter of shuddered gasps. Bucky's unapologetically loud moans grow more frequent, turning into their own long, drawn out beautiful melody, "fuck," he whispers, "that's so good."

Leaning down, chest to chest, you capture his lips in yours- swallowing those gorgeous sounds. Bucky takes this opportunity to thrust his hips up, massaging your inner walls as you push back against him. The loud smacking of flesh borderline drown out the sounds of both your orgasms, but you could feel the vibration from deep within Bucky's throat through the kiss. Rope after rope, you could feel his warmth emptying inside of you.

The strokes became laguid as he maintained the kiss- Bucky's hands cupping your face gently, which was such a dichotomy compared to the way he fucked you tonight. You finally pull your lips apart, collapsing fully on top of his body. Laying in silence, all you can hear is each other's ragged breathing and the drumming of his heart in your ear against his chest.

"I am... never getting rid of that fucking mask," Bucky chuckles lightly.

"Just so you know," you prop your chin up on your palm, "there's 5 other movies in the franchise."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

@marianastudiesart @chaosbarelycontained @wonderbreadbucky @amethystviolin @fluffysucker @buckybraneslover111 @crazyf0robx @thorns-fixations @brairslair @dumdumlolly @miss0giarra @nerdytif @am-3-thyst @blondierog @mrsstuckyboo

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Frat Rafe Headcanons

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 warnings: Pet names, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, public sex, choking, jealousy, ownership kink, perv Rafe, recording sex, possessive, mentions of fighting, degradation

⭐️ republished ⭐️

Meeting Him…

Frat Rafe – Who first noticed you from across the lecture hall. Luckily for him, you were sitting next to a pledge who quickly switched seats the second Rafe gave him a hard look. He didn’t say a whole lot at first, chuckling to himself as he watched a little blush creep across the apples of your cheeks when he spread his thighs slightly brushing his knee against yours.

Frat Rafe – Who couldn’t take his eyes off of you through the soapy glass at the Fraternity Car Wash. You shamelessly recorded the show, giggling and smiling as he and his brothers washed cars between slow grinds and finger-drawn hearts. A very wet Rafe Cameron somehow made it through the car window, his tall frame barely fitting inside the cab as he continued to work for your cash. He danced to the music blaring through the speakers, smiling cheekily as you tucked a few extra dollars in his short red trunks.

Frat Rafe – Who waved you down before you could pull out of the lot, jogging up to your freshly cleaned car, asking you to come out to the bar that night.

Frat Rafe – Who sent three back-to-back text messages before you could pull away, the third making your mouth fall open. You looked through the window, watching Rafe chuckle and smirk, pretty proud of himself at the reaction that he got from you and the smile you couldn’t take off your lips.

Frat Rafe – Who you fucked after the first date. You couldn’t stop thinking about him after the carwash, his tanned, toned skin glistening in the sun. It was unclear just how many times you watched that fucking video, but it was a lot. You couldn’t wait to get your hands on him. Rafe Cameron lived up to every one of the rumors. The sex was amazing, the best you ever had, rough and slow, fast when you needed it. His long thick cock filled you deliciously. It seemed like he was always one step ahead of you; like he knew what you wanted before you even asked. His beautiful blue eyes were always on you, hazed with sex. His soft lips and tongue pleased you again and again ‘til you were a babbling mess.

Dating Frat!Rafe…

Frat Rafe – Who’s affectionate and gentle with you. Only you get to see that side of him, Rafe, reserving all his sweetness for you.

Frat Rafe – Who loves to wrap his strong arm around your neck in doggy, tugging you as close as possible, ‘til you’re begging him to let you cum.

Frat Rafe – Who went absolutely crazy the first time you called him daddy. The petname quickly became his favorite.

Frat Rafe – Who loves to brag about you to his frat brothers, especially when he’s drunk. The blonde, quick to remind them how much better you are than the girls they are hitting on to the point where it’s downright rude. You’ll scold his tipsy ass, and he’ll sass you as he continues to dog his friend until you have no choice but to smash your lips against his and steal the words off his lips.

Frat Rafe – Who sent you this message just a few days after you started talking:

Little did you know how much it was on his mind. He hated that you weren’t official. A much as Rafe wanted you to belong to him, he wanted to belong to you.

Frat Rafe – Who asked you out that night ‘cause he couldn’t wait any longer.

Frat Rafe – Who loves sneaking away with you at parties. Sure, he loves showing you off, but his favorite thing to do is chill in his truck, listening to music while the two of you share a joint and talk.

Frat Rafe – Who would rather spend every night at your place than the frat house because he can actually relax. Some nights you go to sleep alone and wake up with Rafe’s strong body hugging you from behind after he let himself in with the key you had cut just for him. He couldn’t sleep and needed you.

Frat Rafe – Who lives in weathered fraternity t-shirts and snapbacks if he’s not rocking a crisp polo. At any function, Rafe’s hat usually ends up on your head, one way or another, left on from time to time when you suck him off or ride his cock.

Frat Rafe – Who doesn’t trust any of his frat brothers around you but Top. If you’re coming over to hang out he’s meeting you out at your car to walk you in. If you’re at a party his hand is in yours, resting on your back, draped over your shoulder, or wrapped around your waist. He loves the contact just as much as he loves keeping you safe.

Frat Rafe – Who texts you cute/horny shit when he’s drunk and you’re away.

He often questions how he got so lucky or why are you dating me again? Rafe knows you love him, he just loves hearing it. His frat brothers also know when you’re gone for the weekend because Rafe turns into an absolute dick, bitching about everything until you’re back.

Frat Rafe – Who doesn’t care if people can hear the two of you having sex in fact he loves it. Rafe coaches you through each orgasm, trying hard to get you screaming for him.

“C’mon, princess… Let these boys hear how good daddy’s givin’ it to you.”

“Shh… Baby, I’d hate for all these guys to hear what a filthy fuckin’ slut you are f’me.”

“Bet he didn’t think I was fuckin’ you right. What do you think he thinkin’ now huh?”

He also loves watching you walk back into the party all flushed and wobbly knowing that he was the reason you were weak in the knees. Rafe loves to mark you with love bites, and hand prints, dark hickies on your cleavage that peek out of your low-cut dress, pairing beautifully with the sparkly little R pendant around your neck.

Frat Rafe – Who dedicates every Wednesday night for date night and will never let a frat meeting or function interfere.

Frat Rafe – Who’s a surprisingly good dancer. He’ll only dance at the bar if he’s wasted, but when he does, your ass is pressed up against him with his strong hands clutching your hips. It doesn’t take long until you’re dress is bunched up around your waist, panties pushed to the side, with Rafe’s pants in a puddle around his ankles as he fills you up in the dingy bar bathroom. On the other hand, if you’re at the frat house, it only takes a song or two until your bent over the bathroom sink or pressed up against the hallway wall.

Frat Rafe – Who couldn’t wait for Spring Break. Each drunken day was spent at the beach with his frat brothers and your friends – each night, a different bar. But Rafe made sure you still had some moments alone whether it be to take you shopping, share a beer, or watch the sunset.

Frat Rafe – Who got rid of his dirt bike and bought a motorcycle instead. Of course, making sure he bought a helmet for you so he could bring you to class or for a cruise around campus.

Frat Rafe – Who fell in love with you all over again when you made him a beer poster with yourself as the model. You had no idea how much he loved it until you showed up to the next frat party and saw it framed on the wall.

Frat Rafe – Who’s gotten in trouble with the law a few times for fighting. Rafe, no stranger to a fight on account of you when someone tries to start shit or gets handsy. He never ends up making it to jail, usually talking or paying his way out of it.

Frat Rafe – Who knows your class schedule like the back of his hand. Whenever he’s at the library he’ll text you and ask if you need a study break which is code for stuffing you full of his cock in study room D.

Frat Rafe – Who jealously gets the better of him, and when he pisses you off, all it takes is a flirty smile and a wave at one of his frat brothers or a hockey player to set him off. The rest of the night consists of rough, possessive sex, and punishment which somehow turns into sweet, slow passionate sex where’s he’s mumbling I love you’s and I’m sorry’s between deep strokes and kisses.

Frat Rafe – Who loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his oversized frat t-shirts paired with your cute little panties.

Frat Rafe – Who sends you gym selfies because he knows how crazy they make you, especially post-workout shots.

Frat Rafe – Who couldn’t keep his hands or eyes off you at the frat formal. It was hard not to think about the future when you looked so pretty in your white sparkly dress.

Frat Rafe – Who’s fiercely loyal. You never need to worry about other girls around him, but the sight of it still makes you jealous. Rafe is quick to assure you you’re all he wants and needs.

Frat Rafe – Who has a thing for your panties. The lacey and prettier the better; wrapped around the shift of his truck, looped over the hand of his bedroom door, the rung of his bedpost, anywhere and everywhere. He loves to wrap them around the base of his cock when you ride him or knot them around your wrists when he ties you to his headboard. But his eyes roll back in his skull when you stuff them in his mouth because he loves how you taste.

Frat!Rafe – Who loves recording the two of you having sex and frequently snaps pictures of you just ‘cause.

Frat!Rafe – Who won’t just send you dick pics when you ask, but videos with the sounds on, usually moaning your name until he’s spilling onto his hand, using the pictures or videos the two of you took as porn.

Frat!Rafe – Who had to change his lock screen when you took him home for the holidays because it was a picture of you in his favorite lingerie.

Frat!Rafe – Who has pictures of you everywhere and he doesn’t care who sees because don’t you wish you had a girl like mine.

[nhlclover]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: luke takes the risk and admits his feelings for you

warnings: a couple instances of cursing, mostly fluff, awkward dialogue

word count: 1.40k

“Luke, if you don’t get your ass over there right now, I’m gonna do it for you.”

Luke turned back around in his chair, reluctantly meeting the sets of eyes boring at him. Dawson let out a snort at Luke's sheepish face. “Look at his cheeks, he’s blushing.” Dawson laughed.

Luke rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his glass. His drink, purchased over an hour ago, had now become watered down and lukewarm.

“You’re such a pussy.” Jack taunted, sipping from his bottle.

“Okay, fuck off guys,” Luke muttered.

Luke fought the urge to look back over his shoulder where he knew he’d spot you still, dancing freely with your friends. Your body swaying and twirling along with the beat, hand in hand with your friend.

“Luke, c’mon, she’s been in Jersey for… what, six months now? And you still haven’t made a move.” Nico pointed out.

“She’s… we’re just friends,” Luke said, pulling his eyes onto his glass.

“Oh please, Luke, you’re not fooling anyone with that whole ‘we’re just friends’ bullshit,” Jack said, his tone practically a laugh.

Luke opened his mouth to retaliate but shut it promptly when he realized he had nothing. Luke had spent countless nights replaying your interactions, dissecting every smile, every laugh, every glance. But nothing gave him a clear answer on what your relationship was.

He remembered the first time you met. One of Luke’s first days on campus he’d gone to the rink to film some content for the Michigan Hockey social media. Your eyes caught Luke first, sparkling as you instructed him on the content he needed to film and the various photos to take.

He got to know you over the year, and your relationship developed into something that felt like more than friends, but you never actually crossed that barrier.

You laughed at his jokes, but then again you laughed at everyone's jokes. You smiled wide at him, but you smiled at everyone. The ambiguity drove Luke mad. Sometimes, he thought he caught you looking at him, your gaze lingering a second longer than necessary. But then he’d dismiss it as wishful thinking. Maybe you were just friendly. Maybe you were just nice.

Then, early this summer when you gave the news of your hiring by the Devils to Luke, he felt that maybe he’d get to clarify what you were. But six months of you being in New Jersey had come and gone, and the status of your relationship still hung up in the air.

“Look, Luke, just go talk to her,” Dawson said, his tone softer. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Luke knew the worst. The worst that could happen was you telling him you didn’t see him that way. That you valued your friendship but nothing more. The worst was losing the ease and comfort of your current relationship. The late-night conversations, the inside jokes, the shared secrets.

But the best? The best was you feeling the same way he did. The best was the possibility of something deeper, real and deep. That thought alone made his heart race and his palms sweat.

“Guys I… I don’t know.” Luke admitted, his voice low and barely audible above the music in the bar. “What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

Nico smiled softly, recognizing the nervous demeanour of the younger boy. “Luke, you’ll never know unless you go for it. And if she doesn’t feel the same way, at least you’ll have your answer. You can move on. But if she does… think about it, man. Think about how amazing that could be.”

Luke thought about it. Thought about what could be between the two of you. And right now the best was seeming like it was worth the risk.

Luke took a deep breath, his mind racing. He glanced over at you one last time, seeing the way you laughed and moved so effortlessly. The fear of rejection loomed over him, but something shone through and pushed him forward. He watched as you said something in your friend's ear, before laughing and sauntering over to the bar.

“Alright,” Luke said, standing up and setting his glass down. “I’m gonna do it.”

“Attaboy!” Dawson cheered, while Jack and Nico whooped in encouragement. Luke gave them a look and they quieted their cheering. The last thing Luke wanted was for the boys to freak you out before he even got a chance to speak.

Luke leaned on the bar next to you, flagging down the bartender before you got the chance to. “Hey, man, can I get a Heineken and a Jack and Coke?”

You shot Luke a small, appreciative smile, your heart tensing slightly at him remembering your usual drink order. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to,” Luke said, glancing over at you with a small smirk tugging on his lips.

Once you got your drinks, Luke fully turned to you, heart pounding. “Having fun out there?” Luke asked, nodding towards the dance floor.

You laughed, a sounds that was melodic in Luke’s ears. “Yeah, you should join us.”

Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe later. I'm more of an observer than a dancer.”

You raised an eyebrow, teasingly. “Oh really? I seem to remember a certain someone busting some moves at that team party last month.”

Luke felt his cheeks heat up at the memory. “Okay, okay, maybe I dance a little. But only for special occasions.”

“What? Is tonight not special?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink.

He leaned in slightly, eyeing your face for any hint of where you were going with this. “It is now.”

Your eyes widened slightly, caught off-guard by his sudden boldness. “Luke Hughes, are you flirting with me?”

Luke grinned, feeling a rush of adrenaline run through his veins. “Maybe. Is it working?”

You bit your lip, fighting back a grin. Despite him trying to keep a calm exterior, you could tell that Lukes mind was running a million miles a minute. “Maybe. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Luke took a deep breath, deciding that it was now or never. He set his bottle down on the bar top, wiping his damp hands hands, either from sweat or the condensation of his bottle, on his shirt. “Okay, here it goes,” Luke said under his breath. “We’ve known each other for a while now, and… I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. You’re amazing, and I love spending time with you.”

Your smile widened, but you stayed silent, giving him the space to continue.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I have feelings for you. More than just friends. I’ve been trying to figure out if you feel the same way, but I can’t tell. So, I’m just gonna come out and say it: I like you. A lot.”

Your expression softened, a mixture of surprise and something else that Luke dared to hope was mutual affection. "Luke… I don't know what to say."

“Say you feel the same way,” Luke said, his voice slightly desperate. “Or tell me you don’t, just give me something, anything.”

“Luke,” you began, your voice filled with warmth. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. “Yeah. I’ve liked you for a long time too. I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same way.”

Relief washed over Luke, and he couldn’t help but grin. “So… does this mean we can give this a shot? Us, I mean.”

You leaned in closer, your eyes locked onto his. “I’d like that.”

Luke felt a wave of joy and excitement as he closed the distance between you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The bar around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. When you pulled back, you were both smiling, as months of pining had finally culminated.

“So… where do we go from here?” Luke asked.

“How about we start with a dance?” you suggested.

Luke laughed, feeling lighter than he had in months. "Alright, let's do it."

He took your hand, leading you to the dance floor, where you both lost yourselves in the music. As the night went on, Luke realized that taking the risk was the best decision he had ever made.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

eyes on the monitor

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: mike catches something on the security cameras that really shouldn't be happening at a family-friendly pizzeria—even an abandoned one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, stranger!reader, submissive!mike, trespassing, smut, m&f masturbation, public masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, squirting, finger sucking, cum eating, looming danger

word count: 3k

Mike has seen a lot of things on the security monitors in his three short nights working at Freddy's. 

Old animatronics that still roam about like they're possessed, cryptic messages written on dusty windows and mirrors. But he can honestly say he never saw this coming.

As the cameras shift from right to left, one of the screens glitches and crackles, and then there's you, tucked into a booth like you belong there. Except you don't. He's not even sure how you evaded his notice, let alone how you got into the building.

Don't you have any idea what's lurking in these halls? The dangers that patiently wait behind the curtained stage not even ten feet from where you're sitting? From where you're...

Fuck.

There's no way you possibly can because you're still lounging there without a care in the world, your legs spread wide and your jeans dangling off one ankle while you fuck yourself on your fingers. Two of them, your ring and middle, pump a steady rhythm in and out, dribbling slick all over the vinyl beneath you. You're so wet, even the camera's picking up the refracted light from the prize counter glinting off your pussy.

He should be panicked. He should be halfway to the auditorium by now to stop you, to drag you out of the pizzeria before the unthinkable happens, but—

But he can't bring himself to move or stop watching. He can't stop himself from palming his stiffening cock through his pants, either. Your head lolls back onto the booth and your body readjusts, giving him the perfect view of your languid movements. Now, it's almost like you're on display just for him.

And suddenly, he doesn't care about Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, or Foxy. He definitely doesn't care about his job or whatever else that career counselor said on the phone. The only thing Mike cares about is getting his dick out as fast as humanly possible so he can match the calculated press of your fingers and your frustratingly unhurried pace. 

You're thoroughly enjoying your pleasure—that much is clear—and it would be so easy to just...join in. He'd planned on sleeping through his fourth night, but now that you're here, there's nothing else he'd rather be doing than spending his shift fucking his fist and pretending it's you.

It'd be wrong. So, so wrong, but as you continue on, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil, he can feel himself getting harder and harder. There's a growing wet patch on the front of his sweatpants that's getting difficult to ignore, and he nearly moans as he grinds the heel of his hand into his lap for relief.

His gaze trails down your figure, surprisingly clear on the aging monitors, and he watches, dry-mouthed, as your unoccupied hand snakes up your body to tweak a nipple through your shirt. 

Fuck it, he can't take this anymore.

He yanks his pants down so fast, he's shocked he doesn't knock himself onto the floor, and hisses out a breath the moment his fingers wrap around himself. It aches with how good it feels, but he only allows his eyes to roll back for a split second before they're locked back on you. 

And you're sexy as hell. Your shirt's been tugged up and tucked under your chin to reveal that you decided to forgo a bra, in addition to the rest of your inhibitions, and he's thanking every deity he doesn't believe in that he doesn't have to imagine the plush curve of your tits and how they'd look sucked into his mouth.

Crap. He can't keep thinking shit like that if he wants to last longer than a few minutes. Ignoring the angry pulsing against his palm, he starts to stroke himself in time with your thrusts, diligently following your lead. But you're moving so slowly like you've got all the time in the world in this abandoned wonderland you've claimed for yourself, and Mike's time is limited. 

The longer this night goes on, the more restless they become, and it won't be long before those curtains open and you're interrupted. For good. There must be something seriously wrong with him, because he doesn't give a shit about that, either. They can wait. He's got another job to finish, and he needs this.

It's been so long since he last allowed himself to let go, and even longer since his body actually wanted to. He's harder than he's ever been in his life, and it's confusing and a little painful, and yet he hopes he lasts until his alarm goes off at 6 a.m., teetering on the edge of nirvana right alongside you. He wants you to make him cum so badly, and he knows you will, even if you don't know it yourself.

Tiny, hushed pleas escape him as your fingers speed up, begging you to coax him, to encourage him to be good for you and follow your every move. His office is too far from the auditorium for his words to carry, but he continues to moan them anyway, desperately. Obediently.

His eyes flutter closed as he succumbs to the fantasy of your lips grazing the shell of his ear, giving him firm instructions and praising him when he proves how well he can listen.

Such a good boy for me, Mike. A little faster, not too much. Nice and tight, just like that.

"Fuck. Like this? Is...is this okay?" he whimpers aloud, thumbing over the tip on his next upstroke. 

His hips buck into his hand at the sensation, and he grits his teeth, anticipating an admonishment that never comes. He's more than a little disappointed. 

That is, until he hears it, crystal clear as it filters through the cracked door and reverberates through his entire body. A needy, perfect moan, rising in pitch and volume with each passing moment. Yours.

You must've heard him, somehow. It's the only explanation. He has no idea how long he's been babbling, drunk on the tight, slick slide of skin against skin, but you're responding to it encouragingly like he's only ever imagined in his wettest dreams.

Mike's eyes shoot open, darting back to the monitor, and he has to grip the base of his cock tight to keep from cumming then and there. You're staring directly at the camera now, your chest heaving as you fuck yourself with three fingers, and he winces at how quickly his balls start to tighten.

He's going to cum. Shit. Shit.

But you didn't tell him he could. You're not even aware of the power you hold over him, and yet—

"You sound close, baby. You gonna cum for me?"

He sees your lips move and then your voice rings out a moment later, breathy and labored, and...how the fuck did you end up in this place? Who are you? He fucks into his fist frantically, leaking precum all over his fingers, and he can feel sweat matting his dark curls to his forehead, pooling where his aching wrist meets his hip bone. 

Maybe it doesn't even matter how or why you're in this pizzeria, not anymore. He can't stop anyway, not when you're urging him on and calling him baby. He feels delirious, blind to the rest of the security monitors and newly flickering lights. To the purple curtain slowly opening behind you.

Right now, it's just you and him. The familiar, searing heat in the pit of his groin, and the wet squelch of your fingers stroking your convulsing walls and rubbing tight circles into your clit—you're both so close, he knows it. He just needs you to say it. He needs your permission.

"Only if—," he gasps, belatedly realizing that his other hand is cupping his balls, squeezing reflexively without his permission. "—only if you say I can."

He watches your jaw drop, and your thighs begin to quake in response. Quicker than he can process, there's a sudden shift, and your gaze darkens mischievously to match the subtle quirk of your lips. You're in control now and you know it. You like it. He does, too.

Your pace doesn't slow at all and, instead, your hips begin to swivel into your touch, grinding into the sticky vinyl bench for more friction. 

So, that turns you on, huh? If he strains his ears, he swears he can just make out the squeaking of a diner booth being pushed to its limit. He's never been more jealous of furniture in his life.

That could've been him, if only he'd manned up and done his damn job. He could've had you bent over that table or bouncing on his cock; felt you gushing around him, clamping down on him. You would've wrung him dry.

Turns out you still do, just from a little further away. 

"Still hanging in there?" you coo from the other room, but the teasing in your voice is undercut by something headier. You sound wrecked.

His eyebrows pinch together, his expression almost pained, and he can feel that telltale pressure building, building.

"Y-yeah, but I...fuck, I can't hold it anymore," he whimpers, unable to keep his hips from snapping up into his hand. His thrusts are getting sloppier and tears are beginning to gather at the corners of his eyes. He wishes you could see him right now. "C-can I? Please."

Your fingers stutter and, for a second, he thinks he might've pushed you over the edge, but you recover just long enough to give him one final push. To tell him the one thing he's been longing to hear since he tugged down his pants and started playing your little game.

"Such a good boy," you repeat from earlier, a murmur that just barely reaches his ears, except this time it's really you and not just a fantasy. "Cum, baby. Let me hear you."

Then, his mind goes blissfully blank.

Mike doesn't just cum, he bursts. Soft whimpers taper into something guttural and animalistic as thick spurts coat his security vest and dribble down his length, soaking into the thick fabric of his sweatpants. He moans his way through it, nearly giving himself a friction burn with the intensity of his grip and speed. And he's loud, just like you told him to be. Much louder than he should be.

For a brief moment, his vision whites out, and he almost misses what he's been looking forward to all night. He blinks away the lingering spots obscuring his sight, and that's when it happens. Bathed in flashing green and yellow fluorescents, your entire body curls in on itself, shaking as your orgasm overcomes you and soaks the floor. 

His cock jerks pathetically in his hand as you work yourself through it, your eyes heavy-lidded and still locked on the camera. After a few more pumps, you slump into your seat and remove your fingers from your cunt, sucking them wetly into your mouth. 

He should get up. He should walk right into that auditorium with his dick still out so you can clean him up too, but he feels frozen in place. The skin at the back of his neck prickles and erupts into goosebumps and it feels like a warning, yet he still can't bring himself to look away from you. 

So, he doesn't notice the purple curtain opening just a fraction more in the background, and the curved, silver hook that peeks out from behind it. The blood rushing in your ears and steady heaving of your chest masks the metallic rattling, leaving you dangerously in the dark, too.

But Mike's eyes on the monitor are just enough to keep the pirate in his cove, and you're captivating enough to ensure they stay there. 

Sticky fingers twitch in his lap and, as if you can tell, you smirk around your own before pulling them free with a lewd pop. His mouth waters at the thought of what you must taste like and, unbeknownst to him, you're thinking the exact same about him. Since you're not there to help him yourself, you ask him to be good for you one last time.

"It's your turn," you laugh teasingly, swirling your tongue around your fingertips. "You should probably clean yourself up before you head home. It's almost six."

Heat curls low in his stomach and compels him to obey again. A cursory glance down at his watch tells him you're right—his alarm will go off soon, way sooner than he expected, and he's still covered in sweat and his own release. He could pop out of the office to the bathroom and be back before any real damage is done, probably. But that's not really what you're asking for.

"Tell me what you want me to do," he calls out, not bothering to hide the neediness in his voice. He's never experienced anything like this—like you—before and he's not sure he'll get the opportunity ever again.

"Lick it off. All of it," you instruct, dropping your fingers between your legs to swirl around your clit before popping them back into your mouth. Slowly, you show him exactly what you want, and he's a little horrified to realize he's getting hard again. "Can you do that for me?"

He nods quickly, forgetting you can't see his approval, but it doesn't matter, anyway. He's sucking the drying cum off his palm and fingers faster than he can reply, and his muffled responding moan tells you everything you need to know. After everything that's happened during this unexplainable night shift and everything you've made him feel, he'd likely do anything you asked.

"Such a good listener," you continue, ceasing your ministrations to lazily slip your underwear and jeans back into place. 

He's hit with a sudden wave of panic. This can't be over yet. There's still so much mystery shrouding you and whatever connection you have to this place, and if you leave now, he'll be left wondering forever. He wants answers, but disappointingly, you only leave him with more questions.

"How did I get so lucky with you, huh? The other security guards weren't nearly this fun," you smirk, dropping another bomb he never saw coming.

Oh. Oh. He freezes as he finishes laving the remaining wetness between his thumb and index fingers, the reality of the situation finally making itself known. This isn't the first time you've done this. It's probably not even the second or third. This is a habit, and he's not the only unwitting participant to fall prey to your seduction.

Fuck, he knew you were too good to be true. He hates that his body's still fighting his rationality while you sit there genuinely believing you've done nothing wrong. So innocent and, yet, still such an enigma. No one's ever made him cum that hard but, thankfully, his head is finally clear enough to put a stop to all of this. It's time to do his job.

The opportunity presents itself almost immediately. The flickering lights that have progressively gotten worse since his shift started reach a fever pitch, and the familiar figure in the corner of the screen reveals itself, wrenching his attention away from you. 

Mike barely has enough time to warn you before the screens start to glitch—every single one of them—and display nothing more than lines and lines of meaningless code. 

"You have to go. Now," he yells, struggling to be heard over the tinny screeching and jarring sounds of children's laughter crackling violently over the intercom. "Just—get out of here. Run, you have to run!"

He doesn't wait for a response, operating on autopilot as he wrestles his pants up and shoots out of his seat to the breaker box across the room. Terror and adrenaline pump through his veins, puppeteering him through the instructions left for him by Mr. Raglan.

Pull the lever down then back up, reset the power, and wait for the monitors to reboot. All he can do now is hope the machines don't deem you a threat and let you go. The room is plunged into darkness and the speakers go eerily silent.

Then, the systems come back online just like they're supposed to. But you're gone. He frantically searches the monitors for even a trace of you, evidence that you ever existed at all, but there's nothing. The only relief he's granted is that there's no blood or pieces of you scattered across the building. There's nothing at all.

Bracing himself on the desk in front of him, he breathes in desperate lungfuls of air, crashing from his adrenaline-fueled high and giving in to exhaustion. Just one more night. One more night at Freddy's, and he'll take that paycheck and never look back.

After a while of waiting for his panic to subside, his watch starts to beep, signaling the end of this night from hell. Fighting to ignore his conflicting feelings and lingering confusion, and even more so the phantom heat still licking at the base of his spine when he lets his thoughts stray back to you, he grabs his backpack and all but speed walks to the breaker to cut the power again.

As his fingers close around the lever, the intercom suddenly crackles to life. Something akin to hope blooms in his chest, and he whips around to see your image picked up by the camera at the entrance, radiant and unharmed under the morning sun of a new day. 

You're smiling, and he can't find it in himself to care that he's smiling back. You turn to leave, then think better of it.

"Same time tomorrow?" 

He scoffs, shaking his head at how ridiculous his life has become since he started this gig. If not even haunted animatronic mascots and the looming threat of death can't keep you away, then who is he to try? 

Yeah. He'll see you tomorrow.

thanks for reading!

[leahwllmsn]

loss of my life II

alexia putellas x reader

Bumping into you isn’t on Alexia's plan.

part of the loml series

Alexia barely manages to read her sister’s text when she bumps into someone, and she doesn’t need to look up to know who that person is—a year isn’t enough to erase the memory of you.

“Ale?” 

You‘re holding onto Alexia’s forearms to keep her from falling over. And Alexia... as much as her heart says otherwise, she doesn’t appreciate the contact. She’s overwhelmed, thinking about how she’s going to Mapi and Ingrid’s house-warming party with you and your new Leah there.

Alexia is dreading the day and now she has to see you when she isn’t prepared. At all.

“Uh—sorry.” you seem to notice the blonde’s discomfort and let go of her arms.

Alexia steps back and clears her throat. “No, no. I’m the one who should be sorry, I didn’t see where I was going.”

You give her a small smile and stay quiet—neither of you know what to say to each other anymore. This is the first time after the break-up that you’re both alone with each other. No one else is around, just the two of you. 

Alexia can feel her heart beating faster with every glance towards you and she really needs to get out of there.

Before she has the chance to give a reason to excuse herself, you speak up, “So... how was your summer?”

Alexia just stares at you, great, you want to have small talk. Alexia knows she can’t talk about you for more than five minutes without wanting to break out into a sob, how is she supposed to actually talk to you?

When Alexia doesn’t answer, you furrow your eyebrows and fiddle with your fingers—a sign that means you’re nervous, Alexia still remembers. “Uh, it’s okay if you don’t want to answer. This is probably so weird.” 

Alexia shakes her head and tries her best to flash you a genuine smile, “It was... okay, I guess. Nothing interesting. How about you?”

You smile back, and Alexia really hates how your smile still has an effect on her. “It was okay, too. I went to London and it was nice, but I miss Barcelona every second I was away.”

Alexia nods in reply. A silence then falls over you. Alexia knows you don’t feel the same way she does, but the longer Alexia spends within your presence, the better she feels. Alexia figures you’re the antidote to her pain—her heart cherishes every second of this brief encounter with you, her soul finally content that it’s finally within arm’s reach with the person it has been yearning for so much.

Thinking back to what Mapi said… How is Alexia supposed to find someone else? Because after you said that you need to go and she has to watch you leave, there is nothing more Alexia wants to do than to scream your name and beg you to stay.

[yyuangss]

TU TODAVIA ME AMAS ! ( JING YUAN )

SUMMARY ! you may not be together anymore, and you can deny it all you want, but jing yuan knows you’re still in love with him.

NOTES ! yes, this is highly based off aventura’s todavia me amas 🏃‍♂️ it was supposed to be the hsr men but i have been wanting to write something longer and i wanted to write for my number one again 🤞 jing yuan, i have not forgotten you. reader is not the trailblazer. word count: 2.3k

A heavy sigh escaped from your lips. Your palm was pressed against your forehead and the other held a few sheets of paper. As you paced around in the Seat of Divine Foresight, the heels of your boots clicked with each movement. This situation is stressing you out more than usual.

So much that you aren’t even sure where to start. Jing Yuan sits quietly behind the large desk, watching your every movement. You are supposed to be discussing the matter with the General. Except you’ve been panicking in silence and left him counting how many sighs you’ve let out.

He watched you stop in front of the desk, gnawing on your bottom lip before setting the papers down on the desk.

“The number of monsters continues to rise.” You muttered, walking around the desk and sat next to Jing Yuan with space in between you. The same silence from earlier filled the room. It’s only the two of you and a warm teapot on the center of the desk alongside two teacups. “At this rate, we would lose more soldiers and it could even be risky for you to fight them alone.”

“Are you saying I’ve gotten weak?” The General finally spoke up after being quiet for the last hour. You tore your gaze away from the documents and looked over at him. His eyes held some drowsiness in them. You’re surprised he didn’t fall asleep where he was sitting earlier when you were pacing. A faint smile is present on his lips.

“I didn’t say that, General.” Your head turned back to the documents and your eyebrows furrowed again. “I’m simply saying that with all these appearances in the Luofu, they’re bound to give you trouble. Doesn’t matter if you’re our strongest soldier.”

“Please. I defeated Phantylia.” He gave his hand a quick wave, dismissing your words. You raised an eyebrow at his boastful comment. It was rare the time he said one of those. “Do you really think I wouldn’t win against a bunch of lowly monsters?”

“Don’t forget that you had the help of Imbibitor Lunae.” You said, resting your arm on the desk. Jing Yuan shrugged in response since he believed he had a valid point. Phantylia was one of his toughest enemies and he still managed to come out victorious with the Nameless, despite her being a Lord Ravager of Nanook.

“I did most of the work.” He said which made a frown appear on your face. His smile became more prominent at your reaction. You weren’t in the mood for his jokes. You didn’t have high hopes since his antics haven’t changed. Jing Yuan tilted his head down slightly. The stare he’s giving you means he’s about to say something else to irk your nerves on purpose. “I must say, it’s nice to know you still care about me after all these years.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. You grabbed the stack of papers again, flipping to the second page.

“It’s common sense to care about your comrades, General.” You said, furrowing your eyebrows as you read the encounters a few citizens of the Luofu had with monsters.

Your ability to make up excuses on the spot was impressive to him. He knew you well enough to see right through them.

“Right…” Jing Yuan crossed his arms over his chest. He took in a deep breath and exhaled shortly afterwards. He glanced up towards the ceiling. “Comrades…”

He’s gotten used to the way you act towards him now. He blames that on himself. Having time to reflect on your past relationship makes him realize how wrong his actions were.

To be exact, being in a relationship with Jing Yuan wasn’t easy. Everyone saw the chemistry and connection you two had. His playful remarks that made your face flush. The way you’d manage to get him speechless with your own comments. Once you two confirmed to finally be together, people assumed that you already were in a relationship. And at first, things were perfect.

Jing Yuan had become the man of your dreams. He wanted nothing more than to be yours for the remainder of his life. But once it became more serious and steady, moving out of that honeymoon phase, the problems started to develop.

You’re a high ranking official in the army. Strategic planning, training new recruits, creating teams, making sure the monsters are kept out of safe zones. It might not seem like it, but your position could become risky. The General knows you’re strong. Otherwise, this rank wouldn’t have been given to you.

Though knowing the woman he loves is constantly put in harm's way, he tends to worry. There were times Jing Yuan deliberately refused to send you to the front lines. Even if you argued saying it was your job, he sometimes went as far as changing plans. This was his way of keeping you safe. You couldn’t blame him. He’d lost a lot of friends and comrades. And he’d be damned if he lost you too.

Unfortunately, his overprotectiveness caused him to lose you in a different manner.

It’s not to say that you didn’t care about him. Jing Yuan could act reckless if he wanted to. Those rare moments when he did were the times you acted the same way. But never to an extent where you wouldn’t let him do his job.

The screen from your phone lit up. A notification which caught Jing Yuan’s attention and his curiosity got the best of him. His eyes flicked over and caught a glimpse of what it was. A message. He didn’t bother to read what was sent, he was more interested in the name of the sender. The General easily recognized it because Yanqing was the one to find out about it.

On a busy day, his young student said he ran into you when searching for a criminal in Aurum Alley. You were talking to some man before he decided to ask for your help. Then the lieutenant started to see you several times with the same man. Each time he went and told his mentor about it. As far as Jing Yuan is aware, you’re getting to know this new man.

He had yet to personally speak with his replacement.

“Hmph,” The noise came out extremely low and Jing Yuan looked away, pretending as if his focus wasn’t on your phone for a split second. He wasn’t as quiet as he thought. You looked from the documents to the General. At that same moment, you saw the bright screen light up again. You moved the papers out of your line sight and grabbed your phone.

Ah. Now you see why he’s looking away.

“So…” He cleared his throat. He’s still staring off at the wall as if he were a sulking child scolded by their parents. “This… Man. I presume you and him are together?” What a way to make things awkward.

“No.” You said. Jing Yuan only made his intentions more obvious by facing you again. He’s met with you sending a reply before putting your phone on the desk again. “We’re getting to know each other, is all. Enjoying someone else’s company outside of work and keeping things casual between us.”

“I see…” He mumbled under his breath. The General stares off at the entrance.

Now that the topic is still fresh, you might as well ask.

“And you?” You cautiously looked over at him. “Are you seeing anyone?”

You haven’t heard any rumors or speculation that he had a new lover. It’s been eating away at you ever since your relationship ended. Perhaps this could be your chance to encourage him if he already wasn’t in one. He was the General of the Luofu and had many options. Tons of women fawned over him. And you couldn’t lie, due to their dynamics, even Fu Xuan would be a great pair.

You had to remind yourself you weren’t in a relationship with him anymore and he was free to be with whoever he wanted.

“Me?” He wanted to laugh at the idea of meeting another woman. A sly smile slowly formed on his face and he chuckled lowly. He gave a quick head shake, expressing his opinion on how ridiculous your question was. His fingers tapped on his biceps and leaned back slightly. You pressed your lips into a thin line. He’s dodging questions, as per usual.

“Are you seeing someone or not?” You said, completely forgetting your promise to keep things professional. You were going to get an answer out of him one way or another.

“Would you like me to be sincere?” Jing Yuan’s eyebrow raised. All of a sudden you’re more interested in his love life over the task at hand. He’s holding back his urge to tease you about being jealous. He made a mental note to do that later on.

“Yes.” You huffed out.

“Alright.” He sat up straight. His smile hadn’t wavered in the slightest. You swear this conversation is only making it get wider. “I’m waiting.”

“Waiting?” You asked, squinting your eyes. That was the most believable answer he managed to come up with? “Waiting for what?” Clearly he wasn’t giving any context because he wanted you to pry. Was he waiting for the right woman?

He chuckled again. His arms dropped and he reached over for the teapot. He carefully began to pour tea into the second empty cup to his desired amount. The General set the teapot back down. He grabbed his cup and brought it up to his mouth, staring into it.

“For you to realize that you’re still in love with me.” Jing Yuan said, taking a brief pause between his sentences. He looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, “And then you’ll make me yours again.”

That… wasn’t what you were expecting. He can tell he caught you off guard. What do you respond to that?

“It’s been three years, Jing Yuan.” Your mood suddenly shifted as you glance away. He can’t pinpoint what you’re feeling. Did you realize you’re still in love with him? Are you saddened at the fact he’s doing this to himself? He knew when to be stubborn and staying out of relationships because he wanted no one but you was definitely one of them. “And it’s all in the past. There’s no use in dwelling on it.”

“You can say our love is in the past all you want,” You hear a creak from the wooden bench. Out of your peripheral vision, you caught Jing Yuan inching closer to you and not trying to be sneaky about it at all. Once again, his actions make you send a glare his way. “But you can never get rid of it.”

His smile tells you everything you need to know. He’s serious.

Serious and delusional, you thought to yourself. Jing Yuan truly believes your heart is still his. And if you weren’t already aware, his heart never stopped being yours. A groan came from your end and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I’m not dealing with this.” You clicked your tongue, standing up from your spot. You dropped the documents on the table, snatching your phone off it and walking around. Jing Yuan struck a nerve. That’s why you hate that his antics haven’t changed.

You were making your way to the first set of stairs when his voice called out after you.

“I know you better than you think. You’re still in love with me.” His statement made you come to an abrupt stop. Your head whipped around, glaring at him and his stupid accusations. His eyes met yours again and he took a sip from his tea. Your annoyed face brought him some amusement. It reminded him of your early stages of attraction and as if you were starting anew. “Deny it, if you wish. But once you come to terms with the truth, I’ll be waiting for you.”

“You’re more arrogant than I thought.” You said, turning your body around to face him.

“And you’re still in love with me.” Jing Yuan repeated. His tone is flowing with confidence. He placed the teacup down on the table, making sure it wasn’t near any important documents. The last thing he needed was to ruin them because he wanted to flirt with his ex again.

“No, I am not.” Your eyes narrowed at him. It’s pointless to argue with him. He’s getting the reaction that he wanted from the very beginning. His smile morphed into his signature smirk.

“Yes, you are.” He said.

“No, I am not.” You put more emphasis on the sentence this time. He chuckled. He’s tempted to say it again but the argument wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t you think this back and forth is a bit childish, my dear?” Jing Yuan tilted his head to the side. His long white hair fell over his shoulders. He shows no signs of stopping any time soon. If you stay longer, his comments were going to revert back to the early days of your relationship. “I say we’ve already made it to the point where we kiss and make up.”

Forget that, he’s already saying them.

“The only thing you’ll be making up is a plan on how to deal with all those mara—struck!” You spun on your heel again. Jing Yuan’s laughter is heard after holding it in. You walk down the first set of stairs, raising your arm in the air and holding up your pointer finger. “I’ll be back soon and I want that plan, Jing Yuan!”

The General is left satisfied. He’s watching you leave the Seat of Divine Foresight, leaving him alone in his office he rarely spends his time at.

You could say that Jing Yuan is a one of a kind man. But he knows that he can be replaced by a man stronger than him, more attractive than him, and kinder than him. As the Nameless from the Express once said, the galaxy is vast beyond compare. There were many places and people you’d never meet in your lifetime. So if you did go looking for this pretend man who was better than Jing Yuan, you’d find him.

But from Jing Yuan’s point of view when it came to you? No woman could ever dream about replacing you.

[pretzel-box]

I need Sebastian's reaction to some divers flashing little octo boy🙏🏼🙏🏼

SQUIDDLE ME THAT

words: 2,1k

tags: octopus hybrid reader, platonic relationship with sebastian, sebastian gets protective

authors note: I wrote the part before the flashing scene yesterday and had to add your request at the end, hope you don't mind some extra content!

Having a little octopus hybrid running loose was a challenge on its own. God forbid that Sebastian take his three eyes off you for even a second—you'd either wilt from loneliness or start creating a mess in a bid to reclaim his attention.

One such instance involved you folding his newly sorted files into funny little paper boats, which you then gently rocked over a random puddle that had started to develop in the corner of his shop. The first time you did this, Sebastian was initially impressed that you'd found something to do on your own. He even joined in, taking a sheet of printed paper and folding it into a rather shoddy boat, chuckling until he realized—these were his important assets!

Sebastian learned quickly from that incident. He made it his mission to keep you occupied, providing you with paper and pencils to draw pictures instead. Soon, his shop was filled with your artwork, pinned up on every wall. He couldn’t help but find your efforts endearing—most of your drawings were of the two of you, and they filled his heart with a warmth he wasn't accustomed to feeling.

“You know, I think you're starting to develop an eye for ar—” Sebastian began to say, but as he turned around, you were gone. You had simply vanished from sight. However, the trail of suction-cup marks on the floor was a clear indicator that you'd slipped through the vent and were now somewhere outside the shop.

Panic surged through him as he quickly made his way out, calling your name and checking every room. You were small and had a short attention span—surely, you couldn’t have gotten far.

And then he saw it. You were standing face-to-face with a Squiddle. The scene was bizarre: the Squid Monster hovered slightly above the ground, its ‘eyes’ locked onto you with what could only be described as confusion. You, on the other hand, were trying to mimic the creature, leaping up and attempting to hover in the air, only to be defeated by gravity each time.

Sebastian froze for a moment, his panic shifting to a mix of concern and disbelief. The Squiddle seemed more perplexed than hostile, perhaps unsure of what to make of this smaller, more enthusiastic "squid" that was now mimicking its every move. You, in your innocent curiosity, were completely absorbed in your game of imitation, oblivious to the potential danger.

Sebastian approached cautiously, not wanting to startle either of you. “Hey, buddy,” he called softly, trying to get your attention without alarming the Squiddle. “What are you doing over there?”

You turned to him, eyes wide and full of excitement, as if proud of your new friend. Sebastian's heart skipped a beat seeing how happy you were, but he knew he had to get you away from the creature before anything went wrong.

“Come on,” he coaxed, holding out his hand. “Let’s leave the big guy alone, okay? We’ve got plenty of drawing to do back at the shop.”

Reluctantly, you took his hand, casting one last curious glance at the Squiddle before allowing Sebastian to lead you away. The creature watched you go, still floating in place, before it finally drifted off, no longer interested in the odd encounter.

Back at the shop, Sebastian let out a deep sigh of relief. He knelt down to your level, ruffling the top of your head gently. “You’ve really got a knack for finding trouble, you know that?”

You gave him a sheepish grin, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “Alright, how about we stick to drawing for a while, huh? Maybe we can work on some more pictures of us. Just... let’s keep the paper boats on hold for now, okay?”

You nodded eagerly, and Sebastian led you back inside, silently vowing to keep an even closer eye on you from now on.

Sebastian! You there?” a male voice called out as a customer clambered through the vent. Sebastian, already familiar with the type of people who usually wandered into his shop—rude pricks deserving their prison sentences—acted quickly. Without a second thought, he wrapped you in a blanket and gently but hurriedly stuffed you into a spacious locker, hiding you from the potentially mean human.

“Ah, welcome~” he greeted the customer with an air of nonchalance, shifting into his usual role as a shopkeeper. He led the man through a small conversation, maintaining his outward calm even though his thoughts were with you.

Meanwhile, inside the locker, you pressed your arms and tentacles against the metal walls, trying to push your way back to Sebastian. The dark, cramped space fueled a growing sense of anxiety. You didn’t understand why he’d suddenly hidden you away like this. Did you do something wrong? Did he stop liking you?

Fear and confusion spiraled in your little head until they became too much to bear. The only logical response, as far as you were concerned, was to scream. Tears streamed down your face as you wailed loudly, feeling abandoned and terrified. The darkness was cold, and being alone felt like the worst punishment imaginable.

Sebastian, who was busy trying to offload some junk onto the prisoner, froze when your piercing scream cut through the conversation. The customer blinked in surprise, glancing toward the sound. “What the hell was that?”

Sebastian’s mind raced as he tried to think of a plausible excuse. “Uh, faulty alarm system,” he lied, forcing a smile. “This place is falling apart, you know? I’ll get it fixed. Now, about that flashlight you were interested in…”

But the scream came again, louder this time, filled with pure distress. Sebastian’s heart clenched with guilt. The customer raised an eyebrow but seemed more annoyed than concerned. “You might want to take care of that. Sounds like something’s dying in there.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll handle it,” Sebastian muttered, barely containing his irritation as he hurried the man toward the exit. “Thanks for stopping by, and don’t forget to tell your non-existing friends about the shop!”

As soon as the customer was out of sight, Sebastian practically “sprinted” back to the locker. Your cries were breaking his heart—he hadn’t meant to scare you, but in his haste to protect you, he’d overlooked how you’d feel being stuffed in there.

He flung the locker door open and immediately pulled you out, wrapping you in his arms. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, holding you close as you continued to sob. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You clung to him desperately, burying your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. Sebastian felt like the worst person in the world for making you feel this way. “I was just trying to keep you safe,” he explained softly, rubbing your back in soothing circles. “I didn’t want that guy to see you. But I shouldn’t have locked you up like that. I’m sorry.”

Gradually, your sobs began to quiet, though you still held onto him tightly, afraid he might push you away again. Sebastian continued to whisper apologies and reassurances, promising that he would never do something like that again.

Finally, you lifted your head, looking at him with tear-streaked eyes. “You’re okay,” he said gently, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you.”

Your grip on him tightened, and Sebastian could feel the tremble in your small body slowly subside. He stood there for a long moment, holding you close, letting you know through his actions that you were safe and loved.

After a while, he carried you over to a cushioned seat, sitting down with you still wrapped in his arms. “You’re my little partner, okay?” he said, his voice softer than usual. “I’m always going to take care of you. Just… no more screaming like that, alright? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

You nodded weakly, sniffling but feeling a bit better now that you were back in his comforting embrace. Sebastian gave a small, relieved smile, brushing your hair away from your face. “That’s better,” he said, rocking you gently. “Let’s just stay here for a while. No more hiding, I promise.”

——

It was an unusually busy day in the shop, with a steady stream of prisoners coming through the vents, all of them more obnoxious than the last. Sebastian had been on edge, keeping a close eye on you as you busied yourself with drawing on a scrap of paper behind some boxes to hide you out of the sight from the visitors. He didn’t want a repeat of the locker incident, so he made sure you were always within arm’s reach.

But even Sebastian couldn’t anticipate everything.

As a particularly rough-looking prisoner stomped into the shop, his eyes darting around suspiciously, you instinctively curled a little closer to Sebastian. The man was big, with a scarred face and a sneer that made your skin crawl. Sebastian noticed your discomfort and subtly shifted his body to block the prisoner’s view of you.

“What do you want?” Sebastian asked, his tone curt and to the point.

The prisoner didn’t answer right away, his gaze flicking over the various items on the shelves. “Just browsing,” he muttered, though there was a malicious glint in his eyes that set off alarm bells in Sebastian’s head.

Sebastian’s grip tightened on the counter. “We don’t have all day. Either buy something or get out.”

The prisoner’s sneer widened, clearly enjoying the tension he was causing. As if on a whim, he suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device—a flashbeacon. Before Sebastian could react, the prisoner activated it, directing the blinding flash of light straight at you.

You let out a terrified yelp, your sensitive eyes overwhelmed by the sudden burst of light. Instinctively, you tried to shield yourself, curling up and covering your eyes with your tentacles as best as you could. But the damage was done—the intense flash had disoriented you, leaving you scared and vulnerable.

Sebastian’s protective instincts kicked in instantly. Without a second thought, he lunged forward, shoving the prisoner hard against the nearest wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he snarled, his voice dripping with fury.

The prisoner barely had time to register what was happening before Sebastian’s hand was around his throat, pinning him to the wall with a strength that belied his usually calm demeanor. “You think you can just walk in here and pull something like that?” Sebastian growled, his three eyes narrowing dangerously. “You’ve got some nerve.”

The prisoner, now realizing he’d severely miscalculated, struggled to speak, his face turning red as he choked out, “It… it was just a joke!”

Sebastian’s grip tightened, making it clear he wasn’t amused. “That ‘joke’ could have seriously hurt them,” he spat, nodding toward you. “You don’t mess with my shop, and you sure as hell don’t mess with them.”

With a final shove, Sebastian released the prisoner, who staggered back, clutching his throat and gasping for air. “Get out,” Sebastian ordered, his voice low and menacing. “And if I ever see you here again, you’ll regret it.”

The prisoner didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled for the vent, shooting one last fearful glance at Sebastian before disappearing as quickly as he’d come.

Sebastian took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger still coursing through his veins. Then he turned to you, his expression softening as he saw you huddled on the floor, still reeling from the flash.

He rushed over to you, kneeling down and gently pulling your tentacles away from your eyes. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, his heart aching at the sight of you trembling. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”

You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry, but you could see the concern etched on his face. Slowly, you uncurled from your protective ball, reaching out for him. Sebastian didn’t hesitate—he scooped you up into his arms, holding you close against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with regret. “I should’ve protected you better. But I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

You clung to him, your small body still trembling slightly, but his warmth and the steady beat of his heart began to calm you down. You knew Sebastian was strong, and as long as you were with him, you felt safe.

[shybluebirdninja]

Claws of the Heart

Summary: In a world where mutants are nearly extinct, James Logan Howlett, better known as Wolverine, has lived a long and tortured life. Now in his 200s, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, he unexpectedly finds a glimmer of light in the form of a young woman in her 30s who lives next door. Their connection is undeniable, but when a man her age starts vying for her attention, Logan's primal instincts kick in. Fueled by jealousy, he does everything he can to win her heart, even if it means battling the demons of his past.

Pairing: Oldman!James Logan Howlett x Neighbor!Fem-human reader Genre: Fluff, Angst

Logan’s boots scuffed against the gravel as he walked down the dusty road toward the small, secluded town he’d been hiding out in for the last few months. His joints ached more than usual—just another reminder that he was no longer the young, invincible Wolverine. Time had done a number on him, but he wasn’t dead yet.

He glanced up at the sound of laughter drifting from the open window of the house next door. He knew that laugh—soft, light, and it stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in years. A pang of something unfamiliar—hope, maybe? But he’d learned long ago that hope was a dangerous thing.

His gaze landed on you, the woman who’d moved in next door about six months back. You were in your early thirties, full of life, and every time you smiled at him, it knocked him off balance. Not that he’d let you know it.

He grunted to himself as he watched you chat with the guy from two houses down—Tom, or Tim, something like that. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the way he leaned in too close, how you laughed at whatever lame joke he was telling. Logan’s grip tightened on the grocery bag he was carrying. His claws itched to come out, but he pushed down the urge.

Instead, he turned and walked back to his cabin. He wasn’t going to be some lovesick puppy pining over a woman. But damn, it was hard to ignore the jealousy that flared in his chest every time he saw you with that guy.

He tossed the groceries on the counter and opened a beer, taking a long swig as he leaned against the counter, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him. You were just a woman, just a neighbor—no reason to get worked up. He tried to convince himself of that, but deep down, he knew it was a lie.

----------------------------------

Later that evening, Logan found himself sitting on his porch, the sunset casting long shadows across the yard. He heard your door creak open, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw you step outside, your gaze landing on him.

“Hey, Logan,” you called out, that sweet smile on your lips as you walked over.

“Evenin’,” Logan replied, trying to sound casual, but his heart was thudding in his chest like he’d just been in a fight.

“Whatcha doin’ out here all alone?” you asked, leaning against the porch railing, too close and not close enough at the same time.

Logan shrugged. “Just enjoyin’ the quiet.”

You smiled and sat down next to him, your leg brushing against his. He stiffened slightly but didn’t pull away. Instead, he took another swig of his beer, trying to focus on anything other than how close you were.

“So, you never really talk about yourself, Logan. What’s your story?” you asked, turning to face him.

Logan glanced at you, those big, curious eyes of yours looking right through him. He grunted, not sure how to respond. “Ain’t much to tell,” he muttered.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I don’t believe that for a second. Everyone’s got a story.”

“Not mine,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. But you didn’t flinch, just kept looking at him with that soft, patient expression that made him feel like he could actually tell you—if he wasn’t so damn scared of what you’d think.

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The next few weeks were torture for Logan. Every time he saw you with that guy, the jealousy gnawed at him like a dog with a bone. He started finding excuses to be outside more often, hoping to catch you alone, to steal just a few moments where it was just the two of you. But it seemed like every time he was about to make his move, there was that damn neighbor again, laughing with you, making you smile.

Logan’s patience snapped one afternoon when he saw you sitting on your porch, and that guy—Ted or whatever—leaned in to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. Logan was across the yard before he realized what he was doing.

“Hey,” he barked, his voice rougher than usual.

You and the guy looked up, surprised. Logan felt a grim satisfaction when he saw a flash of discomfort in the guy’s eyes.

“Logan, what’s up?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, that concerned expression making his heart squeeze.

“Just thought you might wanna come check out somethin’ I’m workin’ on,” Logan said, forcing his voice to sound casual, though the tension in his muscles betrayed him.

You glanced between the two men, then smiled. “Sure, Logan. I’ll be right there.”

The guy opened his mouth to protest, but Logan shot him a look that could’ve cut steel. Without another word, the guy mumbled something about needing to go and quickly made his exit.

Logan turned back to you, his heart still pounding, but he played it cool. “Sorry ’bout that. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You chuckled. “It’s fine, Logan. Ted was just leaving anyway.”

“Yeah, Ted. Good riddance,” Logan muttered under his breath, feeling a surge of triumph that he’d gotten rid of the guy, at least for now.

----------------------------------

As the days went by, Logan found himself spending more and more time with you. He showed you how to fix things around the house, taught you how to defend yourself—just in case, he said, though he’d be damned if he ever let anything happen to you. And slowly, bit by bit, he started opening up, sharing bits of his past, letting you see the man behind the claws.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you were sitting on the porch steps, Logan beside you. You had just finished telling him about your day, and there was a comfortable silence between you two.

“You know,” you began, glancing over at him, “I’ve never met anyone like you, Logan.”

He grunted in response, not sure what to say. Compliments weren’t something he was used to.

“I mean it,” you continued, turning to face him fully. “You’re… different. In a good way.”

Logan felt his chest tighten, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he could trust his voice. “You ain’t so bad yourself, kid,” he finally said, the words coming out softer than he intended.

You laughed, the sound sending warmth through him. “I’m not a kid, you know. I’m thirty-four.”

“Still a kid to me,” Logan said with a smirk, but there was no bite to his words.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. “And here I was thinking you might actually ask me out sometime.”

Logan blinked, caught off guard. “You want that?”

“Maybe I do,” you said, leaning in closer, your face inches from his.

Logan’s breath caught in his throat. He’d faced down some of the most dangerous foes in the world, but the thought of leaning in, of kissing you right here and now, terrified him in a way he hadn’t felt in years. But it also felt right. So he took the plunge.

He leaned in, closing the distance, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, but as you responded, it deepened, becoming something more. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, and Logan could barely believe what had just happened.

“I… uh,” Logan started, but you cut him off with another kiss, and this time, he didn’t hold back.

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After that night, Logan and you were inseparable. But Ted wasn’t done. He kept showing up, trying to win your attention back, and each time, Logan’s jealousy flared hotter. He wasn’t used to fighting for someone like this—most of the time, people just got out of his way. But you were worth it.

One day, Logan found Ted waiting by your front door, holding a bouquet of flowers. Logan’s jaw clenched as he approached, his boots heavy on the gravel. The sight of Ted standing there, grinning like an idiot, made his blood boil.

"Hey, man," Ted greeted, acting casual, like he wasn’t trying to worm his way into your life.

Logan stopped a few feet away, his eyes narrowing. "What’re you doin’ here?"

Ted shrugged, holding up the flowers. "Just thought I’d surprise her. She’s been working hard, figured she could use a little pick-me-up."

Logan felt his claws itching to pop out, but he kept them in check. He wasn’t going to lose his cool—not in front of you, not over some wannabe Romeo.

“She don’t need your flowers,” Logan growled, taking a step closer. “She’s got all the pick-me-ups she needs.”

Ted laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it. "Come on, Logan. You’re a good guy and all, but she’s not yours. You can’t just scare off every guy who shows interest."

Logan’s eyes flashed with something dark, a reminder that he wasn’t just some regular guy. "You’d be smart to back off, Ted. This ain’t a game."

Before Ted could respond, your front door opened, and you stepped out, your eyes widening when you saw the two men facing off. "Logan? Ted? What’s going on?"

Logan forced himself to relax, stepping back to give you space. "Just havin’ a chat with Ted here."

Ted quickly handed you the flowers, a sheepish grin on his face. "Hey, I just wanted to bring these by. Thought they might brighten your day."

You smiled politely, taking the flowers, but your eyes darted to Logan, who was still standing there, tense as a coiled spring. "Thanks, Ted. That’s sweet of you."

Ted beamed, but his smile faltered when he saw the way you looked at Logan. "Well, I should get going. I’ll see you around."

You nodded, and as Ted walked away, you turned to Logan, who was still glaring after him. "Logan, what was that about?"

Logan grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Nothin’. Just don’t like the way he’s always hangin’ around."

You sighed, stepping closer to him, and placing a hand on his arm. "Logan, you don’t have to worry about Ted. I’m not interested in him like that."

Logan’s eyes softened slightly as he looked at you, the tension in his shoulders easing. "You sure about that? ‘Cause it looks like he’s gonna keep tryin’."

You smiled, squeezing his arm. "I’m sure. You’re the one I want to be with."

Logan’s heart skipped a beat at your words. He wasn’t used to this—this feeling of being wanted, of being chosen. It was new and terrifying, but he couldn’t deny that it made him feel something he hadn’t in a long time.

He nodded, his voice gruff but sincere. "I’ll keep that in mind."

You leaned in, kissing him softly on the cheek, and Logan felt his resolve strengthen. He wasn’t going to let some punk like Ted get between you two. He’d fight for you, tooth and claw, if he had to.

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As the weeks passed, the tension between Logan and Ted simmered just below the surface. Ted still tried to worm his way into your life, showing up at odd hours, bringing little gifts, and always flashing that charming smile. But every time, Logan was there, watching, waiting, his jealousy growing stronger by the day.

You could sense the turmoil in Logan, even if he tried to hide it. He was rough around the edges, but you knew there was more to him than the gruff exterior he showed the world. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you—it was all so careful, so deliberate, like he was afraid you might disappear if he wasn’t careful.

One evening, as a summer storm raged outside, you found Logan sitting on your porch, his eyes lost in the rain. You stepped outside, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders, and sat down beside him.

"Babe," you said softly, placing a hand on his knee. "What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?"

Logan didn’t look at you right away. He stared out into the storm, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. "Just thinkin’," he finally muttered, his voice barely audible over the rain.

"About Ted?" you asked, knowing the answer.

Logan grunted in response, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "’Bout a lot of things."

You moved closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "Talk to me, babe. I can’t help if you keep everything bottled up."

Logan sighed, his rough exterior cracking just a bit. "I don’t like him hangin’ around you, okay? Every time I see him, it’s like this… this beast inside me just wants to tear him apart."

You blinked, surprised by the raw honesty in his words. "Logan…"

He turned to look at you, his eyes dark and intense. "I’ve done a lotta things in my life I ain’t proud of. Seen things, lost people… I don’t want to lose you, too. But every time I see you with him, it’s like… I dunno, like I’m gonna lose somethin’ important. And it scares the hell outta me."

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his stubbled cheeks. "You’re not gonna lose me, babe. I’m here, and I’m not goin’ anywhere. But you gotta trust me, okay? Trust that I know what I want."

Logan swallowed hard, nodding slightly. "I trust you, darlin’. It’s me I don’t trust."

You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him, and Logan melted into the touch, the storm outside forgotten as he wrapped his arms around you. For the first time in years, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be alone anymore.

----------------------------------

The next day, Logan was out back, chopping wood to burn off some of the restless energy that had been plaguing him. The sound of the axe hitting the wood was rhythmic, almost meditative, but his thoughts were anything but calm.

Ted showed up again, this time strolling right into Logan’s yard like he owned the place. Logan didn’t stop what he was doing, but he didn’t have to—Ted came right up to him, hands shoved in his pockets, a cocky smirk on his face.

"Hey, Logan," Ted said, his tone too casual for Logan’s liking. "We need to talk."

Logan paused mid-swing, the axe hovering in the air. "’Bout what?"

"About her," Ted replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Look, man, I get it. You’ve got this whole rough, mysterious vibe going on, but let’s be real—how long do you think you can keep her interested? She’s young, full of life. You… well, you’re not exactly a spring chicken, are you?"

Logan’s grip tightened on the axe handle, his knuckles turning white. He lowered the axe slowly, turning to face Ted fully. "You tryin’ to start somethin’, kid?"

Ted held up his hands in mock surrender. "Not at all. I’m just sayin’, maybe it’s time you stepped aside. Let her have a shot at something real, something that’s not tied down by… whatever you got goin’ on."

Logan’s claws itched to come out, but he held them back, forcing himself to stay calm. "You don’t know a damn thing about me, or what she wants."

"Maybe not," Ted admitted, his smirk widening. "But I know what I see. And what I see is a man who’s past his prime, holding onto something he can’t keep."

Logan took a step forward, his eyes darkening with barely controlled rage. "You keep pushin’, and you’ll see just how much fight I got left in me."

Ted’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "Look, I’m not here to fight. I’m here to give you a choice—step aside, or I’ll make sure you regret not doing it."

Logan’s lips curled into a snarl, his claws itching to break free, but he knew better. As much as he wanted to tear Ted apart, he knew that wasn’t the answer. Instead, he took a deep breath, forcing the rage back down. "You ever come near her again, I won’t be responsible for what happens next."

Ted’s eyes flashed with something—fear, maybe—but he quickly masked it with a cocky grin. "We’ll see about that, old man."

With that, Ted turned and walked away, leaving Logan standing there, his heart pounding with anger and frustration. He knew he had to do something, but the question was, how far was he willing to go to keep you safe?

----------------------------------

That evening, Logan found you sitting on your porch, the soft glow of the setting sun casting a warm light over your face. You smiled when you saw him, but your smile faltered slightly when you noticed the tension in his eyes. Logan sat down beside you, his usual stoic expression replaced by something deeper, more troubled. You could tell he had something on his mind.

"Babe," you began softly, reaching for his hand. "What’s wrong? You’ve been distant all day."

Logan took a deep breath, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. He wasn’t sure how to start, but he knew he couldn’t keep this from you any longer. "Ted came by earlier," he said, his voice low.

You frowned, concern knitting your brows together. "What did he want?"

Logan’s jaw tightened as he recalled the conversation. "He thinks I should step aside. That I’m not what you need."

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that. "Step aside? Babe, that’s ridiculous. What did you say?"

Logan looked away, staring out at the horizon. "I told him to back off. But… part of me wonders if he’s right."

You were taken aback by his words. "Babe, how can you even think that? You’re everything I need. You’re strong, caring, and… you make me feel safe."

Logan shook his head, a bitter chuckle escaping him. "Safe, huh? I’m anything but safe. I got a past full of blood and regret. I’m not the kind of guy who’s good for someone like you."

You squeezed his hand tighter, not willing to let him pull away. "I don’t care about your past, Logan. I care about who you are now, and who you are to me. Ted doesn’t know you—he doesn’t know us. And I’m not going to let him or anyone else decide what’s right for me."

Logan turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. But all he saw was the sincerity in your gaze, the unwavering belief that he was worth fighting for. It stirred something deep within him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time—hope.

"But what if he’s right?" Logan asked, his voice barely a whisper. "What if I’m just foolin’ myself, thinking I can have somethin’ good without it all fallin’ apart?"

You leaned in closer, your other hand coming up to cradle his face. "Logan, life isn’t about being perfect or having all the answers. It’s about making choices, and I’ve chosen you. I want to be with you, and I’m not afraid of what that means. We’ll figure it out together, no matter what."

Logan’s breath hitched as he felt the weight of your words. It wasn’t just about Ted, or his past, or the fears that haunted him. It was about trust—trusting you, trusting himself, and trusting that maybe, just maybe, he could have something good for once in his life.

He nodded slowly, his eyes softening as he leaned his forehead against yours. "I don’t deserve you, but I’m not gonna let you go."

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Good. Because I’m not going anywhere."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in twilight, Logan felt a sense of peace wash over him. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just surviving—he was living.

----------------------------------

The next day, you decided it was time to put an end to Ted’s advances once and for all. You couldn’t let him continue to disrupt the peace you and Logan had fought so hard to build. You called Ted, asking him to meet you at a local café, a public place where you could have a conversation without the threat of things getting out of hand.

Ted arrived, all smiles, clearly thinking that you’d finally come to your senses. But when he saw the serious expression on your face, his grin faltered.

“Hey,” he greeted, trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”

You didn’t waste any time getting to the point. “Ted, we need to talk about this… whatever this is.”

Ted sat down across from you, his expression growing more serious. “Okay, I’m listening.”

You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “I appreciate the attention, I do. But this has to stop. I’m with Logan, and that’s not going to change.”

Ted’s eyes darkened slightly, but he kept his tone light. “You don’t have to be. You deserve better, someone who can give you a normal life. Logan… he’s dangerous.”

You shook your head, not letting his words shake you. “Logan isn’t dangerous to me. He’s been through a lot, but that doesn’t change who he is—who he is to me. I care about him, Ted. This isn’t something you can just talk me out of.”

Ted leaned forward, a desperate edge creeping into his voice. “But why him? You could have anyone, someone who can give you a future, a family…”

You sighed, feeling a pang of pity for Ted. He didn’t understand—he couldn’t. “Ted, you’re a good guy, but you’re not the one I want. I’m sorry if that hurts, but it’s the truth.”

Ted’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. “So that’s it? You’re just going to throw away a chance at something real for a guy like him?”

You stood up, your decision firm. “I’ve already got something real, Ted. And I’m not going to throw it away.”

Ted watched as you turned to leave, a storm of emotions playing across his face. But you didn’t look back. You had made your choice, and there was no room for doubt.

----------------------------------

When you returned home, Logan was waiting for you, a mix of anxiety and hope in his eyes. “How’d it go?”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him. “It’s over. I told him I’m with you, and that’s not going to change.”

Logan exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief flooding through him. “You sure he got the message?”

You nodded, resting your head against his chest. “Yeah, I’m sure. He won’t bother us again.”

Logan’s arms tightened around you, holding you close. “Thank you, darlin’. For choosing me.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I didn’t just choose you, Logan. I chose us. And I’m not letting go.”

Logan leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow, tender, and full of all the things he couldn’t put into words. In that moment, all the doubts, the fears, the what-ifs—they all melted away, leaving only the two of you and the life you were building together.

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Years passed, and the love between you and Logan only grew stronger. You faced challenges together, fought battles side by side, and through it all, you never wavered in your commitment to one another. Logan learned to let go of the guilt and pain that had haunted him for so long, finding peace in the life you shared.

And as you sat together on your porch, watching the sunset, you knew that this was where you were meant to be. With Logan by your side, you felt complete, knowing that no matter what the future held, you would face it together.

Because in the end, love wasn’t about finding someone who was perfect. It was about finding someone who made you feel like you were worth fighting for—someone who made you feel alive. And that was exactly what you had found in Logan. You leaned into Logan’s embrace, feeling his warmth surround you. And in that moment, you knew that you had found a love that would endure, a love that would last a lifetime.

[sweetbans29]

Child - PB

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Summary: HC of Paige as Mom (based on THIS request)

Warnings: none that I can think of :)

Word Count: 1.6k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: If it is not obvious, it is set in the future. I am thinking mid-20s for her.

Paige would be both terrified and ecstatic when the two of you bring home your little one for the first time. I mean, the girl would be working around the house nonstop for the weeks leading up to your due date and made sure everything was safe for you and your little one.

"Paige?" You ask, sleep evident in your voice. When you woke up in the middle of the night to find that you were alone (and had to pee) you got up. After using the restroom, you began your search for your other half. You checked all the normal places she would usually be when she couldn't sleep but had no luck. "Baby?" You ask heading into the nursery to find Paige struggling with the crib. The second you lay eyes on her, you can see the frustration radiating off of her. Paige doesn't hear you waddle in and lets out a groan. She had been trying to figure out this one side of your daughters crib for about 45 minutes now. She jumps when she feels hands on her shoulders. "Baby, come back to bed," you say lightly. "Need to finish this," Paige puffs and you know it's not true. You begin to rub her shoulders. "Please," you say Paige keeps working on the crib. "Baby, come back to bed," you say no longer requesting but demanding. "Gotta finish," Paige says. You stand there for a second and look at Paige clearly making no progress. Normally this would bug you but being so tired, you really just want to her back in bed with you. "Why do you need to finish tonight?" You ask your wife. Paige's hands finally settle as her shoulders slump. She turns so she is facing you now, her head resting on your little girls bump. "Everything needs to be perfect for her," Paige whispers. Your hands come to rest on her head as you smooth her hair over. "It will be," you say. "But you know what won't be perfect? You, if you don't come back to bed with me." Paige kisses your bump then make a move to stand. It was her way of saying you are right without having to say a word. You kiss her lips softly as you grab her hand and lead her back to your shared bed. Once you are comfortable again with Paige next to you, you are finally content. "Everything will be perfect because she has you as her mom. You may not think it is perfect, but it will be because you are you," you say as sleep overtakes you again. Paige inches closer to you and you inch away. "Too hot," you mutter practically asleep. Paige lets out a little laugh because of course you would go to find her in the middle of the night and force her back to bed only to not cuddle her. But she couldn't be mad, she could never be mad at you.

Paige would never want to leave Mia's side. Paige was always more than willing to be the one to change Mia or grab her from her naps. The two of them had become the best of friends.

You and Paige are on the couch when Mia begins to cry. Paige immediately shoots up and goes over to Mia and picks her up. "Shhhhh," she says softly. "I got you baby, Mommy's got you." You watch as Paige consoles your 3-month old baby girl and you can't help but smile. Paige rocks Mia as she begins to settle. You don't know how Paige did it but Mia loves her. Paige has the ability to calm Mia down every time as she knows exactly what she wants. Paige comes to sit down next to you with Mia in her arms. Mia's eyes are wide open as she is just looking up at Paige. "She loves you so much," you say as you watch Mia watch Paige. Paige leans in to rub her nose to Mia's which causes Mia to blink and smile. "She loves me because she takes after her mom, who I happen to know loves me more than anyone else," Paige says and your smile widens. "I don't know about that," you say teasing your wife. Her head shoots up to look at you. "What?" She says offended that you didn't immediately say that she was the person you loved most. Your eyes never leave Mia and Paige knows. "Fine, I guess I am okay with sharing you with Mia," Paige says dramatically. It is now your turn to look at Paige. "Let's be real, if it came down to it we would both choose Mia," you say. Paige kisses Mia's head. "Mommy's right, you have all of our love, don't you?" Paige says to Mia. "And that is never going to change baby."

Once Mia a toddler, Paige already has a basketball in her hands. That only increases as Mia continues to grow. It is when Mia is three when Paige starts taking her onto the court during games.

"Mia!" Hailey says as she comes over and crouches down in front of the little girl. Mia waddles over to Hailey with a smile. Hailey has a basketball in her hands that she put down to see Mia - Mia being Paige's daughter ignores Hailey and goes for the basketball. "Well, I tried," Hailey says letting Mia carry the ball. Paige laughs. "That's my girl," Paige says as Mia brings Paige the basketball. Mia has a giant smile on her face as she throws the ball at Paige. It wasn't uncommon for for Paige and Mia to pass a basketball back and forth. It was actually a very common occurrence in your home and if anyone asked you, you wouldn't be able to tell them who loved it more, Paige or Mia. Paige bounces the ball back to Mia who catches it and starts to walk around. "She's already got some handle," Hailey says. "Of course she does, do you know who her mother is?" Paige says proudly. Hailey answers with your name. "Hey!" Paige says pushing her teammate. Hailey laughs and Paige picks Mia up. "You take after me don't you?" Paige asks Mia and Mia nods without really know whats going on. Mia points to the hoop and Paige knows exactly what that means. Paige sets Mia down and holds her hands out for Mia to pass her the ball. Mia throws the ball to Paige and she drains the three. Mia claps and walks back over to her asking to be picked up. Paige picks her up and walks over to you on the sideline. The second Mia sees you, she has her arms stretched out for you. As much as Mia loves Paige, she also loves you. "Hi baby girl," you say as you take Mia back from Paige. "Did you have fun with mommy?" Mia nods and yells 'yes'. "Did mommy have fun?" You ask Paige as Paige kisses the top of your head. "She always does," Paige says as her arm snakes around your waist. "Great game mommy," you say to Paige. "Ehh, could have been better," Paige says and you roll your eyes. Paige had a solid double-double and shot above her average. It was a good game for her. "Whatever you say," you say. "Mia, you want to come with Mommy to the pressor?" Paige asks, knowing she has no idea what that means but knows it will be with her. Mia nods and you pass your little one back to Paige. "She is all yours," you say and Paige leans over to give you a quick peck. "We will see you soon, wave bye to mommy," Paige says and Mia waves at you. You smile at your family and wave back.

As your daughter grows up, Paige makes it a point to always spend time with her especially with how crazy her schedule can be with playing in the W. It doesn't matter how tired Paige may be, when she has time at home, she is spending it with you and Mia. You don't know how she does it.

You look at the clock and see that you have been without Paige for quite some time. When Paige was home at night, she always insisted on doing Mia's bedtime routine. You get up and go look for your wife. You walk into Mia's room to find Mia sleeping in Paige's arms as she is in the same sleeping pose as Paige. You can't help but smile and snap a photo of the two before coming over and grabbing Mia out of Paige's arms. Paige stirs just as you have Mia completely out of her arms. "Mmm, what's happening?" Paige asks, voice thick with sleep. "Don't worry babe," you say as you put a sleeping Mia down carefully. Paige is now standing and rubbing her eyes. She reaches out her hand for you which you gladly take. Leading Paige to your bedroom, she plops on the bed and you crawl up next to her. Paige snakes her arm around your waist as her head finds your shoulder. You and Paige would always fight over who got to be the little spoon and she often won the battle. You rub her back as you feel her sigh. "How you doing momma?" You ask her. "Mmm tired,' she says. "You have been doing it all," you tell her. "Our superstar." "Just want to be Paige," she mutters as a giggle escapes your lips. You kiss her head and whisper an 'I love you'. Paige mutters it back to you as the two of you fall asleep the same way you did while in college.

AN: Paige as mom is something else - she would be the literal best mom. That is just my opinion - it is giving me Stewie mom vibes, let me now what you think. And as always, thank you for your love and support 💙

[jgracie]

I WANT IT ALL

masterlist | rules

❝ hellooo !! i absolutely in love with your works !! may i request percy with the song “i want it” all by lana del rey, specially this part of the lyrics：“do you think you'll kill for me one day?" ／ “yes of course I will, my darling” ? perhaps a mention of dark percy ? 😋 ❞ — 🦇

in which percy would kill for you one day

pairing slightly dark!percy jackson x reader

warnings house of hades spoilers? that’s when this is set, violence (percy bloodbends)

on the radio . . . i want it all (lana del rey)

After experiencing Tartarus together, you couldn’t help but notice how Percy changed. He used to always be able to crack a joke, even at the worst of situations, lightening the mood and raising your spirits. However, now he’s more… serious. Tartarus seemed to harden him up - his eyes, once a bright aquamarine colour, were now of a dark blue-green hue, like the depths of the ocean that even Poseidon wouldn’t venture

You still loved him with all of your heart. He was your precious boyfriend, after all. And besides, you probably changed a lot too after that. Anyone would if they were forced to hallucinate their boyfriend abandoning them like you did. The image the Arai had planted in your head that day, a curse sent your way by a girl you didn’t even know, haunted you. You never wanted to feel that alone and isolated again

Percy knew this. It was part of the reason why he became more protective, more territorial. Watching you wander Tartarus aimlessly, your voice cracking as you begged for his touch and being able to do nothing about it shattered his heart. After that experience, he vowed to never let you out of his sight 

The other members of the Argo II could tell that something had changed between you, too. However, they kept a safe distance, not wanting to interfere in case they made it worse, unable to even fathom what you must’ve gone through in Tartarus

For the most part, though, your relationship was good. Other than the nightmares and protectiveness, the two of you stayed the same iconic couple you are, and as time progressed, Percy felt himself becoming more relaxed, no longer needing to be by your side every second of every day

That was until the ship got attacked. You’d been having a couple days of pretty safe travel ever since you got out of Tartarus, and while you did enjoy simply being able to catch up with all your friends on a boat in the ocean, you should’ve known that something would come along to ruin this for you

It was early in the morning, and you were on watch duty along with Leo, who was manning the ship whilst adding some updates to Festus. The salty air made you think of Percy, and you found yourself suddenly longing for his touch, knowing how much he’d enjoy watching the sun rise over the horizon

“You can go get Percy if you want, Y/N, I’ll be fine here,” Leo mumbled. For someone who claims he’s better at understanding machines than people, he sure was good at reading your mind. Recently, you noticed he’d also been acting differently. According to Hazel, he found a girl he loved (NOT calypso guys don’t worry 🩷) while he’d gone missing, but for some reason he couldn’t bring her with him

You thanked him and were about to make your way to your boyfriend’s room when you suddenly heard a voice yell, “I will take revenge on you, wretched son of Poseidon!” You turned, finding yourself face-to-face with none other than the bane of Poseidon, Polybotes

“You think you can just leave Tartarus as you please? I, Polybotes, will make you pay!” The giant continued. Your feet seemed to be cemented to the ground as you stared at the giant, mouth open in a mix of shock and fear. He was supposed to be in Tartarus, how could he possibly get here? Of course you couldn’t have a moment of peace. Why were you stupid enough to think that maybe, just maybe, you could relax until actually having to fight Gaia herself? 

“Y/N, look out!” Leo yelled, pulling you out of your trance. But it was too late. The giant picked you up, his nails digging into your back, forming crescent shaped gashes. Your nose scrunched at the smell of him as he took a good look at you before laughing (his breath smelled even worse. You had to fight the urge to vomit all over him)

Tears welled up in your eyes. You were completely helpless, with no weapon on you and your limbs still aching from your time in Tartarus. This was it. This is how you’d die. The giant was squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe, black spots beginning to obscure your vision. You sent a quick prayer to your godly parent, asking them to keep your friends safe on the rest of this quest, before you succumbed to the darkness

The last thing you remember seeing is a flash of bright blue - the ocean

“Thank Gods you’re awake! We’re all so worried about you!” Hazel exclaimed as soon as your eyes were open. Looking around, you noticed you were in the makeshift infirmary section of the ship, bruises littering your body

You turned to face Hazel, your eyebrows furrowed, “what… happened?” You asked, trying to push your memories of the incident with Polybotes to the front of your mind, but ending up with nothing, “I remember I was captured by that giant, then I saw the water move, then… nothing.”

Hazel was suddenly incapable of holding eye contact with you, unsure if she should tell you what happened or not. In the end, she decided on the former, knowing you’d pull it out of Percy eventually if you had to

“The water moving was Percy’s doing. We all showed up after hearing the commotion and when he saw you in Polybotes’ clutches he went… kind of crazy. I’d never seen him like this before, Y/N, it was a little scary. He willed the water to move him up to Polybotes’ height and demanded he let you go. When he didn’t…” Hazel stopped for a second, shuddering. What did Percy do? After seeing the way he handled Akhlys in Tartarus, you knew there was a side of him that he kept buried deep inside. Did it come out again?

You placed a gentle hand on Hazel’s, giving her a kind smile which willed her to continue, “he started controlling Polybotes’ blood… he made him choke on his own blood, Y/N, we’ve been spending the past five hours cleaning that up.”

At the sound of voices coming out of the infirmary, Percy barged in, nodding at Hazel before holding you tightly in his arms. You hugged back, glad to see that he was okay. Smiling at both of you, Hazel waved goodbye and left, knowing you two needed a moment alone

“Hazel told me what happened,” you said once Percy pulled away, still keeping your hand in his. At this, he looked at the ground in shame, remembering how much his treatment of Akhlys had scared you in Tartarus

Rubbing circles into your hand, he said, “I’m sorry, Y/N, my fear and anger got the better of me. I don’t ever want to lose you, you’re literally my soulmate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. Feeling your face become warmer as a bright smile made its way onto your lips, you said, “it’s alright, Percy. Thank you for saving me. I genuinely thought I was going to die then.” At this, Percy’s brows furrowed and the grip he had on your hand tightened

An aura of power exuded from your boyfriend, and when he said, “you wouldn’t die, not with me here. I’d kill for you, baby, you understand that, right?” You knew he meant it. If giants didn’t have to be defeated by both Gods and demigods working together, Polybotes would definitely be a mere pile of dust in Tartarus right now

[unsolvedjarin]

just you wait sunshine.

pairing: (sebastian vettel x driver! reader)

summary: sebastian’s retirement has led him to reminisce his past life and mistakes, including you. little does he know, the universe is about to give him a second chance via a small bookstore in switzerland.

note: this went on WAYYY longer than i wanted it to be and it didn’t really go the direction i wanted either, but we move

content warning: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, more sebastian centric than reader centric tbh (sorry i just love him so much)

word count: 3.7k

Retirement had been good to Sebastian.

He’d finally been able to spend time in his farm house, plant some trees, grow a garden, and along with all that, still have time to drive cars whenever an event needed him to. It was like his entire life schedule magically cleared up in front of him.

He missed racing of course, he won’t pretend that he didn’t. After all, he spent 15 years in the sport, it was his pride and joy for quite a long time. But that time of his life is over, he’s accepted that. He wanted to enjoy the other things in life instead, be able to see and experience things that the busy life of being a driver didn’t let him experience.

Sitting on a chair in his porch watching the sun set, he reflects on what he could have done differently. Who he could have treated differently. And when only one name enters his mind, the same one that’s haunted him for the past 5 years, he sighs reluctantly and heads back inside to prepare his dinner.

—

2012

“What do you wanna do when you grow up?”

The question takes you by surprise as you take another swig of your beer. The moon shone brightly on the porch of whatever airbnb your team had set you up at, and the stars were sparkling like they had never before.

“What kind of question is that, Sebby?” you giggle. “Isn’t this what we’re gonna do for eternity? Racing?”

Sebastian shrugs, looking up at the sky on his foldable chair that you had brought on the trip. “Yeah but after that, you know? I’ve always thought about what my life will be like after retirement.”

“Okay old man, because you’re sooo close to retiring,” you tease. He gives you a playful light shove for that, smiling as he does. The air feels freer and lighter than it ever has before.

“But seriously,” Sebastian chuckled. “Have you ever thought about it?”

You ponder for a second before replying, “No, not really. I mean my career’s just starting, I haven’t really thought about the end. But when I do retire, I think I’d like to be a writer.”

“Like those egotistical types to make a biographical book about themselves?” Sebastian asks, earning a laugh from you. The sound made him feel things that he’d only ever felt before with you.

“God no,” you laugh out. “I don’t wanna be like those old blokes who get obsessed with themselves after they retire. I just wanna write fictional books, maybe under a pen name. Just a simple life; me, my theoretical dog, and my theoretical book.”

Sebastian nods with an understanding look in his eye. He wants that life too. A simple one, away from the public. Even now at his young age, the paparazzis and press were getting annoying quickly.

“I want to live in a house far away from the city,” he says. “Maybe the suburbs— no that’s too near…a farm! I’ll live in a farmhouse.”

You smile at the thought of Sebastian Vettel, two time Formula 1 world champion, just lounging about in a farm tending to his animals and crops.

“Wouldn’t it get boring? Or lonely? Milking your cows alone?”

He answers you with no delay, “Well I’d want you to be with me of course.”

You thanked whatever higher power was listening at that time that he couldn’t see how your blush formed over the darkness of the night. Regaining your sense of self, you reply, “What makes you think I’d want to go with you?”

“Wouldn’t you?” he asks genuinely. “You could write your books inside while I…I don’t know what type of farm I’ll make, exactly. But I’ll be tending to that and you can write your books with your theoretical dog.”

“It’ll be our theoretical dog, then.”

Sebastian replied with a soft smile, “Ours, then.”

—

He had settled on bees. Having a bee farmhouse. It wasn’t easy work, it was definitely more complicated than milking a cow like you had said, but it made him happy, and it made him content.

Well, as content as he could be.

You had your first kiss that night, Sebastian recalled. He remembers because even though you didn’t think it, he could see the red blush dusted lightly on your cheeks, a sign he made the right choice leaning in and making his move.

Preparing his dinner for one in his cozy yet lonely farm house, he realizes he could have had this all with you. If he had just been more kind and if you had forgiven him, you could have had all of this together. A life that both of you had always wanted.

—

2018

“Sebastian, I’m not asking you to retire or something, I’m just asking you to take a break, please,” you beg. He remembers your exasperated voice as clear as day.

“I can’t take a break, Y/N, you don't understand. If I don’t get at least podium in this race, that's it, my career is basically over.”

Scoffing, you replied, “Your career isn’t over just like that, you’ve still got another year with Ferrari for christ’s sake.”

“You wouldn’t get it,” he mumbled, opting to turn away from you and put on his racing gear instead.

He’d been distant the whole season, the tension between the two of you increasing and increasing that finally it just snapped this race weekend. He’d been icing you out, acting like you didn’t exist because he was ‘practicing for the races ahead.’

At first you understood, you were a driver too. You recognized the difficulty of always losing race after race, how after a while it took a toll on your mental wellbeing. So you gave him space.

Then, when that didn’t work, you tried reaching out, helping him. It was the worst mistake of your life. Every time you tried to talk to him, to ask him what was wrong so you could help, he kept pushing you further and further away, acting like you were getting in the way of his work, sometimes even getting angry.

That went on for the whole season, until finally today, on qualifying morning, you snapped and demanded he talk to you.

“What the hell do you mean ‘I wouldn’t get it’? I have the exact same job as you,” you accused. You’d been patient for months and his vagueness was starting to get on your nerves.

Whipping his head around angrily to face you he replied, “You don’t have to reach the same standard as I do. I have to constantly prove I’m the best, and you constantly prove to be a midfielder.”

Oh.

Oh.

That was a low blow, even Sebastian knew that. Your relationship had been teetering on the edge for the past year, but this was a make or break moment, and he knew exactly which one of the two it was going to be.

“So it’s like that,” you decided with a tone of finality. Sebastian wanted to ask for your forgiveness right then and there, to apologize, to make up for the last few months of being an asshole, to beg you not to throw away your years together just like that.

But he knew he was in the wrong, and he was too stubborn and egotistical to apologize.

Sensing the silence from him, you nod with teary eyes you tried so desperately to stop from flowing freely. Sebastian wanted nothing more to wipe them away, to hold you in his arms, but he never could do it.

“This is how you want it to end?” You asked him. It was a genuine question. You were giving him one last choice, one last chance to make up for how he’d been treating you the past year.

He stayed silent.

“Enjoy your fucking career, Vettel.”

—

He won that race. It was his first win of the season, but he felt like he had lost the championship itself as he stood on that podium, eyes looking for you in the crowd like he usually did, finding you absolutely nowhere.

After your argument he tried to talk to you in the paddocks but you constantly avoided him, the act not being hard when he wasn’t allowed inside your team’s hospitality building nor paddock. That fight was the last sensible conversation with each other you ever had.

You retired the year after that. You moved out quietly from your shared home, and he heard you stayed with Jenson for quite a while. He couldn’t blame you, Jenson had always been kind to you— Sebastian had no place to be jealous.

Hearing the beeping of his oven, Sebastian snaps out of his trip down memory lane to grab his dinner. It was a tray of lasagna, one he was sure he would be eating again tomorrow lunch because of the size of it.

He thinks about how he wouldn’t have to place the excess in a container for tomorrow if he just had someone to share it with. If he could share it with you.

Going through his grocery list at 10 in the morning, Sebastian notices a new store out of the corner of his eye. He’s been to this street countless times to do his grocery down the road— they had a brand of milk that no other nearby grocery had— but he had never seen that store before.

It was a bookshop. A small one compared to the large shops that surrounded it, but it stood out enough to be noticed yet cozy enough to feel inviting. It was a cold morning in Switzerland, and the heater inside just invited him further in until he found himself standing at the doorway, taking in the smell of books and the absolutely gorgeous decor.

He will admit, he hasn’t seen a bookshop like this in quite a while. The second he stepped foot inside he felt the love radiate through it, as if he knew the owner personally and how they had a passion for their store.

All Sebastian could think about, however, was how much you would love this. How you would adore running your fingers through the spine of a second hand book, or how you would pick a fresh new one for him to read and he would do the same for you, just like you both did back then.

He won’t pretend that he never looked for your book when you retired. He knew you weren’t joking about publishing one, he just didn’t know what pen name you chose so he never could find it.

“Looking for something specific?” A voice makes him turn his head around to see the woman behind the register looking at him inquisitively. He realizes that he was just standing in an aisle not really reading or picking up a book.

Sebastian shakes his head, “Not really, just browsing. I was thinking about how a friend of mine would have liked to see this store, it’s right up their alley.”

“Why don’t you invite them then?” A different voice speaks.

…It can’t be.

That voice.

That voice.

No, he was hallucinating, dreaming maybe. Yes, this was a dream. That would be the only explanation why from behind him he heard a voice he missed so dreadfully, one he tried imagining talk to him again some nights, one he watched old videos for, one he—

“Sebastian?”

It was you. He would recognize your voice anywhere. He turns around, and the world seems to slow down as if it suddenly focused on just the both of you. The background blurs and everything is hazy and distorted but you were there. Standing in front of him, actually real. Older than he remembers but not in a negative way, just more mature. More peaceful. More you.

Staring at you in the middle of a bookshop in Switzerland after 5 years, Sebastian couldn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say. What would be right? Would there be words he could tell you that would make you ever forgive him?

“I-” “You-”

You both start at the same time, making you laugh at each other. It was the first time he’s seen you smile since 2016. He used to say he would burn cities to see you smile, and he’s glad he knows now that that feeling hasn’t changed.

“You first,” he says. He wants to hear what you’ll say so he can choose his words better.

“I, uh,” you laugh awkwardly. It was still a beautiful sound to Sebastian. “I was actually slightly expecting to see you here.”

Oh. Well he didn’t expect that. You…you were expecting to see him? Like purposely thinking about him? The thought boggled Sebastian.

Noticing his visible silence, you speak up again. “I co-own this bookstore,” you smile. “I knew you lived around the area so I expected I’d bump into you eventually. It’s not the main thing that I do, but my Swiss friend you just talked to behind the counter wanted to make a bookstore but was low on funds so I decided to help a friend out, you know?”

Oh he knows. You were always so kind when it came to your friends. He remembers, he used to be one of them.

“That’s really nice of you,” Sebastian says. He slaps himself internally for the dumb reply he gives. “You uh, you look great.” Way to fucking go Sebastian. What a great conversation saver.

“Not in a weird way, of course. I mean I would never try to make you feel uncomfortable by saying that. Did you feel uncomfortable? Was it weird? It probably was. I mean I haven’t seen you in so long and that’s the first thing I say it’s so stupid and I could have said something of significance but—”

You stop Sebastian before he rambles on any longer. Holding his fidgeting hand, you chuckle at the sight of the nervous German in front of you. “Relax, Seb. I’m not mad. I’ve moved on.”

Oh.

“You have?” He asks, not thinking before he speaks because he knows he hasn’t. How could he move on from the best thing that ever happened to him and the biggest mistake he ever made?

The question takes you aback, pulling your hand away from his. For a second Sebastian thinks he’s messed up all over again, but you simply reply, “I meant from racing. But I know what you think I mean.”

“Can we catch up? I’ve missed you.” Sebastian hears himself say it before he even realizes the implications of his words.

“Oh.” you say with a pause. It makes Sebastian’s heart sink. Maybe you really have moved on, but in a way that you didn’t want him in your life anymore. He gets that. It looks like you’ve built a nice life for yourself outside of racing. Even if he never gets to be in it. He’s proud of you for being able to move on. “How about we sit down for some coffee first? I know a place near here.”

Oh thank god. Sebastian wasn’t ready to be deprived of you again so quickly.

Walking to the cafe, the air was thick with the tension between the two of you. While your accidental meeting in the library had gone well, the spark of the moment had faded and the reality of the situation had settled in. This was someone Sebastian had deeply wronged, someone he still deeply loved, and there were too many words unsaid there about both.

Sitting down at the window seats— he remembers how you loved sitting there so you could watch the people outside— you flag down a waiter to take both your orders.

“I’ll take a macchiato and— Seb do you still take your coffee black?”

Nodding, he looks out the window with a light blush on his cheeks. The fact that you remembered his— albeit simple— order made him happy and he had to catch himself otherwise he would be smiling like a teenage boy again. It was truly the little things.

“So,” he speaks up, straightening up and looking at you.

“So,” you mimic. “I go first or you go first?”

“My life has been pretty televised before I retired, there’s nothing really surprising in it. You go first.”

You spend the next 30 minutes filling him in on your life, how you avoided the media for the past few years, how you live in a cozy home with your dog, how you still exchange presents with some of the older grid during Christmas (Sebastian admits he got jealous here).

But the most important part was when he heard how you finally wrote that book you always talked about.

“Really? You finally published it?” Sebastian asks. He could see how the smile on your face was genuine, unlike the many times he saw you put on a fake one for the press or the media. It made him happy.

“Yeah, I finally found time after I retired to start it. Surprisingly it’s actually much harder and less peaceful than I thought it’d be.”

“At least it’s not a biographical book,” Seb jokes. The throwback makes you giggle, but it also makes you both acknowledge the elephant in the room. There were still so many things left unsaid, you both didn’t know where to start.

“Y/N back when I said those things, you know the ones, I didn’t mean them.”

Giving him a sad smile you reply, “I know, Seb. But it doesn’t take them back. Besides, that silly argument was just the straw that broke the camel's back, we were on the edge of our relationship for so long, you knew that too.”

“I know, but that was my fault it was on the edge too. I kept pushing you away because of Ferrari and how disappointed I was in my career. I didn’t realize at the time how much it was hurting you until I finally lost you. I know it makes no sense to say it this late when all is said and done, but I am sorry.”

Sebastian’s words stunned you to silence. You knew he never meant pushing you away, despite your last fight he was never intentionally that unkind, it was just racing that pushed him to be like that back then. But hearing the words coming from him hit differently, the way he said the two words you’ve been yearning for for years. I’m Sorry.

It couldn’t make you forget, but it could make you forgive.

“I know you are, Sebby,” you say. The old nickname brings a nostalgic smile on his face. “I’ve forgiven you years ago, just after I retired. I figured I should let go of my ghosts and that’s what I did. Though I won’t lie, your ghost did put up quite a fight giving me tears at night,” you joked. Sebastian could sense the hint of sadness in it.

He wishes he could make it all go away, to fix it just like he used to be able to. But he knows it’s not that easy. Not when the years have separated you both. It’ll be hard getting your trust back to let him into your heart even just as a friend, but goddamn if he wasn’t going to try and fix it.

“Will you ever show me the book?”

The question catches you slightly off guard. “I doubt it. It’s not up your alley anway, historical fiction.”

“Anything you write is up my alley. Maybe you can come over sometime and show it to me,” he says, not realizing the underlying meaning to it.

“Careful, Sebastian,” you say. “Forgiving is easy when you’re given time, but forgetting is harder. Let’s take baby steps.”

Baby steps. He could live with that. To Sebastian it doesn’t matter if it takes days or years to get you back in his life, he’ll let you take your time. You deserve it. And if you choose in the end to walk out of his life again, well, then he deserves it.

You hug each other goodbye when you leave, the hug lasting longer than it should have. He knows he promised baby steps, but when you buried your head into the crook of his neck and tightened your grip around him softly, he couldn’t resist pulling you closer to him and holding you there for a few seconds. He misses this, the closeness of it.

He sends you his address if ever you were in the area again, and you notice how the profile picture he has for you on your number was still the one of you when you were both rookies. It made you happy.

Sebastian didn’t expect anything more to happen, he spent that night contemplating what good deed he must’ve done to bring you back into his life again. Whatever it was, he was grateful he had done it.

The next afternoon as he was reheating the Lasagna— that he ultimately forgot yesterday— in the oven for lunch, he heard his doorbell ring. Opening his door he spots a package on the floor, one that was wrapped with a cute bee themed wrapping paper. It made him chuckle. He expected that whoever or whatever was at the door was you, but this was the next best thing.

Sitting down on his porch chair, he opens the package delicately as if it were fragile. He can feel the outline already, it was a book. Moreover, it was your book. Sebastian couldn’t believe it.

There was a note attached that read, ‘Forgot to tell you yesterday. I missed you too.’

The few words were almost enough to bring him to tears, but he continued and opened the book to scan its contents. The typing Published 2020 stands out, making him realize how long he’s missed out on this.

But what truly catches his attention is the dedication. Smack right in the middle, the words to be seen by everyone, read; For my Sunshine, the amount of words left unsaid will never match the amount of love I still have for you in my heart.

He may not be able to fix his mistake just like that, but Sebastian would wait however long it took for you to love him again, as a friend or as another. As long as his sunshine was in his life again.

[loudstan]

Perfect Little Toy

Summary: Mark was looking forward to meeting his mate, but he was not expecting to find her in a sex shop.

Pairing: Werewolf! Mark x Witch! Female reader

Warnings: smut, some angst, magic potions used during sex I guess? also this is way longer than my other fics sorry

 Mark should have known better. But when Haechan asked him to go shopping with him, never in a million years did he think they would end up in a sex shop.

“Dude, I don’t wanna go in there,” he hissed, trying to break free from Haechan’s unrelenting grip on his arm.  Haechan pulled harder, whining vociferously. “S-stop! People are watching,” Mark whispered urgently, trying to hide his face from the curious bystanders.

“What’s the big deal?”Haechan rolled his eyes.

“You could have ordered stuff like this online!” Mark sighed, reluctantly letting himself be dragged into the eye-catching store. “It’s weird to come here together.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Haechan shrugged, walking to the nearest shelf and inspecting the x-rated shaped toys on display. “We are bros, aren’t we? Remember when you wanted to get a fortune telling reading but didn’t want to go alone? Who went with you?”

“Okay, first of all, you can’t possibly compare fortune telling to vibrators,” Mark argued, slapping Haechan’s hand away when it playfully brought a pink dildo uncomfortably close to Mark’s face. “Secondly, you literally found your mate in that shop, so you should be thanking me.”

“Well, maybe you’ll find your mate in here,” Haechan said.

“Very funny,” Mark deadpanned, offended at the mere suggestion of meeting his destined partner in such a lewd place. “Oh, shit I made eye contact with an employee, fuck he’s coming this way-”

“Hi, welcome to Pandora’s Box. My name is Jeonghan,” said a young man with dark hair and a bored expression as he pointed at the name tag on his shirt. “How can I help you today? Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Hey,man!” Haechan greeted. “You see, my girl and I have a lot of sex-”

“Sure you do,” Jeonghan’s plain voice replied. If only he got paid extra for every time he heard that. 

“But she’s human and I’m a werewolf. I’m afraid I’m too big down there for her, you know?” Haechan continued with an arrogant smirk, pointing at his crotch just for extra clarification, Mark cringing behind him.

“Right,”said Jeonghan, clearly unimpressed. Again, if he got paid for each guy who said they were too big. “If you want to train her for your size, then we have some bigger models over here,” he offered, walking the two customers to a shelf with exotic looking silicone dicks. He shoved a massive  neon green dildo into Haechan’s hands.“This one was molded after a head alpha. It comes with a remote to simulate a knot,” he said as he pressed a button on the remote and  the phallic toy started growing in the werewolf's hands, who was in obvious shock. This was Jeonghan’s favorite part of his job: humbling men who thought they were the shit, when it goes without saying that there’s always a bigger dildo that can do a better job. “It glows in the dark,” he added, biting back a smile.

“Cool,”Haechan breathed out, trying not to show how much they had hurt his ego and ignoring Mark’s snort. “Uh–I’m not sure about the… the color, yeah,” There was no way he was buying a toy bigger than him. “Do you maybe have, uh–...something else? Maybe a potion or something that makes it less painful for her?” He added before that Jeonghan guy tried to show him another colossal toy.

 Jeonghan put the toy back on the shelf and lifted his eyebrows as he seemed to think about it for a second. “I guess a potion would work, yeah…This way, please,” he instructed, taking a very embarrassed Haechan and a now amused Mark to a different section of the shop, hidden behind some dark curtains. “Hey, Y/N! Do you have anything to make werewolf penetration more enjoyable for humans?” he asked loudly as they entered a small room decorated with tons of colorful potion jars and  illuminated by candles. 

 At first Mark choked at the employee’s vulgar words and coughed awkwardly. Then a sweet and fresh scent invaded his nostrils, making him freeze. He let out a shaky breath and inhaled once again, letting the summer-like scent fill his lungs and his brain go fuzzy, his eyes trying to focus on the source of such heavenly stimulation. There you were, the most beautiful woman Mark had ever laid eyes on, wearing an employee uniform and your hair tied up neatly not to get in the way of your job. You had stopped mixing a bubbly lilac potion in a cauldron to listen to Jeonghan and help him solve Haechan’s problem. And god, your voice was so melodic, Mark had no idea what you were talking about but he could listen to you forever.

“So this would make her produce as much slick as an omega in heat?” Haechan was fascinated, staring at an expensive looking potion in an elegant jar. 

“Well, not automatically,” you replied. “It will depend on how aroused she is. If you can’t  turn her on, it won’t help you.”

“So you’re telling me,” Haechan insisted, overconfidently. “That she’ll have no way to hide how turned on she is?” he was already thinking of how cute his girlfriend would look when she’s all wet and embarrassed. 

“Yes,” you replied dryly at the same time Jeonghan rolled his eyes at the cocky customer. 

 Mark, on the other hand, was in his own little world and couldn’t stop staring at your lips. Unconsciously, he found himself wondering if you would need to use that potion to make him fit or if he could make it work by taking things slow. Maybe if he ate you out real good and opened you up with his fingers it wouldn’t hurt that much. Mark didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted to make you feel good, take care of you.

“Holy shit,” he gasped when it finally hit him. This was it. He had found his mate. In a fucking sex shop.

Haechan gave him an inquisitive look, but he quickly dismissed his friend’s reaction as him being impressed by the potion. 

“Anything else you need?” Jeonghan asked, making Haechan turn his attention to him once again. 

“Mm…Handcuffs?” Haechan asked after a few seconds of hesitation. 

“How original,” Jeonghan muttered, before indicating for Haechan to follow him back outside. Mark didn’t budge when his friend walked past him. It was like his feet were glued to the floor as he stared at you going back to mixing the suspicious-looking potion while humming to a sweet melody. His eyes landed on your name tag and he found himself saying your name out loud before he could stop it. You quickly looked up, surprised that the customer was still there.

“Yes?” you asked politely. “Can I help you with anything else?”

Oh shit, he had to think of something before you thought he was a creep. He licked his lips nervously before he came up with a question that sounded convincing enough. “I j-just uh… are y-you the owner?”

“Jeonghan and I both co-own this place,” you replied and gave him a smile. “Why?”

“N-no, because, like, you look very y-young so I w-was a bit…surprised, so…so I asked?” The way he ended as if he was asking a question was kind of cute if you were being honest and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

 Mark let out a giggle too, dazed at the fact that he had made you laugh. Oh, how he wanted to make you laugh everyday for the rest of his life. 

“We came up with this idea when we were in freshman year, so we had plenty of time to save money and plan everything,” you explained patiently. Somehow, this stranger made you feel at ease, like you didn’t need to be careful with him, or at least not the way you were with most men. “By the time we graduated we were ready to open the store. It’s like our baby.”

Mark felt a pang of jealousy at the fact that there was a man who was close enough to you to plan such a big project together. “That’s cool, uh– s-so are you two, like, a thing? A c-couple?”

 The sound of your laughter made Mark’s heart skip a beat and he smiled dreamily, almost forgetting what he had asked in the first place.

“No way!” you continued laughing at the ridiculous idea, Mark’s relieved sigh going unnoticed. “We’ve been friends since forever. Just a little advice; never make business plans with a romantic partner, kid.”

“I-I’m 23,” Mark laughed nervously, using the back of his hand to dry up some sweat beads accumulated on his forehead. Your sweet scent was so suffocating it was getting harder to breathe, but he couldn’t care less. 

“Oops, my bad! Not a kid,” you said. “You look so young, though! I’m jealous,” you complimented him, not wanting to admit that he also looked gorgeous. “What’s your name?”

“M-mark,” he stuttered. Cute.

“Nice to meet you, Mark,” you extended your hand for him to shake it, smiling more brightly at the way he giggled like an infatuated high-school girl. Everything seemed to be funny to him and it was endearing. He took your hand into his delicately and allowed you to shake it in a friendly manner when your heart started pounding ridiculously fast and you felt the room move around you. Mark’s hard squeeze on your hand brought you back to reality and you saw his body visibly wobbling as he closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell rapidly. “Mark?” you called his name worriedly, but he only whispered your name weakly before he collapsed on the floor with a thud.

“M-mark?” you breathed out, still trying to calm down your own fluttering heart. You knelt down next to his unconscious body and only then you noticed he was covered in sweat. “Shit. Hey, Mark!” you insisted, giving his face a gentle slap with hopes of waking him up. No response. You tried to stand up to go get help, but for some reason you had no strength in your legs. “Jeonghan!” you screamed as loud as you could. Few seconds later, Jeonghan burst into the potions room, his face incredibly pale and eyes wide open, this being the first time he had heard you scream like that. He looked from your terrified face to the motionless man on the floor, trying to assess damage. Immediately after came Haechan, carrying a basket full of different products, which he almost dropped when he saw the state his pack brother was in. 

“What happened?!” Jeonghan asked, kneeling down and wrapping an arm over your shoulders protectively. 

“I d-don’t know! I just shook his hand,” you said.

 Haechan, who had been checking Mark’s pulse, moved his hand from his wrist to his forehead, confirming that he was burning up. “So he became like this right after you touched him?” he asked, staring at you intently, his tone indicating that he knew something you didn’t. 

“I guess? I…I really didn’t do anything to him, I swear!” your voice shook, thinking you were being accused of harming such a nice guy. You tried to stand up but, again, your weak legs pulled you back to the floor and you let out a frustrated groan as Jeonghan helped you reach a chair. 

“Are you okay?” your friend asked you anxiously, stabilizing you on the chair.

“I’m fine!” you sighed. “I’m probably just nervous. I’m not used to people fainting in front of me- Why haven’t you called an ambulance yet?!” you urged him.

“No need,” Haechan interrupted you before Jeonghan could pull his phone out of his pocket. “This is just his rut. It was due a couple of days, but I guess it came early,” he explained, his eyes shining too excitedly for someone whose friend was unconscious on the floor. He chuckled under his breath like the whole situation was amusing. “He’s fine. He just needs to get home and rest.I’ll ask someone to pick us up,” he added, quickly typing on his phone.

 In less than 20 minutes, an old fashioned vehicle pulled up by the store, a man hurriedly getting off the car and making his way to the entrance, stopping midtrack once he opened the door and found himself surrounded by adult toys. 

“Yeah, yeah, this is a sex shop. People have sex, surprise!” Haechan said sarcastically, gesturing to the newcomer to come in. 

“How’s he?” the intimidatingly tall man asked, after clearing his throat and taking long strides towards where you were. Thankfully, the store was almost empty when the whole incident had taken place, so Jeonghan had quickly kicked the remaining customers out and closed the store, helping Haechan move Mark to a more comfortable place while you got some wet towels to reduce his fever. Now Mark was lying on an improvised bed made of blankets and clothes, almost looking like he was taking a peaceful nap. 

“He’s fine, Johnny,” Haechan chuckled. “Our little Mark is just a bit overwhelmed.”

Johnny turned to you and Jeonghan and thanked you for taking care of his brother, before kneeling next to Mark and Haechan. “I didn’t know his rut was due today,” he muttered.

“Because it wasn’t,” Haechan simply said, giving Johnny a playful look. 

 Johnny stared back at him and raised his eyebrows. “Then what-” he trailed off when he saw Haechan tilting his head furtively towards you, the movement barely perceptible but enough to make Johnny look at you out of the corner of his eyes. Thankfully you were busy talking to Jeonghan, who did catch Johnny staring before the tall werewolf quickly turned his back towards him and tried to move Mark carefully. “Which one,” Johnny whispered only for Haechan to hear, to which Haechan mouthed ‘the girl,’ eliciting an impressed grin from Johnny. “Okay, Markie, let’s get you out of here,” Johnny’s voice was back to normal volume, lifting Mark off the ground and carrying him on his shoulder, Mark’s weak groan being the only sign that he was alive. Haechan followed after him, carrying bags of new toys with him and thanking you again for everything before exiting the shop and getting in the car. 

 Once you and Jeonghan were left alone in the store, you let out a heavy sigh. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeonghan asked.

“Yeah, just tired,” you replied, stretching your body now that your legs seemed to function properly. “This town has more werewolves than I thought,” you suddenly said. 

“I´ve heard about those guys. It’s a big pack that moved here a couple of years ago, and for some reason the number of members keeps increasing,” Jeonghan huffed as he moved towards the counter to close the cash register. “I also heard some of them are imprinting on humans,” he added slowly, looking at you attentively. 

“Imprinting,” you repeated unconvinced such a thing was ever real. “Do you really believe in that whole soulmate thing wolves have going on?”

Jeonghan hummed and seemed to focus on his task of counting bills. “How would I know? I’m not one of them,” he finally said. “It could be real.”

“It’s an ancient tradition. Someone probably came up with it to keep them from having sex with whoever they want,” you spitted.

“They can still have sex with whoever they want,” for some reason Jeonghan was defending werewolves’ outdated way of thinking. “But they are more likely to settle down once they find someone who is very important to them.”

“That's called commitment,” you fired back. “Which is not the same as being forced to like someone through imprinting.”

“They are also gifted,” Jeonghan continued matter of factly, with a hint of annoyance in his voice, like he didn’t like admitting to it. “Down there. Massive dicks.”

“Jeonghan, we literally sell toys that could satisfy me better than a traditionalist guy with attachment issues who thinks having a big dick makes him special,” you deadpanned. 

“Okay!” Jeonghan sighed and raised his arms defensively. “No need to be so defensive.”

“I’m not-,” you stopped yourself because you were in fact being defensive. Why did you care? Was it really because you hated old-fashioned ways of thinking? Was there something else bothering you? To be fair, you had been unnecessarily mean; you didn’t think any of the werewolves you just met were traditionalist assholes with attachment issues. Mark especially seemed like such a kind and chill guy. The type of guy you would have asked out on a date if he hadn’t passed out in front of you. Maybe that’s what bothered you: was Mark the type of werewolf who followed traditions to the extent he wouldn’t even give you a chance in order to prioritize his supposed mate? “Sorry, you’re right. It has nothing to do with me anyways.”

When Mark woke up, his head was throbbing and your lovely scent felt like a distant memory. His muscles ached when he sat up and he winced at the way his shirt stuck to his sweaty body. As he took the messy shirt off he heard a soft knock on the door.

“Come in,” he croaked, after taking a proper look at his surroundings and recognising his own room. The door opened slowly and the youngest member of the pack slid into his room, carrying a glass of water and a little medication bottle. Mark could already tell what type of medication it was.

“They told me to give you these,” Jisung offered him the suppressants and waited until Mark had successfully opened the jar and taken a pill into his hands before offering the glass of water.

“Thanks,” Mark muttered before swallowing the pill and gulping down the content of the glass. 

“Do you need anything else?” The younger asked sympathetically.

“No,” Mark assured him, already having gone through his rut so many times he just knew there wasn’t much he could do about it besides fucking it out of his system, by himself or with somebody else. “I just have to wait for the suppressants to kick in and I’ll feel a bit better.”

“Do suppressants really help?” Jisung asked curiously. He had only had a rut once and he spent it with his mate, so he didn’t have to suffer as much as his older brothers. 

“They make the whole thing bearable,” Mark answered, cracking his neck and sighing tiredly. “But it’s still a pain in the ass,” he admitted.

“Is he awake?” Haechan’s voice called from the door. “You got me worried when I saw you unconscious on the floor, man. I calmed down because I understood what was happening, but you probably scared the shit out of the people who worked at the store. That poor girl didn’t know what to do,” he chuckled, inviting himself into the room and sitting on Mark’s bed. 

“Fuck,” Mark groaned at the reminder of such embarrasing first impression and he flopped into the bed. “Y/N…”

“Who is Y/N?” Jisung asked.

“That, little Jisung, would be Mark’s mate,” Haechan revealed and then looked at Mark for confirmation. “Am I right?” 

 Mark whined and covered his face with his palms, but he nodded. 

“And you met her thanks to who…?” Haechan continued, looking from Jisung to Mark , adding a dramatic pause. “Me! I was the one who took you to that sex shop!”

“S-sex shop?!” Jisung choked on his saliva and stared at Mark in shock as if he was waiting for him to tell him it was one of Haechan’s jokes. 

“That’s right,” Haechan laughed and then he gasped as he seemed to remember something. “Hold on, I got you something,” he suddenly said, standing up and leaving the room shortly,and coming back with a pair of handcuffs which he gave to Jisung. “Here. These are for the next time your mate tries to run away.”

Jisung’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he stared at the pink, fluffy handcuffs in his palms. “S-shut up!” He stuttered as aggressively as he could in spite of his voice cracking. “Noona’s not going anywhere,” he muttered to himself.

“Fine,” Haechan rolled his eyes and extended his hand. “Give them back if you don’t want them.”

“N-no,” Jisung said quickly and hid the gift behind his back. “You gave them to me.”

“Can you have this conversation somewhere else?!” Mark suddenly groaned. Haechan’s voice was making his headache worse and he really wanted some peace before his rut hit completely. And he definitely wanted to be alone when touched himself to the thought of you. 

The next few days were a blur. Mark lost count of how many times he cummed in his hand, on the bedsheets and finally in a fleshlight that Haechan sneaked into his room as a gift at some point. At first,  ready to reject whatever ridiculous toy he was bringing, he yelled at Haechan to get out and threw a shoe at him, which Haechan avoided just in time by leaving and closing the door behind him. But then Mark caught your scent. It was very faint, but he would recognise it anywhere. Dizzy, he got up, and crawled towards the fleshlight Haechan had left by the door. He inspected it , never before being so mesmerized by a toy, and bringing it close to his face to inhale your scent deeply. “Y/N…”

“I knew you would like it,” Haechan chuckled from the other side of the door, startling Mark. “It’s a small human size.I went to the store and made sure Y/N was the one selling it to me. I asked her to open the product and test it in front of me…,” he teased. “She stuffed her fingers inside of it to demonstrate how flexible the material is.”

Mark groaned and slid his tongue into the toy hungrily, trembling as he got to taste a bit of you before your scent faded away. 

“She asked about you.I told her you were fine and that you were sorry for scaring her. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her the fleshlight was for you,” Haechan continued, oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the door. “That Jeonghan guy is totally onto me though; he wouldn’t stop glaring at me like I’m the  biggest perv-,” she trailed off as he suddenly heard wet, slippery sounds, indicating that Mark had wasted no time in using his new gift. “Gross! Wait until I’m gone!” Haechan yelled and ran off. Mark was too gone to care, fucking into the toy with intent and imagining it was you. 

No matter how insufferable Haechan was, this would really help him get through his rut more easily. He should thank him later.Later. Now he really couldn’t think with anything but his cock. He let his animal instinct take over and he forgot about everything and everyone except you, and by the time he gained some self control and clarity back, he found the sticky fleshlight completely destroyed in his hands.He panted heavily as he grabbed some tissues to clean himself before he stood up and put some clothes on for the first time in days. As soon as he opened the door he was met with a bag hanging off the handle containing a bottle of water and some energy bars, which he quickly devoured before heading to take a shower. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jeno asked him as soon as he entered the living room where some of the younger members of the pack were hanging out. 

“I’m good,” Mark sighed. “This one was kind of intense, though…”

“We heard,” Jeno said, quickly correcting himself when Renjun nudged him and gave him a pointed look. “I mean, we can imagine.”

“The first rut after meeting your mate is hell if you don’t spend it together,” Jaemin butted in. 

“To be fair, your mate was particularly difficult,” Jeno told Jaemin. “She denied you for months.”

“Which I’m sure won’t be the case for Mark,” Jaemin assured Mark, who was squirming anxiously on his seat. “You already know her name and where to find her, and from what we heard she’s single.”

“Wha-how do you guys know that?”

“Haechan said he couldn’t smell anybody else’s scent on her, besides the guy who works with her,” Renjun clarified. “Just go see her when you feel better-”

 Renjun’s voice was overpowered by loud whines and complaints coming from the main door, where Haechan and Yangyang were making their entrance.

“I didn’t know!” Yangyang sighed tiredly, like he had been forced to repeat the same thing many times. 

“Well now you know, you little traitor,” Haechan hissed, pulling Yangyang’s arm and carrying him to the living room, where everyone stared at them wide-eyed. “Oh, look! Mark is here! Why don’t you tell him who you were planning on letting suck your dick?”

“Look, Mark,” Yangyang gulped, looking anywhere except Mark’s confused face, which was quickly morphing into one of apprehension. “I didn’t mean to- I just-...I was walking back from campus and I saw that new sex shop downtown and there was this hot-” he interrupted himself and looked at Haechan, who was raising his eyebrows at him, encouraging him to go on. “-a woman. I-I saw a woman who was hanging a sign outside the store, something about needing a volunteer to try a new potion. So I asked what it was about, and she said-...” he paused again and breathed in, knowing there was no nice way to say it. “She said it was something that would like, uh- turn off her gag reflex when doing oral, and that she needed a guy whose size was above average and when I asked how she was gonna test it, she said that-...that she tried all her potions herself…So like, she would be the one d-doing the…the sucking,” he trailed off, his voice going quiet as he felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him.

“...You didn’t,” Renjun was the only one to speak. “...did you?”

“Ugh, I…,” Yangyang groaned. “I’m a man, okay? Why would I say no to a pretty girl sucking me off and giving me cash for it?!” 

“MARK’S MATE GAVE YOU A BLOWJOB?!” Jeno exclaimed incredulously. 

“NO!” Yangyang quickly shut him up and looked for Mark’s lifeless eyes before denying it again. “No. Nothing happened. I had an interview with her and a guy who works there. They measured my cock, asked for a sexual health check-up and told me to come back tomorrow with the results. I called Haechan to ask him about a good clinic to get tested and he practically jumped down my throat,” he explained nervously. “I…I really didn’t know.”

Everyone stayed silent, looking at Mark who was scarily quiet, clenching his jaw and looking at his own hands folded on his lap. “So? Are you going tomorrow?” he asked cautiously.

Yangyang shook his head quickly, but it was Haechan who  spoke. “He isn’t. But you should.”

“Me?!” Mark bawled out. 

“Do you want her sucking somebody else off?!” Haechan spit back. “If it’s not Yangyang, there will be another dude out there who’s willing to do it.”

“Haechan’s got a point there,” Jaemin agreed. “She’s gonna test that potion anyways, and you were lucky that the one finding out about it was one of our pack. She won’t be looking for somebody else because she’s expecting Yangyang to show up tomorrow. This is your chance.”

“But she’s expecting him, not me,” Mark said bitterly. 

“Not at all! She didn’t seem particularly interested in me. She just thought I was hygienic enough, I guess,” Yangyang laughed awkwardly. “It was kind of intimidating how professional she was about it, to be honest.”

“This is the plan,” Haechan asserted, like he had been waiting the entire time to show how much of a mastermind he was. “Yangyang’s gonna call tomorrow before his appointment and let them know that he had an accident or something,” he quickly explained, ignoring Yangyang’s whine of how bad he was at lying. “And then he’ll say that he sent someone to replace him and BOOM! You show up with your STD test results and your monster cock and she falls in love.”

“Then he would have to go get tested right now,” Renjun said, entertaining Haechan’s plan.

“No need!” Haechan laughed like he was revealing the biggest plot twist. “Because last week, I forced Mark to go with me to get my annual check up and he ended up getting tested since he was already there. Who saved the day again? ME!”

“Problem solved, then,” Jaemin beamed, like it was actually that easy.

 Mark nodded slowly and then, when he actually processed what he was agreeing to, he shook his head violently. “No, no way. I can’t do it.”

“What?!” Jeno asked. “Man, you have to!”

“I- I just can’t,” Mark stuttered.

“What, is she ugly?” Jeno asked incredulously. 

“No,” both Mark and Yangyang answered immediately. Mark narrowed his eyes and glared at Yangyang who didn’t seem to think he said anything wrong. “What? She really isn’t,” he tried to defend himself.

Mark sighed. “I literally just met her. I haven’t even asked her out. How am I supposed to-...do that?,” he admitted.

“I understand this may not be your ideal version of a fated meeting,” Renjun spoke in a calming manner. “But if you want to take things slowly, you must know that she will be testing all these…sex potions with somebody else. Are you okay with that?”

Mark shook his head and clenched his fists, biting his lip. Hell, no.  He could never be okay with anybody else touching you now that he met you. But that was exactly what was going to happen if he didn’t man up and showed up to get a platonic blowjob from his mate who didn’t know was his mate and would suck him off for science/magic purposes only. 

 And so, Mark found himself standing outside your store the next evening, wearing an expensive hoodie (to keep it casual, but not broke), gray sweatpants that, according to Haechan, accentuated the goods, brand new boxers and holding a neat folder with his check-up results printed in his hands.He took a deep breath in and stepped towards the door, before stopping himself again but this time the door opened from the inside,and  he was greeted with Jeonghan’s impassive face. 

“Are you gonna come in or not? It stresses me out to see you having whatever internal battle this is in front of my store,” Jeonghan said.

“No-I mean, yes! I was just about-...uh, my brother asked me to- well, he like, sent me to-...,” Mark struggled to get to the point and ended up just giving Jeonghan the folder he was holding. Jeonghan grabbed the folder with a puzzled look, which quickly became one of amusement as he opened it and understood what he had in his hands. 

“You’re Yangyang’s replacement?” he asked, his tone slightly playful.

“Uh, yes…if that’s okay,” Mark said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. What if he wasn’t what they were looking for?

“Well, you’re clean and you seem to have a decent size,” Jeonghan pointed out, looking at Mark’s crotch shamelessly. “I’ll just need to ask you a few questions to make sure we’re good to go. You’re also allowed to ask us anything and back down if you feel it’s too much for you,” he explained, making space for Mark to enter the shop and then hanging a sign indicating that they were closed. He then guided Mark to the room where he had first met you before he had any time to prepare himself. “Hey, Y/N, look who’s back!”

You were not expecting to see Mark at all after what had happened last time. First of all, he had literally fainted in your store, which you thought was enough to make him not want to go back there ever. Secondly, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would casually go to a sex shop. But there he was, standing in front of you and stuttering something about wanting to volunteer for potion testing. As he was speaking, you found yourself looking down and vividly staring at his dick print, salivating at the idea of having him in your mouth. When you looked back up, your eyes met Jeonghan’s knowing ones and you knew he had caught you red handed. Okay you had a tiny crush on this Mark guy, but what you were about to do was strictly professional. 

“Are you sure you’re okay doing this? Didn’t you go into rut recently?” you asked, indicating for him to sit down in the chair across yours, as Jeonghan took a sit next to you, going over some papers and taking notes. 

“I’m fine. Also…I’m sorry for last time,” Mark rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It must have been shocking.”

“Don’t apologize for that. I-...” you quickly corrected yourself. “We are glad you’re okay. If you want to do this we need to ask you a few questions first, is that okay?”

When Mark nodded, Jeonghan shot the first question. “Are you a virgin?”

“N-no,” Mark stuttered. “I’ve…I’ve had sex.”

“When was the last time you had sexual relationships?” you asked, trying not to make it noticeable that what you actually wanted to know was if he was seeing someone.

“Uh maybe 5 months ago? Or more, I’m not too sure, sorry.”

“No girlfriend? Or boyfriend?” Jeonghan asked, even though that was not one of the questions on the list.

“No, I’m single,” Mark stated more confidently, his eyes darting towards you nervously. 

“Would you be willing to participate in future testing for our products?” you asked, again trying not to show how much you wanted him to say yes.

“Yes,” Mark said firmly, this time staring right into your eyes. He wanted you to call him and only him for whatever you wanted to test. You blushed a little, but quickly hid your face behind some papers you pretended to be reading.

“Did you like the fleshlight?” Jeonghan asked as quickly as Mark answered the previous question, again, not following the script.

“Yes,” Mark answered honestly, caught off guard, and blushing furiously when he properly understood  what he had just admitted. Shit. Fuck. Okay, Mark, keep it cool, nothing wrong with using a fleshlight. Just move on to the next question. “But I split it open, s-sorry,” fuck why would you tell them that, Mark?!

“Oh?” Jeonghan was having the time of his life. “How come? Our toys are very resistant.”

“The toy was g-great! Amazing quality, very soft,” Mark cringed at his own words, because he had no idea how to rate a sex toy and it showed. “It’s just that ruts are… rough,” he said for a lack of a better word to describe how wild things got when his wolf consumed him.

 You gulped and cleared your throat while Jeonghan let out an impressed whistle and took some notes. “I guess we need to make them even more resistant, then,” you said. “Anyways, Jeonghan is going to measure you now so I’ll step out for a minute and come back when you’re ready, okay?”

When Mark agreed, you left the room and went straight to the restroom to wash your face and calm yourself down. Did he really break the toy with his dick? Fuck, he was going to destroy your throat. But then, he was the perfect candidate to test the potion; if you could deep throat him, it meant your creation had been successful. You took a deep breath in and drank the anti-gagging potion before you made your way to the potions room, waiting for your sign to go in. Then Jeonghan came out and wiggled his eyebrows at you, chuckling.

“I’ll bring you some honey and lemon tea for your throat tomorrow,” he said, winking at you and walking towards the counter to count today’s cash. “He’s all yours.”

You rolled your eyes and walked in. “Mark? are you ready?”

 Mark was standing, adjusting the hem of his sweatpants around his hips, giving you a teaser of his defined abdomen and hipbones. He blushed, and nodded. “So… how should we do this?”

“Just take a seat and let me do the rest,” you instructed, quickly kneeling in front of the chair he was now sitting in.

“Y/N,” he suddenly called your name, and his hand stopped yours from pulling the elastic of his pants down.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, your heart dropping at the thought of being rejected. “Did you change your mind?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I was just wondering… Why are you trying the potion yourself? Couldn’t you have found somebody willing to test their gag reflex?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you muttered, distracting by the way his thumb was drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “But I find it hard to trust other people when it comes to feedback. This is my product so I want to make sure it works. Plus, I happen to have a strong gag reflex; everything makes me choke,” you shrugged, without noticing the way Mark’s breath stuttered. “So if someone can tell if this potion works, it’s me.”

Mark nodded and exhaled. “Is this the very first time you drink this potion?”

“No. I’ve tested it with inanimate objects, like some of the dildos we sell,” you said and Mark hoped you hadn’t noticed the way his dick twitched at the mental image of your pretty lips sucking on a toy. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna vomit all over you,” you chuckled, trying to ease the tension. You wanted Mark to relax, to feel safe with you. “Any more questions?”

 Oh, there was so much that Mark wanted to ask you, like what was your favorite color or if you liked flowers, but he knew it was not the right time, so he just shook his head and released your hand, letting you pull down the waistband carefully. Once you lowered his sweatpants slightly, you looked up at him, looking for any sign of discomfort, but besides the intense blushing that covered his face and ears, he seemed fine, so you took it further by pulling his boxers down enough to release his cock and you gasped out loud. Now you could understand how he managed to destroy the fleshlight.

When you stared at his dick for way too long,Mark got the wrong idea. “You d-don’t have to-“ he tried to say but he ended up hissing when you took him in your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s perfect,” you murmured before remembering you had to keep it professional. “For testing, I mean.”

“O-okay, okay g-glad to hear-ooh!” Mark definitely shouldn’t be trying to have a conversation right now. You had barely touched him and he was already half hard. He should be embarrassed, but he couldn’t even think when you were in your knees between his legs and stroking his cock like that.

 On your side, you knew you didn’t need to be jerking him off. The deal was just to put it in your mouth and see if it could reach your throat without gagging you, but it was like you had no control over your actions right now. Just like last time you had seen Mark, your heart was fluttering and you felt lightheaded and all you wanted was for him to feel good.

 Carefully, you flicked the head of his cock with your tongue, causing his back to arch and his hips to chase your mouth. “S-sorry,” he quickly apologized, already panting. 

“It’s fine,” you purred, your tone a bit too seductive to be professional. Fuck what was Mark doing to you? You were basically drooling as you trailed your tongue from the base to the tip. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”

“Fuck,” Mark moaned, throwing his head back and clenching his fist on his sides, not quite knowing what to do with himself. “Y-yes,” he consented.

 You didn’t waste more time, guiding the head of his cock into your mouth and sucking softly, and delighting on the hushed curses that left Mark’s mouth. You worried the problem wouldn’t be your gag reflex; you had underestimated his girth, which was making it difficult to even fit him between your lips. You worked on relaxing your jaw and took a bit more of his cock in, trying your best not to let your teeth scratch him.

“Shit…Y/N,”  Mark sobbed, trembling under you, when his tip met your throat and you successfully swallowed around him.  One of his hands grabbing the hem of his hoodie and lifting it enough to expose his tense lower abdomen. You looked up through your eyelashes, enamored by the way his brows furrowed in pleasure and his chest rose and fell. Before you could think about what you were doing, your hands traveled up, caressing his waist and stomach, which contracted under your hands. Your head bobbed up and down slowly, still trying to remind yourself to be careful of his size in spite of his soft moans driving you crazy.

“Mark,” you call for him, swirling your tongue around the tip teasingly. “Mark,” you repeat when he doesn’t reply, eyes unfocused and mouth agape as he panted. He acknowledged you with a soft ‘hmm?’ and you spoke again. “I need you to fuck my mouth now,” you spoke casually, like you were talking about the weather and Mark could have died right there.

“Wha-,” he stuttered, trying not to panic. “W-what?!”

“I need to check if the potion is still effective when things get rough,” you blushed, hoping not to sound too desperate. In your defense, it was for the sake of the experiment, but a part of you really wanted Mark to fuck your mouth. “You don’t want to?” you whispered, suddenly considering that maybe he wasn’t into you and was only doing this for the money. Maybe he wasn’t enjoying himself as much as you thought. And that shouldn’t bothering you, but it was.

“It’s not that,” he sighed, trying to ignore how hard he was and how badly he did want to face-fuck you. “I’m-...I’m stronger than I look, Y/N. I would ruin you.”

“That’s the point,” you simply said, again trying to help him relax, but also god, did you want it. Mark groaned and clenched his eyes closed, a bead of precum sliding down the head of his cock to your hand that was jerking him off slowly. “So, no?” you asked one last time. Mark bit his lip and avoided your eyes, and you felt officially rejected. “That’s fine, I won’t force you,” you accepted your defeat, trying not to be too bitter about it, slowly letting go of his dick and getting ready to stand up and leave with some dignity. “Please tell Yangyang to come whenever he has time-”

 Now, that seemed to do it for Mark. Before you could stand up or finish speaking, he tangled his hand in your hair and pushed your head down onto him roughly. A guttural moan left his lips and you whined in surprise and looked up to him; his eyes had turned red and his jaw was clenched. Without a word he pulled your hair a little and thrusted his hips up sharply, causing you to let out a muffled cry. 

“Like this?” he panted, placing both his hands on your head and moving you up and down his length fast, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. “Is this what you w-wanted?” he growled, not even hiding how irritated he was at the thought of you sucking off his pack brother. The way your jaw stretched for him was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t deny this side of Mark was turning you on. You found yourself wondering if this was the way he treated that poor fleshlight. You also wondered if he had, at least for a second, thought of you during his rut. You moaned around him and his eyes rolled back. “Fuuuuck.”

 He quickly brought his eyes back to look at you, like he didn’t want to miss a single detail and thrusted his hips up into your mouth at the same time he guided your head up and down his cock, his moans becoming louder and more desperate, completely forgetting that Jeonghan could probably hear everything from the other room. You looked so pretty, and he hoped you knew that, so he said it.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” he said, one of his hands caressing your cheek, while his other hand kept your head in place to take his slower but more forceful thrusts and swallow the salty precum that for some reason tasted addictive to you. You looked up to him, surprised at the sudden gentle words. You knew for a fact there was no way you looked pretty when you were a drooling mess, with sloppy hair and a dick down your throat, but his mouth hanging open in pleasure, forming a perfect ‘o’ shape and the way he looked at you with those intense red eyes filled with lust and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on somehow made you feel like the prettiest girl on earth. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks and swallow around his length and Mark finally lost it, letting out a loud moan that sounded like your name mixed with profanities as hot and thick liquid invaded your tastebuds. Mark kept your head right there while he rode the aftershocks of his orgasm, making sure you swallowed every drop and caressing your hair and praising you until he lost all strength and let his body relax on the chair, releasing the hold he had on you. You let go of his cock with a soft ‘pop’, pulled his pants and boxers back up and rested your head on his thigh, trying to catch your breath and clenching your thighs to get some relief, incredibly aroused. 

“W-was that okay?” Mark asked after a while, hoping you didn’t hate him.

“Yeah…” you replied dreamingly, feeling lightheaded. “Perfect.”

“Y/N,” Mark breathed out, caressing your hair and looking at you lovingly. “Can I…Would you let me make you feel good too?”

“Huh?” you croaked, looking up at him. Mark inhaled deeply and sighed, focusing his eyes on your crotch and then you remembered that wolves had an enhanced sense of smell.He could surely smell how wet you were. How embarrassing. “Oh, no! Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up too quickly and almost falling because your legs were not ready for that. Mark immediately stood up and caught you in his arms, pulling your body and face dangerously close to his. “I- it’s…,” you tried to speak, but it was hard when Mark was close enough to kiss you. “You don’t h-have to, r-really,”

“I want to,” Mark whispered like he was hypnotized, licking his lips and staring at yours hungrily. “Please let me…” 

 Oh, he was trouble. You wanted to say yes to anything he asked from you. But your prideful side reminded you that you had had to basically beg him to fuck your mouth. It wasn���t like he actually wanted you. “No need,” you finally said, pushing him away gently and turning around to search for his payment. You came back to him and offered him an envelope with cash. “Thank you for your help. It looks like the potion works perfectly,” you said politely, becoming your professional persona again, much to Mark’s disappointment. 

He looked from the envelope to your face, until he remembered that, according to you, what had just happened was all business. The fact that you would go on thinking that he would just let anyone suck him off for money made him feel physically ill, but then, he is the one who showed up for the job. He looked away and nodded, before taking the envelope and stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie, without sparing it a glance. “No problem,” he muttered, dragging his feet towards the exit, but he stopped himself after a couple of steps, addressing you. “Hey, Y/N! Uh… do you, like, maybe- I was wondering if you,” just ask for her number,dude. Why can’t you do it?! “Is there any other potion you need to try?” he asked instead. Mark, you fucking loser.

“Uh…” you pondered for a few seconds. You would love to see him again, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. But he did say he would be willing to participate in future testing during the interview. “There’s something I’m working on these days,” you admitted shyly, shifting around because of the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs. 

“Call me,” Mark said quickly. “Whenever you want to try a new product, call me first,” he added, pointing at the folder where Jeonghan had written all his information, including his phone number. “I’ll t-try them out… with you.”

“O-okay,” you knew you were blushing and you couldn’t even hide the small smile on your lips. Again, you tried not to let it get to your head; for all you knew he could just be desperate for more cash. “We’ll let you know.”

 As soon as Mark got home, he was met with uncountable indiscreet questions. The entire house, and maybe the neighborhood knew he had been out there getting a blowjob.

“Did she fall for you?” Haechan asked, coming from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne ready to be opened. 

“Not even close,” Mark grunted. 

“What?!” he lowered the bottle, disappointed.”What happened?!” 

“She gave me the best orgasm of my life and then gave me money,making it very clear it had been for the sake of her business,” Mark muttered, plopping on the couch as his brothers surrounded him with curious eyes. “Didn’t even let me return the favor…”

“So this is it?” Chenle butted in. “You’re giving up?”

“No, I… I told her I was willing to volunteer to test other products and she said she would let me know if something came up.”

Some of the guys gave each other skeptical looks, communicating with their eyes that they thought you wouldn’t call Mark.

“No. You’re going to that store every damn day if you have to,” Haechan said stubbornly.

“Just because it worked for you, it doesn’t mean it will work for everyone,” Mark sighed, remembering how Haechan had showed up in their mate’s store everyday for months to win her over. “A guy going to a sex shop everyday? She’ll think I’m a perv.”

“Persistence is key,” Haechan insisted, but Mark wasn’t listening anymore. He stood up and left to lock himself in his room, leaning against the door. He took the cash envelope out of his pocket and threw it somewhere on the floor, letting out a frustrated groan. He should have asked for your number like a normal man interested in a woman. Why did he have to be such a coward? He probably wouldn’t hear from you again.

…But he did. After a couple of weeks of him watching the store from afar (while Haechan straight up went to the store and bought whatever just to make sure you weren’t testing any potions with somebody else), one morning he got a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” he murmured lethargically, still half asleep.

“Hello? Is this, uh…Mark Lee?” your voice asked on the other side of the line.

“Y/N, shit-,” he sat up immediately as soon as he recognised your voice. “Sorry, I was- Y-yes, this is M-mark.”

“Hi, Mark, this is Y/N ,from Pandora’s Box,” you introduced yourself even though you had clearly heard him say your name. “We were wondering if you were still interested in helping us test our products,” you recited just like you had practiced a thousand times before making the call.

“Yes, please!” Mark answered way too quickly. “I mean, I would love to- I… sure, I can help.”

“Would you be available Saturday night?”

“Y-yeah, Saturday sounds great,” honestly, he would have showed up in his pajamas right now if you had asked him to.

“Great! I’ll text you the address. Save my number!” you said quickly and hung up before he could question if it all had been a dream. You put the phone down and glared at Jeonghan. “Happy now?” you asked him sarcastically and he laughed.

“Now, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” he asked back. He had been teasing you ever since the last time Mark had visited the store. Being your best friend meant he could immediately tell when you liked someone and you really really liked Mark. So Jeonghan, being the good friend he was, had been pestering you day and night to call Mark directly instead of recruiting new volunteers to test your potion. 

Still on his bed, Mark was having a thousand different thoughts a second. You’d said you would send him an address. So you wouldn’t meet at the store? And you also told him to save your number… so the phone you used to call him had to be yours, right? Oh god, was this like a date? Just then, a notification of a message from the same number popped up, informing him of the address he had to go to the next day. Nothing more, and nothing less. He bit his lip nervously. Why did you have to keep treating everything like a job? Would it kill you to send an emoji? But he told himself this was no time to be pessimistic. You had called him, and that was a good start.

 And here he was now, on a Saturday night, ringing the bell of an apartment and trying to control his anxiety. 

“Mark?” He was met with your flustered face when you opened the door, wearing an oversized shirt that had him wondering if you were completely bare under it. “You’re early!” you said, pulling the hem of the shirt lower to cover you better. “S-sorry, come in! I’ll just get changed quickly.”

“You don’t have to!” Mark said way too fast, having a hard time to stop looking at your thighs. “I m-mean, you can if you want to, but I…I don’t mind… like, at all.”

You blushed and stared at Mark, not knowing how to reply to that, because he was obviously checking you out.

“I mean, this is your house,” Mark stated. It wasn’t a question; your scent was everywhere. “You get to wear whatever you want, right?” he shrugged, hoping he wasn’t making it that obvious that he didn’t want you to cover up. “Why are we meeting here, by the way?”

“I thought some privacy would be nice,” you said, remembering how Jeonghan made fun of you because of how loud Mark had been last time. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not all all.”

“Cool,” you sighed. “I just need to add a couple of ingredients and the potion will be ready. Make yourself at home,” you made your way towards the kitchen, deciding not to change clothes, partly because your current outfit was comfortable, but mostly because you secretly enjoyed Mark’s eyes on your body.

Instead of finding a seat and killing time on his phone, Mark followed you, hoping you didn’t mind some company. He leaned against the fridge as he watched you do your thing, trying to come up with something to say to start a conversation.

“How’s your throat?” he finally asked, watching you almost drop the spoon you were holding. 

“Fine,” you gave him a short answer. He didn’t need to know you could barely speak for a couple of days after you deepthroated him.

“Good to hear,” he whispered, watching you with doting eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he confessed. Maybe it was because your aroma was surrounding him, but he found himself feeling more relaxed and open to speak without filtering his words.

“You didn’t hurt me,” you assured him, not daring to look at him and focusing on your potion instead. “You were…really good.”

“Yeah?” he purred, feeling lightheaded by the domestic view of you wearing nothing but an oversized shirt in the kitchen, wishing he could see this everyday of his life.

“Y-yeah,” you gulped,feeling his eyes boring into you. “Okay, uh-I’m gonna need a drop of your blood,” you changed the topic quickly.

“Sure,” Mark didn’t even question it. You could have all of him. He walked towards you and let you grab his hand, using a needle to prick his index finger as fast and unpainfully as you could, letting a single drop of his blood pour into the cauldron. Immediately after, you did the same to your own finger, letting your blood mix with his in the potion. “What does this potion do?” Mark asked.

You gave him a surprised look. “Didn’t I tell you on the phone?”

Mark shook his head, chuckling. You remembered how you were so nervous you hung up on him as soon as he agreed to help.

“And you still came? Without even knowing-” you gasped when Mark took your hand into his and slid your injured finger into his mouth, softly sucking on it.

“Does it hurt?” he asked gently, giving it little licks,  completely forgetting the conversation you were having just now.

“N-no,” you sighed, confused and nervous at the loving way Mark had been behaving ever since he entered your place. Maybe he was just being nice and you were imagining things. “Anyways, about the potion,” you raised your voice in panic, removing your hand from his and going back to mixing the potion. “It will make you feel what your partner feels. This way, people can know if what they are doing is enjoyable and no one needs to fake their orgasms.”

“Have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, now pouring the bright pink potion in two different glasses and offering one to him.

“Faked an orgasm?”

“Of course. Not like men care enough to check,” you said, hearing Mark tsk next to you. “So, after we drink this potion, I would need you to touch yourself,” you swallowed nervously, hoping not to scare Mark away with your straightforwardness. “ Nothing too wild, just something that feels good to you and we’ll see if I feel it too… if you are still up for it?”

Mark raised an eyebrow and straight up drank the potion, not leaving a single drop behind. He wouldn’t even dream of letting you try that out with somebody else. “Well?” he asked, tilting his head towards your glass. You hesitated for a moment before drinking the potion too.

“S-so, you can use the bathroom and uh-...do whatever you need t-to do,” you stuttered nervously, showing him where the bathroom was and letting him have some privacy. You assumed he would probably need to watch some porn on his phone or something, but you had no idea your scent already had him on edge. As soon as you sat down on the sofa, you felt a tingling sensation on your neck, which traveled to your shoulders and then your arms. And then it clicked; you were feeling his fingers. He was gently caressing his own body like he would to a lover and you could feel it on yourself. You gasped when the invisible fingers ran down your chest and grazed your nipples softly before toying with them. Oh fuck, the potion really worked.

Mark never took his sweet time like this when touching himself, but just thinking that he was indirectly touching you made him want to seize the opportunity. He closed his eyes and let his hands move like they were exploring your body. He teased himself by running his hands up and down his abdomen several times, always stopping at the waistband before sneaking only the tip of his fingers in, imagining you begging him to get to it.

In the other room, you were mentally begging for him. His faint touches had you trembling and wanting to touch yourself. You didn’t, because you knew he would feel it if you were pleasuring yourself and it would be embarrassing, but god you wanted to. Thankfully, Mark seemed to have mercy on himself-on you- and slid his hand past his boxers, fully palming himself and letting out a moan that echoed past the bathroom walls. You bit your lip to suppress the moan that almost escaped you, quickly crossing your legs at the sudden stimulation, arching your back when you felt slow circles being drawn on your clit. Shit, he was teasing the head of his cock, going from slow big circles to tiny fast ones that had you squirming on your seat. That’s when it hit you that he wasn’t doing this to himself, but to you. This fucker was doing it intentionally. 

 Mark started stroking his cock furiously, knowing it would take you by surprise and smirking victoriously when he heard a whine coming from the living room. He was so thankful for his enhanced hearing right now, because he could hear every little gasp you let out like you were right in front of him. When he felt himself close to his climax he stopped moving his hand and chuckled at the way you whimpered. He pulled his pants back up and exited the bathroom to find you in the living room.

“Did it work?” he asked innocently, trying not to laugh at your frustrated, blushing face. You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again and nodded. He eyed you up and licked his lips, before sitting on the couch in front of you. “Shouldn’t we test if it works both ways?”

“W-what?” you croaked, breathing heavily. 

“Don’t you need to know if I feel what your body feels too?” he asked, scanning your body carefully.

Even in your aroused state, you knew he was making sense. Plus, you were so close and desperate to cum you didn’t care if it was embarrassing anymore. But you also wanted to get back at him for teasing you. So you obliged, sliding one of your hands under your shirt right there in front of him. His breath hitched and his eyes widened when he saw what you were doing.He was a bit disappointed when he saw that you were in fact wearing a pair of shorts under your shirt, but he wasn’t going to complain when he had you groping your tits in front of him. He sighed shakily at the way you floundered your breasts, occasionally teasing your nipples.

“Can you feel it?” you asked.

Mark licked his lips and shifted on his seat. If he admitted he felt it, would it be over?Would you give him money and kick him out again? He had to make it last. “I-...I’m not too sure. My nipples are not very sensitive so m-maybe…you could touch somewhere else?” he asked hopefully, letting his eyes fixate on your crotch. 

“You’re not sensitive there?” you teased, sliding your hands down your stomach to your shorts. “But you were touching them so much earlier…”

“Did you like it?” he asked hopefully, his body leaning forward and falling on his knees on the floor, slowly crawling towards you and breathing heavily..

“This isn’t about my pleasure,” you sighed, your words contradicting how wet you were when your fingers made contact with your pussy.

“Why not?” Mark asked, on his knees in front of you, looking at your fingers move up and down under the fabric of your shorts.He swallowed back a moan at the way your teasing touch felt on his own body thanks to the potion. “Why can’t it be?”

“I just w-want the best for my b-business,” you said stubbornly between moans, getting closer to your orgasm when a pair of strong hands stopped yours from moving and you gasped. “M-mark?” 

“Then we should test this shit right, don’t you think?” Mark asked through gritted teeth, his eyes displaying the same red color you saw when he fucked your throat weeks ago. 

“T-test it right?” you repeated dumbly, as he took your hand out of your shorts.

“Do you normally just meet up with sexual partners, watch each other touch themselves and call it a day?” Mark asked you nonchalantly. 

“N-no, but…”

“Isn’t the entire point of this to feel if our partner likes what we do to them?” he clarified, gently placing his hands on each of your knees.

 You froze at his words. Was he suggesting you touched each other? You already liked him way too much for what would be a normal crush. You knew you would fall for him badly if you two went any further.

“Let me,” Mark pleaded, moving his palms up and down your thighs and applying more pressure on a spot on your inner thigh he literally felt you liked better. 

Would it really be that bad to give in? To enjoy yourself a little? To allow yourself to feel something for him?

“Okay…” you finally said and Mark didn’t waste a single second more, pulling your tiny shorts off and groaning at the sight of your wet panties sticking to your pussy. He licked you languidly through the thin fabric and moaned loudly at both the way you tasted and his own body receiving the pleasure he was giving you. 

“O-oh my god,” he whined leaning back in, this time more aggressively, moving his head up and down and lapping and sucking brutally.

“F-fuck,” you moaned, trying to close your legs around Mark’s head, who didn’t seem to care at all. He hummed and slid his hands up your thighs to your ass, grabbing your buttcheeks and pushing you against him harder, which made you tremble and throw your head back. “Mark, oh god, M-mark I’m-...I’m gonna-”

Mark knew. He felt how close you had been to coming so many times in the last half an hour. He himself was close too, so he used one of his hands to stroke himself in sync with his tongue, bringing both of you to such a powerful orgasm you couldn’t even moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body tensed. Your legs fell off Mark’s shoulders as he continued licking you obsessively. 

“Mark,” you moaned, trying to push his head away weakly. “I’m s-sensitive, Mark.”

Again, he knew. He was trembling himself at the overstimulation, but he didn’t want it to end. “Please,” he whined when you managed to put some distance between you. “Just a little bit more, please,” he begged desperately tugging at your panties which ended up tearing apart in his hands. You gasped and he looked at the ruined material he was holding in his hands. He seemed as confused as you were. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he muttered. You remembered how he had told you that he was stronger than he looked, how he had broken one of your best selling toys and now he had destroyed a pair of panties without even trying. Fuck, the things he could do to you. 

You loved it.

You loved him.

Wait, what? You knew your crush on him was weird, because of how your body reacted to your first encounter, how your mind would go to him 24/7 and how you really wanted him to…bite you?? You looked at him, on his knees, staring back at you cautiously; almost like he could tell what you were thinking, like he felt what you felt not only physically…but emotionally. The potion had worked so well, you could feel everything the other felt. The lust, love, possessiveness, the need he had to mate you, you felt it all. 

He had imprinted on you.

“Y/N…” he could sense it; you were terrified. He reached for your hand, but you quickly stood up, pulling your shirt down and walking away from him with wobbly legs, ignoring your ripped panties sliding down your legs. “Y/N, come on…” he called, standing up and going after you, stopping when you turned back to him, offering him an envelope with his payment. 

“Thank you for your help,” you said robotically, looking at the door instead of him, indicating it was his time to leave. 

Mark glared darkly at the damn envelope in your hands. There you went again, being intimate with him, making him feel like his heart could burst out of happiness and then throwing cash at him like he was a hooker. Why did you have to make it feel so dirty? He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to let you go, but maybe he shouldn’t push it too hard. Maybe you needed some space and you could talk later.

“Keep the money,” he sighed, walking uncomfortably towards the door due to the stickiness in his pants. “See you.”

“You won’t,” you spitted, flinching when he turned around quickly and glared at you. “We w-won’t be calling you for future testing.”

Mark tightened his jaw and stared at you for what felt like an entire minute before he decided he was done being the nice guy. Fuck it. If this was the last time he would see you, he wanted to at least know what your fucking problem was. 

“Why not?” he asked, walking towards you and feeling the anxiety build up in your body while you took some steps back. “Didn’t I satisfy you?”

You looked away. You knew it wasn’t fair to treat him like he was part of a transaction, but you didn’t think you were ready for what a wolf imprinted on you meant.

“We came at the same time, didn’t we? We felt everything the other person felt-we still do,” he continued, chuckling when he felt the way your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Didn’t I prove my worth as a test subject? Aren’t I the perfect little toy you wanted?”

His words were playful, but you felt the pain and anger behind them.

“You’re not a toy,” you said as firmly as you could.

“Then don’t treat me like one,” Mark growled. 

“When did I ever-”

“You keep shoving money into my pocket and kicking me out as soon as you’re done with me-”

“That was the deal!” you yelled exasperatedly.

“Screw the deal!” he raised his voice too. “ I can literally feel how much you want me. How much you want me to stay. So why are you making me leave? How long are you going to play with my feelings?” he paused, taking a deep breath in and trying to tune into your emotions, trying his best to understand you. “Are you-...afraid of me?” The way your level of anxiety skyrocketed gave him the answer he needed. “Why? B-because I’m a werewolf? Because of my strength?” he asked sadly.

“No, that’s…that’s not a problem for me,” you admitted shyly. Not wanting to say you were into that.

“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked.

“You imprinted on me,” you confronted him.

“...Yes,” he calmly confessed.

“These…feelings,” you tried to explain, pointing at your body vaguely. “All these things you’re feeling right now, and that now I can feel too… do you- do you feel them all the t-time?”

“Yeah, especially when I think about you,” he sighed. “...which is pretty much all the time.”

“H-how-” you breathed with difficulty. “How do you c-control them? They are so…intense.”

“I don’t,” Mark simply said. “I tried to tone them down at first, but I just made it harder for myself. I accept them and let them control me once in a while.”

“L-let them control you?!” you repeated incredulously. 

“Ah, so this is what this is about,” Mark threw his head back and let out a breathy laugh. “You have control issues.”

 You scoffed, walking angrily towards the kitchen. Not that you had anything to do there, you just wanted to get away.

“Am I wrong?” he challenged, chasing after you. “You’re annoyed because you can’t control the way you feel for me,” he cornered you against the kitchen counter, making you face his red eyes. “And you can’t control me.”

 You visibly shivered at that. “Mark…” 

“I came here because I wanted you. I ate you out because I’ve wanted to taste you since I first saw you. I love feeling this way about you and I have no intention of controlling it,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you, leaving almost no space between you.

 You breathed heavily. His feelings were too intense for your body to take. “Then who’s g-going to be in control?” you asked nervously.

He chuckled. “None of us,” he replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just let go,” he purred against your lips. “Allow yourself to feel it. Feel me.”

So you did. You crashed your lips against his and brought his body into yours desperately, tugging at his hair and moaning wantonly. He cursed under his breath and shoved his tongue into your mouth, tasting every bit of you he could. You pulled away to breath, which was still hard with how tense you were. “Relax,” Mark murmured, kissing down your neck and nipping at your collarbones. “Feel everything. I got you, pretty girl.”

 You inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling all tension leave your body while Mark’s mouth and hands worshiped your body. A warm sensation filled you and a shiver ran down your spine when you allowed yourself to lose control. “F-fuck, oh my god, Mark-” you moaned out loud when he took your shirt off and attached himself to your tits, licking them obscenely. There was nothing soft and gentle about the way you both were behaving, with your fingers pulling his hair and him humping you desperately, like you both couldn’t wait any longer. The fact that you could feel anything the other could, made it a thousand times more intense. 

“F-fuck I’m gonna cum like this,” Mark whined, rutting his clothed cock against your bare pussy faster, burying his head between your breasts and holding your body tightly against his. The constant friction on your clit had you gasping for air and you soon felt yourself cumming, staining his pants and shaking at the second orgasm you two had shared that night. 

Before you had any time to recover, Mark lifted you off the ground and sat you on the kitchen counter, taking his shirt off and stepping out of his pants and boxers carelessly. He positioned himself between your legs and pressed his naked body against yours, bringing your lips to his for another passionate kiss, and allowing his hands to touch every corner of you. 

Unconsciously you found yourself pressing your hips into his, moaning at the wet sounds that could be heard whenever his cock moved against your wet pussy. He was panting heavily into the messy kiss, physically shaking because of how much he wanted to be inside of you.

“Put it in, god, please, put it in,” you begged him.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, giving you one last kiss before lining up his cock with your entrance and wincing when he could barely slide the tip in. “Y/N, y-you can’t take it-”

“I can, please-please Mark I...,” you slurred your words, grabbing his hips and trying to force him deeper into you. “I c-can.”

“You’re in pain, Y/N,” Mark hissed. The effects of the potion had faded away, but he wasn’t an idiot. He only needed to look at his size and then at yours.

“But, Mark,” you whined, kissing a spot on his neck that had him moaning out loud. “I really want it.”

He took a moment to think.He wanted it too, but he didn’t want to hurt you. 

“J-just go slowly, hmm?” you suggested as an alternative to stopping completely. 

Mark nodded. Slow, yeah. He could do that. “D-don’t move,” he warned you, sliding just a tiny bit more of his huge dick into your tight wet hole and groaning when your walls contracted around him. Okay, maybe he couldn’t do it. “Y/N, don’t do that…”

 He looked up to your face and saw that it was pointless to give you any orders right now. Your unfocused eyes and the way you bit your lip created an erotic sight that he would never be able to forget. “Fuck, Y/N” he pushed into you some more while looking at your blissful face and laughed in disbelief. “You’re fucking loving this, aren’t you?” he asked. When you only nodded dumbly, he inhaled sharply and kissed you hungrily, snapping his hips into yours harshly and holding your spasming body against his.

“Shit, d-did you just come?!” Mark asked incredulously, delivering kisses on the corner of your lips and all over your face while you sobbed. “You’re f-fucking insane, did you k-know that?” he spoke as he started fucking you fast and rough from the get go. “So pretty and s-sensitive, just for me.”

“S-so big,” you cried out.

“Yeah?” he cooed, changing the way he was fucking you to slow but deep. “Too big for my pretty girl?” god, he just loved how your eyes rolled back into your head and your hands reached blindly for something to hold onto, dropping a few kitchen supplies into the floor. “But you said you c-could take it, didn’t you?” he asked, thrusting into you particularly hard and making you scream.

“I gah-I c-can, I can,” you insisted, tears running down your face, which Mark quickly wiped off before he kissed you. “F-uh, faster-” you whined in between kisses.

“Faster?” Mark’s crimson eyes gleamed mischievously, and his hips snapped into yours fast twice, teasing you. “Is this no good?” he asked, resuming his slow pace at sliding in and out of you. You shook your head and tried to bring him closer with your legs around his waist. “Don’t you want to feel every.inch.of.me?” he hissed, accentuated each of the last words with sharp thrusts into your pussy.

You murmured something that Mark couldn’t quite understand, so he stopped his movements to let you catch your breath. “What was that?” he asked you, caressing your cheek. “Tell me, pretty girl.”

“B-bite me…” you croaked weakly.

 Mark’s cock twitched inside of you and it took all of his self control not to come right in that moment. 

“Don’t play with me, Y/N…” he warned you.

You shook your head, moving your hips against his and pulling his hair to bring him dangerously close to your neck. He gasped, salivating at the chance he was being given.

“Bite me, Mark…” you repeated and shuddered when he snarled against your skin and sank his teeth into your neck. You mewled and threw your head back, holding onto his shoulders. “O-oh god, Mark, M-mark fuck-ah!” 

 Without detaching his mouth from your neck, Mark went back to fucking you, this time fast and animalistically like you had asked him to, the pace so fierce that your moans were coming out as staccatos. 

“Uh-uh-aah-ah fuck-fuck, Ma-ark!” you sobbed, sure he was gonna break you, but loving every second of it. 

Mark could not stop as his cock started growing inside of you. “Y/N, Y/N shiiit gonna-...gonna k-knot you fuh- fuck, s-so pretty,” he panted against your neck, giving it gentle kisses as an apology for what he was about to do. “Oh, fuck- ooooh yeah, y-yeah-” he gasped and plunged into you viciously fast, letting his eyes roll to the back of his head and drooling all over your neck  as his abdomen contracted and spurts of cum spilled into you, knot securing it all inside your tight pussy. “Y/N-...Y/N, fuck,” he groaned as you scratched his back, leaving angry red marks all over him.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out once his fluttering heart calmed down enough for him to speak. “My pretty girl,” he purred, pecking your neck and then looking for your lips to kiss you lovingly. “All mine.”

“Yours,” you murmured against his lips, allowing him to kiss you again and again. "And you're mine."

“Does that mean you won’t try your potions on other men?” he asked you, half joking, half serious. 

“Why would I need to? You’re my perfect little toy, after all,” you teased him back, making him groan at the way you used his own words against him. “I’m joking.You’re not a toy,” you clarified, kissing him sweetly and looking into his eyes. “But you’re perfect.”

[literaila]

stay

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you're in denial (no you're not)

warnings: pining, no plot

a/n: i had to give you a little look at what they do when they're alone

last part | next part

*

year two.

“what?” satoru asks, his voice blurred in the haze you're thinking in. 

honestly, you haven't been looking at him for that long. 

you've only been watching his arms as they move across the sink, veins drenched in water, hands scrubbing at a pot that you've made his responsibility. 

you've only been thinking about him for the past five years. the way his mouth moves when he's focused, the subtle curve of his jaw from this angle. 

and you're only staring now because you don't want him to mess up the kitchen. god knows how much it's worth. 

you shake your head, subtle grin disappearing automatically. “hmm?” 

“you’re staring at me.” 

you blink. “oh. sorry.” 

you and him both know that there's no denying it. 

“and you think i’m spacey,” satoru mutters, turning to you with his arms crossed, a smirk adorning his lips. apparently, he’s perfected his dad stance. “what do you want?” 

“what?" you look away, for one moment, when your heart feels a bit warm, then back to him. "why would i want something?” 

“that’s what tsumiki does when she wants something.” 

“well, unlike tsumiki, i’m not a child, so…” 

“i beg to differ,” satoru leans towards you, raising a brow. “what are you? thirteen?” 

he's different like this--when he knows that you're paying attention. 

so ridiculously stupid that you can't look away from him. 

“you are a single year older,” you tell him, “and i had to teach you how to do the dishes. our age gap is easily filled by my years of experience—“ 

“blah blah blah,” satoru interrupts, rolling his eyes, “hard work, torture, bills to pay. we get it.” 

you shrug, lip twitching. “you started it.” 

“by being born?” satoru asks, fluttering his eyelashes, trying his hand at flirting with you. 

unfortunately, he's dreadful at it. even with his waggling eyebrows and throat when he swallows. 

“oh my god,” you put a hand to your chest, mock shocked. “did i forget to become clan head the second i was born? my bad.” 

“seriously. slacker.” 

you roll your eyes.

then you turn to the counter again, messing with a stack of bills satoru has left there. you're probably going to be the one to deal with them anyway. 

it's been twenty minutes since you put the kids to bed--frowning at satoru when he swore that they'd already brushed their teeth (they hadn't)--and you've already lost sight of getting out of his house. 

some small part of you wants to stay, just so you can sneak some more glances at satoru.

“why are you staring at me?” he asks, nudging your arm with his hand. "get lost in my eyes?" 

you scoff. “i just zoned out, satoru.” 

“looking right at my face?” 

you smile deviously, reaching a hand out to trail a finger across his cupids bow. “i was contemplating the different plastic surgeries that could improve you.” 

satoru does nothing to push away your hand, but you snap it away when you feel him shiver. 

“please," he frowns. "we both know there’s no room for improvement.” 

you raise your brows. he says it more like a question than a statement, so you keep the same teasing smile on your face. 

“don’t be mean,” he says, pouting. 

“sorry.” 

“no, you’re not.” 

your smile brightens and you walk towards the door--listening to his heavy footsteps as he follows--and reach towards the hook for your coat.

you better leave before he convinces you to touch him again with nothing but his eyes.

“where are you going?” satoru continues pouting. 

“home? the kids are asleep.” 

he huffs. “but i’m not.” 

“do you need me to tuck you in?” 

“what if i do?” 

“tough luck, satoru," you shove his hand away from where it grabs your jacket. 

“c’mon,” he says, pulling at your wrist instead. “stay a little bit longer. let’s talk.” 

“all you ever want to talk about is digimon," you answer, rolling your eyes. 

you deny the fact that you'd probably listen to him talk about anything, just to hear the slight drawl in his throat or the teasing in his voice. 

“well, duh.” 

“and i don’t understand a single thing you say.” 

satoru pulls you towards him, even when you dig your heels into the floor. “you think after five years you’d trust me enough to take one of my recommendations," he says, chiding you. like he's the most trustworthy person you've ever met. 

like you might trust him with your life (you would). 

“last time i trusted any of your recommendations i almost got kicked out of school," you finally pull away, smoothing out your sleeves to put your jacket on. 

“first of all, that was your idea—“ 

“i was kidding.” 

“and i was just trying to cheer you up," his hands gesture to you, obviously, "plus yaga didn’t even care that much. it’s not like we crashed the car. he just had to threaten us or he would’ve gotten fired.”

you roll your eyes, zipping up your jacket. 

“stay,” satoru whines. “i get lonely when you’re not here.” 

“that’s because you’re supposed to be asleep.” 

“i can't sleep without you.” 

you scoff. “we’ve slept in the same room twice.” 

neither one of you dares to mention the several nights you’ve spent together on the couch or the brief moments when you wake up in the morning and realize who you’re clinging to. those are brief lapses in judgment. nothing more. 

“third times the charm,” satoru says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

despite his age, he is still a teenage boy. 

the same one you've liked since you were fifteen. 

“goodnight, satoru," you whisper, turning around. 

“don’t you get lonely in your apartment all alone?” he asks, almost pleading, spinning you around again from the hem of your jacket. “what if you have a nightmare?” 

because satoru has ever been concerned about a single thing that happens to you. 

you roll your eyes. “i wake up, like an adult, and remember that it’s not real.” 

satoru raises a brow. 

“seriously, it’s late. i need to go before—“ 

“stay.” 

“we’ve talked about this.”

“no. i make a suggestion, and you don’t listen.” 

“because i already know what you’re going to say.” 

“no, you don’t.” 

“‘c’mon, y/n, i have a bedroom just for you. it can even be mine if you want.’” 

“i don’t sound like that," he says frowning. though how could he deny the obvious?

“satoru, we need space--" more like you need space from him. several decades of space, just to catch your breath. "i can't spend every waking moment with you. i have a life.” 

“yeah, me.” 

you laugh, shaking your head (he's not wrong).

“just for tonight?” 

“no.” 

“just for an hour? what if one of them wakes up? you know i don’t know what to do," he says, very convincingly. his voice is quiet like he knows some sudden movements will scare you away. 

you pretend to pause, humming. “send them back to their rooms…?”

“please," he begs you, so close that his breath is almost yours. 

“no.” 

“we never get alone time anymore,” he pouts, “i miss you.” 

you know that he's using this to his advantage. like he's sure that his quiet voice and soft mouth will get you to break, will get you to stay here like you already want to. 

but you refuse. 

“stop.” 

“and it’s cold. you don’t want to go home yet," he acts like he can read your mind. 

“i promise you that i do," you reassure him, taking a step back. satoru only follows. 

“we can watch a movie or something," he answers like you've already agreed to this. "i saw a trailer for this dumb comedy and it looks—“ 

you groan. 

“what if i promise to sit on the other side of the couch?” he bargains.

“no," you frown, "you’re a liar.” 

“what if i let you pick the movie?” 

“no.” 

“what if i pay you to stay?" 

you flick his forehead. “are you kidding?” 

“please,” he repeats, softly, leaning even closer. “you don’t have to stay for long…” 

and it reminds you of every other time you've felt like your heart has disappeared. like your head has been eradicated by his low voice and his sparkling eyes. 

it feels like being the same teenager you might still be, hoping that something will come from his pleading. from yours, however unspoken. 

and you almost break, almost push him so far away--

but then there’s a tiny cough. and a sniffle. “y/n?” a voice asks, so soft you almost can't hear it over the sound of satoru’s ego. 

over the sound of your own beating heart. 

satoru smiles like he planned this all along. 

you sigh. “an hour,” you tell him, sternly. 

he only smiles, slinging an arm around your shoulder, spinning you both towards tsumiki. 

* 

you don’t say a thing when you wake up the next morning, sweat staining your neck, legs tangled in much longer ones. 

your head is pounding from a night spent on the couch. from so many hours spent laughing at satoru, at the stupid things he says. 

and he’s already looking at you like he could sense this moment coming. 

like he can see beyond you, into your soul. into the very wanting you're sure is on your face. 

you don’t say anything as you stare back into his eyes.

this is the one moment where he’s not allowed to comment on it. to make fun of you for your small smile, or laugh at your bed head. 

this moment is just for the two of you. the rest of the world can disappear, right now. every terrifying thing, every horrible mistake, completely eradicated by the sound of satoru's heart, his eyelashes as they flutter open and closed. 

you breathe in, almost about to say something. to break this thing before it can form. 

and then you hear something banging in the kitchen, and it’s time to get up. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[void-wolfie]

Forty-Five Days

summary: you come back on Valentine's Day after being away on a work trip.

pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader

words: 1.89k

tw: very fluffy (is there such a thing as too fluffy?), kissing, light making out, let me know if i forgot anything

a/n: happy valentine's day everybody! tried making this as fluffy as i could, not sure how i feel about this one, let me know what you guys think lol

Jenna checked her phone again; 5:15 pm, no new texts. You should be here any minute now. She looked around the crowded lobby, but there was no sign of you yet.

You'd just finished filming for a big project, somewhere in New Zealand. It was a long process, over five months to film. You'd only seen each other for a few days during the holidays and before you had to leave again.

She was excited, to say the least, and nervous. She hadn't seen you in over a month. It made her wonder how you managed to go all that time without seeing her when she had to travel.

Home just wasn't the same without you.

You searched the lobby for any sign of Jenna. It'd been forty-five days since you last saw her, which roughly translated to 1,080 hours or 64,800 minutes. And each minute you were away from her felt entirely more agonizing than the last. (and yes, you did all the math on the plane, it was a very boring flight).

Finally, your eyes settled on a short brunette standing off to the side, away from the crowds. Tan and layered in freckles, her sunglasses were on and one of your jackets was draped lightly over her shoulders. She had a cheeky grin, and you knew she'd been watching you look around cluelessly for at least a few minutes.

You tightened your grip on your luggage, breaking out into a jog to go greet your amazing girlfriend. The second you were close enough you dropped your bags and nearly tackled her into a hug.

"I missed you so much." You whispered, still hugging her as if it were the last thing you might do.

"I missed you more." You could hear the playful smile she wore, her happiness more contagious than the plague. But more than that, you could hear the relief in her voice.

You squeezed her even tighter. You needed this. You needed her. Forty-five days was too long.

"Baby, you have to let go," Her arms gently tugged at your hands, she didn't really want you to let go, but you two couldn't exactly stand around in the airport all day.

"Nooo, just a little longer," you whined, sounding a bit like a child about to throw a tantrum.

"Come on, you can hug me all you want when we get home, ok?"

"Fineeeeee," You sighed. You didn't exactly mind letting her go, knowing there'd be plenty of time for cuddles later, but it was always more fun to be dramatic.

The minute you let go of her, she stuck her hand out, a bouquet of roses held out in front of you, "Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

"You got me roses?" You weren't exactly the type for flowers, but the idea of Jenna going out of her way just to get you something had a way of making your heart melt.

"Yeah? I know you don't really do the whole flowers thing, but I saw them, and I thought of you so-"

She didn't even have to finish her sentence. Before she even had a chance to stop and ask what you were doing, you had hooked your finger into one of the belt loops of her jeans, tugged her in close, and kissed her with all the pent-up passion you had.

God those lips. That smile. Her scent alone was enough to drive you mad. Your whole world could be falling apart, and you couldn't care less as long as you had her in your life.

The kiss didn't last long, much to your disappointment. It did, however, leave Jenna a blushing mess, which was more than enough to leave you satisfied.

You reached into your coat pocket and pulled out a necklace, holding it out for Jenna to see, “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

It was a simple necklace, an ivory pendant held by a plain black cord. The pendant looked similar to a vertical infinity sign, except instead of one twist, there were two.

Jenna looked it over in her hands, admiring the craftsmanship and the tiny details.

“The symbol is called a pikorua, it represents two people coming together for eternity. Two people bonded by friendship and loyalty.”

You bounced on your heels nervously. You weren’t a hundred percent sure she’d like it, but the meaning behind it was too good to pass up. You wanted Jenna to have a reminder of your love, especially when you two were apart for work.

“I know it’s not much, but-”

“No, no, no. I love it, baby.” She looked up at you and gave you that smile, the one that made you weak in the knees and your heart all melty. “It’s beautiful.”

She gave you a small peck on the cheek. And despite the heavy kiss from just minutes ago, the small action still made you blush, your heart swelling with feelings you couldn't comprehend, "Come on, love. Let's go home."

Her smile. Her laugh. Her eyes. God this girl was your kryptonite.

You walked through the front door and immediately your jaw dropped.

"Jenna... is this?”

“Yeah…”

“…for me?”

“Yeah…”

“You did all this?"

“Yeah…” Silence. Tension filled the air. You could practically feel the nerves radiating off the girl next to you.

"I wanted to surprise you..." she fiddled with her hands, wringing her fingers nervously as you admired the scene in front of you. "Is it too much? It is, isn't it? I'll clean it up-"

"No!" You said it too fast, too forcefully, "No," You tried again, much more calmly this time, "I love it, baby, it's awesome. I just- I didn't expect this at all."

The house was completely decorated, like something straight out of a Hallmark movie. Candlesticks decorated tables and hallways, lighting up the whole house with a soft yellow glow. Red and pink balloons lined the doorway and silver garland hung from the ceiling. The dining table was adorned with a white tablecloth and a vase filled with more roses. A ‘welcome home’ banner hung over the dining table, swaying slowly as you stared at the painted black letters in awe.

This Girl.

She did all this… for you? Just to surprise you?

“Baby?” You felt her hand on your arm. You hadn’t even realized how long you'd been staring in silence.

You turned around to see her looking at you, her expression a mix of emotions. There was hope and fear, she was so worried you'd hate the decorations, she wanted you to like them. But at the same time, you could see the love in her eyes, whether you loved it or hated it, she only wanted you to be happy.

Your body seemed to move on instinct.

You leaned forward and kissed her without even thinking about it. Your hands gripped her waist and pulled her in closer, anything to be near her. Her hands seemed to naturally find their way up your face, cupping it as she kissed you back.

Forty-five days was too damn long.

The kisses turned into something more. Before you knew it, Jenna had you pushed up against a wall, her hands roaming under your shirt, leaving goosebumps wherever they traveled. Her lips were at your jaw, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. It took everything in you not to melt under her touch.

“Baby?” You breathed out, not sure how much more you had in you before your knees would give out.

“Bedroom?” She already knew what you were going to ask, her lips pressed into the base of your neck sent chills down your spine.

“Please.”

You woke up to the sunlight peeking through the window, filtering in between the blades of the blinds. You groaned, tossing and rolling back over in bed. Stupid sun… all you wanted was to sleep in…

You rolled over only to notice the void in the bed. Something was missing… or more like someone. Where was Jenna?

“Baby?” You called out, your voice hoarse and rough from sleep.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes taking in the state of the room. Candles all burnt out, clothes strewn in every direction, rose petals covering every surface like confetti, half the bed sheets covered the floor while the other half haphazardly covered you.

You could hear noises coming from somewhere outside the room. What is she doing?

You picked up one of Jenna’s t-shirts from the floor and threw it on before stumbling out to the living room. You followed the noises to the kitchen.

Jenna was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a sports bra, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She was working away in front of the stove, the smell of food cooking and something sizzling catching your attention.

You strolled up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. You didn’t have to look to know she was smiling, you could tell, it was in her body language. The way her muscles seemed to relax with you around, the little laugh she let out under her breath, the way she tried not to move too much so she wouldn’t jostle you around-

“Baby?” Her voice pulled you from thoughts.

“Hmmm?” You barely mumbled, your head still hazy with exhaustion. Between last night's activities and the jet lag from the flight, you were going to need at least a week to catch up on sleep.

There was that cute little laugh again, so quiet you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. “What are you doing up, love? I figured you’d be asleep for at least another hour.”

“I missed you,” you wrapped your arms around her a little tighter.

“I missed you too, baby.” She leaned over, kissing you on the cheek before going back to whatever she was doing.

Your eyes were half closed as you stood there, clinging to her like a koala with your face nestled into the side of her neck. Despite the fact you were standing, you were comfortable enough that you could almost fall back asleep, if it weren’t for her little movements, you probably would’ve already.

“What’re you doing?”  your voice came out all muffled from talking into her shoulder, but she seemed to understand what you meant.

“Making your favorite. I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed.” She could see you nodding off on her shoulder, it made her smile. She always found you extra cute when you were sleepy. “Why don’t you go back to bed, babe? I’ll be there in a bit.”

“No.” You meant to sound firm in your decision, but between your morning voice and how tired you were, you sounded like you were about half asleep already. Which wasn’t too far from the truth.

“Babe, go to bed, I’ll be there soon,” She chuckled, smiling at your resolve to stick with her even if you were basically already sleeping on her shoulder.

“I’m fineeeee. I’m going to stay right here and help you cook.”

And you did. You stood right there and ‘supervised’ as Jenna cooked one of your favorite meals, pancakes and bacon. Normally she would’ve pushed you out of the kitchen for being in her way, but after not being together for so long, she didn’t mind the intimacy.