#I needed to give someone some spice

[z0mbie2b0y]

I remember looking through my outline for a fanfic I was gonna dump, and then I saw a headcannon in it where Severus mom was East Asian and his dad was Romanian, and I was like

"Damn I was cooking"

[reilemon]

Return To You

♡︎ synopsis: You rely on Sylus to keep you warm on a winter getaway.

♡︎pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

♡︎ tags: fluff, oral (female receiving), love making (for a change)

♡︎ word count: 6.1k

♡︎ a/n: some cute holiday fluff for @hesperisms 💕✨

♡︎ Not beta read, but I'm still giving a shoutout to my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎.

divider by @anitalenia

The town square looks like a winter wonderland straight out of a postcard. Fairy lights shimmer like little stars from every tree, their warm glow reflected on the thin snowy blanket and salt-covered cobblestones. The air carries the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts, caramel apples, and spiced mulled wine – the aromas making your mouth water with every step as you lead, or better yet, drag Sylus towards the ice rink. You’d been eyeing the rink all night, and now, with only a handful of skaters, it’s the perfect time to venture out.

You turn to Sylus who is dressed impeccably, as always, his coat tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders. You can’t help but smile at his rosy cheeks and nose, the color from the winter air making him look less intimidating. Though, he still stands out in this festive setting.

"You’ve been indulging me all day," you say, leaning closer to him, pulling his focus back to you. "I think it’s time to try something fun together."

He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a small, amused smirk. "And your idea of fun is strapping blades to our feet and risking broken bones?"

You laugh. "C’mon, it’s almost empty!" You nod towards the skate rental stand. “Let’s go and get our skates!”

"Our?" he repeats. "I’m more than happy to watch you make a spectacle of yourself while I stay safely on solid ground."

You pout, crossing your arms over your winter coat. "That’s not fair. I’m not good at this, and I need someone strong to keep me upright."

Sylus doesn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze shifting back to the ice rink, then to you, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Don’t tell me you’ve never ice-skated before," you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

"I didn’t say that," he replies smoothly. "I’m simply saying I prefer to observe."

"That’s just a fancy way of saying you’re bad at it," you counter and playfully nudge his side with your elbow. "Please, Sylus? It’ll be fun. I promise not to let go of your hand."

His mouth opens as if to argue, but your wide-eyed, pleading look stops him. He exhales slowly, a puff of mist curling in the air between you, and shakes his head with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

"Fine," he mutters. "But if I fall, you’re to blame."

You beam at him, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the skate rental stand. "Deal! But I’m warning you now—I’m terrible at this, so we might both fall."

As the cheerful attendant hands over your skates, you glance up at Sylus.

"Thank you," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

"Don’t thank me yet," he replies, as he looks at the skates. "Let’s see if we survive this first."

As you step onto the rink, Sylus’ grip on your hand tightens, the grip of his gloved hand firm and his presence reassuring against the slippery unpredictability of the ice. He steps further, leading you slowly with him. His fitness and natural grace give him an edge, but you can tell by the slight furrow in his brow that he’s carefully adjusting to the sensation of skating.

"You need to keep your knees slightly bent," Sylus instructs as he glances down at you wobbling by his side.

You giggle nervously, your free hand flailing slightly for balance. "Easier said than done! This is harder than I remember."

He watches you with a mixture of amusement and focus as you take a cautious step forward. "Relax. Lean forward slightly— I know you can do it."

Following his instructions, you do as you’re told, feeling a little more stable as you start to glide, although slowly. Sylus moves alongside you, his strides smooth and confident now, his hand never letting go of yours.

"You’re a natural," you tease, grinning up at him.

"Hardly," he replies with a small smirk. "But at least one of us needs to stay upright."

The sound of your laughter fills the crisp air as you grow bolder, gliding a little faster, though your feet still wobble occasionally. Sylus keeps up with you effortlessly, his focus shifting between your movements and the icy terrain ahead. At one point, as you make a sharper turn, your skate catches slightly, making you stumble. Before you can hit the ice, Sylus’ arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you close.

"Careful, kitten." he murmurs, as he steadies you.

You laugh, your cheeks flushed from the cold and him. "Thank you. You’re like my personal safety net."

Sylus’ lips twitch in a faint smile, but he says nothing, his hand lingering on your waist for a moment longer before he releases you. Feeling emboldened after a few minutes of smooth gliding, you try to add a little twist, lifting your arms and attempting a small spin. The move immediately throws you off balance, and before you can topple over, Sylus catches you again, his grip firm but careful.

"No spins," he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

"But—"

"You’re going to hurt yourself," he interrupts. Even though he is serious, you can see that he’s amused by your confidence in your skills.

You pout playfully. "Fine. But only if you promise we’ll come back for more ice-skating dates until I can spin."

Sylus sighs, the mist leaving his lips with the faint smile. "Fine. We’ll come back. But only if you promise not to try anything reckless again."

"Deal," you say brightly, grabbing his hand again as you continue gliding across the ice.

Though Sylus was reluctant at first, he finds that skating isn’t so bad as he watches you enjoy yourself. The cold air bites at your cheeks, your laughter echoing in the winter night, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you on the shimmering ice.

���⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

After leaving the ice rink, a little flushed and breathless, Sylus leads you through the bustling rows of stalls. He buys you your favorite candy, while he picks out some odd, colorful confections for himself—strange mix of flavors that you wouldn’t have dared to try, but he seems intrigued.

As you stroll further, your eyes catch on a vibrant display of oversized plushies at a game stall. A particularly cute dragon plushie catches your attention, its soft fabric shimmering slightly under the lights. You figure that this is a good time to regain some dignity you lost on the ice. You step up to the booth, pay the attendant, and pick up the air rifle. The attendant’s jaw practically drops as you shoot all the targets effortlessly, and Sylus’ admiration shines evident as he watches you from the side.

“Is there any space left in your apartment for more toys?” he remarks as you hug the plushie to your chest.

You shrug with a self-satisfied smile. “If not, I’ll just bring some to you.”

He chuckles, slipping his hand into yours as you continue walking through the festive town, the dragon plushie tucked snugly under your arm.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Back at the cozy lodge, you push the door open, greeted by the warmth and the comforting scent of cedar and cinnamon. Sylus steps in behind you, his arms carrying bags of candies, trinkets, and wrapped gifts you’d picked out for your friends back home. You set your dragon plushie on the couch, fluffing its wings a little before turning to help him organize everything.  He puts down a bottle of on the kitchen counter and you find the small bundle of herbs you’d picked out. After setting everything down, you feel the weight of the day in your limbs. Your arms and thighs ache from all the skating and carrying bags, but it’s almost a satisfying buzz in your muscles.

Sylus turns to you, tilting his head slightly. “You’re slowing down,” he says.

“I’m not slowing down,” you protest, but a yawn betrays you. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“Come on,” he says, motioning toward the hallway. “Let’s clean up. The bathtub’s big enough to fit both of us.”

You glance at him, but he’s already on his way to the bathroom, so you follow behind, almost giddy at the thought of a relaxing bath.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

He adjusts the temperature in the shower while you start to light candles around the room. Steam begins to fill the air, carrying the faint scent of the bath salts you placed by the tub. Stripping down, you step into the shower together. The warm spray cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the day’s adventures.

Once clean, you both step out and towel off. Sylus moves to the bathtub, sprinkling the bath salts into the hot water, the scent rising as he swirls the water with his hand, testing the temperature.

“Perfect,” he murmurs and takes your hand in his, helping you step into the tub first.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips as the hot water envelops you, the salts already working their magic on your tired muscles. Sylus follows, settling in across from you his broad shoulders just visible above the water’s shimmering surface. His silver hair clings to his forehead in damp strands, and his gaze is softened by the dim light as he takes in the sight of you.

You let out a long sigh, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean your head back against the bath pillow. “Well,” you mumble, “goodnight.”

A low, amused chuckle rumbles from his chest. Without a word, his leg nudges yours under the water, his foot brushing lightly against your calf, making your eyes flick open and look at him in mock annoyance.

“You can’t fall asleep here,” he says with a grin tugging at his lips.

You grin back, letting your toes nudge his shin in retaliation. “I wouldn’t. There’s hardly any room for my legs anyway, with yours taking up all the space.”

Sylus shifts slightly, the movement causing ripples across the water’s surface, as he lifts a hand and gestures toward you.

"Come here." he says, his voice low.

Your heart skips a beat at the invitation, but you don’t hesitate. Shifting forward, you move carefully through the water, as you settle in the space between his legs. He reaches up, his hands brushing lightly against your shoulders, and the weight of them is reassuring, grounding.

“Would you like a massage?” he asks, his breath warm against your damp neck.

“Yes, please,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

His hands begin to move, firm but gentle at the same time, starting at the curve of your shoulders. His thumbs press into the tense muscles there, working out knots you didn’t realize were still lingering from the day. A sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. His hands slide down, from your shoulders to your arms, taking a moment to squeeze gently at the tension in your biceps before moves on the muscles of your upper back. Every touch melts away the strain of the evening. The water sways gently around you both, the soft ripples lapping against your skin.

“You’re easy to please,” he murmurs, a faint smile audible in his tone.

“Not true,” you counter, though the words lack conviction “Okay, maybe a little true.”

“You’re good at this,” you admit, your voice drowsy from the combination of his touch and the heat of the bath. His hands move to the back of your neck, his thumbs pressing into just the right spot to make you exhale deeply.

“I know. I have good hands.” he replies with amusement in his tone.

You laugh softly, letting your head rest against his chest for a moment as his hands finish their slow journey over your back, neck, and arms. Then, his hands slide around you, wrapping gently across your middle. You let out a soft, contented sigh as you fully lean back against him. Sylus rests his chin against the top of your head as he adjusts to hold you more snugly, his breath tickling the crown of your head. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Your eyes flutter closed, and you know that his are likely closed too, the tension you sensed in him earlier replaced by a rare ease.

You shift slightly, turning your cheek to rest against his chest, and the subtle vibration of his breath hums beneath your skin. You rest your hands on his forearms, your thumbs to kneading gently into his muscles. He hums in approval, the low sound vibrating against you.

Sylus’ hands start to move, his palms gliding over your stomach, as they settle on the curve of your waist, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive dip of your sides. Your breath catches as his hands venture lower, skimming over your thighs. His fingers linger there, kneading the muscle with firm, expert precision, but your legs remain closed. A soft moan escapes your lips, and you feel Sylus’ breath against your neck as he leans forward. His lips press against the curve where your shoulder meets your neck, planting slow, languid kisses that send tingling warmth through you.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. His hands shifting upward now, his fingers grazing just beneath the swell of your breasts, his touch featherlight, drawing another gasp from you.

Your heartbeat quickens as his hands finally move higher, cupping your breasts. His palms glide over the soft, wet skin, his thumbs circling your nipples in a way that makes you arch slightly against him, pressing into his chest. The combination of his teasing touch and the sensation of his lips against your neck leaves you utterly lost in the moment.

His lips trail higher, brushing against your jawline, before the warmth of Sylus' hands leaves your skin. His palms slide gently from your breasts before wrapping around your middle. He presses a kiss to your temple. "The water’s getting cold," he murmurs, his embrace tightening for just a moment.

You sigh, reluctant to leave the comfort of the tub and his embrace. "You’re right." you reply, your voice tinged with disappointment.  

Sylus is the first to step out of the tub, water dripping down his toned physique as he offers you a hand. His grip is firm, steadying you as you rise, goosebumps spreading all over your wet skin. Your gaze unintentionally drops—and there it is. Your cheeks burn, and Sylus catches your look, a teasing smirk curling at his lips. “We’ll handle that later.” he says smoothly.

You bite your lip as you avert your gaze, heart fluttering as you grab a towel. After you dry off and pull on your bathrobe, the plush fabric warm against your skin, an idea pops into your head. Still slightly damp, you practically skip to your luggage bag.

Sylus watches you with a raised brow, leaning casually against the doorframe as he ties his robe around his waist. “What are you up to now?”

“Wait and see!” you say, as you unzip the bag and pull out the matching pajama set you’d hidden there—a playful, festive pattern of candy canes and gingerbread men. It smells faintly of your fabric softener, the scent wafting up as you hold it out to him.

Sylus takes the set from your hands, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the goofy design. He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d pick something like this,”

“You’re wearing it,” you say firmly with a giddy smile.

With a mock sigh of resignation, Sylus slips into the pajamas, the soft fabric snug against his frame. You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, but he catches the gleam in your eyes.

“Laugh it up,” he says. "I’ll remember this.”

You grin unabashedly, slipping into your matching set before leading him out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen, eager to make mulled wine. Sylus opens the wine bottle while you gather the spices and a small pot. The two of you move seamlessly, your bodies brushing now and then as you prepare. The smell of cinnamon, cloves, and citrus soon fills the air, mixing with the aroma of red wine. As the wine simmers gently on the stove, Sylus excuses himself briefly, heading toward the living room. Moments later, the faint sound of a match striking is followed by the soft crackle of the fireplace. The warm scent of wood begins to fill the air, mingling with the spicy aroma of the mulled wine bubbling in the kitchen.

When he returns to the stove, you leave the kitchen to him and go around the other rooms, gathering every pillow and blanket you could find. Then you go to the living room where you arrange them into a cozy nest on the plush rug, settling everything just right by the fire. Satisfied with your work, you sit down and wrap yourself in one of the soft blankets, snuggling into it as you hold a well-loved box of Travel Size Kitty Cards in your hands.

When Sylus steps into the room carrying two steaming mugs of mulled wine, his lips quirk into an amused smile as he takes in the sight of you, warm and snug, holding the deck of cards. “Do you really want to spend the evening losing to me at this?”

“Losing?” You pout, shuffling the cards with more determination now. “You think you’re so good at this game, don’t you? Luck doesn’t count as skill.”

Sylus arches a brow. “Luck is a skill when you know how to use it.” He says as he sits across from you.

You roll your eyes, finishing the shuffle and placing the deck between you. “Alright, three rounds. I’ll win at least two, and when I do—” you lean forward with a cocky grin— “we’re buying matching reindeer onesies tomorrow.”

He shakes his head. “Reindeer onesies? That’s your wager?” He pauses, feigning deep contemplation, then leans closer. “Fine. But if I win, you’re wearing the gift I got you for the rest of the night.”

Your cheeks immediately heat at his words, your mind conjuring up images of delicate lace. You try to play it cool, though your blush betrays you, and you can’t quite meet his gaze. “Oh,” you murmur, “alright. Deal.”

His eyes catch every flicker of your expression. “You seem eager for me to win.”

You sigh, grabbing the deck of cards and start setting up the game. “Don’t get cocky, Sylus.” But as you focus on your hand, you find yourself secretly rooting for him, curious to see what he has picked out for you.

“Let’s see, then,” he murmurs, his voice rich with confidence as he picks up his cards. “Try to keep up.”

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Sylus shakes his head as he gathers the cards, sliding them back into the little box, his smug grin never leaving his face.

"First round victory got you cocky," he teases. "And that, kitten, was your undoing."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. "The wine clouded my judgment," you huff, your tone a mix of irritation and playful defiance.

Sylus chuckles as he sets the box aside. "We both know that’s not true," he replies. "You’ve had, what? One mug? Hardly enough to make you lose focus. So, really… it’s just you."

His grin widens as he leans back on one hand, utterly at ease while you sit there pouting. The firelight catches in his eyes, and the smugness radiating off him is maddening.

You feel your cheeks flush—not just from the fire or the wine. He’s right; you’re not drunk. The wine has only left you feeling perfectly warm, relaxed and a little tingly. And, unfortunately, that buzz has also heightened your awareness of him—the way he’s watching you, the faint curve of his lips both infuriating and unbearably attractive. You grumble something unintelligible, sinking further into your blanket cocoon, but Sylus, with his insufferable smirk, isn’t about to let you escape the moment unscathed.

He rises gracefully from the rug and he strides toward the bedroom. You watch him go, the wine’s gentle buzz amplifying your anticipation.

What could it be?

Your first thought is lingerie—something delicate and lacy, designed to make you blush the moment you open it. A dress, perhaps? you wonder. But then you dismiss the idea with a shake of your head; Sylus has already gifted you a breathtaking dress for the holiday banquet earlier this season. Maybe it’s a ridiculous onesie, you think. A cat? A sheep? Something he’d insist you wear just to tease you mercilessly the entire night. The mental image makes your cheeks flush, not entirely from embarrassment—because, honestly, you’d probably wear it, just to see that rare, carefree laugh of his.

Before your thoughts spiral further, Sylus returns, with a small box in his hands. Your breath catches. The unmistakable blue hue and the satin white bow make your eyes widen. He settles down across from you, and holds the box out. His smiles softly. "One of the gifts I brought for you," he says. "I thought it fitting for the trip."

Your heart flutters as you accept the gift. You gently tug at the bow, setting aside the satin ribbon, and your fingers tremble slightly as you lift the lid of the box. Your smile stretches wide the moment you see the necklace nestled inside the box, a heart-shaped pendant glimmering in the room’s dim light. Joy bubbles up in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you lunge forward, wrapping Sylus in a tight hug.

"Thank you," you murmur against his shoulder.

His arms hold you firmly for a brief moment before you pull back just enough to plant a smooch on his lips, quick and filled with gratitude. He smiles against your lips, his hand brushing over your back before you settle back into your spot to admire the necklace again. You lift the chain, examining every detail of the stunning craftmanship. But as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you notice something different. Your brow furrows, and you tilt the pendant closer.

The usual engraving isn’t there.

Instead, in elegant script, you read: Please return to Onychinus N109 Zone.

Your heart flutters, the customization turning an already beautiful gift into something deeply personal.

Sylus notices your pause and leans forward slightly, his voice low and warm. "It felt more fitting this way."

You glance up at him, and all you can do is nod.

"Let me," he says softly, reaching for the necklace. You hand it to him, and he moves closer, draping the chain around your neck. His fingers brush against your skin as he fastens it, sending a small shiver down your spine. He leans back to admire his work, his eyes gleaming as they move from the pendant to your face.

"It suits you," he says.

"Thank you," you say again, your fingers brushing over the pendant, feeling its cool surface against your skin.

Sylus’ lips curl into a playful smirk as his gaze dips briefly to your outfit. "But those pajamas don’t really go with it."

You roll your eyes at the comment, but as you replay his words, you stop. Your eyes narrow in mock accusation. "Wait…"

Wear my gift for the rest of the night.

Your face heats, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coiling in your stomach as you glance down at the necklace. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the way his eyes haven’t left yours.

"I—" you start, but the words catch in your throat as he shifts closer to you.

Sylus’ hands move slowly to the hem of your pajama top, his fingertips delicately brushing against the fabric, his eyes locked on your face, waiting for your permission. Wordlessly, you lift your arms, and his lips quirk in a soft smile. He takes his time pulling the top over your head, the cool air of the room kissing your skin as it becomes bare. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps rising along your arms and chest as your pajama top is discarded.

"I’m going to be cold the rest of the night now," you pout, half-joking.

Sylus leans forward, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. When he pulls back, he whispers against your lips. "I’ll make sure you stay warm."

His words send a jolt of heat straight to your core as he guides you down, his weight pressing you into the soft blanket beneath. Your legs part instinctively, inviting him closer. Sylus hovers over you, his lips finding yours in a slow, intoxicating kiss. The faint taste of wine clings to him, rich and heady, as his tongue teases yours. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him deeper, needing him closer. He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he rolls his hips, grinding his hardness against your craving heat.

The sudden pressure against your clothed pussy makes you gasp into his mouth, your body arching into him as you feel the hard length of him straining against the fabric of his pajamas. Sylus pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his red eyes dark with hunger, his lips slick and swollen from the kiss. The firelight flickers over his sharp features, making him look devastatingly irresistible. His hips roll against yours again, grinding just right, pulling a desperate gasp from your lips as heat pools deep in your core.

He leans in, his breath tickling your skin before he drags his lips slowly along your pulse, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that make your body arch into him. His tongue flicks over your skin, tasting you, the scrape of his teeth making you shiver beneath him.

He shifts slightly, his mouth traveling lower, trailing kisses down to your chest. A soft moan escapes your lips when his lips capture the peak of one breast. His tongue swirls around your nipple, teasing before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently. At the same time, his fingers find your other breast, kneading it with care, his thumb circling the sensitive bud, the attention making you arch into his touch.

"Sylus," you whisper, his name tumbling from your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair again, holding him close to you.

He hums in response, the vibration adding to the sensation as his mouth continues savoring your body. His free hand skims down your side, tracing every curve, every dip, before settling at your waist. He releases your breast with a soft, wet sound, his lips immediately finding your belly. Then, his kisses trail lower, each press of his mouth against your skin making your impatience grow, but his hands steady your hips as his lips linger just above the waistband of your pajama pants.

His eyes flick up to meet yours. The way he looks at you—hungry, tender, and utterly devoted—makes your breath catch. The heat pooling between your thighs becomes unbearable, your panties damp with need as you writhe beneath him.

Finally, Sylus hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear, pulling them down in one smooth motion. His tongue darts out to wet his lips when he takes in the sight of you, bare and ready for him. Sylus starts slow, savoring every moment as his lips plant tender kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

"You’re trembling," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider. "So responsive... so beautiful."

The warmth of his breath fans over your dripping pussy, teasing, as he lets his lips linger just close enough for you to feel the ghost of a touch. Finally, his mouth moves to where you need him most. His tongue flattens against your folds, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you gasp, your hips bucking instinctively toward his mouth. His tongue circles your clit, before his lips close around the swollen bundle of nerves, sucking gently at first, then harder as he finds the rhythm that makes your moans turn into cries.

One hand remains on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him, while the other slides up. His middle finger traces along your entrance, teasingly dipping in before retreating, then plunging back in, this time to the knuckle. He groans against your clit, as if the sensation of you gripping his finger drives him just as wild. He adds a second finger, his long digits stretching you, curling just right to press against your sweet spot. The dual sensation of his mouth and fingers has you writhing beneath him, drawing you closer to the edge. His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds mixing with your breathless cries.

Your thighs quiver, and he knows you’re close - his fingers curl deeper, pressing harder against that perfect spot as his lips suck your clit relentlessly. Your orgasm rips through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls clamp around his fingers as your body arches off the rug, your cries filling the room as the pleasure pulses through every inch of you. Sylus doesn’t stop, prolonging your high as his tongue and fingers coax every last tremor of pleasure from your body until you’re trembling, gasping his name in broken, desperate whines.

Finally, he slows, withdrawing his fingers and pressing one last lingering kiss to your oversensitive clit, his lips curling into a smug smile as he looks up at you, his chin glistening with your release.

"My beautiful girl," he whispers, as he kisses the inside of your thigh one last time before sitting up. "All mine."

He takes off his pajama shirt, and in one fluid motion, he pulls off his pajama bottoms, leaving him completely bare. Your breath hitches at the sight of him, his cock thick, long, and hard. His eyes lock onto yours as he leans down, positioning himself between your legs. You gasp softly as the tip of his cock glides through your folds, his length sliding back and forth, coating himself in your mixed fluids. The sensation alone has you trembling, your legs instinctively parting wider for him.

Then, slowly, he presses against your entrance, the thick head of his cock stretching you as he begins to slide in, his eyes locked on you as your body takes in every inch. When he bottoms out, he pauses, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried deep. The sensation of being so completely filled sends waves of pleasure radiating through your body, leaving you gasping. His weight shifts as he lowers himself onto his elbows, bringing your bodies closer, his chest brushing against yours. He captures your lips in a slow kiss, making your head spin. His hips start to move, rolling against you in a languid rhythm drawing soft moans from you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel more of him, your heels digging into his lower back. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the taut muscles as he moves. His cock drags against your walls with each thrust, hitting spots that leave you gasping into his mouth. He swallows every sound, his kiss growing more feverent, his breath ragged as his body molds against yours. His hips grind against yours, his cock pressing deeper, harder, as you cling to him, your nails digging into his back.

Sylus’ pace begins to slow, his hips rolling more languidly as his lips break from yours.

“I need you closer.” he murmurs.

Without waiting for a response, he shifts his weight, one arm wrapping securely around your waist as he leans to the side, taking you with him. You gasp softly as your bodies roll together, your legs untangling briefly before one of his slips between yours.

Now on your sides, your bodies are pressed together so tightly you can feel his heartbeat. His arm stays snug around your waist, pulling you even closer, while his other hand cradles the back of your head. Your chest presses against his, and your hands rest against him, one lightly squished between your bodies. The other moves instinctively to his neck, your fingertips feeling his warmth, his pulse. Your leg hooks over his hip instinctively, granting him better access as his hips begin to move again.

The new angle makes you moan, his cock hitting even deeper, the angle forcing you to take all of him, and you clutch at his neck, your nails grazing his skin.

"My love." he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple as you press your face into his chest, overwhelmed by the closeness, the way he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in his world.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your lips parting slightly. His eyes burn into yours, before his mouth captures yours in a deep, hungry kiss. The base of his cock presses perfectly against your clit with each thrust, the friction sending sparks of heat shooting through you. You’re helpless against the pleasure building inside, your breaths ragged and broken as his rhythm pushes you closer to the edge.

His hand on your back tightens, pulling you flush against him, the slick grind of his pelvis teasing that swollen, aching bud mercilessly. You arch into him, your nails digging into the hard muscle of his chest, and your gasps turn into needy, breathless cries.

“Just like that,” he rasps, his eyes stay locked on your face, devouring every flicker of pleasure that twists across your features. "Let me see you fall apart for me."

The way his cock fills you, stretching you with every roll of his hips, combined with the perfect pressure against your clit, is too much. Your body coils tighter, your thighs trembling where they’re hooked around his waist.

“Sylus…” you whimper, your voice trembling.

“Come for me,” he growls, one still cradling your head, the other pressing your back to him like he can’t stand even a breath of distance between you.

The tension inside you snaps, your body locks tight, your walls squeezing his cock with desperate intensity, milking him as a guttural moan escapes his throat. He thrusts into you harder, deeper, grinding his pelvis against your swollen clit, wringing every last pulse of pleasure from your throbbing pussy. Your cries fill the room, your entire body trembling in his arms. Sylus holds you through it all, his movements never faltering, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you as you ride out your high.

"That’s it." he murmurs tenderly, his gaze never leaving your face, memorizing the way you look in this moment—completely undone, completely his.

But he doesn’t stop - his hips keep rolling into you, his cock dragging against the oversensitive walls of your pussy, the friction is almost too much.

"You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice vibrating through his chest where you’re pressed tightly against him.

Your legs tremble, locked tight around his waist, keeping him buried deep. Sylus’ thrusts turn frantic, slamming into you harder, rougher, the sound of wet, filthy friction filling the room. His cock twitches inside you, driving deeper with every thrust.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost broken, as your name falls from his lips. His hand cups your face, fingers trembling as they stroke your cheek, grounding himself in the haze of his need.

His movements stutter, his cock throbbing, and with a guttural growl, he pushes into you one last time, spilling hot and thick cum inside you. His hips twitch helplessly, every pulse of his release sending a shudder through his body. He clings to you, forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged as he groans your name one last time.

His name escapes your lips in a soft, breathless moan, and he captures it in a searing kiss. The kiss slows as his movements still, the room filled with the sound of your mingled breathing and the faint crackle of the fire beside you. Sylus doesn’t pull away, his arms still wrapped around you, and you rest your head against his chest. His hands roam gently over your back and shoulders now, as if trying to soothe the tremble in your muscles. He kisses the top of your head before he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his fingertips grazing your cheek with a featherlight touch.

You nod with a soft smile.

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that feels entirely different from before—his mouth moves tenderly, as though memorizing the curve of your lips, savoring the taste, the warmth you offer. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin, grounding you both. When he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the stillness. His gaze, when it meets yours, is soft, filled with adoration. You could stay like this forever.

[urfavfakeblonde]

ₚᵣₒbₗₑₘ ₛₒₗᵥₑᵣ

what if fantasies could really come to life?

warnings: sex fantasies, oral (fem!rec), fingering (fem!rec), heaving makeouts, and prob more let me know what I'm missing <3

"god, please James, feel's so good," I whine, head falling back against the back of the couch. My fingers dance through the short strands of his hair, eyes fluttering down to meet his lustful gaze between my legs. I bite my lip, relishing in the feeling of his skillful tongue against my sopping core. His hands are gentle, yet firm as they keep my thighs open and atop his shoulders. His tongue moves quicker against my folds as legs start to shake violently around his head. "fuck! please, please, pl-"

"Y/n? You okay?" Bucky asks, staring me down. I blink and refocus, stirring the pasta sauce that was tempted to burn. He remains leaned on the counter, setting down his beer. "Yeah sorry," I sigh, leaning over to grab some spices. I open and sprinkle a little into the pot one by one, enjoying the hum of music in the background. It was always easy like this--with Bucky. Silence was never awkward, and often enough words wouldn't need to be spoken to know how one another felt. But this time? This time he definitely wouldn't know what was going on inside my head. I hope. "Do you want me to take over?" He asks, walking to the other side of me to pour the pasta in the boiling water. God, he really is that innocent isn't he? I could think of a few way he could take over but "it's fine, I got it." With a smile on my face. He returns the small smile, something that rarely slipped out. Bucky was closed off, which would make since after everything -- but not so much with me. Before, when we first decided to share an apartment because he needed better decoration skills, and I needed someone to make sure it was organized, he would only force a smile if he had to. But on nights like these, when it was just the two of us after a long day-- his smile felt like it was reserved for me. Maybe that's what started my fantasies in the first place.

He grabs the pasta, pouring it into the boiling water. He moves effortlessly around the kitchen, grabbing a spatula and a strainer. I watch him in awe, moving my spoon in slow circles in the sauce. When he returns to the pot, his hand flex's has he stirs, the sight making me drool, literally. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, clearing my throat. I focus on the sauce, and turn the heat off. I grab a spoon and dip it in before bringing it to my mouth, taking in the flavors. "Is it good?" He asks, glancing over at me. I have to look away, those blue eyes making me weaker. "Yeah, you wanna try?" I dip the spoon in again as to give it to him. He takes it and brings it to his mouth. I groan internally, dirty thoughts clouding my senses. He hums in approval, setting the spoon down in the sink. "Delicious," he says, stirring the pot of pasta. I swallow hard, clenching my thighs together. I mutter a small thanks, grabbing some plates and forks. He pours the sauce in the pasta, glancing over his shoulder as I set down our plates on the island bar. He leans over the counter, placing portions on the plates as I fix up a salad. All of this was in silence, a comfortable one for him, but aching and desperate for me. Dinner was the same. My chewing came to a stop when I looked over at his beautiful form, he wasn't sloppy at all when he ate. He was careful, deliberate, savoring every bite. And so what if my mind started to wander? It's not my fault really, he's such a tease.

He kisses me, lifting me up onto the island, helping my anxious hands unbutton my shirt. "Relax, sweetheart. We got all night," he whispers into my ear, vibranium hand snaking down to rub my covered clit. I whine into his mouth, wrapping my arm around his neck to bring him impossibly closer, the other clenching white knuckles against the cool marble. I kiss him feverishly, grasping at his shirt, hair, everything. He gets my shirt unbuttoned, throwing it on the floor. He helps me shimmy my panties off, hands sliding up my legs, waist-

"What are you thinking about?" Bucky's voice brings me out of my daze, and suddenly I realized that I was just in a button up shirt and panties. I swallow my bite and glance at him. He's finished already, casually sipping a beer. Now this? This was too much. My thighs clench together again, which didn't seem to go unnoticed by the man beside me. "You ask a lot of questions," I say cooly, sipping my drink. "You never ask Sam this many questions," I state. His eyebrow raises as he sets his drink down. "Do you only talk to Dr. Raynor?" He asks, a playful smirk on his face. "No." Maybe I answered that too quickly. Or too harshly. Or maybe both. "Sorry," I say quickly, standing up to gather the plates. I sigh as I set them in the sink, washing out my cup. He comes up behind me and takes a plate. I make room for him, setting the cup in the dishwasher. "I don't like talking to Dr. Raynor," I finally say, picking up a fork. "Why?" As his voice always been this raspy? "Because I don't feel like talking about my problems with her. It's not like she can fix them." I say with a huff, taking his plate to put in the washer. He hums, finishing off the other utensils. "You can talk to me you know," he says, turning off the water. I exhale sharply, "I already told you about...my problems." I groan, going to sit on the couch. "Yeah, that's why I know you've got something else on your mind." He says with a smile, going to sit in the armchair. I roll my eyes, bringing my knees to my chest. His gaze stays locked on my figure, blue eyes searching for mine. I bite my lip, clenching my thighs together. "I don't wanna talk about it." I say quietly, looking out the window. It's silent for a moment, the faint sound of the dishwasher filling the apartment.

"Why don't you show me then?" He says calmly, sipping his beer. My head whips back to him, my feet returning to the floor. "What?" I gasp, giving him a confused look. He smirks at me, setting his beer bottle down on the coffee table. "Just come here," he says with a small smile. I swallow, slowly standing up. I eye him suspiciously as he keeps his eyes on my face. I walk to stand before him, crossing my hands over my chest. "Look, I told you I'm fin-" he pulls my gently down into his lap, his ever piercing gaze still locked onto my eyes. I let out a shaky breath, uncrossing my hands to stabilize myself on his shoulders. God, I should have worn more than just panties, because in this position? Fuck, their soaking. "You're beautiful, you know that?" He says quietly, moving a strand of hair behind my ear. My face flushes, eyes avoiding his gaze. "Why do you do this to me?" I ask, eyes meeting his gaze again. He gives me an innocent look, placing his hands on my waist. "Gonna have to be specific sweetheart," he grins, vibranium hand shifting with a mechanic whirr as his hold tightens. I roll my eyes, biting my lip. God, I want to kiss him so bad. "I don't wanna look like...I'm obsessed or something, you know?" I say quietly, hands firm on his shoulders. He smiles at me, hand reaching up to caress my cheek. "Who would think that?" He asks, taking my hand in his vibranium one to bring it to his lips. He kisses the back of my hand softly, eyes trained on mine. "You know, you've got quite the staring problem," I smile. "So I've been told," he responds, with a playful look in his eyes. I hum in agreement, swallowing hard. I sigh, tongue poking out to wet my lips. Before I can even get a word out, he steals the words right out of my mouth. "Can I kiss you? I want to kiss you," he says, hand trailing up to the back of my neck.

I let out a small gasp, hands reaching around to play with his hair. "You want to kiss me?" I ask quietly, staring into his blue eyes. He smiles, cupping the back of my neck to bring me closer. I hesitate, just for a moment to consider the consequences. As I leaned in all the way, I couldn't really think of any. The kiss started off slow, like the moment was being savored. It felt like a daydream, I was kissing my roommate, James Bucky Barnes and fuck did it feel amazing. And then, like he became impatient and desperate, the kiss turned feverish. Tongue dancing, teeth grazing, swollen lips kind of kissing. I moaned, no, actually whined into the kiss, leaning back as to force him forward, the ever-present bulge pressing right onto my excuse for panties. He gently bites down on my bottom lip, pulling away as it releases back with a soft pop! I let out labored breaths, the need in my stomach growing by the second. "Has it ever occurred, that I may be obsessed with you?" he says, eyes full of lust. My lips tremble, wetness threating to seep through my panties. "Fuck," I whine, reconnecting my lips with his. My fingers find my buttons, shakily unclasping each one. Swiftly, he replaces my fingers with his own, kissing down my jaw. I moan softly, biting my lip. He gets it unbuttoned, slowly, torturously, sliding it down my arms, keeping eye contact all the while. I sigh as it hits the floor, hands finding themselves on his thighs. Bra-less. How could I have forgotten I went bra-less too? It's like I was begging to get fucked.

My nipples harden at the sudden coolness, goosebumps rising on my skin. He leans down, pursing his lips together. He lets out a gentle blow of air over them, a sharp exhale leaving my throat. "Sensitive," he mutters, hands reaching up to cup my breasts. The sensations were different- right one under the cool touch of metal, the left warm from the flesh of human. "Shit, that feels so good James," I groan, eyes meeting where he touched. His soft lips connect with the hardened bud, a gasp leaving my lips. My thighs try to clamp together, however his own made sure I couldn't as my slick seeped through my panties. He lets his tongue swirl around the bud before sucking gently, letting it go with a pop! as he moves to the next one. Impatiently, my hand reaches down to his throbbing bulge, helping him relieve some pressure. He groans, kissing up my chest to my collarbone. My fingers find his jeans, undoing the button. He kisses up my jaw, softly sucking at the skin below my ear. Unzipping his jeans, he stops my hand with his. "Let me look at you first," he says, leaning back. I bite my lip, taking a deep breath. "Want me to take those off?" He asks, fingers slipping under the sides of my panties. I nod, standing up, in between his legs. He leans forward, leaving kisses down my thigh has he slides them off antagonizingly slow. I step out of them, shivering as he places them on the edge of the chair. He sets his hands on my waist, slowly spinning me around before pulling me back down into his lap. Oh.

I nearly moan at the bugle pressing into my ass, the wetness in-between my legs practically soaking his jeans. God why is he still in his clothes? "Hey, why do I have to be naked when you're--shit..." his vibranium hand slithers down my front, ghosting over my aching core. My head falls back against his shoulder, hands gripping the sides of the chair. My eyes flutter shut as he applies pressure to my clit, the cold metal sending jolts through my body. I let out a whine, biting my lip as he rubs slow circles, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. My legs begin to tremble, desperate to close around his hand, (which would fail to stop his movements anyways) but his thighs continued to spread my legs open. His movements only increased in speed, yet somehow still gentle. Moans slipped from my throat, desperate pleas of his name mixed with labored breaths at his movements. It didn't take long for the coil to snap, crying out as my body shakes in his touch. I rested my head on his shoulder as I caught my breath, my firm hold on the chair's arms releasing as the ringing in my ears dissipated. He leans down to capture my lips in a kiss, smiling as my eyes fluttered shut. "You okay sweetheart?" he asks softly, lifting me up into his arms. I nod, keeping my eyes shut. He walks to his bedroom, placing me on the bed. As he starts to stand up, I reach out and grab his shirt, pulling him on top of me.

"Wasn't done with you yet," I whisper, kissing him feverishly. He hums into the kiss, surprised. "Not too tired?" he asks, pulling his shirt off to be discarded onto the floor. "Not for you," I giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck.

[borgialucrezia]

#I will always wonder why rodrigo didn't just tell cesare from the beginning he intended him to become both pope and king?? #or at least when he started begging him for command of the papal armies?? #(personally think cesare still would've seen juan as a threat just because their father showed juan more warmth) #but it may have prevented juan being murdered by cesare's hand at least #not that I think it would've quelled his hatred toward juan completely #too bad rodrigo didn't account for cesare's ambition outweighing his love of his brother #or he probably would've said something much sooner #it's kinda ironic he claims he sees so much of himself in cesare and yet.....he completely underestimated cesare's ambition ( via @rhaenyra-targaryenn )

“Cesare wanted his brother dead. He waited for the moment when he felt it was right. He knows that it will change him forever and it will never be the same. A part of him thought it was the right thing, and part of him did it out of jealousy and envy. Once he made up his mind, it was set. He didn’t want to talk anymore, because he knew Juan could change his mind. But I think there was something chemical in his hatred for his brother as well that's always been there.” — FRANÇOIS ARNAUD explains Cesare's dark turn. "The final confession is his one chance to unburden his soul and he’s nice. He forgives people. He says he’s been in pain all this time, he notices when everyone else is concerned about him and their own hurting and their own pain. It proves that he’s sort of self-aware and probably hasn’t had the best life, so it kind of makes it even worse that he gets killed." — DAVID OAKES on Juan's finale moments.

SPECIAL FEATURES || BEHIND THE BORGIAS: Juan's demise

[thestarkinternship]

10 Minutes

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)

Summary: Bucky is a little desperate for some alone time during one of Stark's parties, and ten minutes is all he needs.

Word Count: 2.2k (no mention of Y/N)

Warnings: Profanity, drinking, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), slight exhibitionism (bathroom at a party), MINORS DNI!

A/N: I kinda took a break from writing because I had a lot of unfinished fics, but I'm slowly starting to get back into it. And thank you for 300 followers on here! I can't believe there's that many people of you who actually like my writing :)

Masterlist

-

“That’s gotta be what, your sixth drink?” You giggled, watching as Bucky polished off another glass, “don’t you wanna slow it down a little?”

With a smirk, he set the empty crystal on the countertop. “Worried I’ll have too much and do something to embarrass you, sweetheart?”

“You could never embarrass me, James,” you rolled your eyes, “and you also can’t get drunk.”

“S’not gonna stop me from trying,” he grinned, “now come here..”

Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you into his side before you could give an answer. Not that you minded – you didn’t need an excuse to be as close to him as possible. You nestled your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the heavy aftershave that he wore. It was your favourite scent. The musk from it mixed with the spice of the whiskey on his breath as it fanned across your cheeks. It was intoxication in the best way possible, superseding the several glasses of liquor that you’d consumed yourself.

“There is something else, if you think you can handle it.”

In your own little bubble, it was easy to forget that the two of you weren’t alone. Breaking your gaze away from Bucky, you saw one of your teammates making his way over to you with a delicately engraved bottle in his large hand.

“Hi Thor,” you smiled politely, “what is that?”

He held the bottle up proudly. “Asgardian liquor, the finest brewed there. It puts everything here on Midgard to shame.”

“I bet.” You chuckled.

“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Bucky grinned, stepping away from you momentarily to join Thor and some of the others in a round.

You folded your arms across your chest as you shook your head. The super soldier serum might stop his body from reacting to alcohol in the typical way, but it did have a particular effect on Bucky. You couldn’t help but notice how he always seemed to get that little bit more handsy with you. Maybe it was a placebo effect, or maybe that was just an excuse to keep you close to his wandering hands.

Either way, barely twenty minutes had passed before your observation was proven true.

Your shoulder leaned against the back wall as you watched Steve and Tony play pool when Bucky joined you.

“Where’ve you been?” he murmured, “I was looking for you.”

His metal hand drifted up your side, tracing the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath to graze your hip. The metal raised goosebumps on your warm skin, and you shivered further back into his arms.

“Bucky, stop… what if someone sees?” You whispered.

Bucky didn’t ease up, rubbing soft circles on your hip as he drew you in closer. “It’s okay, nobody’s looking at us.”

You glanced around. The loud music masked your hushed whispers, and the addition of Thor’s Asgardian liquor had worked wonders on the team of superheroes. With all of their defences down, no one had noticed the way the pair of you had sidled off to the side.

“We shouldn’t risk it.” You whispered, reaching for his hand and stopping it in its tracks.

“Let’s get out of here, just for a little bit,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to your jaw. The gentle ghost of his breathy murmurs in your ear sent your heart racing, “ten minutes, that’s all I need.”

“Are you really suggesting that we hook up in the middle of the party?” Your head tilted in a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“Why not?” Bucky pouted. His lips looked so damn kissable when he did that. The thought of giving in, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth in a frantic need to satisfy the urge that you were starting to feel right now was starting to not seem like such a bad idea.

“Because…” Your voice trailed off in search of a compelling reason. Even the slightly hint of doubt would signal a dead giveaway to Bucky that you were more than willing to give in. And the worst part of it was the stupid grin on his face that told you he knew this too.

“Because?” He taunted, his smirk growing wider.

“Because…” The agitation in your voice grew as you struggled.

Bucky chuckled darkly, letting his right hand meet his other at your waist. He turned you slightly, until your back was against his chest. Grip tightening, he pulled your hips back into his. Pressed flush against him, you became all too aware of the way his tight, muscular body felt against yours. And that wasn’t the only thing.

“Bucky, are you-“

“Painfully.” He whispered, leaving another soft kiss just below your ear. Your head fell back to rest against his shoulder. Lips parting, a quiet whimper escaped from them. Bucky  tucked a curl behind your ear to lean in better, “What was that that I just heard, hm? You can resist all you like, doll. But your body’s betraying you.”

He was right of course, but you bit your bottom lip anyway in an attempt to prevent yourself from letting another sound slip. The more you tried to hide your growing desires, the more Bucky persisted. His hand slid down your hip to the hem of your skirt. He played with the material, gently grazing his fingers across the back of your thigh that was now exposed to him. Instinctively, your legs clenched as he dared to venture higher.

Bucky chuckled under his breath. “Bite your lip all you want. But what are you gonna do when you start to soak through your underwear and all over that pretty outfit of yours?”

Your face burned red as your gaze immediately fell downwards. Searching the front of your dress as discreetly as you could, your shoulders relaxed when you found that you hadn’t. But your reaction alone was enough to let Bucky know that you considered it a real possibility.

“Did I have you worried there for a second?” he mocked, “You know I’m right. Come on… ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, gripping your hand and pulling you out of the room.

It was a wonder that you made it to the bathroom at all. His hands were everywhere. Running through your hair, on your waist, cupping your cheek. But yours were the same, only pulling away just long enough to fumble with the bathroom door. It pushed open, and you both crashed through.

With a hand on his chest, you pushed him back to lean on the door. His eyes widened in at your sudden control, but who was he to stop you? Ripping the hand towel down off the rail by the sink, he dropped it to the floor to cushion you as you sank to your knees in front of him. You toyed with the zipper of his jeans, slowly pulling them and his boxers down in one as you pressed soft kisses to each inch of his bare skin that you exposed.

Bucky let out a tormented groan from the back of his throat as your tongue teased up to the head of his cock. He looked down at you and nearly buckled at the sight. Your hand gripping his thigh, hair messy and lipstick smudged. He watched your wet lips twist into a soft smirk that was so close to wrapping around him.

“When you said painfully, I had no idea this is what I’d done to you.” You cooed, innocently sliding your palm up and down his length.

Bucky hissed at the sensation and reached out to tilt your face up to look at him. His fingers were firm on your cheeks. “We’re down to nine minutes. You gonna keep talking with that sweet mouth, doll, or do you want to put it to good use?”

He didn’t have to ask twice. His tip grazed the back of your throat in one smooth motion. But you didn’t let it rest. You moved your head back and forth, letting your tongue trace over every vein. Bucky’s hand slid up from your jaw to cup your cheek, pulling you further around him as he met your movements with shallow thrusts. His view of you faded as his eyes squeezed shut, revelling in the overwhelming pleasure you were bringing him. The two of you might’ve set a time limit on this brief rendezvous but fuck he could let you go on like this forever.

Head falling back against the door with a soft thud, he growled. The animalistic sound ripped through his gritted teeth as he tugged your head back and off him. Pre cum lingered on your lips as you licked them clean.

Reaching for your hands he helped you to your feet and wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He walked you backwards until your bumped into the sink. Reaching for your thighs, he lifted you up to rest on the countertop. Your skirt slipped and bunched up around your waist as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned in, nudging himself between your legs. Gentle whines slipped out from your trembling lips as he brushed over your wetness.

“Bucky…” You begged softly.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured, sliding your underwear over to one side, “seven minutes.”

Bucky pushed his hips forward to meet yours, burying himself completely in you. His head dropped to the crook of your shoulder and his lips met your neck. Your arms curled around his broad back, scrunching up the material of his shirt as you clung desperately to him. Soft grunts from him reverberated up into your ear as he pulled out of you only to get sucked right back in by your tight cunt. With one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the sink, he kept you in position to take it all. Every stroke inside of you had you clenching down around him. His knuckles turned white as his fingertips pressed harder into your skin with each sharp thrust.

“Such a good girl, letting me fuck you with all our friends in the next room,” he muttered between delicate nips at the skin just below your ear, “and you had the nerve to act like you didn’t want this just as much as I did.”

Your hands moved up through his hair and down to the sides of his face as you leaned in, lips met his in a needy fashion. The kiss that followed was all-consuming, swallowing any quiet moans that might give the pair of you away. But shallow breaths slipped out here and there as Bucky rolled his tongue over yours in passionate frenzy.

He pulled on your hip until your body slipped closer to the edge of the sink, and you let out a small gasp. As Bucky’s lips parted from yours, he smirked at the fucked-out haze that glazed over your eyes as his cock rutted up deeper inside of you. As he quickened the twitch of his hips, your thighs tightened around his waist.

“Keep that up, and I won’t be able to pull out, doll.” He grunted softly.

Your brows furrowed as your head leaned back in a wave of pleasure. You weren’t listening to a damn word he was saying right now. Bucky’s hand left your hip briefly to tilt your head back to him.

“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up and fuck it back into you hard enough that it doesn’t leak out for everyone to see?”

Too out of it to verbally respond, your thighs gave him a light squeeze and answered for you. Bucky’s hand let go of your face and reaffirmed its position on your hip as he then set a ruthless pace. Your head slipped forwards to rest on his shoulder. Burying your face in the crook of his collarbone, your moans vibrated against his throat, driving him crazy. You let your body go limp in his hands as he worked to bring you both a release that the pair of you desperately craved.

Two more thrusts was all it took to bring you both over that delicious edge. His metal hand nearly snapped a porcelain chunk out of the counter with how hard he was gripping it when he came. But you were only the same, with your thighs shaking and breathing heavy. You fluttered around him with every beat of your heart, squeezing every drop of come out of his cock that he had to give you. He lazily rocked his hips a couple more times, coating every inch inside of you.

Bucky’s hands released your body from his tight grip as he gently brushed strand of messy hair out of your face, but he kept himself seated.

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t worth it.” He breathed.

Your pink cheeks pinched into a soft smile. “Maybe it was.”

“Maybe, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, not hesitating to lean into your neck.

“What are you doing?” You giggled as you felt his gentle kisses.

“What? I’ve still got one minute left.” He grinned playfully, trailing kisses up your cheek now as well.

“Bucky.” You whined, feeling his cock teasingly plunge deeper inside of you. Your sensitive body could barely handle any more.

“Fine,” he smirked, and slowly eased himself out of you, “but when this party’s over, I’m done holding back.”

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Technical Mastermind

Note: This is a fun little dual-POV story I put together, honestly mostly just self-indulgent fluff and a sprinkle of spice but hope y'all enjoy!

I look up from my computer when I hear a knock at my office door. My coworker pokes her head in and smiles at me, “Hey! The new tech guy’s first day is today, come meet him!” Her voice drops to a theatrical whisper, “He’s cute too!”

I let out a soft laugh and glance down at my screen for a second. “I’ll be right out, just gonna finish up this email.” She nods and gives me a wink before disappearing from my doorway.

I follow her out a few moments later, following the sound of excited chattering to the break room. All my coworkers are gathered there, along with a man who I presume to be the new tech guy. Who is indeed cute.

I walk up and introduce myself with a smile. “Hey! I’m part of the analytics team, it’s really nice to meet you!”

He smiles back at me and for a second I’m stunned by the dimples and warmth in his face. He is very cute. “It’s nice to meet you too. I’m here for all your tech needs if anything comes up,” his voice is smooth and it sends a shiver down my spine that I try to repress. Now is not the time to get the hots for my brand-new coworker.

He sticks his hand out for me to shake and I slide mine into it. His fingers grip mine firmly, the warmth in his hand making me want to melt into him.

I let out a soft laugh, “Sorry, my hands are always freezing, my office is so cold for some reason.” He chuckles and lets my hand go, “No need to apologize." I catch a whiff of his cologne and it makes me melt a little more, he smells delectable.

Before I can respond, I hear someone call his name and we both turn to see our manager come over, asking for his help with a software integration. I smile at them both, “Well, that’s my cue, I’ll let you get to doing your job. It was lovely to meet you.” I step away and give a little wave before I walk over to the espresso machine to make myself an afternoon pick-me-up.

My coworker sidles up next to me, “I told you he’s cute!” I laugh and glance back over at the new tech guy, taking in his tall, fit form, the cross of his arms making his biceps bulge while he nods along to whatever our manager was saying.

“And you were not wrong,” I say back to her, grabbing my finished coffee and adding cream and sugar.

She leans in with a devious look on her face, “You guys would make a really cute couple.” I almost choke on my sip of coffee and I shoot her a playful glare. “I literally just met the man! I don’t know anything about him. AND we work together.”

She shrugs, “None of those things sound like deal breakers.” I let out a laugh and glance back at him. We would make a cute couple but I am not about to open that can of worms, especially not with a guy I met five minutes ago who made no indication of being interested in me.

I spend the next few minutes chatting with my coworker before heading back to my office to finish up my work. I feel eyes tracking me as I reach the door of the break room and I turn to see the new guy looking at me. Our eyes meet and he flashes me another smile, dimples on full display. I smile back and slip out of the room, walking back to my office with a little extra pep in my step.

—

Today, I met the woman I’m going to marry. She doesn’t know it yet but that’s okay, she’ll learn soon enough. My first day on the job could not have gone better. I was meeting all of my coworkers when she walked in, wearing that gorgeous skirt showing off her sexy legs and a pink blouse that made her creamy skin look so delicious.

I saw the way she shivered at the sound of my voice, the way her eyes glazed over a little when our hands touched. She’s perfect and her body wants mine and soon her mind will too. I couldn’t get her out of my head, not even when my new boss was talking me through some new software update the firm is undergoing. Lucky for me, I’m damn good at my job and could do it with just a fraction of my attention.

I kept most of my gaze on her while she giggled with her coworker, the sound of her laugh making me determined to be the one to make her make that noise next time. She caught me staring right as she was leaving but the smile she sent my way and the glow on her face was all I needed to be sure that she wanted me just as much as I wanted her.

By the end of the workday, I’d already pulled every single file about her from the company database. After that it was easy enough to hack into the company’s security cameras to get me access to the feed of her office so I could keep eyes on her during the day. It was even easier to hack into her accounts to see her emails, calendars, and everything else my girl had on her work computer.

By the time I got home, I’d already come up with a plan to get access to her personal computer and phone. In the next few days, I’ll pay her home a visit while she’s in the office to set up my own cameras and make a copy of her keys. She’s mine and I plan on taking very good care of her.

—

The next morning, I step into my office and log onto my computer only for the entire thing to crash. “What the fuck?” I groan softly, this has never happened before and the timing is terrible because I’m supposed to be on a meeting in 30 minutes. I grumble with annoyance before I trudge out of my office, hoping to find the new tech guy and praying that he’s here this morning and knows how to fix my stupid computer.

His office door is open and I see him sat in front of his computer, typing away. I linger for a moment outside his door, the yummy scent of his cologne wafting out of his office towards me. I knock softly against his door frame and flash him a sheepish smile when he looks up. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

He flashes those dimples at me again and shakes his head. “Not at all, what can I do for you?” I bite my lip and sigh before responding.

“I think I broke my computer.”

He stares at me. Oh my god, he thinks I’m an idiot.

“I mean, I don’t know, I logged in and then it crashed and now it’s on the blue screen of death and I have a meeting in 30 minutes and I can’t access anything.” I blurt out my words and want to dissolve into a puddle because now the hot tech guy definitely thinks I’m incompetent.

“Let me see if I can fix it,” he says, not missing a beat and he stands from behind his desk. Fuck, he’s so tall, I could climb him like a tree. I give myself a mental slap and smile brightly at him, praying my face isn’t beet red.

He gestures to the door and we walk out together. “Thank you so much, I’m sorry for being a bother, I promise I’m usually not this technologically inept.”

He laughs very gracefully at my bumbling, “You’re not a bother at all. Plus, this is what the company pays me for, so thank you for keeping me employed.” I giggle at that. So he’s hot and funny.

We enter my office and I let him sit at my desk to tinker with the computer. I stand behind him, discreetly taking in deep breaths of his smell while staring blankly at the screen as he opens some kind of code sequence and enters a bunch of letters and numbers before giving a contemplative hum.

“Good news is I know what’s wrong. Bad news is it’s gonna take a bit for me to fix it up. But, I can remote access into your account from my computer and you can take your meeting in my office so you don’t run behind.” He turns to look at me.

“Oh my god, yes, that would be perfect. Thank you so so much!” Thank you tech gods for gracing me with this savior of a man. I beam at him and he shows me his pretty dimples again.

“Here, let’s get you set up on my computer first and I’ll come back to deal with yours.”

20 minutes later, I’m sat in his very comfy chair, breathing in more of his yummy scent, in his very nice and warm office that is far better than my freezing one, logging onto my meeting from his computer.

—

She’s so fucking adorable when she needs help. I could barely contain my excitement this morning while I waited for her to come into the office and inevitably find me to solve her newly manifested computer problem. And I made her laugh, the sound spilling from her lips so sweetly.

Now, I’m in her office while she’s preoccupied for at least another hour in that meeting. My girl is so trusting too because she left her phone, her personal laptop, and her purse all in her office without a second thought. This is too easy.

It takes me no time at all to plant a bug into her phone that mirrors it onto my own and a similar tweak of her laptop’s code gives me remote access whenever I want. I slip into her purse and grab her keys, stepping out of the office to go down the street to the hardware store to make a quick copy of her house key and her car key. I make one last stop at her car, sliding a tracker under the hood before heading back into the office.

A glance at her calendar tells me she’s still got 30 minutes left in her meeting. I easily delete the bug I’d planted in her work computer to create this glitch in the first place and restore it to its functioning form before leaving her office, putting everything back in its place.

I stop by the break room and make two cups of coffee. One black for me and another with cream and sugar, exactly the way I’d watch her make it yesterday afternoon. I slip into my office quietly, smiling at her when her eyes meet mine. I slide the cup of coffee to her and her eyes widen and she mouths a thank you at me.

I smile and shake my head before slipping back out of my office to let her finish her meeting. My chest feels warm when I step out. It feels really fucking good to take care of my girl, and I hope she sees how good of a provider I would be for her. How she’d never want for anything ever again and I can’t wait to make her mine.

—

I’m giddy for the rest of my meeting after he’d dropped off a cup of coffee for me, made exactly how I like it. This man is the stuff of dreams, I swear. My meeting wraps up and I finish off my caffeine before I get up to look for him.

He’s in my office, back facing the doorway, tinkering with the thermostat on the wall. I knock softly and he spins around to look at me, holding a screwdriver as he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“You mentioned your office being cold. I think I fixed it,” he flashes me a smile. My mouth forms an O as I stare at him in amazement. If we weren’t coworkers and literally met yesterday, I would totally get down on my knees and suck his cock right here, right now. Where has this man been all my life?

“I- thank you so much, you didn’t have to do that at all. And thank you for the coffee, it was perfect, and for letting me use your office, and for fixing my computer,” I’m rambling now but I can’t stop. Seeing his dimples again makes me finally stop talking and I give him a shy smile.

“No problem at all, everything’s all sorted. Your computer is all set and it shouldn’t give you an problems anymore.” His words almost make me sad, maybe I should figure out how to fuck up my stuff again just so he can come and fix it for me.

“Thank you again, really. You’re a life saver.”

“Of course, let me know if you need anything, you know where to find me.” He tips an imaginary hat at me and I giggle as he walks out. Yum, my office now smells a little bit like him.

I spend the rest of my day half-heartedly focusing on work while my thoughts keep drifting back to that dimpled hunk of a man who seems so perfect.

—

I spend the rest of my day sorting through all the new information I’ve gathered on my girl and doing just enough work to make it seem like I’m a model employee. Her phone gives me an unfiltered glimpse into her life and I’ve discovered enough about her to know with certainty that she is fucking perfect.

I also find that she spent several minutes last night googling me and stalking my few social media profiles. It makes me smile to know that my girl is interested in me too. I’m looking through her other apps when I see a text come in. It’s from one of our coworkers, asking if she’s going out for the weekly office happy hour tonight. She responds quickly with an affirmative. And then she sends a follow-up message: “I’m gonna invite the tech guy too!”

Our coworker agrees and my chest feels warm again, clearly, my girl is thinking about me too.

I hear her footsteps come down the hall to my office and I quickly click out of my incriminating files before she knocks on my office door and pokes her head in.

“Hi, do you want to come out for drinks with the rest of the office tonight? It’s just a causal, weekly happy hour, no pressure!” Her eyes are alight with hope and excitement and it makes me want to grab her and kiss her. I restrain myself and instead send her a smile and agree. Her whole face lights up and I have to grip the armrest of my chair to keep myself in place. She says she’ll send me the details and walks off, her perfect ass swaying as she retreats down the hall.

—

I’m bouncing on my heels a little as I stand with a few other coworkers at the bar down the street from the office. My gaze keeps lingering on the door, trying to get a glimpse of the man I’m waiting for. Someone next to me makes a joke about something and I laugh with the rest of the group, too distracted to contribute anything of substance.

Suddenly, I feel a warm hand against my back and I smell his cologne. I turn around to face him and smile. His hand leaves my back and I want to complain but hold it in. He smiles at me and greets the rest of the group.

“I’ll go get us some drinks,” he says. Someone makes a request for beers and everyone else calls out their agreements. I don’t bother to say that I’d prefer something else, I’ll just grab something later after this round.

He steps away and comes back a few minutes later with our drinks, placing a pitcher of beer on the table with empty glasses. Then, he comes back again with a different drink in his hand. “This one’s for you,” he says, handing it to me.

I stare at him in shock. How did he know I don’t drink beer? And how could he possibly know my favorite drink is an espresso martini?

He smiles at me, “I asked them to make it decaf so it doesn’t keep you up.”

I think I swoon. I know for a fact my panties are drenched right now. “I- Thank you so much, how did you know?”

He flashes me that fucking smile again and my pussy clenches. “I’ve seen how much coffee you drink, so I took a wild guess.”

I beam at him and take a sip, letting out a happy sigh at how good it tastes. I get distracted by a coworker asking me a question and my attention gets pulled into an animated conversation.

—

She’s so pretty like this, face flushed from the alcohol and laughter. I’m standing close to her but not close enough. I want to sling my arm around her shoulders and pull her towards me so she can lean on me. I want to trail my fingers up and down her back and draw absentminded circles over her skin while we talk. There’s so much I want to fucking do but I can’t yet, I have to wait.

I’m caught in some conversation with a few guys from the office about a new client the firm is taking on. I check my watch and decide I’ve spent enough time here and I’d much rather head home and do some more research on my girl.

“I’m gonna call it a night, I’ve got an early morning tomorrow,” I say, giving a wave to the rest of the group. I see her perk up at my words, “I’m gonna head out too! See you guys tomorrow!”

I knew she’d take her leave when I brought it up. My girl’s got an early morning workout class tomorrow. I know that from her calendar and because it is the perfect time for me to slip into her home and install my cameras.

We walk towards the exit together and head back towards the office.

“Did you drive today?” I ask, already know the answer is no because it’s Thursday and she always takes the train just in case she goes to happy hour and drinks. Because my girl is responsible. She shakes her head, “No, I took the train but I think I’ll just grab an Uber home.”

I shake my head, “Let me drive you home, I didn’t drink tonight anyway.”

“No, I can’t ask you to do that! I’m sure you have things to do!” She says, looking at me with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Not at all, it’s no problem, let me take you home. Where do you live?” As if I really need her to answer that, I already know her address.

“I feel like you’re always doing favors for me and we’ve only just met,” she laughs and gives me her address. “Thank you so much,” she says, glancing up at me shyly.

I smile, “It’s not a problem.”

I’m a perfect gentleman when I drive her home, our conversation never lulling during the ride. The drink she’s had tonight has made her extra liberal with her laughter and I love it. I drop her off at her place and bid her goodnight.

—

The next morning, I track her location as she goes to her workout class, leaving her apartment empty. It’s so easy for me to slip into her apartment using my copy of her key.

I take my time, looking through her belongings, seeing the decoration of the space, noting what her pantry staples are, what her favorite brands of skincare are. And of course, I go poking around in her bedside table where I find a plethora of different sex toys my horny girl has. The thought of using any one of them on her makes my dick strain in my pants and I almost get sidetracked before I remember my purpose for being here today.

I hook up several tiny cameras, concealing them around her apartment so that, to an untrained eye, nothing would seem out of place. The cameras give me live video and audio feed and I take a moment to double check that the connection is secure before I take one last glimpse around her apartment and take my leave.

I get back to my car parked a few blocks down and pull up the live feed on my phone just in time to see her come home from her workout class. The clarity of the cameras is exquisite, capturing every angle of her. I groan as I watch her strip out of her workout outfit, her perfect perky tits spilling out of her sports bra and her tight ass on display.

I slide lower into my seat, my gaze fixed on her as she steps into the shower. I can’t stop myself from sliding a hand into my pants, palming my cock, the friction making me hiss. She soaps up her body teasingly, putting on a show almost like she knows I’m watching.

Fuck, she’s perfect. I groan as I stroke my cock with intention, the pent up desire burning through my veins. I want to be there with her in that shower, I want to run my fingers through her hair, to rub soap up and down her body, tease her and make her feel so fucking good.

I don’t last very long, it’s almost a little embarrassing how fast I cum, watching her shower. I clean myself off and head to the office, where I spend every single moment daydreaming about her gorgeous body and trying not to rush into her office and ravish her against her desk.

—

It’s the evening now, and I’m watching her settle in for bed, the several different cameras giving me every possible angle of her gorgeous form as she crawls into bed. I watch her grab her phone as she snuggles down into her covers and I pull up my mirrored copy of her device to see what she’s looking at.

It starts with cat videos and random TikToks and then I watch as she switches to a different app. Tumblr. My eyebrows raise when I see what she types into the search bar: rape fantasy. I watch her scroll through pictures, videos, text posts, watching as she starts to get hot and bothered. It looks like my pretty girl has a dark side.

I watch as she kicks the covers off her body and she slides a hand down into her pajama bottoms. I see her bit her lip as her hand starts to move beneath her clothes. She’s reading something absolutely filthy and the cameras in her room are picking up on her soft whimpers as she plays with herself.

Fuck, I fumble with my belt and undo my pants enough to pull my rock hard cock out. I let out a low groan as I fist the base of my cock, my breath harsh as dark tendrils of pleasure rush through my body. I keep an eye on the cameras, watching as she writhes on the bed, her pretty moans and cries going straight to my head as the pleasure builds inside of me.

I hear her whines pick up and I know she’s close to cumming. And then, I hear it over the camera. She whimpers out a name. My name. It’s enough to send me over the edge and I curse as I cum all over my hand, my vision going white for a moment before it clears just in time for me to see her ride out the waves of her own orgasm, still whimpering my fucking name.

My breathing is harsh as I sit back in my chair, watching as she comes down from her high and puts her phone away to curl up and drift off to sleep. I groan as I bask in the warm pleasure. I’m going to make all her little fantasies come to life and she’s going to keep moaning my name like my fucking slut.

—

I’ve waited long enough and I can’t wait any longer. Every single fucking day, I see her pretty smile and hear her intoxicating laugh at the office and every night, I stroke my cock to the sound of her whimpers while she plays with her dripping little pussy. I know she’s perfect for me. I know she wants me because every time I see her, I see her pupils dilate and her eyes glaze over when I stand too close.

It’s time for me to make her mine. I wait for her to go to bed after she rubs her sensitive little clit and cum all over her fingers. I’m going to give her the best orgasm of her life tonight and she’s never going to have to rely on herself to make that pretty pussy feel good because I’ll do it for her gladly.

I slip into her apartment when I know she’s asleep and I creep into her room. She’s so fucking pretty, laid on her bed, wearing those shorts that show off her ass and a tank top that barely covers her tits. I’m going to fuck her and make her mine.

I strip out of my clothes and slide into the bed with her. I pin her underneath my body and use one hand to hold both her wrists above her head and another to cover her mouth. I watch as she jerks awake, her eyes wide with fear as she whines into my hand.

“Shh, shh, it’s me, don’t be scared, darling. I’ve got you,” I purr into her ear and grind myself against her body, my hard cock pressing against her softness. I watch as her wide eyes take me in and I see that fear slowly transition into arousal. I laugh and dip my head and lick her jawline and kiss her neck.

She whimpers into my hand again. “Such a good girl for me, you’ve been teasing me at work, flaunting your pretty little body, looking at me with your fuck me eyes, did you think I wouldn’t do anything about it?” I growl into her ear.

I kiss her jaw softly, “I’m going to let your hands go but be a good girl for me and keep them above your head.” I slide my hand down her body and I pull the neckline of her top down so her pretty tits bounce free.

She’s such an obedient girl as she keeps her hands still for me. I keep my hand over her mouth and lean down to capture a straining nipple in my mouth while my free hand goes to pinch at the other. I hear her muffled moan behind my hand and I groan in response. “Fuck, you taste so good.

I let her nipple go and trail my hand down her body, pulling her shorts and panties down to reveal her dripping cunt. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet, all for me, isn’t that right?”

I loosen my hand so she can speak and she whimpers and nods. That’s not good enough, I land a hard slap against her cunt and she lets out a short scream. “Answer me, are you wet for me, darling?”

“Yes! Yes! I’m so fucking wet for you, please!” Her voice is breathless and I reward her with a soft stroke of her hard clit that makes her whine.

I slide a finger inside of her warmth and she arches her back. “Oh fuck, please, that feels so good.” She sounds so fucking good like this.

I pull out my finger and smirk at her when I hear her whimper is desperation. I reach up and press my finger, wet with her pussy, against her mouth. “Open up,” I purr and watch as she obeys to take my finger into her mouth.

“Good girl,” I murmur, sliding a second finger into her mouth and pushing in deep, the sound of her choked gag making my cock stiffen even more. “That’s it, take it like a good girl.”

I use my other hand to rub at her clit while I make her choke on my fingers. “You like this, don’t you? You like gagging on my fingers like a fucking whore, huh? You like me rubbing your clit like this? Are you going to cum?” I growl, feeling her pussy clench and her little clit pulse at my words.

Her mouth is too preoccupied to speak but I can tell by the way she’s writhing that she’s close because it’s the same way her body shakes every time she cums while I watch on the camera. I keep up the attention on her clit and press my fingers to the back of her throat. I feel her shatter in my hands, her cry of pleasure muffled by my fingers and her pretty pussy falling apart for me as she cums.

I let her ride out her pleasure before I pull my fingers out of her mouth and capture her mouth in a bruising kiss. When I pull away, she’s whining and begging, “Please, please, fuck me, please, I want your cock.”

I laugh, “Such a cum drunk little slut, huh? I give you one orgasm and now you’re begging for my cock? Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Her blown out pupils meet mine and I know that in that moment, I’m hers forever. I would do anything and everything for her and right now, I’m going to fuck her until she breaks around my cock.

I lean down and kiss her harshly, lining my cock up with her weeping cunt. “Scream for me,” I groan as I slam my cock home inside of her. She does exactly what I tell her to do, she screams. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, darling,” I set a punishing pace with my hips, every single thrust slamming her into the bed.

Her pussy grips me like a vice and I can feel every shudder and shiver of her body as she gives in to the pleasure. I brace one hand against the bed and the other goes to wrap around her throat, choking her just enough to make her lightheaded.

Her cries echo in the space around us, every single sob leaving her lips urging me on. Her face is flushed as her body gives in to the pleasure I’m forcing onto her. I watch as her eyes flutter closed and her pussy starts to milk me rhythmically and I know she’s close. She lets out a broken whine and I speed up my hips, every thrust rubbing against her pulsing walls.

“Come on, cum for me, pretty girl. That’s it, feel good for me, FUCK!” I feel her cum around me, the shuddering of her cunt pushing me over the edge as she screams my name. I groan as I bury my face into her neck, panting harshly as I try to regain control of my body. I pull myself off of her, the slide of my cock out of her tight cunt making both of us gasp, and I collapse next to her on the bed.

She rolls over and presses herself against me, looking up at me with her pretty eyes.

—

“You know you could’ve just asked me out, I would’ve said yes,” I tease, running a hand up and down his chest.

He laughs as he wraps an arm around me and pulls me close, “I know but this way is more fun, don’t you agree?” I smile and nod.

I snuggle into his arms, “I wanna watch the video of this.” I feel his entire body go rigid. “What?” He asks, his voice hesitant and tinged with disbelief.

I giggle, “You know, the footage from all the cameras you installed in here.”

I didn’t think he could be more still but he does. “What are you talking about?” His voice is low and panicked.

I look up at his face and giggle at his dumbfounded expression. “What, you think I didn’t know you came in here and put cameras everywhere?” I lean up and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Don’t be embarrassed, I think it’s fucking hot,” I say.

He blinks at me. “How- how did you know?”

I bury my nose into his chest and take a deep breath. “Your cologne. I knew as soon as I came back from my workout class that morning that you’d been in my apartment. And it’s not hard to notice all the cameras, you’re slick but not that slick.” I tease him gently.

He lets out a breath and gives me a low chuckle. “Fuck, you’re too smart for your own good,” he laughs. I giggle, “I also know you planted that bug on my computer that day. And you mirrored my phone.”

He shakes his head and laughs disbelievingly. “How did you figure those out? You can’t smell cologne through a phone, can you?”

I smile, “No but I can reverse engineer your code.” He blinks back at me. “I double-majored in computer science in college, I know my stuff,” I beam at him.

He presses his lips against my forehead. “Is there anything you don’t know?”

I shake my head.

“Fuck, you are absolutely fucking perfect for me. I love you, my little mastermind.”

I giggle, “I love you too, tech guy.”

[stealingpotatoes]

POTES SEMI-LIVEBLOGS KOTOR!

ive been writing my thoughts in the notes app but due to popular demand (one person asked for it) i'm posting my liveblogging DO NOT SAY/TAG/COMMENT SPOILERS PLEASE i read tags

warning im a yapper, im 10 hours in and theres a lot already (separated into sessions):

SESSION 1

whos this clown i thought i would be playing as revan

ive been too spoiled by dragon age origins this character creator sucks ass

only human???? ): fr?? ill just imagine her different in my brain or some shit

my life is being mansplained to me. is this bad writing or do i have amnesiacs

hes meta now??? hes talking abt the screen controls?????

omg a jedi and an evil jediii

omg their asses suckedddd they both died immediately

i <3 bringing a sword to a gun fight

WHY R THERE SO MANY SITH WHERE IS TJE RULE OF TWO

i clicked a workbench and it said lightsaber so either i get a lightsaber or i get a jedi friend whose lightsaber i can steal if im careful

I assume u play as revan in kotor2 so im gonna buy that now so i can play it when im done playing w this clown

i got light side points im getting a good grade in game morality which is something both normal to want and possible to achieve

everyone keeps saying revan is dead but thats my friend revan from tumblr hes clearly alive. or they???

my characters ass is distractingly present onscreen

huge fan of the way everyone collapsed drunk what the FUCK was in that wine

ok these sith ppl might be the bad guys but their armour is DRIPPY AS FUCK

ideologically i dont agree w the sith but they kinda went off w the fits

googling how to become a sith without being evil cause they have Drip

SESSION 2

i paid £1.19 to see revan he better show up in this game at some point

all these sith n i still cant find one revan….. stop faking ur death rn come out n talk to me babygirl this isnt like u….

why can i be light/dark side if im not a jedi. give me a laser sword

maybe this jedi gyal will know where revan is faking his death. or give me a fuckin lightsaber PLEASEEE

was just thinking 'does this game have romance' and then carth called me beautiful. i dont think im gonna romance anyone until i get this amnesia sorted

why is carth questioning me so much abt the crash im pretty sure i have amnesia

why tf did the jedi lady have me transferred to this ship are we in lesbians with each other???

carth's not wrong it is suspicious but i lowkey have amnesia so i coulda done that i coulda not

a lot of clone wars voice actors in this. was lucasfilm so broke in the 2000s that they could only afford the same 3 VAs for every project

mission is 14??????? we need to get my girl back in school

SESH 3

tale as old as time i fucking suck at racing games

ok i didnt realise you had to mash click i won

REVAN!!! REVAN!!!!!!!!!

why am i dreaming abt revan tho. real as hell but ?????

lmao cringe revan getting blown up. i thought the jedi beat rev-meister in a fight but no. accident

"such visions are often a sign of force sensitivity" COOL YAY GIVE ME A LIGHTSABER

BASTILLE LOST HER FUCKING LIGHTSABER??

CARTH IS RIGHT THATS LIKE DAY ONE JEDI SHIT. ok i still love her even tho shes a bit of a bitch and also doesnt have a saber

if we find a lightsaber im taking it first tho

whys carth getting weird abt me being weird that he doesnt trust me. i just wanna be friends mate

SESH IV: A NEW HOPE

'i mean no disrespect, but perhaps one of the male slaves could serve you better' i went in here to start a slave revolution and instead got called a lesbo

LMAO THERES A SPICE LAB???? WALTER WHITE WHERE ARE YOU

thats insaneee they blew up BILLIONS of people to get to one jedi?????? these sith arent fucking around theyre scary

UM THIS IS CRAZY GRAPHICS THE LIGHTING IS CLEARER/DARKER WHEN I COVER THE SUN W THE SHIP EDGE?? 2003 IS THE YEAR OF THE FUTURE

someone just called me padawan i kinda assumed i was in my late 20s do i just have baby vibes

all the jedi in the movies are so chill but every kotor jedi i've met so far has been a bit of a bitch

YO THEY HAVE A YODA!!! its not THE yoda but

cool so these guys are just the regional managers at best. your asses are not the council

why can everyone smell my force juju so strong

THATS STRAIGHT UP YODA'S CLONE WARS VA

why does fake yoda not blink both eyes at the same time. im calling him master tortimer he reminds me of the animal crossing mayor

bastila there was no need for such a fancy bow

malak is like evil aang

revan is so much shorter than malak omg

are me and bastila sharing dreams. are we both obsessed w revan

poor mission ):

WHAT WAS MASTER TORTIMER ABT TO SAY????????? EVER SINCE WHEN??? DID WE KNOW EACH OTHER BEFORE MY AMNESIACS????? DID BASTILA TELL U SMTHN MORE WHEN I WASNT IN THE ROOM???

im intrigued i like this whole hidden jedi shtick its very compelling. so is whatever theyre hiding from me

kinda surprising no jedi found me before tho given my force juju is so strong

IM A LEGIT JEDI NOW??? SICK!!!

does revan rlly not have pronouns i thought that was a tumblr thing but they straight up are a nonbinary icon ive never heard a single pronoun used. revan's pronouns are revan/revan's

damn revan seems so cool in these stories (charismatic war hero that convinced their troops to join them as conqueror?? julius caesar) and yet all we've seen them do onscreen is get blown up and die by accident

A YEAR AGO? the way they were talking i assumed revan died like. a week before the game started

master uh i forgot his name he has martin scorcese vibes said revan was a paragon of the jedi so what im getting is that all jedi gifted kids turn evil

even if i didnt know revan as a tumblr darling id KNOW revan has to be alive somewhere they way everyone talks abt them is too cool for a character who exploded and died. i think. i hope. I PAID £1.19 TO MEET REVAN

'only you and bastila can stop malak' seriously????? just us two?? ive been a jedi for like, 6 minutes and you guys keep calling bastila young???? do you guys not wanna help??

omg im getting carth to traumadump! <3

HE WAS ON REVAN'S ARMY>??

i totally knew the jedi code and did not have to google it whatsoever

they rlly said fuck going to illum heres a crystal from the bin

he told me id be a great sentinel and i was like i know but i want blue cause i dont wanna be matchies with bastila

OGH!!! I HAVE A LIGHTSABER!!!! THIS IS GAME OF THE YEAR!!!!

omg i made my lightsaber perfectlyyy which is rare <3 getting a good grade in jedi

maybe i was a travelling lightsaber salesman before my amnesia

seriously though WHO was i everyone's kinda stopped acting like i have amnesia since the first mission BUT IVE PLAYED DRAGON AGE THAT GIVES YOU OPPORTUNITIES TO RP UR PAST. THIS DOESNT. EITHER THIS GAME IS BAD (but i love it so its not) OR I HAVE RETROGRADE AMNESIA

also everyone keeps being like "Oh ur force juju is so strong" AND NOBODY FOUND ME TIL NOW??? suspicious. did getting a really bad concussion activate the force in me

im too confused and amnesiac'd to think abt anything except the fact i have a glowing stick now

FSESH FIVE:

big fan of using aliens to avoid having to get VAs to read every line

oh so carth's boyfriend saul betrayed him and became leader of the sith fleet so he has trust issues

well he needs to calm down. i can't betray him cause i dont know what the fuck is happening

yooo i love the design differences on the mandalorians

oh my god this lady wanted to fuck her droid cause it was her husband's. and then it killed itself. wtf. game of the year tho

wtf they jebaited this juhani person into going dark side but then i talked her out of it. that seems a bit mean of them

i hope she can join my party she looks too unique to be a random npc

ive been thinking and I might be going crazy but there was a loading screen tip ages ago that said jedis could wipe ppl's mind and all i thought at the time was 'fuck the shitshow acolyte didnt make that up'. but what if one of them wiped MY memory and i used to be a jedi or smthn ????????

cause they keep being like ur weirdly good at this??? did bastila steal my memories??????????

I KNOW I HAVE AMNESIA!! EVEN IF EVERYONE DOESN'T BRING IT UP BC THEYRE PROBABLY TRYING TO SAVE MY FEELINGS

if i dont have amnesia and im just deeping the fact the opening had my life being mansplained then im gonna look real stupid

anyway time 2 go to the fuckshit ruins cave where r-dog and malak went to

"it must be referring to revan. the dark lord and malak--" revan's pronouns are revan/thedarklord

bastila said theres no mention of the Builders in the archives. does she just know every text off by heart

THIS DROID IS 20K YEARS OLD ???

omg i can equip 2 lightsabers at once. game of the year

OK I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID ABOUT THE AMNESIA BASTILA IS ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY BACKGROUND THAT I CAN ANSWER. I REPEAT I DO NOT HAVE AMNESIA

ok i didnt get choices and i didnt really uh… say anything that i didnt already get told im still not ruling out amnesia

also booo i didnt get to find out how old i was

master tortimer rlly looks like the ultimate ketamine yoda

LMAO THERE WAS A DIALOGUE OPTION 2 CALL JUHANI A CATGIRL

omg kashyyk from jedi fallen order!!!

I CAN UPGRADE MY LIGHTSABER THIS IS JUST LIKE JFO

omg this ship is fun i wish everyone had personalised bunk spaces like hfw… a game which came out 19 years after this i should probably just take what we have

im gonna start w manaan cause im p sure thats what B-dog said n its the same language the droid was speakin

omg hyperspace from star wars

THE GUY THE BUILDING FELL ON???

am i having dreams abt revan bc bastila killed revan and im connected to her this is so roundabout

maybe i'd sleep better if my ponytail wasnt clipping into the pillow

[kiwi accent] six

carth needs a xanax every time i think we're friends he stops trusting me

also lmao he actually pointed out how wild it was that a day one padawan is being sent on this uber important mission and HES RIGHT IT IS WEIRD!! i thought it was main character logic but he's calling it out

i really really like the sense of unease that's setting in like at first i thought it was just cause im not used to 2003 games but no this is on purpose bc carth my friend carth keeps calling it out

THERE IS A CHILD ON MY SHIP ??????????????????

lmao the representative for menaan is roland wann. its like poetry it rhymes

there are no cameras in the sith hangar <3 rookie error i can commit crimes now

bastila's favourite hobby is getting shot and walking into my grenades

this isnt a combat system this is a missing system

I GOT ARRESTED???? IM JUST A GIRL

nvm i had a datapad that said the sith were evil so theyve let me go free and we're besties

why do i feel like ive just walked into an underwater horror mission

this suit waddles at the speed of a penguin on fentanyl

i tamed the beastie this is like how to train your dragon

MALAK FIRED ON REVAN?????? WERENT THEY BEST FRIENDS???????

but maybe revan escaped when bastila wasnt looking THEYRE FINE THEYRE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE. I BELIEVE

so hopefully when we run into revan they'll be like agh i changed my ways cause of the being shot thing and they'll be my bestie

great news i successfully communicated w the ship child and gave her back to dantooine. my girl has shockingly good linguisitics skills

bastila is so dour "oh watch out for the dark side" GIRL I AM. I NEED TO GET THE BEST GRADE IN GAME MORALITY

ok OFF TO KASHYYK i hope cal kestis is there… thru the force i guess… bc he wont be born for another 4000 years but its whatever

omg you'll never guess what. another vision. wow its one of the thangs. cool this is a tomorrow me problem

[ggidolsmuts]

Yuqi's Boy Toy's Ball Toy - (G)I-dle Yuqi

"God I hate big dicks!"

"I hope you haven't looked in the mirror recently then," you reply, matching Yuqi's snark with yours as she comes barging into your apartment.

"Fuck you." She helps herself to a beer in your fridge.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, teach guys that wanting to smash is figurative, not literal."

"I'll send out a meeting invite, anything else?"

"No, I just came to steal your beer."

"And I get nothing out of it today?"

"Blame my one night stand last night. If you wanted some you should've answered yesterday."

"I know a drunk booty call when I see one, I'm surprised he got anything done with you."

"Well he definitely did, ugh it's still sore." You sigh and give in.

"There's an ice pack in the freezer and hot packs on the shelf, use whichever you think helps."

"Mwah, you're the best." Yuqi pecks you in thanks. She grabs a hot pack and flops onto the couch, placing it over her abdomen. "Ooh that's good. All you need is some pads, condoms, and plan B, and I'm never leaving this place." 

"I am not your personal pharmacy. How long are you going to be here?"

"Why? Somewhere you have to be, or someone coming over that you have to be in? Spill it!"

"No, I have errands to run, and I don't need you bringing bad fuck number 2 here."

"I won't, I'll just be on your computer going through your search history."

"You're not staying here while I'm out, you can either come with me to the supermarket, or you can leave when I leave and come back later."

"Will you text me when you come back dear?" Yuqi simpers.

"No."

"Fine, guess I'm coming with you then."

You regret your decision, as by the end of the shopping trip, you've bought more for Yuqi than for yourself.

"Thank you so very much," she says as she places her snacks on the shelf.

"You're welcome, daily interest rate is 50%."

"For?"

"The snacks."

"You mean you weren't treating me to them?"

"What have you done to deserve me treating you?" Yuqi grins—the foreplay begins.

"Want to get yourself off today?" She hovers over you at your desk, a hand on your thigh. 

"You say that like I can't get myself off without you." You smirk and bring up Yuqi's Instagram deliberately, as if looking up her photos for "material". 

"Oh but I get five star reviews. You said, and I quote, 'Damn you make me cum so hard Yuqi.'"

"Did I now?"

"Mmhmm, look it up." You look up her pictures instead, finding one of her biting on her top, revealing the bra underneath. 

"This is a nice one, makes sense too. Only way to shut you up is with something in your mouth."

"Well, if you think that's enough for you, sure. I didn't realize you were scared about finishing too fast."

"I was just trying to spare your sore pussy. I remember you saying you're out of commission, something about hating big dicks?"

"Yeah but, it's okay, I guess I could go one round today, you're not that big. Plus I like your dick," Yuqi whispers in your ear.

"I didn't know we're playing two truths and a lie." You bring a hand to her leg, feeling your way up her thigh. "Well then, your tits look huge in this photo, I too am down for a round, and, just to be considerate, I can make you cum in one thrust, so you won't feel too sore." 

Yuqi instantly gets the lie, and she snarls, digging her nails into your thigh. "Big words for a small man, care to back them up?"

"Small tits for a loudmouth, your back is definitely not sore." You grab at her chest, and she smacks you away. Yuqi swings her leg across your lap, straddling you.

"Fuck you, put up or shut up." Her glare is venomous, but you both knew it to be impotent—she loved to spice things up, a little gamesmanship in the proceedings.

"Yeah? Want me to get some teeth in the game?" You lift Yuqi's top off her head, pushing up her bra and getting some teeth in her game, gently tugging on a nipple with your teeth.

"Yeah, no way you can get me to cum in one shot. If you fail, I get the snacks for free, and you pay for my pills, I know you won't be able to stop yourself from cumming in me."

"If you do cum, what do I get?"

"What do you want?"

"Introduce me to your idol friends, you get boring after a while."

"Boring? I'll show you boring!" Yuqi pulls off your shirt before kissing you furiously, your teeth knocking into hers. You remain unperturbed.

"Do we have a deal?"

"I give you the number of one of my idol friends."

"No, you ask around, see who is looking for something fun, and let them know about the good times you have with me."

"All of them?"

"Oh? Are they all looking for some fun? The more the merrier."

"You get one."

"I get to choose then."

"No, I go through your search history and pick one for you."

"All you'll see in my search history is 'women bustier than Yuqi', it won't be very helpful." Yuqi's nails graze your neck as you carry her to the bedroom.

"You really know how to push my buttons, asshole."

"Only because it works." You dip your hands beneath the front of her shorts, finding her wet already—Yuqi loves the back and forth, the challenge you put up against her, willing to trigger her to get her angry and excited. Sex with Yuqi borders on hate sex, specifically sex that both of you would hate to give up.

"Fine, you get to choose, but no promises, you know how flighty we idols are."

"Oh I definitely experienced it today, I wasn't expecting my weekend to be so noisy."

"You're welcome," Yuqi sneers, kicking off her clothes and watching you take off yours. You disappear into the bathroom for a moment, and come out with a small ball. "What's that?"

"A little toy I've been thinking to try." You bring it immediately between her thighs.

"Whoa, where do you think you're putting it?"

"Relax, it's squishy, I can take it out easily, your pussy's not that tight." You hand it to her, and Yuqi looks it over carefully before giving it back to you.

"Doesn't seem like a vibrator."

"It's not, just a little squishy ball. I'll just push it in a little bit, basically, just the tip."

"Pfft fine." You pinch the ball in two fingers and lightly push it just past her lips—not enough for it to be moved further in by her muscles, just deep enough to not fall out.

"Okay there?"

"Yeah I guess, feels odd but whatever."

"Good." You get on top of her, kissing her while your hands moved to her modest chest. For all your badmouthing of her tits, you did like playing with them, hearing how she reacted to you. "Such nice little tits."

"Ahh..." Yuqi knows that you know she's actually really sensitive there. "Get down there and suck them."

"Aye aye missy." You kiss your way down, all around her soft peaches, leaving hickeys on the side of them, places where there's no risk of showing on stage.

"You know the coordis give me looks when they see them right?"

"Before or after you flaunt what good sex we have to them?"

"It's okay, I'm going to tell them how much my pussy hurts after you fail today."

"We'll see about that." You suck on her little dime pieces, leaving them slick and shiny. Yuqi's hands are everywhere—on your shoulders, in your hair, on your neck. You hate it but allow yourself to suffer her scratches—with her long idol nails, you definitely end up with more marks than she does usually. Imperiously you pin her wrists above her head, and with your free hand you firmly tug her hair back, exposing her delicious pale neck to you. You lean in close, kissing a known weak spot of hers. You know she doesn't want marks there, but that doesn't stop you from showing it love, a quick flick of your tongue over her skin before you dry it off with a gentle breath.

"Trying to delay the inevitable are you?" Yuqi sputters as you kiss along her jaw. "Just hurry up and fail and we can just do things normally."

"Looks like someone's needy, I'm trying to delay the inevitable for you." You smile and hover over her, your cock resting against her mound.

"Yeah right, I have other..." Yuqi drifts off, and you watch the arousal hit her, her pupils dilating, a flush going to her cheeks. "W-What the fuck?" She looks down her body, at your cock. "I, mm, I need it! What— The toy, did you drug me?"

"Of course not, let me take it out, you'll see." Just the dip of your fingers into her is enough to make Yuqi moan loudly. You hold the squishy ball to her face, and when you gently squeeze it, a few drops land on her chest—her juices. With the ball inside her, you've been effectively giving Yuqi "just the tip" this whole time, teasing her along with everything else you did to her. The ball soaked up her juices as she got wet, swelling in size, parting her walls just that little bit more. The whole time she never noticed, too caught up by your foreplay, when the true edging was happening between her legs.

Now though Yuqi immediately feels what her pussy has been crying out for—dick, and yours is the closest one. Having been held open for so long, Yuqi's pussy needs a cock to split her open, expecting the "tip" to finally come through and fuck her.

"You, god, fucker, need you!" she gasps in her husky voice, legs trying to wrap around your hips, making sure you can't get away.

"Are you sure? I'm afraid I'll hurt you if I put it in right now."

"No you, hnngh dumbass!" With the ball gone both you and Yuqi can see how wet she is, the inside of her thighs beginning to turn shiny.

"Or what if you cum right away?

"I won't, I'm not gonna—" Yuqi hiccups as you brush your tip against her entrance, and she can't help but buck her hips, her pussy trying to grab your tip already.

"Yeah? I should tease you a little further then." You grab the ball again, leaving a trail of her own juices as you bring it down her body.

"No! I, mmmmm!" Yuqi whines as you nudge her lips with your cock, as if making sure she's as wide open as possible. "I don't care, just put it in already!"

"So demanding Yuqi, fine!" You toss the ball away and wrap your arms under her shoulders, bracing yourself around her small frame. With your hips drawn back you're looking at Yuqi, her eyes flickering between your face and your cock. "You are going to cum." Her eyes glare at you, trying to rise to the challenge, but as soon as your tip touches her pussy again she wavers, her eyelids fluttering.

You pull her down by the shoulders as you slam up and forward into her.

"Hnngh oh my god!" Poor Yuqi never stood a chance. Her eyes roll into her skull before the rest of her body follows—her head tilts back, then her chest rises, then her flat tummy. Yuqi's dead silent, but you know she's cumming hard, cumming from the very first thrust. Her walls clench around you in a wild rhythm, and she digs her nails into your arms. You start to fuck her through the waves of pleasure, feeling her walls flutter, being rubbed against back and forth as you saw in and out of her viciously. With your hold on her shoulders each thrust compresses the already small Yuqi even further, making sure you're hitting as deep as you can on every punishing strike into her.

"Guhh, hnnghk!" Yuqi's gurgling, choking like you're skullfucking her through her mouth, but no, you're just pounding the air out of her. Your hips smash into hers, the shockwave of force and pleasure rippling through her tight body and going straight to her head. Yuqi's going to be in pain after this, and she's going to love it. Yuqi's screaming like nails on a chalkboard, except the chalkboard is your arms, and she's leaving deep red lines all down your sides. Yuqi can't tell if she's experiencing multiple orgasms, or one massive explosion of pleasure in her pussy. It's the first time she's ever cum this fast or this hard, and her brain can't even function well enough to even scream.

"I win," you snarl into her ear, and you give Yuqi a different kind of explosion in her womb, blasting her depths with your seed. You stop moving, hilting yourself in her, and you think Yuqi blacks out for a second, her limbs going limp for a brief moment before she regains her hold on you. The actual act took all of a minute or two, yet both of you are spent like you've been fucking for hours.

"Holy shit," Yuqi whispers, trembling under you. "I've never cum like that, what the fuck did you do?"

"You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Cheater, that ball is a fucking cheat code."

"You let me use it, you could've said no."

"I— Ugh damn you." Yuqi pulls you in for a fierce kiss, making her displeasure known by biting on your lip hard enough to draw a little blood—having sex with Yuqi really is a battle, leaving both of you bloodied and bruised. "Fine, you win."

You slip out of her eventually, and Yuqi curses you further.

"Damn, I guess you really can't help but cum in me huh? Now I gotta make a trip to the pharmacy."

"No need, I have the pills here."

"I thought you said you didn't have them!"

"No, I said I wasn't your personal pharmacy, that's all. You don't get them when someone finishes in you, you get them when I cum in you." Yuqi blushes slightly but fires back.

"Possessive prick."

"Says the lady scratching up a storm on my arms, might as well brand me with 'Property of Yuqi'." She gasps at the lines she wrote on you.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't realize it was that bad."

"It's fine, are you good?" You pass her a glass of water and the pills.

"Yeah, I'm going to be extra sore tomorrow, but at least you made it worth it."

"Good." You nuzzle Yuqi. "Thanks for coming over."

"Playboy," she chides you. You wonder if she's this way with her other fuckbuddies, you hope not. "Just let me use your bathroom and I'll—" Yuqi tries to push herself off the bed, but finds that her arms and legs are still weak.

"Fucked you that good huh?"

"Shut up." You bring her some tissues to at least wipe the mess between her legs, and eventually she's recovered enough to wobble her way to the bathroom. After a quick shower she's put together enough to head out, and you're patched up enough to see out the rest of your day.

"Pick up next time I call you, it's all your fault last night was so bad for me!" Yuqi's being illogical of course, but that's the only retort she can muster after you won today's bet so thoroughly.

"Sure sure, at least I made today better. Don't forget, I get to choose."

"Yeah yeah, god I feel like a pimp." Your phone dings as Yuqi sends you a list of her idol contacts.

"What, no pics?" 

Yuqi flips you the middle finger before slamming the door in a huff.

"Just go look them up yourself, at least it'll diversify your browsing history!"

A/N: So I had two ideas for Yuqi, but I didn't feel like writing two Yuqi's so quickly, so I picked the one I think she fit best with, and I'll save that other idea for someone else maybe related to Yuqi (teased here as her idol friend). Might call this "Six Degrees of Song Yuqi" or I might write the second idea for Yuqi anyways, who knows. Anyways the pic is very hot too, girl has her fun lol. Thanks for reading!

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, best friend! Eddie, friends to lovers, mentions of bodily injury, mentions of masturbation (m), oral sex(m)

Summary: Eddie hurts his dick and as his best friend, you decide to help him ease his pain.

WC: 3K

A/N: I am so tickled by the idea of Eddie wrecking his cock and balls on accident so I had to write about it and wedge in some spice as well. Enjoy!

When Eddie had told you he wasn't feeling well enough to hangout tonight he should have realized that someone like you, caring and loyal almost to a fault, would take it upon themselves to help in any way they could, showing up at his trailer a few hours later with dinner and a zipper pouch full of medicine he might need.

"Ding dong, I'm here to take care of you, Munson", you'd gleamed at him playfully.

It was no secret that he didn't take the best care of himself whenever he was under the weather. Eddie was known for skipping his meds and spending most of the day swathed in a cocoon made of blankets, emerging hours later to pad into the kitchenette where he'd nibble at cold, leftover takeout before weakly traipsing back to bed.

So, when you showed up at his front door with your arms wound around a thermos full of homemade chicken soup and a Tupperware container warm with baked salmon, he should have felt happy. He should have felt grateful for the trouble you'd gone through just to make sure that he ate well and was looked after while he was on his own but instead, all he felt was the sharp, piercing sting of guilt.

The thing was, Eddie wasn't really sick.

He wasn't running a fever like he'd claimed over the phone. He'd purposely hidden the real reason why he couldn't come over to your place and watch a movie like the two of you had planned because well, he was embarrassed.

The truth was, Eddie couldn't come hangout because his dick and balls were killing him.

It had happened last night.

He'd been spread out on the couch while Wayne was away, dressed only in a pair of boxers snug around his hips with a movie playing on TV to keep him entertained throughout the night.

As usual, a blunt was held between his plush lips for most of the evening too, a bottle of jack by his feet which he'd pick up and gulp from time to time.

The combination of alcohol and the weed served a particular purpose that night – helping to make the tooth achingly bad acting in Zombie Lake more tolerable, a movie he'd picked solely for the gratuitous nudity.

Forty minutes of naked, unsuspecting women wading in zombie infested waters later and he was more than a little strung out at that point, rendered blissfully languid while he lay slumped against the couch.

Eddie had picked that moment to reach for the whiskey with his bloodshot, half lidded eyes still plastered on the TV screen, missing twice before he managed to pick it up with light fingers.

Bringing the three quarters full bottle up to his lips for another swig, that was when the booze slipped out of his loose grip, too high to react quickly enough and catch it before it was too late.

With his thighs spread far apart, the full weight of the bottle landed directly on his crotch, the pain shooting from between his legs like daggers, enough to make him feel like the air had been kicked right out of his lungs.

The carpet and couch soaked up most of the spilled whiskey, the nearly empty bottle lying on its side on the floor while Eddie couldn't do much but cup both hands over his junk and curl into himself, trying to grunt, groan and hiss through the pain as tears brewed in his eyes.

Now, it's almost been a full 24 hours since the incident happened but his dick's still super sore from the impact. And to make matters worse his balls are blue in more ways than one.

See, Eddie's got the kind of sex drive that had him jacking off at least twice a day to keep himself sane but now thanks to his injury, he's already feeling pent up, unable to tug his swollen cock and give himself that much needed release.

So, though your outfit isn't provocative, it's still you, his best friend whom he's harbored less than platonic feelings for so of course your denim shorts and your tank top are making him want to act up, the swirling desire at the base of his stomach burning even hotter with the way you're taking care of him, showing him a level of concern no one else has before.

It isn't fair, he thinks, having to sit across from you on the couch while he tries to fight off the growing ache in his cock, tries to will his sore member soft for the sake of your friendship as well as curbing his own pain.

You're yet to notice his dilemma though, rummaging through your bag while Eddie tries not to let the scent of your body wash trigger flashes of you sitting in your bath tub with your bare tits above water, all wet and soapy with your nipples all hard and the bubbles trailing between your cleavage and–

"Shit", he hisses when a twinge of pain flares as his dick starts to twitch in his sweats.

"Everything okay, Eds?", you look up from your bag when you hear it but he's quick to wipe the grimace from his face, faking his best smile at you.

"All good. So, what are we doing next?"

He's relieved when he watches your soft smile slowly return to your face, the kind that reaches your eyes and curves your lips in that way that makes him want to reach out and cup your cheek, running his thumb over your soft skin before he tells you how pretty he thinks you are.

"How about casual sex?", you ask, all chipper.

"…what?"

In an instant Eddie's whole body alternates between flashes of frigid cold and scorching hot. Had he heard you right? were you…offering? fuck, his dick is throbbing so bad in his sweats right now.

You dive your hand back into your bag, pulling out a VHS tape and holding it out for Eddie to see.

"Figured a comedy would be for the best", you waved the tape in his gawking face, his stomach somersaulting when he reads the title. Of all the movies you could have picked, you just had to go pick the one called Casual Sex? didn't you?

"Plus, I know how much you like Lea Thompson so I figured this would be a good pick", you smiled sweetly at him, tapping a finger over the actress pictured on the cover.

Another sharp prick of guilt and another dull ache radiates in Eddie's crotch because his mind's being especially cruel to him right now, dredging up unwanted memories of the time he wore out a copy of Howard the Duck by beating his meat to Lea Thompson's scenes all day and night.

"Uh, got anything else?", he croaks, clearing his throat when you narrow your eyes at him a little suspiciously.

After a little back and forth, the two of you end up watching The Thing to Eddie's relief. Nothing there that might trigger a boner except the couple of times you squealed adorably when Kurt Russell popped up on screen, kicking your feet and hugging your knees to your chest, inadvertently making your cleavage more noticeable over the neckline of your tank top.

Eddie's able to ignore it for the most part, that was until you offered to help clean up a little once the movie was over, bending over in your denim shorts to gather the empty soda cans sitting on the table in front of the couch.

Despite the alarm bells echoing in his head, he can't seem to help it, eyes trailing up the back of your smooth, bare thighs, settling on your ass and the way he can just about make out a peek of your cheeks now that your shorts have ridden up high.

Oh shit.

Up until now you'd been pretty pert all night but when you turn around, you're instantly startled by the look on Eddie's face, all twisted up and pinched as he presses a cushion into his lap and begins to wince.

"Eddie, what's wrong?", you set the cans aside, dropping back down on to the couch beside him.

Yet another flash of pain courses through him when he catches sight of the way your breasts bounce in your tank top when you take a seat. Jesus, this wasn't going to be easy, was it?

Eddie tries to mask it but you can read the pain there easily, especially when you're so close to him now, close enough that your shoulder brushes against his bicep.

"Eddie please, you can tell me. What's wrong?"

If there was a way out of this without having to admit the truth, without having to tell you how he'd given a whole new meaning to the term whiskey dick, he couldn't seem to find it, feeling helpless as he crumbles under the weight of your concerned, round-eyed stare.

"I lied, okay? I'm not sick, I just…"

Insides twisting, he has to squeeze his eyes shut the moment he sees the confusion register on your face, the way your eyebrows draw together and your eyes narrow. It's too much for him to handle and it all comes flooding out at once.

"I dropped a bottle of whiskey on my dick last night and now the damn thing's killing me because you look so– uh. Fuck. You look so…like, this and it's just– it's a lot"

Daring to open his eyes again, he finds that your own eyes have gone understandably wide, your lips slightly parted too and he hates himself for thinking how badly he'd like to slip his fingers between them and watch you suck.

"Oh. So like, is it– are you hurt badly?", you break the silence after a few seconds of processing his word vomit, blinking up at Eddie like you're fascinated to learn more about his injured cock.

"I mean, I don't think it's anything I need to go to hospital over but yeah. Hurts a lot", he replies a little sheepishly, a side of Eddie you don't see very often because he's far and away from the shy type that's for sure.

"Like when you get hard?", you tilt your head to the side curiously.

Eddie blinks back at you when you say it, clearly taken aback by how casually you're treating this whole situation after how hard he'd tried to hide it but he manages to answer you with a slow nod.

He shivers next when suddenly you drop your gaze to the cushion he's got pressed over his aching boner. "Hm… it’s probably not going to go away anytime soon either, huh? we should do something about that", you suggest thoughtfully.

In that moment, all he can do is look at you in disbelief, sweat beading at his temple and his fingers trembling on top of the cushion. This couldn't really be happening, could it? His best friend since, forever, offering to get him off?

Eyes drifting up to his once more, you lean a little closer, voice dropping down to a whisper. "I could help you", you offer, tentatively placing your hand on Eddie's knee. "Only if you want me to."

Adams apple bobbing, it hurts Eddie when he swallows, finding his throat's turned dry and tight in the last few seconds.

"Seriously? you'd actually do that? um, are you sure?"

You bite back a laugh because the look on his face is nothing short of adorable, all wide eyed and eager like a puppy awaiting a treat.

"Well, you could sit here with your bruised dick and keep whimpering like a baby or you could let me make you feel better. What's it going to be, Eds?", you quirk up an eyebrow at him at the same time the corner of your mouth picks up into a playful smirk.

"The second one please", he answers quickly, his cheeks flooding with so much color you kind of want to pinch them and tease him about how cute he looks right now.

"Thought so."

Smiling, you pick yourself up off the couch, carefully lowering yourself to kneel between Eddie's legs when you place your hands on his knees and gently encourage him to spread them apart.

He's quick to help you when you reach for the waistband of his sweatpants next, carefully pulling both it and his boxers down to finally free his cock.

For both of you, it's surreal being in this position – Eddie with his cock out, all hard and throbbing for you and you wedged perfectly between his legs like a puzzle piece he'd been searching for all his life.

You have to take a few seconds to admire it; the way the length of him blushes red and curves up towards his belly, the way the many veins wrap around his thickness and the dark, wiry thatch of hair at his base, untrimmed and full. Just how you'd always imagined based on how wild Eddie kept the hair on his head.

Eyes trailing lower, you have to resist the urge to palm his balls to keep from possible hurting him. You want to feel the weight of them in your hand though because you can't help but think they look so full and that makes you feel sorry for Eddie and how he'd had to deal with that discomfort all day.

The thought has you pushing your lips out into a sympathetic little pout, hand reaching out to finally touch him. Gently, you use your fingers to pull back his soft foreskin, leaning forward and parting your lips to delicately kitten lick at his red, leaking tip, keeping your eyes fixed on his face for any signs of discomfort.

You're pleased to find none, chest blooming with pride as you watch complete bliss wash over Eddie's face, swirling your tongue gently and collecting beads of precum when you hear him sigh and moan with relief.

"Oh my god, that's – that's really fucking good. Please keep going", he whines unabashedly because that persistent ache that's been troubling him since last night is being soothed so fucking well by your eager tongue. At this point he doesn't even care what kind of sounds you might pull out of him, desperate to feel more of your touch.

"Don't think I'm gonna last long", he gulps when you blink up at him with your pretty lips wrapped around his tip. "Your mouth feels too good."

His words make your confidence rise like steadily billowing smoke. "You don't need to", you tell him truthfully. "I just want to make you feel better", pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his smooth head, loving the way his breath stutters when you do it and the feeling of his sticky precum coating your lips in a shiny film. Like he's marking you..

As you continue, you refrain from using your hands while you pleasure him, keeping them pressed flat against his inner thighs, using only your mouth to kiss and lick up and down his rigid shaft as your nose nudges against it softly, returning to suckle at his tip from time to time.

It's easy to tell how badly Eddie must have needed this because he's unravelling so quickly under your touch as he throws his head back against the couch, his hands balled into fists by his sides while he whimpers about how well you're doing.

He's so pretty like this with his neck bared to you but you miss his gaze, removing your swelling lips from his cock to coax him back. "Don't hold back with me, Teddie. Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you", you coo earnestly.

Lifting his cloudy head to look down at you, it's Eddie's turn to surprise you when he brings one hand up to brush back a few strands of hair that'd gotten stuck to your damp cheek, a brief moment of tenderness that makes the butterflies resting in the depths of your stomach wake and beat their wings.

"Could you go a little lower?", he asks you, chest heaving and lips slightly pink from biting.

"Want me to lick your balls?", you try to clarify.

That makes him chuckle, a sweet, airy sound that makes you feel like there's sunlight spilling through the spaces between your ribs, filling up your whole chest with pleasant warmth.

"When d'you start talking like this, huh? Y' got such a dirty mouth on you, sweetheart", he teases you lightly, pulling his hand back so you can get back to working him.

You simply smile against his shaft in reply, feigning coy and innocence while trailing kisses lower and lower until you reach the seam of his balls. Placing your warm tongue flat against it, you draw it up slowly, wetting his heated skin before pressing more kisses against his sack, giggling when the hair there starts to tickle your lips.

"Think you can handle it if I take you in my throat? I'll go slow, I promise", you speak up from between his legs.

Given how often he's pumped his cock to the very thought of you throating him, Eddie nearly trips over himself trying to find the words to answer.

"Holy shit, yes please", he manages to let out with a strained groan.

That's all you needed to hear before you're taking him into your mouth again, bobbing up and down a few times slowly, careful not to let your teeth scrape his sensitive skin before you bob deeper and let him reach the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex and making your throat close around him nice and tight.

"Baby– baby, fuck I'm going to cum", he gasps, hips jerking, eyes squeezing shut.

And that's all the warning he can manage to give you before he's spilling down your throat, thick, creamy ropes of it which you swallow down eagerly and as best as you can.

Most of it slides down the warm, wet contracting walls of your throat but you realize just how pent-up Eddie must have been when your cheeks puff out a little with a generous amount of his cum that you couldn't manage to gulp down fast enough, pulling off of Eddie's softening cock with a mouthful of spend sitting warm on your tongue, coating the insides of your cheeks.

Sitting there on your knees while Eddie pants and recuperates, a deeply curious part of you has you swishing his cum in your mouth, savoring the distinct, tangy taste of him before you part your lips and let him look inside.

Exhausted but entirely amazed, he gawks at you and the viscous mess of spit and semen in your mouth, tempted to stick his own tongue in there and taste himself on you before you press your swollen lips back together and promptly swallow, a beaming smile breaking out on your face.

"See? told you I'd take care of you."

[monkebearness]

Maple Spice and Everything Nice

Yamada Kaede (tripleS) x Male Reader

Tags: smut, alcohol, fingering, blowjob, daddy kink, wall and standing sex, some fluff and angst

Word count: 10.4k

After nine tedious minutes of waiting in line, four friends finally enter through the doors of hell, or heaven, depending on one’s perspective. Welcomed by the almost deafening speakers, they witness the wave of guests all over the place, most of whom may as well embody the nine inner circles of Inferno or the seven terraces of Purgatorio—although some of them will probably consider this realm their paradise for a night. Yet one of these friends does not have the same level of enthusiasm as the other three as his mind is filled with doubt and regret for setting foot in this place on this weekend night.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea to bring me here.”

“Come on, now. No need to be a party pooper, man. We promise you won’t regret this.”

“I already am, though. Besides, I don't mind being a party pooper.”

“Dude, Honggi’s not entirely wrong. Junghoon-ah, we might not get another chance to have fun in the next two weeks since people started booking reservations at the diner!”

“Well, I can’t blame customers for wanting to dine there. Isn’t that what gives us jobs in the first place? I can’t even believe you’re also going along with this, Kangmin-ah.”

“I know, I know... But think of this occasion as spending our paychecks for something new and fresh. Plus, you're the most hardworking guy between the four of us… This is your time to relax!”

“But this isn't the first place that comes to my mind when it comes to relaxation.”

“Oh, just wait until you meet someone who will change your mind,,” Honggi points his finger at him a few times. “Then you'll thank us for letting you come here!”

Autumn has arrived. Clubs were never Junghoon's style, it never has been. Ever since he’s gone on his own, he often spent his independence working from job to job across various kitchens in Seoul. But his colleagues couldn't help but insist that he tag along with them during his sixth month of working at a casual dining restaurant. And tonight, they’re inside a venue where most casual things also happen to their visitors. It’s the first time in a while that he hasn’t stayed inside home. Aside from buying groceries during weekends, going on jogs at local parks, or killing his free time on his laptop with content that’s either insightful or “brain rot-inducing,” though he tends to balance the two, more in favor of the former.

“Yeah, dude,” Insoo chimes in. “Who knows if some of us will be lucky enough to bring a chick to their place tonight? Ever thought about that benefit?”

“You should’ve definitely cleaned up your own place first if you want that to happen,” Junghoon shoots back.

“Eh,” he shrugs. “I’ll just head to their place instead and I'll make them a mess.”

“You know, words like those are why you haven’t hit off with anyone whenever we go here,” Kangmin chimes in.

“Whatever,” he grumbles. He’s had enough of his friends’ banters. “Are we just gonna stand here in the corner like a bunch of dorks or are we gonna start pushing our luck?”

Junghoon considers these given options. “I actually don't mind just standing here—”

“Come on. Get in there, man!” Honggi slowly pushes him as they both walk into the middle of the dance floor while the other two follow. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

And there he is. On the spot with the rest of the guests.

Junghoon slowly nods his head, awkwardly moving to the rhythm of the music. The less he became conscious of the crowd around him, the more he encouraged himself to keep on moving to the upbeat sound. Closing his eyes on his spot, his thoughts reassure him of an upside of clubbing, unlike what his buddies have been suggesting for the past half an hour. It’s a reminder that clubbing doesn’t have to be about flirting or mingling with others. Knowing that he may no longer want to visit a place like this the next time he’ll be invited, he gives it all. Tonight, the kitchen and restaurant are the least of his worries. It's about time he serves himself. Plus, he’s watched or played enough TikTok challenges in the background during his spare time to not be empty-handed for this hyper moment.

But after a minute has passed, Junghoon suddenly bumps into a woman in front of him with force not strong enough to be painful, yet strong enough to interrupt her movement and once unbothered mojo. Slowing down his dancing, he remains alert, with adrenaline pumping to his veins, bracing himself for any form of outburst or reaction from the very person he’s now.

“Joesonghamnida…” he speaks out—raising his voice so she can hear, knowing that he had already disrupted her ethereal spirits.

But as she turns around and meets her eyes with his, her eyes of confusion transform into disbelief, widening at the sight of the man. And just before Junghoon can bow to her in a rapid succession, he reacts similarly as the woman. “Junghoon-sunbaenim?”

“Kaede-ssi.” A smile forms on both their faces, having found familiarity amidst the neon sea of strangers. As the intensity of the music drops, both take the chance to walk to the bar counter, sitting down on the stools and offering each other drinks as an icebreaker to make up for lost time and catch up on their present in the next several minutes.

He looks at her, realizing how much her hair is shorter compared to their last encounter. As her attire looks more daring. It's a new look for her, but he can't help but admit how it suits her, at least in his mind. “You’re the last person I’d see in a place like this,” he teases, before taking a sip of the bottle of light beer she bought him.

“Feeling’s mutual,” she tuts, making him chuckle. To him, she’s more or less the same snarky, sometimes menacing, and cutesy junior he knows, just a few years older since their last encounter. Still kinda snarky, he thinks.

“Well, I didn’t go here by choice,” he clarifies, taking a glance at a distance to check on his friends at the other side of the club, grooving with faces who he has no familiarity with as the music continues to keep enchanting the larger crowd in the middle back into the dimension where electronic and techno music dominates.

“Not all of us have a choice at first,” she takes a sip of the same bottle he bought her, noticeably a much larger amount than his. “I know that sounds dramatic, but I never expected to be an occasional visitor here until my friends practically begged me. Still, there’s a sense of comfort here the longer you're here.”

“I guess that’s true,” he nods, seeing the other side of guests at the venue. Ones who are like them, simply laid back on their seats, chatting or cracking up jokes with friends or newfound companions while the rest keep on grooving. “But that being said, what are you up to these days? Don’t tell me you’re just visiting here every night.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna have fun somewhere where I’m also working. I do some work at some side gigs here and there, and I’m either a part-time coach and fitness or dance instructor on weekdays, I also do some modeling and photoshoots for quick bucks.”

“Got a lot on your plate I see,” he quips, impressed by her list of jobs, listing them as if she’s citing him her past experiences for a job application.

“Yeah, but I’m just making ends meet while I try to find a more stable job…” she groans. “You see, this is why idols are so damn lucky.”

“Couldn’t your parents have helped you with that?” he wonders, though his tone remains cautious. “But I hope you don't take it the wrong way! It's just, the last time I saw them, I remember they were probably one of the most thoughtful and protective folks out there. I’m sure helping you with jobs shouldn’t be that different.”

“It's fine,” she replies, chortling at his abrupt tone of panic. “I get it... But looking back, living here is different from Toyama. I can’t always rely on them. I get to start over and learn to mostly live making my own choices, though it’s also thanks to you and our club that adjusting in these conditions has become a little less difficult.”

“Of course, you were an amazing addition to Mad Money… You were a bit menacing at first, but I thought that was impressive. And a good thing. The girls thought the same. You even taught them a thing or two about Japanese culture.”

“Well,” she sighs. “None of my achievements back then would’ve been possible without you guys… And if I’m being honest—I always appreciate my parents’ job offers through our relatives or their associates. I'll always be touched whenever they worry about me. But I just don't wanna be their little otter anymore, you know? Not all the time.”

“Otter, huh?” Junghoon snorts, though he finds his hoobae’s sentiment to be overall heartwarming. “Mianhae. I understand what you mean. You want to find your own place in this ‘big river.’ It’s just, I can’t believe you still remember that nickname.”

“Of course,” she gloats without shame. “I embrace my spirit animal. Going through those booths at the festival were one of the first things that made my freshman year memorable, including our own. Made me realize it was worth staying here in Korea. Like another big river or sea worth setting my foot on.”

“You mean your paws?” he interposes.

“Yah!” She can’t help but laugh at his tease. “I thought we were being serious here.”

“I’m kidding!” he lets out a snicker. “Kudos to you, I suppose,” he respectfully raises his near-empty bottle with a smile. “You’re now an independent otter—I mean person. You were always one of the most capable members in the club—so now that I think about it, there is no doubt that you’re doing well now.”

She raises her bottle in response, giggling at his verbal slip up, yet hearing his honest compliments only made her smile. “You think that? How so?”

“You didn’t just prove you could do things on your own. You simply can,” he answers with a straight face, delivered with a modest tone. “You were a tough cookie, but you were also a compassionate person. You didn’t hesitate to help out others.”

Only gazing at him with a sense of comfort and perhaps adoration, Kaede doesn’t have a sarcastic remark to throw back at his statement. While some things have changed, some remain the same, even with him, she realizes. “Still got the dad energy, I see.”

“Dad ener—” he raises an eyebrow, making an embarrassed chortle leave his mouth. “Please don’t say it like that. I’m not that older than you.”

“I know, but I don’t know how else to describe it,” she shrugs. “I’ve forgotten how good you are at giving compliments… You’re that wise, perhaps a little too protective sunbae when we first met in the club.”

“I only say those things to someone if they’re true,” he retorts. “Besides, that’s all you. So at least everything we’ve done paid off, to say the least.”

“I guess so… How about you, sunbae?” Now it’s her turn to ask, resting her chin on her clasped hands. “How's our old ‘errand boy’ doing nowadays?”

“Not that different, to be honest,” he tells her. “This errand boy never really found the time to have fun at work. Kitchens tend to be busier on weekdays… So whenever we do find the time to relax, my buddies would invite me to places like this. I just happened to say ‘yes’ this time.”

“That’s exactly why I go here!” she exclaims with excitement in her voice. “Even when I’m not with my friends, blowing off some steam on my own often helps me forget the fact that having dreams isn't enough to make it from day to day.”

“I never thought of it that way,” he places his hand on his chin and rubs it for a moment. “But then again, I’ve always thought you were a great dancer since then, especially when you joined the Dragons. And even if things might not look the best right now, I'm happy that you're still doing something you’re passionate about, Kaede.”

She looks down slightly, trying to hide her reaction, as she can feel her lips forming a smile after hearing Junghoon’s compliment. “Thanks, sunbae… I’m sure you’re doing the best you can too. Not to mention, you have some thoughtful friends who still care about your social needs.”

“You don’t get those often?” he teases.

“I have too much of those from my colleagues!” she shoots back with a giggle. “That's another reason why I go here on my own. I love them, but I rarely get my ‘me times’ whenever they invite me for a get-together.”

“Well, it does feel nice to have some folks to have your back, but as someone who’s the complete opposite, I’m not judging you.” He turns to look around, scanning the areas where he last found his friends. He feels a buzzing in his pocket—receiving a message that only got sent just a minute ago. It’s official: they are nowhere to be seen, making him sigh in disappointment. He looks back to Kaede once again, who was also paying attention to where his eyes went. “Speaking of which… I wished they were still here so I could introduce you to them, but it looks like they got what they wanted, so here we are.”

“Hmm, that can be for another time… More time for ourselves to catch up. It would be disrespectful of me to just let go of a sunbae like you.”

He did not expect those words from her. “Didn’t strike you as the flirtatious type.”

“Yet you were intimidated by me,” she hums, darting her mischievous eyes at him. “Remember those times?”

“Nah, that was back then,” he defends himself as if her remark didn’t affect him. But in actuality, her words strike through him. Not because he was embarrassed by her factual teasing about him during their past, but about the way he’s starting to see her now. How she’s different from her past. How she’s no longer the soft-spoken and cutesy hoobae or an amusing force to be reckoned with that he knew. I mean, of course, she’s still cute, he corrects himself in his mind. And besides, he has long known that her reserved attitude, which others adore her for, was more of a facade or surface level impression whenever she meets new people she’s not hostile to. She can be bubbly, teasing, and energetic at times, just like she is now. But still, there is another shade of beauty from her that he never noticed, or at least appreciated before, considering his mind and heart were longing for someone else. That was a different time. This present matters more.

“I didn’t get why you weren’t popular with girls,” she brings up. “Outside Mad Money, of course. And they adored you very much! They had some of the most stunning visuals of any student on campus, and none of them were idols.”

“I can't believe you're describing yourselves like that.”

“But that's how a lot of folks saw us,” she defends her recollection.

“I know. I was kidding,” He chuckles, before letting out a nostalgic sigh. “Though, with my case, I’m pretty sure that everyone else wouldn’t be into someone like me. At least, not back then. Considering how I looked and how little of a social life I had—that was expected of me... But I didn’t mind. College for me wasn’t about dating or hook-ups.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t be all imposter syndrome on yourself.”

Such a term struck a chord in him, but he keeps himself reasonable, willing to hear the woman’s words out. “I’m not.”

“Look, sunbae. College wasn’t perfect. But I remember it not being as bad, either. Not every person was a bully, and it’s not like everyone doesn’t gain any weight during those times either! Even in our batch, I knew people who don't hold high standards anymore. I knew women who started looking for personality a lot more than looks, though it’s a plus. Some of them didn’t even want relationships ‘cause their hearts were broken by asshats—yet they ended up with folks who were keepers.”

“I understand your point,” he interjects, albeit with a polite tone.

She opens her palms. “And my point is, you had both of those. Personality and looks.”

He guffaws at her claim. “Again with your teases.”

“They're not!” she defends herself. “And if they wanted to hook-up with some stereotypical ulzzang douche, they would’ve gotten that from every fuckboy they see. You’re a keeper, Junghoon-sunbae… Any woman would’ve been lucky to be with you.”

“Well, thanks, I guess,” he takes a final swig of his drink, not reacting much to her point. “But, umm, listening to your point… I can say that I feel fine with the way I am now.”

“And so do I,” she backs him up. There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, some things are better for me.”

���You didn’t enjoy your college dating life?” he asks back.

“It was fine,” she shrugs. “It was like yours, if I guess so myself. Had its ups and downs. Never lived it to the fullest, that’s for sure.”

“But you’re cute and charming. And you were kind of outgoing at times because of the Mad Money Club. That’s like a plus for you when you were meeting people back then.”

“That’s what they all said about me. Cute, adorable, soft-spoken. It’s like most of the people I dated just wanted a companion to hug or talk to, which is fine, if they would have just started making more moves than those two. And I can't even act angry when there's a reason for me to be one! I’m not some rent-a-girlfriend or a living teddy bear!”

“You’re an otter,” he interposes.

“Exactly,” she sarcastically affirms. “They couldn’t even get my spirit animal right.”

“But in all seriousness, you are beautiful, Kaede-ssi. That was their loss.”

“Now, where did those words come from?” she teases him, despite his words triggering a surge of electricity trickling throughout her body. Her mere gaze at Junghoon makes her heart start to skip its usual beat. The way she sees him feels different, at least compared to back then. Even though she knows well that the “beer goggles” effect is nothing but a bunch of baloney, perhaps the alcohol that makes her question things, now that they’ve met after college. “Was your fourth bottle making you tipsy all the sudden?”

“Not drunk, just being honest,” he shoots back. “Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“Fair enough,” she snickers. “But no thanks to you, all I find out tonight are nothing but non-stop surprises.”

“So it’s my fault now?” he questions with a smile forming on his face, surprised at her sudden jab. “You’re blaming the newcomer?”

“In a way,” she taunts even more. “And I don’t wanna miss any more surprises by just letting you leave early.”

“I like the sound of that, actually. What do you have in mind?”

“Why not go for another round?” she suggests, piquing his interest about her more.

“The same bottle?” he wonders. “I feel like you’ve already had three, but okay then.”

“Not that, sunbae,” she stops him before he could raise his hand to the bartender. The woman motions her head behind her, keeping a smug smile at him. Junghoon notices the now-less yet still crowded dance floor, a bit taken aback by her suggestion. “I was thinking we’d head back. I’d rather have fun and be a little more sober.”

“Oh, I’m not the dancing type,” he shakes his head with a humble smile, lifting his hands like he got caught. “You saw me out there. I didn't know how to hit the floor like you did. You were practically an idol!”

“You weren’t that bad,” she reassures him. “I actually think you were better than most of them. You were on the beat.” She stands up from her stool and holds his hand, sending a tingling spark of electricity through his skin. A grin forms around her lips, as her actions fascinate him more. “But this time… You're following my lead.”

Kaede slowly walks Junghoon back to the crowded dance floor, where they would bust out their moves, syncing in their expressive spirits, now that they’re grooving next to each other. The longer he tries to imitate her every style and move, or at least give his own spin to it, Kaede's facial expressions allure Junghoon. Throughout their years in college, Junghoon never saw Kaede as anything more than a hoobae and a friend. Sure, he’s only a year older than her, and they weren’t that close, but they were on good terms. Their presence gave each other comfort and a space to confide in each other whenever they met.

Yet tonight—new feelings from him arise, thanks to their reunion. Unbeknownst to him, she’s not feeling too different. In fact, Kaede may be harboring stronger feelings. Not necessarily something that gives her butterflies on her stomach. Rather, more of a physical one. She never brought it up when they’re talking, but his physique has caught her attention, she wouldn’t have noticed it was him, if it wasn’t for his face. His breath just tempts her to get closer.

“Looking better, sunbae,” she shouts to him while her body sways. “Keep it up!”

As minutes go by, mixes and tunes of songs he’s familiar with play through the speakers.

Balkkeuchi ajjilhage Eodiro hyanghadeunji Sunsuhan sangsang geu kkeut neomeoe Deryeodajweo glassy~~

What you waiting for? ige tarakimyeon we fall fall fall What you looking for? weonhandamyeon now we fall we fall we fall

nasseon ikkeullimeul majuhan sungan mweonga dalla I won’t let you out of my sight jom deo ppajyeodeulge do me right

Mmmm I can melt an igloo Yeah cause I’m so dang hot~~

He has little to no clue how to dance any of the songs' choreo but he can only find them pleasant tunes to dance to. And now that he's with a familiar face, Junghoon feels more comfortable. The playlist has, more or less, a pattern as the DJ must’ve intended it—but the pair are too immersed to notice.

They keep dancing to the tune until there’s only a few inches of space between them, practically grinding on each other's bodies on the dance floor as their rhythm syncs in with the rhythm of the sensual and upbeat music. Her hands slowly direct him to wrap his hands around her petite and well-toned body, smoothly sliding down through her curves until they reach her hips. Junghoon’s slow and gentle touch electrifies the woman, sending sparks within, especially on her more sensitive regions that makes her let out a soft moan amidst of cacophony of thunderous speakers and passionate cheers in the club, making herself bite her lower lip in to muffle whatever else unforeseen and obscene noise that was about to leave her mouth in front of the everyone else.

Their eyes meet as everything around them slows down. They can feel each of their own heartbeats, getting louder as the roaring speakers that surround the place. Despite their five-centimeter difference, Kaede’s sudden jolts of pleasure urge her to rest her arms on his shoulders. Junghoon leans in closer, allowing her to entangle them around his neck.

Looking into each other’s eyes from a few inches, no words come out from either of their mouths, knowing how vain it would be to mutter a sound in a sea of dissonance. Unlike him, there’s virtually no sense of hesitation from Kaede—only curiosity and longing for what’s in front of her while she breathes heavily in his sight. She closes her eyes as her lips touch his for a moment, before parting to anticipate his reaction. For a few seconds, Junghoon becomes paralyzed by her sudden advances, yet feels his senses stimulated at the same moment. Her flavored lipstick oddly tastes like maple syrup. Even as their lips have already parted, her intoxicating breath still lingers. He feels a sense of hunger for her. His senses and his impulses can no longer lie to him. Through every reaction he feels, his mind and body screams at him. He wants her, here and now.

This time, he leans closer to Kaede, letting out a moan as they slowly have a taste of each other’s mouths, exploring a gustatory spectrum of bitter, sweet, sour, salty, and savory, which they both relish while embracing under the neon lights, not giving a single care about everyone and everything else around them, despite their ears catching cheerful whistles beside them, considering how they take pleasure in this irresistible excitement with their soft lips smacking each other in a tight embrace. Their heated moment on the dance floor would last for a minute until the DJ plays another mix, though for them, it is only the beginning.

The restroom was their next destination. Sloppily locking lips and battling each other’s tongues inside a stall. Despite the insatiable sensation they’ve been savoring in the past five minutes, they decide to catch their breaths—leaving a string of saliva—as their lips part. And yet, he’s not done. He leans down on the woman, playfully kissing her neck and holding her waist with his right hand, triggering a rousing stimulus that reaches down her crotch. Acting more on her ecstatic urges, she kisses him while holding his hand and guiding it down her crotch. Juices were leaking through her pants, but he got her memo. Tempted to explore her pants, he digs two fingers deeper, though the fabric is not thin enough for him to traverse into her regions.

“You can reach inside,” she murmurs under her breath, tingling at his alluring touches.

He nods, before cautiously pulling down her pants until his hand finally reaches her clit, which he begins to rub from side to side, before massaging it for a moment just to check her reaction. “Ugh… Fuck, that’s it.”

His index and middle fingers finally do their trick by making swirling motions inside her cunt, tickling and stimulating the woman at the same time while he places her neck once again. She tries to muffle her moans by biting her lower lip, but he adds another trick by finally inserting a finger inside her entrance—slipping into her opening with ease thanks to it being coated in her juices. Her continuous positive murmurs encourage him to keep on going as the middle finger follows inside, igniting a louder moan from her. Now, both fingers slowly make their way deep inside her cunt in search of more stimulating zones. Much to his surprise, he’s already stumbled on most of them. Hence, he goes through his techniques in the next few minutes, not wanting to rush and dissatisfy Kaede while he tries on different rubs and strokes inside her in the same rhythm.

“Oppa… Nghh… It feels so—” she whines with pleasure, feeling the build-up down inside her nether regions while his fingers continue their work. “I’m–uhh… I–aah…. I’m close!”

More and more fluid leaks out of her opening.

Kaede can only close her eyes and let out another much louder moan in response, before delicately holding on his left shoulder and slowly resting her head on the right where she takes a breather from her orgasm, mumbling “Th–thank… Y-you…” which he hears well.

As Junghoon understands her movement, he looks at her with some concern. “You okay? I hope I didn’t read your gestures wrong.”

“You did great,” she wheezes. As a wide smile forms on her face, she looks at him with eyes full of surprise, curiosity, and hunger. “And by the way, I thought you weren’t all that intimidated by me, sunbae,” she teases, putting her hand on his blushing face.

“I can say the same thing about you,” he snickers, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you paid a waiter so we can have the room all by ourselves.”

“And for that, you’re welcome, sunbae,” she retorts sarcastically.

“Please, you don’t have to keep calling me that, Kaede-ssi,” he proposes, stroking her scruffy and sweaty hair. “We are way past formalities at this point, don’t you think?”

“Then stop using honorifics with me,” she counters him. “At least for tonight.”

“Well…” He thinks for a second, not wanting to disappoint the muse.

“Does Kae-chan sound good to you?”

“Of course, oppa,” she answers with glee, with her heavy breathing slowly subsiding. “Now, why don’t we head somewhere else? Somewhere where no else can bother us.”

= = =

Junghoon expected they would take a taxi or a bus ride to their next destination, but much to his surprise, Kaede’s apartment was only a three minute walk from the club. Setting foot on her doorstep, he notices that her place is the perfect balance of messy and clean, oddly enough. Still, he didn’t have enough time to look into this whole abode, because at the moment he takes his shoes off—his lips are met by Kaede’s once again. He holds on to her waist, pulling her closer so he can deepen the kiss in a more comfortable position.

“You done checking out my place?” she murmurs in-between kisses, slipping under his shirt and feeling his sweating chest. “How about you check something else instead.”

“I wouldn't want anything more,” he hisses, before latching his lips onto hers once more, with his hands resuming their exploration of her physique from her breasts to her waist.

Carrying the woman with his toned arms, they reach her bed. Leaving each other kisses on each other’s lips and neck, they start undressing each other’s tops, allowing them to access more zones to explore and pleasure.

“It’s my turn now, oppa,” she pushes him on the edge of the bed, making him sit down. Seeing her seductive smile, Junghoon anticipates her move, allowing her to zip down his pants and revealing his erect cock. Her eyes can only widen at his girth and length, while her mouth slowly drools. But despite this intimidating sight, she is not gonna back off so easily. With her tongue, she starts to leave a few licks around his cock before proceeding to his balls, sending tingles across the man’s brain and even making him moan, like how he made her. After her ticklish teases, Kaede finally takes in his member inside her small mouth without any word, surprising him. In her determined mind and excited body, it is a dare she is willing to take—considering how she wants for both him and herself to have a good time tonight. Within a short moment, she’s able to take half of his thick shaft as it enters her mouth, pushing the limits of her jaw by opening it as wide as she can.

He keeps his hands gripped on her hair while he thrusts his own member in and out of her mouth. Yet, despite this position, he knows that she’s in control. Feeling her tongue slithering on his cock with every thrust only intensifies the pleasure he’s already feeling. For more than ten minutes, Kaede continues her routine before, eventually, Junghoon’s stimulation begins to overload his senses. She finally returns the favor to him with how he serviced her in the bathroom earlier. “Fuck, Kae—” he groans loudly. “I’m gonna…”

Although he tries to pull out as far as he can, Kaede keeps her mouth open in front of his tip with her hand gripping on his legs, anticipating what comes next. A stream of semen blasts out of his shaft, entering straight through her mouth. He looks at her swallowing her catch, which makes him scratch his head just as a chortle leaves his mouth.

“You just took it all in?” He asks the woman out of concern and disbelief, comforting her with a caress on her back while she coughs and catches her breath.

“Most of it,” she clarifies with a smile. She takes another look down his flaccid, yet still leaking cock. “I thought I could, but they just kept on dripping, oppa.”

He laughs at her honest remark before pecking her on the lips, not caring about the fact that his seed is on her mouth. “It’s fine. You didn’t have to… You did good, Kaede-chan. Thank you.”

As she couldn’t resist his bold gesture, and his mouth, Kaede leans in to extend and deepen their kiss once, resuming their heated makeout neither of their excited spirits want to end. This time, she assists him in helping take off her own remaining garments, unhooking her bra from the back while she takes off her panties and carelessly throws it into the floor, revealing her perky breasts. But as he lays her down on the bed, a serious thought pops up in his mind, making him ignore his now enlarged cock and follow his sense of reasoning before they can proceed with their next exercise.

“Do you have a condom?” He finally speaks about his concern.

“I–umm…” Her face starts to redden, alerting himself to take more initiative.

“If you don’t, I can just buy outside. I’m sure—”

“No, no!” she exclaims, much to his surprise, before lowering down her tone into a shyer one. “You can find a box inside the nightstand.”

Complying with her direction, Junghoon walks to the nightstand and opens it, finding a box of premium condoms, all of which are still unopened, something he finds odd due to how many it is. At the same moment, his eyes also spot some rather interesting toys next to the box, and a lube. Kaede notices him taking a little longer, though she doesn’t panic.

“I've been doing things by myself,” she tells him with the same soft-spoken intonation. “Things can get lonely here sometimes, you know.”

But truth be told, making assumptions about his old friend and partner for the night is the last thing he wants to do. He’s here because he wants to make her feel good. Both of them want to. Slowly and steadily, he opens a sachet and wraps the condom around his still erect member while she watches on from the bed surrounded by her two pillows.

“It's okay,” he smiles, giving off a comforting look to Kaede. “I don't judge. I get it.”

Kneeling on the bed, he pounces on her on the bed as she latches her lips onto his, resuming the flames of their passion. Slowly but surely, he positions her on the bed while she nudges a pillow on her rear end, their naked bodies now facing each other.

“Take it easy,” she coos as her blush remains, making Junghoon slow down from his more aroused state. He’s starting to notice her facial expression. She’s a bit nervous.

“Oh… It is your first time?” he tries to make sure.

She slowly nods, before adding, “I mean, it’s my first with someone I’m not dating... It’s been a while since I’ve done… This…” She lets out a sigh. “Is that, um, okay you, oppa?”

“Of course, Kae-chan,” he reassures her with a kiss. He doesn’t know why, but hearing such a revelation makes him feel a teeny-tiny bit of weight on his shoulders. Based on her words just now, he knows she’s done it before. “I’ll do it slowly, okay?”

She nods again, forming a dampened smile, as he positions his shaft into her entrance. With his head reaching the opening, he slides in his shaft ‘till the first half of his length reaches her vagina. Kaede cannot help herself but purr, slowly welcoming his member, though the fact that’s only halfway inside also makes her hold on to both his shoulders. He gives a few more thrusts as the rest of his cock reaches deeper inside her. Junghoon’s groans mirror the woman’s muffled moans, yet they sound music to her ears—eventually letting go as she opens her mouth and lets out rising pitched cries. Their noises compose a cacophony that echoes through the walls of the room. Their composition can reach the heavens and intensify the flames of hell. Such sounds feel like music to both their ears, similar to the mixes they were dancing to a while ago. Minutes appear like hours, but neither of their brains are in the state to count or process anything but their ongoing stimulating movement.

“Oppa!” she whines with overwhelming pleasure, already squirting from her cunt, while he can feel his cock reaching its second limit despite continuing his pumps on top of her. “Nggnhhh… Imma… Ugh… I’m close.”

Junghoon continues kissing her neck, appearing as if he’s devouring her like a vampire in order to speed up his climax, catching up to Kaede’s within seconds while they moan in each other’s mouths until the inevitable happens. She comes first; he busts his semen inside the condom milliseconds later, yet for all intents and purposes, they came at the same time. He lies down next to her, hearing each other panting amidst the silence.

They take a breather for a few minutes, lying still on the bed. He looks at Kaede, curious about whatever he just witnessed inside her nightstand earlier. That being said, he’s not being judgmental, though curiosity has already gotten to him. “Now that we’re done…”

She slowly gets up; a suggestive smile forms on her lips. “Who says we're done, oppa?”

Her daring look only encourages him with a realization. He didn’t fail to satisfy Kaede. And another, being intimidated by her isn’t such a bad thing. In fact, he’s into this side of her. “Only you can, that’s for sure.”

Turned on by Kaede’s nerves, the man leaves more kisses on her neck, before reaching down to her ears, armpits, and thighs. “Fuck, this feels so good,” she murmurs. Despite being stimulated by the slow and gentle marks he’s making, Kaede stops him and stares at Junghoon for a moment, as an idea has been brought to her mind.

“One thing, before we keep going,” she appeals with her recognizable reserved voice.

He halts his actions, attentive to her next words. “Yes, Kae-chan?”

Aside from blushing cheeks, a sheepish smile forms on her face. “Can I call you daddy?”

“Huh?” His eyes widen at her question, yet he immediately feels a jolt down on his shaft, slowly erecting once more at the woman’s words. “Well, I guess I'm not against it. Sure.”

He takes a second packet from the box, opening it while he sees Kaede touching herself in anticipation for their second round. Once he puts on the condom, the woman lunges at Junghoon, softly pushing him into the wall nearest to the bed. “Where are we goi—”

She shushes him with a finger to his lips, before turning around and facing the wall. “Let’s do it here.”

Getting her suggestion, Junghoon lets out a weak laugh, before leaving loving pecks on her neck. Tickled by his gestures, Kaede giggles and rests her arms on the wall with her rear end bending for him, taking a deep breath. Compared to last time, his cock enters her entrance with a little more ease, though he can still feel its tightness. He begins his thrusts deeper inside her chambers at a steady pace, hitting the same stimulating spots from this position. Despite his cock still only halfway like last time, she can already feel him stretching her walls all over again, and she cannot get enough of it the second time.

“Hngghh… Daddy,” she gasps, tightening her grip around him. “You’re so fucking big!”

“You’re still…” he groans, finally entering the rest of his length deeper inside her, with his hand holding on to her hip. “So… Fuck…ing… Tight… Kae-chan!”

“Hayaku,” she murmurs on the top of her breath. Though he has some clue of what she means, she adds “Faster!” for him to understand her on-the-spot request.

He quickens his pace. She stiffens her arms, tightening her fingers on the wall.

“Would you like it… If I…do this…baby?” he murmurs. His hands climb their all the way up to her breasts, Feeling them bounce, he uses his fingers around both her nipples.

“Fuck!” she gasps at his sudden maneuver. “Yes, daddy…just keep…doing it! Ngghhh…”

Enveloping each with both his palms, he kneads her knockers in a circular and an up and down motion. Surges of pleasure run through her mind, making her tilt her head backwards as her tongue sticks out while she keeps moaning during his robust thrusts. With his hands at work, Junghoon licks her nape, tasting her dripping sweat like nectar.

While she wails in gratification, he slows down his pumps so he can lean into her ear. “Imagine if we’re doing this eye to eye, Kaede-chan.”

“Hnggghhh… Fuck!” His words strike a nerve. “You–ugh–would like that wouldn’t you?”

“You have no idea,” he chuckles. In her mind, she wants it too.

“I’m close!” she wails after a few minutes.

Junghoon doesn’t say anything, but her confession makes him smile. “Let it out, baby.”

And with a few more thrusts, Kaede finally reaches her second orgasm.

Taking their time to breathe, he holds her arms, keeping her from falling straight down to the floor.

“You didn’t come, did you?” she mumbles.

“I was… Close. But it’s fine.”

“Mianhae, I didn’t wait.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“Damn right. You were the one whispering all those stuff to me.”

“Those worked for you?” he scratches his head.

“Shut up,” she chuckles before pulling him closer to her. She trails her fingers up to his toned abs and chest. “How about we go for another one, hmm? Now, you lead the way.”

In their third round, Junghoon and Kaede face each other once again and in a burst of strength from his arms, he lifts the woman off the floor—triggering a squeal of surprise and excitement from her. With his hands holding onto her hips and her arms wrapping around his neck, their lips hungrily touch once more, still addicted to each other’s taste and scent. This time, her tongue invades his mouth, which he welcomes, allowing his to be dominated. Junghoon breaks their session after a minute to tell her he’ll be putting it in once more. With her back now comfortably reclined on the wall and him steadying his arms, she wraps her leg around his back. Their eyes lock, filled with thirst for each other.

“Hopefully, the third time’s a charm,” he quips. She bites her lower lip, suppressing her excitement with him now in control.

Junghoon begins motioning his cock inside her cunt, thrusting it in and out, triggering another of her erogenous zones. He alternates in kissing each of her plump and sweaty breasts, adding to the layers of pleasure that she’s feeling now while he rams her with a slightly faster pace and more robust pumps—inevitably flexing the muscles of his arms for Kaede to witness, despite her field of vision shaking and her whole body trembling.

“More, daddy,” she begs him with a peck to his cheek. “I want more…of your… Tricks.”

He cannot help but grin as he nods before sucking one of her tits in his mouth, licking every ounce of sweat that drips like maple syrup, amplifying the volume of her moans and cries while riding his member in carnal bliss. “Nngghh… Yabai… More, ugh!”

Another idea spirals into his lustful brain, making his hands squeeze both her soft butt cheeks, triggering another spot that makes her gasp and squeal next to his ear. “Such a good girl,” he whispers right back to her ear, continuing his teases. “Taking it so well.”

“Daddy! I’m–I’m…” she screams, with her eyes rolling on the back of her head while her tongue sticks out. Witnessing such a reaction only allows his cock to remain erect, if not grow a little longer than it already is, while he continues to plow the woman to his limit. While her ahegao still persists, Junghoon latches his lips on her tongue, surprising her in a satisfying manner. They kiss more sloppily, with their tongues dancing in rhythm, complementing the sound of their skins slapping together amidst their primal noises.

Kaede parts her lips to catch her breath, tightening her grip around his back. As if that's not enough, her fingernails dig through his skin just to snap herself out of her own state of overstimulation and tell him, “I’m close!”

“Me… Too!” he groans loudly in response, maintaining his rhythm despite feeling his muscles tire out and the slow aching yet stimulating sensation he’s feeling on his back. “Toge…ther, let’s…”

With a few more powered thrusts, the man finally explodes his load inside the condom. With the last ounce of his strength, he walks back to the bed and places down his worn out partner in the middle. They both lie once again, and much longer this time for five minutes of huffing and puffing, laughing, and exchanging more quips to one another.

“Fuck…” she pants, lightly tapping his upper abs beside her. “That was intense, daddy.”

“Language, dear,” he shoots back, making his voice even deeper and commanding.

“Oppa!” She lets out a burst of laughter, playfully smacking his shoulder. “You don’t have to take it that far.”

“I’m kidding, but it was really wild,” he chuckles, breathing a little heavier than her. He fixes her disheveled hair, moving them to the side to see her face. “You did well, baby.”

His words made her giggle, still enchanted by his charm of going along with her request. She leans closer to give him a simple yet comforting kiss then lies on his shoulder to rest next to him, which he welcomes–even helping her lie more comfortably by adjusting his posture. Her hand slowly slides down to his crotch in hopes of teasing him, but her eyes and smile can only widen in surprise when she feels his shaft up and running again.

“How is that even possible?” she exclaims.

He laughs in disbelief. “Well, you made it happen, I guess.”

Temptation drives her into wrapping her hand around his cock and slowly making an up and down motion, reinvigorating his lust and drive within seconds. His moan says it all.

“You up for an encore, oppa?” she winks at him.

“Lead the way, baby,” he reciprocates her enticement.

Despite both parties initially hoping for a warm and comforting spooning session due to their recovering bodies, it turns out they still have more than enough drive and vigor to get back up. Kaede straddles Junghoon's hips and just like that, their lustful passion is reignited the second their lips touch for the nth time. In fact, they’re still only halfway through the night, one that's about to be filled with more noises of pleasure. One that will involve more than several used condoms being tossed in the trash bin every few minutes. While this night may not have been one of Junghoon's ideas of relaxation, there's no doubt in his mind that this refreshing experience is a worthy addition.

= = =

9:50 AM. No alarm wakes her up, just her circadian rhythm. Thank God it’s Saturday.

Kaede opens her eyes, wrapped up in her blanket. It’s a miracle that she’s not feeling any headache from her hangover, although her body is screaming at her in the form of a few visible hickeys and sores felt from her neck to toe. Junghoon is nowhere to be found—at least not in the same room. She finds some of her toys, a vibrator, a butt plug, and a pair of nipple suckers, on top of the nightstand, letting out a chortle as they’re well organized compared to the last time they’ve used them. He’s a quick learner, she contemplates.

After dressing up in a new set of casual clothes, the woman opens the door, immediately catching the scent of something boiled, familiar, and delectable. She finds Junghoon in his attire last night, yet he looks clean and tidy, having used the bathroom about an hour earlier. He’s at the kitchen counter, putting the finishing touches of garnish on two large steaming bowls of ramen, whose black soup and ingredients remind the woman of her native dish back home. Near the sink, she sees her cooking pan and pot, alongside a few plates and utensils, have just been washed, including the cutting board that she hasn’t used in two weeks. As he places the bowls on the dining table, her eyes notice a large platter of assorted Japanese appetizers—which includes agedashi tofu, miso eggplant, shumai, and pork gyoza—along with a bowl of fresh, well cut fruits on a smaller platter. Although she knows what her sunbae does for a living, she's still amazed by his decorum, even daydreaming as if they’re now staying at a bed and breakfast, and she just happened to spend the whole night with the hunk, tall chef, who is now preparing breakfast.

“You’re up!” Junghoon greets her with a wave. “I hope you don't mind me using your kitchen. And just so you know, I didn't steal anything. Just borrowed your utensils.”

She walks to him, still looking at the cuisine in wonder. “No it's just—this is too much. But how did you get these ingredients? I haven’t bought groceries in a week.”

“Oh, I had them delivered from a nearby grocery, since I kinda did not wanna get locked in,” he snickers. “Or got the chance to ask you what your door pin is, though that’s fine.”

Her gaze at the table remains in spectacle, though Junghoon reads it as consternation.

“Did I cook too much?” he tries to clarify. “Or do you prefer takeout, ‘cause I can also—”

“No, no!” she panics, although she calms herself down to avoid any misunderstandings. “Don't. I didn’t say it's a bad thing. I've never cooked for myself in a long time, so seeing these on the table is just so—Wow… Thank you, sunbae. I can pay you the ingredients—”

“Please. No need for that,” he interrupts her politely. “It’s the least I can do, Kaede-ssi.”

They eat breakfast over the table. Minutes past, Junghoon can only hear the humming and cheerful chewings of the woman. “Mmm! This is something else, oppa. It’s hard to believe any of these ingredients are store-bought.”

“Thanks,” he answers, but something else is on his mind. And his silence alerts her.

“Come on now, oppa,” she initiates. “Your face is already obvious. Spit it out.”

“I don't mean to ask anything about earlier… but about those toys,” he still stops, hoping that she won’t be offended.

“You're still curious about my sex life?” She places down her renge spoon and puts her elbow on the table, raising an eyebrow at him with a half-suppressed smile. “Isn’t last night enough for you? Wait, did you not enjoy using them?”

“No, no, it’s not that! Of course, I enjoyed them.” he retorts. “That’s not what I want to ask. I’m just wondering how your friends see your dating life, considering how you said you started going to the nightclub without them at times. If that's okay with you, at least. You don't have to answer if it's uncomfortable for you.”

Kaede sighs. She’s given much thought to it herself as well, considering her hesitations from the other night. Silence ensues in the room, though she breaks it once she finally makes up her mind. “Maybe, it has stuck with me since college, but umm, you know I was roommates with Yubin-ah. You remember her, right?”

“Yeah,” he nods, trying to process where her point is heading. “Of course.”

“She’s done a lot of wild stuff with your friend back then, Yeonghwan. When they were dating and all that… I know that bringing them up may be sudden, that was maybe the first time I felt that I was envious and insecure.”

Concern arises in his eyes, yet her words somewhat resonate with him. “Of what?”

She stares into the distance, reminiscing her regrets. “Of not having that kind of experience… That feeling. Yet I didn’t get the chance until I was in my later years.”

He remembers her words from last night. Her desire to be touched, like most women, hindered by a lot of people’s surface-level perceptions and shallow expectations of her. To some degree, Junghoon himself understands how she feels, based on how others had viewed both of them in the past. Despite those things happening a long time ago, certain unpleasant memories and some hesitations still lingered within them from time to time.

“And of course, my, umm, first time with my own ex wasn't the best,” she turns to him. “But last night, you kinda made me forget that… It's like that never even happened.”

He didn’t expect those words from her. “Really now? I honestly don’t know what to say… I'm glad. But–uhh, whoever you meet next, I hope they’ll treat you the same.”

She giggles at his remark. “I don't think that's even possible, oppa.”

“This must be a new thing for you, then…” he surmises. “Though from someone who’s new, you still did well. Actually, I think well’s an understatement.”

“Thanks,” she looks down with a smile, though another realization shifts her face into a sullen expression when she looks up to him. “Though I don’t know if I want to keep up this kind of routine with my colleagues. Not everyone’s like you, sunbae.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” he counters. “You get to meet someone better. And why would it matter to others if you keep going on one-night stands? That’s your choice.”

“Well, I got myself into this when I showed off to my friends at work. They would brag about their flings and wild relationships, so I make them think I get laid a lot of times. Whenever they stop by to hang out, I try to make things more... convincing. Maybe it’s just my insecurity getting the best of me, but I've also gotten used to it. I lied because I thought that my own life wasn’t good enough to be shared.”

“I…” He's at loss for words, simply astonished at the woman's tale. “Didn’t expect that. But it must be tough, pretending to be someone you’re not to your friends.”

She raises an eyebrow again, her lips forming a pout. “You're judging me, aren't you?”

“I'm not judging you!” he waves his hands. “It's just, I didn't expect you to open up.”

“But your face makes it look like you have something to say about my life choices.”

“Not much… I just think that it doesn't matter how often you sleep around with anyone. And who cares if you have a lot of toys? If they really are your friends, then they would respect, forgive, and understand that you’re actually not that kind of a person. If not… Then they’re not worthy of being your friends to begin with. Just my two cents.”

“Doesn't sound like just two cents. Don’t undersell yourself,” she quips.

He lets out a sardonic laugh. “I’m just saying… Live your life however you want, as long as you’re happy, Kaede. Besides, going to a nightclub does not have to mean you got to hook up with someone... You're just having fun on your own or with your friends, and there's nothing wrong about that.”

She tilts her head as a somber smile gleams on her face. His words somehow put her at ease. “You know, with words like that, how come you still don't have a girlfriend now?”

“Because saying things like that will bore the heck out of them,” he admits. “I didn't say those things to flirt with you. I’m just saying my piece to you as a friend.”

“I know, but some gals dig that type, you know? It's like when someone's disciplining them when they're being a bad—”

"Again with the dad kink thing," he whines, yet can’t help but laugh at her frankness.

“I'm kidding!” she insists. “Well, half-kidding. And you still didn't answer my question.”

He scoffs at her attempt to change the subject back. “Again, I don't have the time—”

“That’s bullshit,” she goads. “Didn't you remember what I said about you?”

“Well, it's true though,” he simply tells her, his energized tone slightly dropping.

She senses something else. He looks discouraged. “Did someone hurt you..? You don’t have to tell me… But it seems like you have something you want to get off your chest.” She stops for a second, considering that she has gotten ahead of herself. “Unless, I’m misreading the situation.”

“You’re not, Kaede-yah…” he lightens her up. “And besides, since I asked you a personal question first, the least I can do is answer yours.” Even with his deep voice, he begins to crack as he continues to speak. “But... I–uh, I guess, I wasn't honest enough with my ex. In a way, you can say that I hurt her instead. Instead of appreciating whatever we had, I messed it up. I thought I wasn’t good enough… So I guess you're not the only one who fell into their own insecurity. Mine ruined a relationship.” He sighs, doing his best to hide his more vulnerable side from his hoobae, but she’s already seen it through his clenched fists and heard the slight quivers in his voice.

Standing up from her seat, Kaede walks to him with her arms opened, enveloping him in a warm embrace. Such an action raises his heartbeat, reciprocating her heartfelt gesture, yet he feels more than comforted.

“I hope you find someone you will love," she murmurs next to his ear. “Once you sort out whatever has been keeping you from doing so, that is. You deserve to love and be loved like anyone else, oppa.”

“And I hope you find someone who’s willing to open their door to you, and love you in all your cute, wild, sexy, and funny sides. Someone who loves you for who you are," he requites. “I'm sure someone will, Kaede.”

Their passionate night wasn’t a romantic one, but they know and feel that it doesn’t have to be meaningless either. They’re friends who reunited after a few years, and that’s more than enough for them to reconnect again. Not the closest, but good friends nevertheless.

She chuckles, before letting out a sigh of relief. No tears came out from either of them, but their hearts felt at ease from each other’s embrace. Their bodies finally part after a few seconds. Kaede looks at him with a hopeful smile. “I didn’t know one-night stands can be emotional afterwards.”

She heads back to her seat. “Me too,” Junghoon concurs. “And it’s my first time too…”

“Geojitmal,” she scoffs with a teasing smile. “Last night was, no, were your first times?”

“I wasn’t finished,” he frowns for a moment. Kaede smirks in return. “I mean this was also my first time having an emotional one-night stand. At least in the morning after.”

“Whatever,” she chortles. “Come on now, we better finish up all this food you’ve cooked. And it sucks because this will be the only time I have anything better on my table that is not delivered outside.”

“You better start cooking on your own then,” he teases. “Unless you want to come visit our restaurant some other time, you’ll get the same, if not better, quality of food for a decent price.”

“Way to go promoting your workplace,” she teases, jabbing him lightly on the shoulder. “But of course, sunbae! Just tell me the name and address. I may even bring my friends there for lunch or dinner.”

After a moment of laughter and him sharing with Kaede the name of the restaurant he’s working at, Junghoon feels a buzzing from his phone on the table before he can pick up his spoon and chopsticks. The latest messages on his buddies’ group chat arise. While Kaede takes another healthy slurp of her ramen, he reads their ongoing exchanges.

[Kangmin]: What happened to your date? Yel, was it?

[Insoo]: The busty blonde? She and her friends just ditched us right as we outside.

[Honggi]: Or maybe she already lost interest in you because she heard you call her that.

[Insoo]: Whatever. That was her loss! I bet that's not even her real name.

[Honggi]: I told you we should've gone after someone else Like that short-haired one!

[Insoo]: As if any of us had the chance! That woman was insane and untouchable on the dance floor! She definitely has high standards.

[Kangmin]: Come on, guys. Don’t beat yourselves up.

[Honggi]: Coming from the one who got someone's number.

{I’m sure there’s always gonna be another night for y’all.}

[Honggi]: Junghoon-ah!We’re so sorry for leaving early, man. Insoo got us leaving ‘cause he thought he rizzed someone up.

[Insoo]: Don’t listen to him, man. It was Honggi’s idea. I actually thought of you before he went all down bad on some redhead. [Honggi]: Yah! I only went along with you 'cause she was friends with Yel. You're the one who's down bad.

{Gwenchana, guys ㅎㅎㅎ I’m just glad you guys got home safely.}

[Kangmin]: How ‘bout you, Jung-ah? Were you still in the club when we left?

{I did! I stayed there for a little while.} {I actually had a good time.} {I owe you guys one.}

Junghoon takes a glance at Kaede. She's also on her phone, scrolling through her social reels with a wide grin.

[Insoo]: See? Now, what did we tell you?

[Kangmin]: That’s great to hear, man! Anything interesting happened?

{Oh, nothing much.} {Well, actually, it was interesting.}

She looks at his face with curiosity, after seeing him chuckle while texting his friends. “Are those your friends right now?”

[Insoo]: Really? Come on, dude, spill those beans. [Honggi]: You’re killing us with this wait! [Insoo]: What happened to you?!

“They are,” he nods, unable to hide his smile. “And I gotta say, I guess I was kind of the 'lucky one' among us last night.”

[Kangmin]: Looks like we have a true winner after all! 🤝

[Honggi]: Don’t leave us hanging, man! ㅠㅠㅠ

“Oh yeah?” she giggles, before taking a piece of pork gyoza into her mouth with a look of curiosity at his remark. “How so?”

{Guys, just chill out! ㅋㅋㅋ} {I met up with an old friend.}

= = =

a/n: so, you finally made it through the end lol. you've either read the whole thing or skipped here. either way, thank you for reading my first fic. this definitely ended up a lot longer than I intended it to be, but it's here. I'll definitely do my best to improve my writing. have a nice day!

[zepskies]

Headcanon: Flirting (And Jealousy)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader, Russell Shaw x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @lacilou. And surprise! For the first time, I'm trying out adding Russell Shaw to the lineup because I thought he'd be an interesting addition for this prompt. 💜

Prompt: How would Dean, Ben & Beau react to either other men flirting with us or them obliviously/cluelessly letting other women flirt with them? And how we would react to them -- like how they'd make it up to us, their excuses, etc.

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would react to someone flirting with you. (And others flirting with them.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, oblivious flirting, unwanted advances, jealousy, some toxic masculinity (you know Ben 🙄), but ultimately lots of fluff, and some spice too.~

Dean Winchester

Dean isn't one to get jealous...at first.

He knows you're hot as hell. He pretty much expects guys to try and shoot their shot.

Plus, he's secure enough in his relationship with you to know you wouldn't consciously entertain someone who's flirting with you.

He also knows you're strong enough to take care of yourself, even with a persistent asshole.

However.

The second a man gets into your face or tries to put his hands on you, Dean's stepping in -- either to twist the man's arm nearly out of its socket, or deliver a swift punch between the eyes, or his personal favorite, grabbing the back of the guy's neck and slamming his face onto the counter.

Dean finds the sound of bone breaking against varnished wood, followed closely by the heavy tripping thud of a body to the floor, deeply satisfying.

You heave a sigh. Not because you're all that annoyed at Dean, but because you tried to warn the guy.

Now, Dean knows he used to be...well, a "ladies man," putting it mildly. He's improvised more panty-dropping one-liners than a Magic Mike stripper. His success rate is 9-and-10 (because there's always room for improvement).

He directs all that flirtatious, playful, sexual energy on you. He's fallen for you, committed to you, and once he makes a decision with his heart, Dean Winchester doesn't have an unfaithful bone in his body.

However.

He can't altogether stop women from flirting with him. Like at one of the many diners you, Sam, and Dean stop to eat at after a hunt.

"Let me know if you need anything else, okay?" the waitress says. She brushes her hand up his arm and squeezes his shoulder, giving Dean a too-bright smile that leaves nothing to the imagination (at least to you).

He smiles back at her. "Thanks, sweetheart."

It's like a reflex. He thinks he's being polite. He doesn't even follow the path of her hip-swaying walk with his eyes -- like he certainly would've before he met you.

You still stare at Dean incredulously. When the woman walks away, he smiles at you as if nothing happened. Sam wisely keeps to himself and sips his beer, hiding a smirk.

Dean notices the way your lips are pursed, bitchface activated. "What?" he asks.

You cross your arms. "Really?"

He frowns. "What's the matter?"

"Really. You need me to tell you not to let that woman eye-fucking you to put her hands all over you?" You shake your head. More dryly you add, "Right in front of me, too. I gotta give it to her, she's got brass balls."

Dean is bewildered, but then he replays the moment in his head and realizes that you're right. He kinda fucked up.

He sees the way you're getting all testy, and he has to chuckle.

"Okay. I'm sorry, sweetheart. My bad."

He reaches for your hand and manages to uncross your arms. You're stubborn in your irritation, but Dean is the king of persuasion, giving you teasing, flirty bedroom eyes and waggling brows as he pulls you towards him.

If you're still reluctant to soften, he adds, "Come on, don't be a sourpuss. Come 'ere."

Eventually he breaks you, making you laugh and hit his arm with no real force behind it.

Even Sam shakes his head, seeing how his brother manages to pacify you by sliding his arm around your shoulders across the booth. Dean leans in and kisses along your neck. He inhales your scent and hums in pleasure.

Sam clears his throat. He has to awkwardly look away.

"Gonna forgive me?" Dean asks, his lips moving against your skin. "Though I gotta admit, I kinda like it when you're jealous. All growly and fiesty. Got myself a little tiger."

You roll your eyes, but your lips tug at a smile. Your face warms in a blush, especially as his hand wanders under your jacket and teasingly up your side.

You slip your fingers into his hair, making sure to give a sharp little tug on it for good measure. He just laughs.

Oh, you'll forgive him, but maybe you'll make him do a little more penance when you all get back home.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a jealous man from the onset when a man flirts with you.

His lips purse, his jaw clicks, and he keeps a firm eye on the situation. He doesn't like it.

But to his credit, he tries not to act on it right away, letting you handle it the way you want to.

However, like Dean, the moment someone gets into your personal space or tries to touch you, he's pulling out some Sheriff moves.

If the man grabs at you, Beau's got his arm twisted behind his back so fast, he can almost feel ligaments popping. Beau gives a calm, but firm warning before sending the guy on his way. (He'd like to do more, but the department frowns on excessive violence.)

Maybe part of you gets annoyed at the show of jealousy, but a larger part of you can't help but be turned on when he protects you. You know it's not because he thinks you need protecting, but because he wants to.

"Can't help it, darlin'," he's said. "It's just how I was raised."

But you're the one that bristles when Danielle, a PTA mom at Emily's school, flirts with him. She laughs at his corny jokes with her white teeth and her perfectly layered and coiffed blonde hair.

She even gives him an extra cookie from her offering at the school's bake sale. (She knows what most of this town knows -- that the way to the Sheriff's heart is all too often through his stomach.)

Beau just nods along, smiling polite with that charming grin of his, totally oblivious while he eats. The last straw for you is when she wipes a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

Your mouth falls open in shock. "Are you shitting me?"

You accidentally say it out loud, earning not only your boyfriend's surprised look, but Danielle's guilty one as well. (And some of the kids.)

Blushing in embarrassment, you pivot on your heel and start packing up your supplies for the bake sale.

That's when Beau realizes that he fucked up.

He politely excuses himself from Danielle and goes to help you (wiping the crumbs off his face and licking chocolate off his thumb). He can tell you're feeling more than a little icy towards him, but he tries to make up for it by doing all the heavy lifting, bringing back things to the car, and helping you with the bags before he calls Emily over.

It's a long car ride home, awkward and tense. Emily can tell something's off between you and her dad, but when she asks about it, you claim nothing's wrong.

Beau knows better.

He waits until the three of you get home to the apartment you share with him, and after putting the bake sale stuff away, he follows you into the bedroom.

"Sweetheart--"

"What the hell was that, Beau?" You come in hot with it, and Beau is quick to try and ease your tension with an apology.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Couldn't you see that she was eyeing you like a honey-glazed ham?"

Beau's lips twitch at a grin, but you're not amused. You cross your arms and give him a warning look. That's when he wises up.

"Okay, you're right. I'm sorry." He chances taking a few slow steps towards you, raising his brows and keeping his hands up in surrender.

You eye him narrowly, but you let him get close enough to slip his arms around you. He gathers you against his chest and presses a lingering kiss to your cheek.

"I mean it. Won't happen again," he promises. His hands mold to the curve of your waist and squeeze gently. His lips move, burning a sweet path along your jawline, your chin, over the apple of your cheeks, and finally your lips. You breathe into it, and you can't help but cling to the front of his buttoned-down shirt.

"Do me a favor," you say quietly between kisses. "Don't eat Danielle's cookies."

Beau smiles against your lips. "Don't you worry, darlin'. From now on, I'll tell her that I've got some good cookie at home."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, Ben doesn't fuck around.

...Well, in the sense that he can't tolerate another man even looking at you flirtatiously, or otherwise with any kind of intent.

Depending on the severity, at best, it'll have Ben shooting the man a stony look of warning.

At worst, it ruins the day -- namely with the sound of bone snapping and a man's sobbing howl of pain.

You try to get him to tone it down ("For God's sake, Ben. It's fine. Just relax."), but this is one thing he well and truly doesn't budge on.

Ben is possessive. Because you're his. His to touch, and his to protect.

In his mind, it's fucking simple.

Whenever you get irritated with this brutish, knuckle-dragging, caveman mentality, you try to remember why he does it.

It's indicative of how much he actually cares about you.

Because if he didn't, he wouldn't really give a shit if other men were flirting with you. (He'd just find another woman to try and charm back to his apartment.)

So you've learned how to try and finesse these situations so that Ben doesn't notice.

You've also stopped letting down men easy, proverbially cutting off their dick and balls with your words.

Because it's quite literally to save their dumbass life.

But when other women flirt with Ben, he takes it all with indulgent smiles, throwing in a wink and a sweetheart every now and then.

He doesn't blame them for flirting with him, checking him out. He's Soldier Boy, after all, and in his mind, it's not his fault they can't help themselves around him.

However, a smile and a wink is all that he allows himself.

If he truly cares about you (and though he doesn't often express it in words, he does), then the unfamiliar twinge of guilt stops him whenever he almost accepts a woman's alluring invitation--spoken or unspoken.

His mouth might spew arrogance and gilded lies, but his actions too often betray what he really feels.

And what he really feels can't be any more clear than when he goes after you, instead of indulging the woman who basically undressed him with her eyes, whispered sultry, sexy offerings in his ear, and invited him to go home with her.

Seeing you take off out the double doors of the club, Ben rolls his eyes. He brushes the woman off without a backwards glance, and follows you out into the night air. He grabs your hand before you can get far in your heels.

"What the hell's the matter now?" he asks dryly.

You turn on him with an incredulous look.

"That woman was practically sucking your neck, Ben!"

"All right, don't fucking overreact. You're getting hysterical," he says, before guiding you back into his arms.

"I'm not fucking hysterical, you ass!" You push against his chest, but he doesn't budge, nor does he let you go. This isn't a good area, and he doesn't want you out in these streets at this time of night without him at your side.

"Ben," you say sharply. You look up at him in irritation, but he just smirks and strokes your side with his thumb.

Yes, (in his mind) you're being a little difficult, but he thinks your jealousy is amusing, adorable, and kind of hot all at the same time.

Ben doesn't bother with saying anything more to convince you. He just slips a hand behind your neck and kisses you soundly.

He invades your mouth with his tongue and devours you, reminding you that you're the one he wants.

He waylays you with his strong hands framing your body against his, and with his sinful mouth, until you finally melt into his embrace.

He's chosen you countless time before, and he knows he'll keep choosing you, for as long as this lasts.

Russell Shaw

Russell always clocks the "situation" right away when a man starts to flirt with you.

He's not one to make a scene of it at first, depending on the time and place.

But he is quick to sidle up to your side, pointedly slip a hand along your waist, and greet you with a deceptive smile.

"Hey, sweetheart. Let's grab that table over there. 'S more comfortable than the bar."

He glances up at the man, sharpness hidden well behind his green eyes. Whether the guy picks up on it or not, Russell is making a mugshot in his mind -- and he never forgets a face.

You eye him knowingly, but you let him guide you away. He's kind of cute when he's jealous, and it doesn't take much to spark that well of protectiveness that lies in wait just under his skin.

Russell isn't easily fazed by most things, but one sure way to provoke his temper (and those rougher, darker shades of him that he tries his best not to show you) is for a man to push his luck with you.

It really wouldn't take much effort at all for the former soldier to have a man clutching his bloody, shattered nose, let alone to dump his broken body in front of the closest hospital. But somehow, Russell manages to curb those darker urges. (Again, don't tempt him.)

But when another woman flirts with him, you're the one who starts to have steam coming out of your ears.

Russell doesn't miss much. He recognizes the sultry inflection in the woman's words. He catches the subtle, sensuous gleam in her eyes when she rakes him up and down with them.

He also notes the moment you look over and realize what's happening.

Regardless if you're looking or not, he tries his best to stay distant, but polite, even as a warning twinge of "aww shit" runs up his spine.

He tries to play things off with an amiable smile and being purposefully oblivious.

Until the woman gets bold, slipping her hand over Russell's and up his arm a bit, before she withdraws, tilting her head with a sweet-as-pie smile.

Cue Russ's awkward laugh/clearing of the throat. Before he has time to fully pull away and just come out with the, Sorry, I actually have a girlfriend -- you return to his side and pointedly grab his hand.

"Come on, honey, we'll be late," you say, giving him a tense smile.

The aww shit feeling is back, but Russell just nods and falls into step with you.

When you two have enough privacy to hash it out, you let him have it.

"What the hell was that?!"

Russell can't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I tried to keep it classy, but that woman was persistent. Not that I blame her--"

"Oh, shut up." You roll your eyes (not that you really blame her either). Then you stare at your man in annoyance, crossing your arms. "I didn't see you trying all that hard to fend her off, huh, Romeo? If another man had touched me like that, you would've broken his fingers off, like a fucking caveman."

Russell's brows raise at the dig, but the way you're getting all testy is kind of cute (and also kinda hot).

"All right. You got me there," he says. He slips his arms around your waist and tries to soften you with a charming grin. "Come on, sweetheart. You know I'm not going anywhere."

"Do I?" you blurt out, before you have a chance to reign it back in.

Russell's contract jobs take him all over the country -- all over the world. Yes, he's on his way out, he claims. He wants to settle down with you, or so he says.

But you have no idea of knowing what he does when he's not with you.

All those days out on the road, crashing in skeevy motels, winding down at dive bars -- has he ever been tempted to "sample" the local fare? Has he ever...

Russell's amusement fades, sobering into a frown and a furrowing of his brows. He hums in disapproval. He doesn't like what he's seeing in your eyes: doubt, most of all.

"Hey," he says. It's a serious tone you don't often hear in his voice. He curls a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his.

"I'm gonna need you to listen to me, and listen good," he says. You frown at that, but he brushes his thumb across your cheek, a small, but tender caress. "You and me, we've got something good. I know what that means. So you can believe me when I say, I'm in this. I'm right here, even when I'm not here."

And he smiles at you. "That make sense?"

Slowly, you start to smile too. "Not really," you laugh.

But it does. You know what he's trying to say, and...you believe him. Your fingers curl in the front of his shirt.

Tentatively, you lean up and press your lips to his; just a sweet, slow meeting.

Russell cups your cheek and leans in for a deeper taste, a deeper conviction of every word he just said.

I love you, is what it really means, even if he's not able to say that just yet.

AN: 😮‍💨 Well, there we go! lol I love me a protective man. 💜 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons!

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[lohotine]

``Drunk? Not Me!``

□ Ie: What they're like when they're drunk □

▪︎ Multiple x GN! Reader ▪︎

Ft: Shadow Milk, Stardust, Black Sapphire

CW: Drunk (character), Stardust calls reader pretty but it's still GN, slight suggestive themes in Black Sapphire's, but still SFW.

-Lightly proofread

Shadow Milk

Okay. So realistically he's probably the quiet drunk that contemplates his life decisions, but I'm not trying to write someone having an existential crisis rn, so you can have the talkative one instead. That's probably better reading material anyway, right?

"Hey... 'm not even that drunk... just one kiss?" He shifts closer to you on the bed, hands snaking around your waist as your back is pushed against his chest.

"You told me not to let you kiss me because you'd be 'out drinking ambroisia with the other beasts'." You crossed your arms, not turning to face him. Was it petty? Perhaps...

To be fair; he also said he wouldn't drink that much, yet here he is, clinging to you like some lost child.

He whined and pressed his head into the crook of your neck. "Dumb mortals... Can't even taste ambrosia without dying.. so stupid."

You sighed. He really is such a loser sometimes.

Suddenly, he would perk up and place his chin on your shoulder. "Go get me water."

Rude.

"What happened to please and thank you?"

"Go get me water. Thank you."

This guy...

You ended up getting his water anyway. (He'd only get more cranky without it.)

"Here's your water." You held it out for him, to which he accepted.

"Much better." He placed the cup down on a nearby table after drinking it, a small clink sounding in the room when he does so.

"You know," he began to say, watching you sit back down on the bed, "it was pretty fun. Mystic Flour kept swearing, and Eternal Sugar passed out halfway through." He would grin at the thought. "Lightweights! Am I right?"

You nodded half-mindedly before he laid his head in your lap, closing his eyes.

It was odd, to say the least. Usually, he isn't one to initiate moments like these... being as emotionally stubborn as he is.

You'd gently run your fingers through his hair. "I'm glad you had fun," you'd say.

The both of you would remain there for a while, a silence overcoming you both. It was nice. In that moment, words weren't needed.

He then slowly opened his eyes, just gazing at you softly. He pushed himself off of your lap and gently cupped your face with his hands. "I want you to kiss me. Why won't you kiss me?" He whined once more.

"Because you were drinking ambrosia. You know, you could have just drank regular alcohol..." you mumbled, pushing his face away from yours.

He frowned at the statement. "You're so mean t'me... you know that? Burning Spice would never let me hear the end of it. Do you know how embarrassing it would be for me to drink regular wine?"

Of course that's what he's worried about.

You begin to coat his face in feathery light kisses. One here, one there. Just to hopefully get him to shut up. "Better?"

You don't miss how his gaze falls elsewhere. Or how his breath hitches slightly when you pull away. "No," he mumbles.

Liar...

Stardust

Very much a lightweight... but at least he's happy, right? He's legit so in love with you- I kinda headcanon that he makes bird noises when he's happy because his other form looks kind of like a bird- sorry, am I being weird?

"You're so pretty..." he would murmer against your ear, his stary cape swaying before wrapping itself around the both of you.

You're sure he was during it subconsciously, and it would be nice... if it weren't for the fact that he runs so cold.

"Stardust, you're freezing..."

He gives a small hum in a response, then a small sorry that's barely audible. He rests his head on your shoulder, and you can't resist the small smile that appears on your face.

Black Sapphire

You gently scratch the bottom of his chin, earning a coo from him.

"I love you," he'd say mindlessly. "do you love me too?"

The question makes you chuckle. "Of course..."

Stardust would gently tilt your chin up with his index finger. "I wanna hear you say it.."

You intertwined your pinky with his; then your entire hand, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You can still taste the feint residue of wine on them before pulling away.

"I love you," you'd say.

He just continues staring into your eyes, almost breathless. Your eyes seemed as though they held the entire universe in them. (Oh dear... was that too cheesy of him?)

(It was true though. At least to him.)

"I love you too..." he repeated once more. Stardust wasn't sure how many times he'd repeat that exact sentence throughout the night...

Though rest assured, him saying it in abundance doesn't make it any less true.

Tell me this man can't keep his hands off of you. He's legit so down bad. (SIMP) It's okay, me too <333

Your fingers worked to slowly remove his tie, his wings fluttering behind him at the action.

It was cute, really. How you could tell exactly what he was thinking because of them.

"Your hands always feel so good.." he'd mumble mindlessly.

"Mmmm, is that so?"

He presses a kiss to your temple, giving a small hum in response. "You should've been there..." his kisses began to trail down your neck. "-missed you."

You eye him.

"Well, someone had to stay sober to take care of you. You're such a sloppy drunk, you know..."

You could feel his grin against your neck. "I can't help it when 'm with you." One of his hands moved to grab your chin, adjusting your head so he had a better view of your neck.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" You ask acusingly.

"Just giving my significant other some well-deserved love for taking such good care of me," he'd coo. The statement earned a glare from you.

"I don't think so. Not when you're this drunk." Seriously, where was his shame? He was normally much more of a gentleman!

He released your chin shortly after that before staring at you with eyes that held very little thought behind them, though his grin remained. "Suit yourself."

He managed to behave himself for a total of seven seconds before folding once more.

"But don't you think it's a bit cruel to deprive me of any kisses? I work very hard, don't I?" He leaned in closer towards you, his nose brushing against yours.

"I suppose, but what does that have anything to do with me kissing you?"

He places his hands on your hips, sighing at the statement, "You're heartless, denying an intoxicated man of his pleasure... This'll keep me up until daybreak, you know."

You rolled your eyes. He was being dramatic again. His nagging would continue all night if you didn't give him what he wanted.

So, to much of your dismay, (but to much of his pleasure!) you ended up giving this needy man his kiss.

(He quickly stole another one from you as well, but you decided not to scold him for it.)

His wings flitted for the second time that night, and he smiled contently. "Sweet... I could get drunk off your lips instead."

"Yeah yeah," you'd mumble before finnally pulling him into bed. "Can we sleep now?"

He rested his chin on the top of your head. "I suppose..."

You closed your eyes and felt the fuzziness of sleep take over you pretty quickly. You'd never admit it to him, but you also ended up missing him quite a bit...

[honeytonedhottie]

decentering men and recentering urself⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💅🏽💓

the secret to decentering men and not having ur entire world revolving around them (bcuz it should be revolving around you, duh) is having a fulfilling life. it makes me ICK so bad when im watching a video or reading a post and im rly loving it, and then it'll find SOME way to make it revolve around men. like can we not?…💬🎀

WHY WE CENTER THE OPPOSITE SEX ;

a lot of people find themselves centering their lives around the opposite sex in an attempt to fill a void within themselves. they do it because they aren't happy with themselves or their lives, or maybe its learned behavior. whatever the reason is, its NOT hot.

some things that someone who centers men might think are "oh my life is so boring, maybe it would be spiced up if i got with a man" or "maybe it'll bring some excitement into my day" like EUGHHH. obviously the solution is to find ways to make our lives fulfilling but how do we do that? and how do we get to the root cause and squash this self sabotaging behavior?

SELF AWARENESS ;

if u have nothing going on for u, ofc ur gonna be energetically desperate and accepting anything and EVERYTHING. practice self awareness and try to get to the root cause of why u center men through things like shadow work, therapy, or just straight up having an honest conversation with urself cuz i swear it helps.

when you make the conscious effort to build ur dream life you'll notice that people that are on the same mindset as you will vibe with the REAL you. the need to fake/adjust urself to fit in with other people will dissipate because ur fitting into ur own standards and ur connections will be more meaningful because of it.

TAKE UR POWER BACK ;

no ones actions should ruin ur day or make u upset for more then a day (even less) cuz its YOUR world. 💕🍰

make time for YOU, doll. plan self care routines for urself every week. doing face masks, journalling, vision boarding, WHATEVER U LIKE TO DO. making time for urself reminds u that ur the main character of ur life so u dont have to settle for crumbs.

stop giving that power to someone else and dictate how u feel, NOT the actions of a significant other or the opposite sex or anybody. the reason why its important to make sure that ur the center of ur own life is so that you can be happy and fulfilled regardless of if there is a man or if there isnt a man present. so the objective is to decenter men -> and then put yourself at the center

GET A HOBBY ;

find something to make ur life fulfilling. pursue ur OWN interests and try out different hobbies if ur unsure of what ur interests are yet. cultivate ur world to the point where it GLEAMS with perfection and then do a little extra. build a life that u love so much that whether u get male attention or validation doesnt even matter cuz their opinions have little to no relevance 💀

challenge yourself: next time you catch yourself thinking, ‘would a guy like this?’ flip it and ask urself "hey, do i like this?" start checking with yourself first instead of checking with others.

MAKING THE DECISION TO DECENTER MEN ;

decentering men simply means that ur deciding to no longer think, feel, act, dress, or plan ur life around a man or for the validation of any man…💬🎀

relationships will actually get BETTER when u decenter the opposite sex. cuz ur not looking for someone to compete with and ur whole on ur own. this sets the stage for balance and mutual respect and THATS hot.

you can be in a relationship and still decenter men. decentering men simply means that you are the priority, not the relationship. how can we tell if we're decentering men or not? here are a few questions to help you know if u are ->

if i did not care about looking good to the opposite sex what would i actually like to wear?

if i did not get married, how could i create the best and most abundant life for myself?

what hobbies/interests do i have that dont involve being around men/have male attention as a component of it?

[gangplanksorenji]

Pulchritude

Pairing: ITZY’s Yeji x Male Reader

Word Count: 7,089

A/N: It's been a while Orenjideul! This wasn't planned to be on my draft schedule but planned at the same time LOL (pretty much quickly written). Also, thanks for @mintwithchoco for the beta-reading that made the insights about the fic!!

This was originally part of something I've been working on with and expanded it with such vague plot to probably spice things up. Enjoy reading!! <3

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“You’re crazy for this one, Chaewon.”

“It’s not my doing—” Chaewon retorts, circling her fingers onto the rim of her glass with such a distinctive smell of a concoction that piques you, distracting you a little from her words. “—this is just a part of a test.”

She drinks from her glass and darts her eyes towards you, laced with anticipation and that hint of doubt in you. You smirk with her given stare, feeling that she's getting ahead of herself with it and she’ll soon eat up her words. Extending your arm a little onto the head of the chair, you look at her with vanity and such a playful intent that intimidates her a little. “I’d say you being here is somewhat helpful by all means…”

“And why is that?” 

Her eyes never fail to intimidate you, those orbs glowing in anticipation as she doesn't break her sophisticated demeanor. You fix your posture and lean closer to her, elbows on the table and your hands subtly clasped, answering her. “So I could let you know that you’ll be embarrassed at the end of the day.”

Chaewon’s hubris wouldn’t let your words slide and make her believe you, a chortle audible within your ears as she shifted onto her usual phlegmatic disposition. “We’ll see about that but for now—” Her well-manicured nails click the champagne glass two times, before giving a sly smile of a faulty sincerity. “—you gotta do what you gotta do.”

It wouldn’t end in a usual Chaewon fashion unless her drink is empty, sipping the last few milliliters of that delectable concoction, then getting off on her seat with her last words of the night. “Text me when you’ve done it, then we'll meet tomorrow afternoon.”

Grabbing her designer bag then leaving towards the doors of such a high-class bar, you could just sense the air reeking defeat all over you, but you’ll prove her wrong. You’ll just thank yourself for getting rid of her condescending nature albeit it really fuels your aim for victory, so is the upbeat music the bar brings. 

You’ll make things work and take that triumphant ecstasy up to your name, with someone’s panties on the floor. 

“I guess we need the devil inside me to take over.” Of course you will, and you’ll do that just about right.

---

Maybe the myths are true: sometimes, the devil does unspeakable things and it’s only a matter of time before it unveils its real nature. Not exactly an excerpt, a quote or the sayings of the elderly but mostly your own common conscience that has its own intersections of roads you can’t fathom nor follow—deep inside, you’re on a leash and Chaewon’s words intoxicates you, and you’ll prove her wrong after this. 

“We’re going to have some fun tonight.”

“Oh, do you think we will?” You ask pretty playfully and audaciously, playing with her possible games. You barely know her aside from being that time where you’d constantly steal glances with her during and after Chaewon’s existence at the bar and subconsciously know you’d always come. At that moment, you know something’s disturbed within you and it’s in a good way—this is something that’s completely going to serve gratification, and you can sense how strong your gut feeling is.

“We will.” The girl inches herself closer towards you, your back pressed against the cold concrete as she pins you with her frame, fidgeting her fingers onto the hem of your shirt and then the penultimate, such dexterous fingers circling around your chest.

You feel her minty breath mixed with a hint of tequila brush against your skin as you raise her head, eyes in contact with yours—you know she’s proving something, even just with her words but those wouldn’t be enough.

“Care for an introduction?” Your hands fancy its way onto her waist, as you endearingly looked at those sharp, monolid eyes of hers rivaling that alluring stare. 

Her eyes dart between your face and onto your body, as her voice speaks up in a volume.“Yeji. You can call me Yeji.” 

Her voice invites you, and you’re captivated with her sultry tone and god, that stare of hers would make any man fall upon your own judgment but on your shoes, it would bear such a challenge. Even with such temptation handled pretty well, you can’t help but hint such an invitation under her spell—those eyes, her sultry voice, such a beautiful face and the promised treasure of them all, her impeccable figure.

You’d like to start on something fresh, induce such a new chapter that’s bound to end up in such an incredible fashion but you could only assume those things, yet.

Well, you won’t fight yourself over some idiotic retaliation between your temptations and let yourself be the judge of her capabilities and this doesn’t help when she’s just inches away from laying such a mark that will define one’s lust.

Looking straight to the abyssal void of her eyes, you’re enticed as you lift off her chin with your finger. “There you go, I love a woman with manners.” You hit her up with her own medicine: tempting.

“Who says anything about manners?” Even such chagrins or predicaments wouldn’t stop her, not unless you tell her so as the only thing you could feel are those luscious lips locked against yours. 

The sounds of such muscle creating vacuum of sounds and suctions overpowers the fading noise of the music the bar resonates—all you can hear is her kisses up against yours and you’d love to listen to it all day. 

Nothing too short nor sweet, but god, this was enough to make such a bold verdict.

“A talented kisser, hm?” Yeji hums as she pulls away from your lips’ embrace, feeling captivated with the way you display such talent.

“A girl as pretty as you would make a man like this.” Your hands then freely roam to the limited skin her waist shows but you’re not the guy to complain, but to be grateful. “Now tell me something, Yeji…”

Yeji’s eyes widen; pupils dilate as she anticipates your next words, “Tell what?”

You smirk, as your buttons were pressed enough to make such a bold move. “Why would you want me? From all of the people there, why me?”

Yeji smirks just like you, then bites her lips, using such a modicum of her actions to indulge you even more. “I just know the world destined us to this moment—led us to this moment and god…” Yeji’s hands unbuttons the topmost button of your shirt as her hands permeate such heat onto your chest to push you onto the edge. “I know what you’re gonna give to me tonight.”

Such telepathic abilities enable you to read her thoughts, and you know exactly where she’s going towards, “Let me guess, a show for the world to know?”

“For the world to fucking know.” Yeji’s words end your sentence, and seal the deal.

Licking her lips in delight, you can feel her hands roam on your chest, your abdomen then the final stop, your growing bulge. She cups onto it like it’s something she would ruin and take care of, the best of both worlds as you let out such a nigh-inaudible moan, and Yeji knows exactly you’re liking this.

“You always need to ask.” And there she goes with her wonders.

All you can see is Yeji promptly getting on her knees, and with her absolute dexterity, does her talent to unbuckle and undress your bottom half more than a count to ten.

“God…” She’s mesmerized with the view she’s currently having: you, still in your boxers as her disposition clearly displays awe and amazement. “You’re hard already this fast? Must’ve turned you on too much?”

“Who wouldn’t with a girl like you?” It just shows your evident arousal, and Yeji’s grateful to bear such an entrance. Giving the green light, she then slowly strips off your boxers down to your ankles, mostly gravity doing the work and there she goes, such eyes gleaming with utter hunger and lust.

Her lips mouth such words full of awe as her hands cups the base of your erection, leisurely stroking it as she utters such profanity, “God, your cock is something else I didn’t expect.”

Your hubris just elevated, and let your commanding demeanor take over. “Glad it is. Now, show me what you’re made of.”

She wouldn’t lose against such a hubristic battle, and settles up for a possibly stellar moment. “I won’t disappoint.”

A clear view of her lips sends pecs around your length, letting you know the immediate worshiping and carnal needs fueling her for the time being. From the base up to your already leaking slit, she didn’t waste such precious time letting you know how much she loves this and it's just evident from the start. 

She grows impatient with her repetitive kisses and ups the ante, knowing how this will make your world go wild. “I may just find myself occupied more with this.”

“Less talking and more sucking.” As much as her patience grows thinner by the second, and so are yours. She scoffs off a giggle, knowing that the main event will be such a roller coaster ride.

With the last suction of her lips collecting that colorless liquid, she advances onto something pleasurable. Her tongue then dances around your red cockhead, swirling and permeating her saliva around, upping such sensitivity on your end and with that result, you shiver and inevitably moan in response.

She suckles on your swollen head, then advances past your frenulum to do the wonder she does to your slit and god, this was elevating the experience of such gratification.

“God, s-such a talented mouth, huh?”

“Gifted, I guess.” She continues her oral assault on your throbbing length, thrusting her head up and down as she quickly accelerates the pace up to both your likings. 

The quicker speed sums up the possible experience she has and it shows—such technique is unmatched with the way her tongue dances around your shaft and the little introduction of such a serrated culprit antagonizing the pleasure you’re experiencing, albeit, you wouldn’t bother with such little pain. She takes more than half of your shaft as spits dominate her heart-shaped lips, running down to her cheeks and onto her chin which shows the passion she’s giving in every second.

The occurrence won’t be complete without elevated stimulation: you’d just feel your balls being fondled by her right hand as she encourages more for you to feel. 

And it’s working well, too well for you to utter such compliments. “You’d make myself occupied too, i-if you want—shit, that’s great…”

An audible mhmm can be heard between her bobs as she elevated the speed, then resulting into such a mess that’s just turning you on even more. Saliva continues to drip down onto her chin and onto your clothes that’s probably damned to be given care with, tears flowing down her cheek as she takes more and suddenly, she tests her limits with a single act of boldness and bravery.

She rests her nose onto your abdomen, testing her gag reflex as she’s determined to tame it but in the end, it wasn’t in her favor. Gasps escape her mouth as she catches her breath, saliva connected onto those sinful lips was just the cherry on top yet your grow little concern, afraid she may push herself too much as soon as she coughed. “You good, Yeji?”

“I’m good—I’m good, I’m g-great—your cock is just addicting.” The succulence was evident with her repeated slurps onto your shaft, and you’re just in total bliss with her performance.

Things are not done, and she’d like to end the business with a good note.

She proved herself enough and with her immediate harsh pace, you wouldn’t be a hypocrite nor lie about it. The blurry orange-bobbing head of hers just becomes a repeated image tarnished in your brain, etched until the end of time. She continues what she’s best at, gripping your thighs for further display of talent and as a reply with the surging pleasure coursing through your veins, you opted to fight the leverage with the gripping of your hands onto her audacious head.

Constant slurps, gags and moans just became the music in the air and it’s just the paramount mood you're indulged into. You’d be damned if someone will see the both of you in such a sinful act but you don’t care anymore, not when Yeji’s mouth does explicit wonders on every inch of your body and clouding your mind with such sinful thoughts.

The head game is literally onto another level of experience, but such things wouldn’t last for so long.

She can feel your persistent throbs in her mouth, and it’s a common courtesy to ask where it will end. “You’re pretty close, I assume.”

“Yeah—” You groan in pleasure as she strokes your saliva-sheathed cock with the utmost pace her hands can muster. “—and I want it all over your face.”

Yeji just smiled mischievously, knowing how things will end up on a pivotal climax and how things will unveil between the both of you. “Then do it—cover me.”

All you can see are those pretty, sharp eyes in awe as she closes it, her visage in full display for you to paint on. This is a canvas worth investing such artwork on  and you’d besmirch it with such strokes worth millions. She moans as she feels each rope touches her face, mostly her cheeks, nose, lips, chin and some even getting onto her hair. Those fifteen seconds felt like a minute as you’re in a total state of bliss and for such a conclusion, she strokes you in hopes of milking you dry, emptying up your reservoir.

“God, that tasted great.” Yeji licks her lips and hums in satisfaction and when your senses are coming back to life, you ask her with such doubt.

“How would you clean up?”

Yeji chuckles as she stands up, facing you, “No one wouldn’t care.”

You smile sincerely as you dress your bottom-half up, satisfied as her voice invites you. “Let’s get out of here.”

She’s partly a monster; partly an angel in disguise, yet she can be the best of both worlds and it’s only a matter of time before depths will be reached.

---

Gone are the boisterous music ringing repeatedly in your ears and the alcohol that will probably dominate your body, because at this time, there’s nothing better than her lips locked against yours for the second time.

She feels ruthless and so were you, feeling her tongue dancing against yours and you gripping her waist harshly as you deepen such entanglement.

Her room was something pivotal about your already impeding arousal: dim lights, vanilla-scented air freshener and such a balcony for the both of you to enjoy, and maybe it’s something else than what’s usually known for people to do there.

“Never knew you could have such a room, Yeji.”

Yeji smirks as her nails dug into your skin gently, pressing it playfully as she mouthed her own pride. “This is nothing compared to anything you’ll see but for now, you’ll be more than my guest.” And then her eyes locked up against yours as those orbs wandered around your beautiful face.

Her eyes really tell you about her adoration, as the earlier test was just the tip of the iceberg, and guess what, you passed with flying colors.

“I’d love to be one, Yeji.”

You then share another torrid kiss with her, feeling attached to her ultimately and falling under her spell. She kisses you genuinely as you reciprocate, but you want more, so you pull out of her lips’ embrace, earning a moan from her as you find your way on peppering her neck with pecs and those sharp collar bones. 

You’d eventually take a glance of her flawless features, even though it’s evident ruined by you earlier but it’s such an important element of such undying beauty. You earned your minuscule rewards—her faint moans and chants calling you—and you’d love to double it, with more skin, your lips parts and marks.

“God, please—fuck…” Yeji’s pleas are audible enough for you to be distracted and it’s worth your while knowing it’s something that could elevate such an experience.

“Please what, Yeji?” You continue pecking her creamy, porcelain skin, suckling on it but not enough to result in hickeys and god, it just resulted in sexier moans escaping her lips. 

She’s struggling to articulate words that can formulate her wants, but she’d put up an end to such a clouding demise. “I want more—god—more, please…”

You grip her waist harsher, gaining such control as you pin her harder onto the wall and what a poor soul whimpering upon your own dominative assertion. You grant her needs as you caress her waist while peppering her with torrid kisses, resulting in such a cacophonous symphony that you would cherish hearing every second. 

You wanted more from her and her answer still made your satisfaction resting onto a low zero. “What do you want from me, baby?”

The word elicits a gasp from her mouth, feeling appalled with such a name she always finds hot and funnily enough, the stars are aligning. 

She whimpers but manages to think clearly and didn’t hesitate to be vocal about it, “Your cock, please—” 

As she’s about to advance her hands onto your clothes crotch, you stop her as you shake your head leisurely, having another plan in mind. “No—have some patience and also…” Yeji’s eyes scintillate beneath the dim light that appears as she’s anticipating what words could leave your mouth. “I gotta return the favor.” 

Your hands roamed its way onto the hem of her tight skirt, and asked such a question she can’t deny. “May I?”

She hitched a broken breath and gulped as she responded intimately, “Yes—yes, you can.”

Your fingers ran towards the edge of her skirt and eventually found the zipper and did such wonders, things that could easily soothe her and make her more comfortable. As much as you wanted to see it down on the floor, revealing her probably wet panties, you have other thoughts about your own, selfish arousal.

“Don’t want it on the floor?”

“This outfit, Yeji—” Your left hand then forced her figure pressed onto yours as she yelped with your immediate action, earning a startled whimper as her eyes looked at you like it’s her favorite candy. She loves your subtle harsh acts, and she won’t be deprived of any since this was just a gentle introduction. “—looks amazing on you.”

Yeji smiles as the compliment strokes her ego and how genuine you sounded, “Thanks, for—ooh, gosh!”

She yelped with your touch permeating on her legs as you roamed your hands towards her clothed regions which earned such a sultry, needy moan from Yeji. You can feel the heat that’s rivaling your cold hands and as the cherry on top, her wetness evident from her slit which is probably leaking right from the start.

You loosen up the zip of her skirt and god, she vocalizes how better it felt and maybe it’s mostly because of the fact that your fingers are pleasuring her crotch against that fine silk that’s about to be ruined thanks to your dexterity. It was pursuant to her and wherever she wants it, you’re going to follow it and with her subsequent moans, you’d like to let her know that your skills are up to par. Feeling the hunger running down your body, you can’t help but share another kiss, but this time, it feels chaste since all of the attention and unfeigned emotions are translated down with your fingers. They both felt like deprived lions from the wild, and such an inevitable kiss will bound to feed the pleasure the both of you are needing.

The evident bulge pokes down on your pants and Yeji was quick to notice that, cupping it and caressing to tame the beast. You moaned with her actions and so she is, too, but it's a repeated chant in your ears as she pleads with you for your own comfort. “Your cock, please.”

You didn’t care anymore, and knowing how the both of you wanted this then you wouldn’t deny her for doing the same thing you’re great at. Even with pleasure lingering onto every lobe in her brain, it won’t stop her to claim her promised prize as you help her undress your bottom-half, unbuckling your belt as she does the last step and all you can feel are your defenses going down, one by one as the raging beast that’s inside that clothed prison is about to be unshackled. 

The wait was worth it and the both of you are now in such a vulnerable state that a single touch would make a writhe or shiver as sensitivity is the culprit. Yeji’s fingers are on point and dexterous as expected—the way she danced her hands around your shaft, stroking it in a corkscrew motion is making you feel such bliss that’s unmatched and god, the scene is just hot.

You never thought the sight of the both of you masturbating would be so damn arousing and thought it was just some myth but yet again, hypocrisy is eliminated within the time being.

“God—you really can’t wait, huh?” 

“How can I? We need to mutually feel the same.” Yeji knows her pursuit against your aching beast wasn’t going to bother you, but rather the opposite. Her strokes were going livid as you groan with the lack of lubrication but it was exchanged by the pleasure that she gives you and of course, you wouldn’t lose onto this game and did the same, possibly vibrating your fingers and you maintain such an up and down motion which inevitably elicits such visceral moan from her.

The both of you did your best with your own expertise, doing such sinful things without even the main event is honestly criminal, and you would hold onto that because you want to make use of this and you’d prove to her you’re as good as she is.

“You’re fucking dripping, Yeji—god, did I turn you on so much?” Possibly a rhetorical question or maybe not, but either way, you know she’ll be a little irritated enough to defend her claim and quit such hypocrisy.

“N-No shit—you’re that talented too, huh?” You smile with her inadvertent compliment as you avert your eyes through her clothed crotch and it’s being ruined with her own doing, leaving such a masterpiece of clothing worthless, spoiled with her own juices.

“A natural, more likely—ah!” You yelp with Yeji’s sudden squeeze of your shaft in between her strokes as you glare at her playfully, her face then forming such a seductive smirk then a little scoff with your confidence. 

“You’re cocky too? God, you’re such a rare gem.”

A rare find, you suppose which is truly the truth—you’ll prove to her that there’s no one she can find that will be better than you. Your impatience is growing thinner by the second even with such a hot mess between both your crotches, and you’d let her know about your frustrations and needs.

“Yeji, I need to fuck you now.”

The tone is commanding, your face stern and her eyes widen with those simple words of need. Your eyes meet hers and they never lie—those glowing orbs of yours didn’t cease the exhilaration you’re feeling and she’s the one to blame. 

As much as it hurts for the both of you to stop, it will be rewarding once the climax settles in for such a spectacular show.

“How would you want me?” Yeji’s voice was bubbly but still hinting at that lace of seduction, being the alluring vixen that she is. 

“Strip that skirt, lay onto your stomach, and lastly, feet onto the floor.”

She is as thrilled as you are, and immediately puts up a show but doesn't go further without a question for such clarification, “Don’t you wanna see me naked?”

You would want to, but not now.

“Just the skirt, please. Everything else, on.” Commanding and straight to the point, just how you wanted all along. 

There were no complaints or the fact she’s abstaining from this command of yours, and in fact, it maybe even made it hotter. The way she’s seductively teasing and pulling her zipper until gravity does the job, it’s just a sight to behold and the final product left you in awe: the ruined black silk panties in such alongside the scribbled pattern of her stocking that just made the sight sizzle it complete heat that she emanates (figuratively).

“Like what you see?” She turns around then again, showing you her perfect figure all with your eyes to feast on as you were a step away from your final prize.

“Yes, now please turn around and lay on your stomach like I said.”

Your imperative nature sets herself in a position of reluctance but then shifts onto an immediate opposite. She does what she was told and wiggles her ass leisurely to invite you with a temptation to ruin her and even though if she won’t be vocal about it, you'd make it so that she won't be able to walk until the next day.

Yeji looks back onto her shoulder and lets out such profanity words, “Make a mess out of me—I don’t break easily.”

You won’t be convinced until you try it yourself but looking at her robustness and skills earlier, you might have to be biased with your judgment. “We’ll see about that.”

Completely kicking your garments to god knows where, you’re now in a better state of control as you tease her wet folds, earning a whimper that becomes uncontrollable as soon as you sink your finger against her raging heat. 

You can’t wait no more, you absolutely can’t because you’re dying to know what she feels like and with her last bit of defense out of your way, it’s time to do the unthinkable.

Now parting her supple legs with your hands, your eyes feast on her impeccable figure then onto that delicious cunt that’s making you drool. Unable to contain your enjoyment and your fantasies against her, you caught her by surprise with an unexpected twist—probably the twist that you’re involved in would be your tongue lathering her folds and tasting the escaping nectar that she produces.

It was succulent and you dived in it easily as the musky, floral scent of her tight cunt invites you, and you didn’t waste time as this was a golden opportunity. You wanted to tease her just for the sake of stimulation, playing a game with her ramping orgasm building up but you’d reckon the opposite and such pace ensued impatiently.

“Fuck! Such a t-talented mouth—fuck!” Yeji’s whines were coherent enough for you to increase the pace and double your efforts—you wish to let her reach her denied climax earlier with your fingers and your mouth. It wasn’t far off as you can feel her juices forming a rivulet onto her labia and spreading onto your chin and mouth, knowing how incredibly close she can be. She calls you repeatedly, gripping the sheets tight enough to rip it but it can’t and you eat her out with an effort that no one can rival.

A single wail is what it took before she screams, and there goes your long-chased win within a second away—

“I’m going to cum—” Surprisingly short and articulate, you let her give everything she has and there she goes—

Yeji’s orgasm comes in quickly as soon as she mutters those desperate words, and she immediately lays waste as she constantly spews liquid after liquid onto her sheets which instantly gets ruined. The both of you didn’t care about it but rather mind your own business while you still extended her climax, achieving such heights of her vocals.

“God—just fuck m-me now, please…”

Your cock is aching and throbbing in need, and with the penultimate action making her see such stars, it’s time for the last and the main event to take place.

You ask her if she’s in good condition and she didn’t bother to assure you, so with her green light, you stepped onto the throttle and gave in to your deepest, carnal desires.

Standing up, you then give her backside a last look before you plunge your length inside her wet hole and immediately groan with its tightness, feeling like her walls are gripping your shaft with a Herculean effort that probably was the blessing in disguise. 

“You’re fucking tight, Yeji—this feels just right.” And it is too right to be true, and you love it.

“Stretch me out—fuck, you’re crazy.”

Lust ignites you and it serves such an everlasting fuel for what’s bound to happen, and you give in just like that. You started off slow, letting her get accustomed to your length as you bury the entirety of your shaft then withdraw with just the tip inside, showing such penetration that could make any girl’s mind go haywire.

It’s starting to get to her slowly in every thrust you do—the utter pleasure your cock brings was phenomenal and with her small whines could determine how she’s really feeling deep inside. She grips onto the bedsheets like her life depends on it and it’s only going to get better once you manage such a pace that will make her think of you and you only.

Her cunt tightens once you spanked that pristine skin of hers and then called out to let her know something, “I’ll own this cunt until you see the stars above, do you understand?”

Between her wails of pleasure is her ephemeral nod with your question, unable to speak up due to the stimulation that’s coursing through her. Every stroke you do causes such slaps that adds to the orchestra of her moans that can be possibly heard outside as her room is too puny to shackle such sinful sounds of sex. You grip her hips harshly and increase your pace, making you moan on how she clenches her velvety walls once your length hits it balls-deep inside her.

“Want me to be rough, Yeji?” You hammer your hips in a velocity that’s making her brain in shambles, unable to mutter a response after a second in which you didn’t like.

A small punishment would do the job, but this is rewarding for her and a statement by yours. “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

Her breaths are ragged between your thrusts as she cries with your immediate barrage of spanks, causing her to finally answer you even with her mind unable to achieve such clear articulacy. “Yes, p-please—I want it, ow!”

Another spank onto those pristine skin of hers never fails to make you throb with how it jiggled with such harshness, and the marks that’s finally imprinted on the soft skin tells such roughness. As she grows accustomed with your length due to her repeated chants of pleasure, you quickly opted for what could raise such an experience.

If her mind is ultimately clouded with you and can’t think straight, then you’re the opposite, clearly adapting to the situation.

“Yeji…”

“Wha—ooh! Mffh—mmh!” Ragged breaths leave her mouth as she struggles to breath with what you’ve done—you opted for a leverage that asserts your domination over her making the long, black lace at the back of her neck deemed as a leash rather than an aesthetic of her outfit. She probably liked the fact of such risking playing between life and death thanks to the asphyxiation and it didn’t stop you, but rather prove a point. 

“You like being choked and used, slut?” Your words just made Yeji elicit more moans as she’s being tamed, controlled by you and god, the way she’s creaming against your rapidly ramming length tells you about her satisfaction. The sheets will probably rip off no matter how durable they are and lastly, it will be soaked with her own juices and that’s thanks to your own doing. Her feet then raise up in the air as you give a better angle of penetration, switching between the black lace and onto her legs for leverage.

Even though she's barely stripped from her clothing, her clothes really compliments her figure and you’d like to take this mental picture and etch it on the deepest parts of your brain—something worth remembering until the end of time. The way that she's a disheveled, ruined mess right now just fuels you to break her in half and you’re not going to stop until you’ve fulfilled such destiny.

You wanted your hands to be occupied onto something and not being idle most of the time and with such a completely ruined mess of a girl she is now, you’d love to add more of it. You then grab her wrists and command her to arch her back, in which she complies and immediately, your hands reach onto those perky breasts of hers with the clothing still in the way. You caress them and Yeji can vouch she could feel such intensity even with such stellar clothing being a nuisance but there’s nothing to worry about, not when you’re giving her absolutely everything to feel.

You didn’t stop there as you leaned your frame closer to her while hammering her tight cunt repeatedly and utter the words, “This cunt is mine now, Yeji.”

She nodded and exclaimed a faint yes as you gave her pecs onto her shoulders, letting her know how much you love every single inch of hers and how you’re marking your own territory. Between your kisses is a feeling that something’s building up and you can feel it with the way her walls pulsate around your shaft—you know she's close and it’s up for you to let her wants prevail.

There wasn’t any choice and you love to see Yeji writhe as you give her such thrusts before her cardinal end. 

“I know you’re dying to cum—” You invite her to give in as she moans with your words, urging such a release that could let her see the things you wanted her to have a sight of. “—so cum on this cock. Cum for me.”

Your words act like a lever that opens up her reservoir and it feels like a tsunami surging around your length. With multiple cries to spare, you wanted to make her feel something exquisite while achieving her own orgasm, letting you finger avert her chin facing you, against her shoulder as you kissed her lips intimately. Time felt slow as the both of you locked lips and to ride off her high, you slowed down because you still wanted her to feel such intense gratification through her awaited climax.

“I n-never felt that good in my entire life.” Yeji’s breaths were jagged, as she recovers from her orgasm even with your lengthy still penetrating and possibly destroying her insides. Even with a possibly mind-fucked Yeji, she knew what you wanted all along and didn’t hesitate to ask you about it. “Aren’t you close?”

“Well, if you didn’t cum, I would’ve come first.”

An audible gasp resonated in your ears as it piqued her willingness to help you, and it was evident in her tone. “I could feel it too—just fuck me silly again and just cum.”

She recovered fast because of the evident change of her tone, and you, still a bit puzzled and hesitant knowing she may want a load deep inside her. “Don’t want it inside—”

“Then do it in my mouth—you fucking which hole is now your choice.”

Her invitation is just persuasive and alluring and it never fails you to fall a victim for. Knowing how she wanted it, as much as you wanna bother such another session being between her legs, you’d want to fulfill her wants and it’s safer with the help of a great oral ending.

“On your knees then, and open your mouth. I’m going to fuck your face.” You let her position and prepare herself for what's about to come as surprisingly, her legs are still working fine after all of the havoc you’ve brought into her.

Yeji closes her eyes, her mouth agape, ready for the taking as you stroke your length in its absolute vigor and there she goes, taking you again for the second time. This time, you take control by grabbing her ponytail that’s shockingly intact even with the ruckus you made her be in earlier. She’s taking you like a good girl as you ram into her face with abandon, skin slapping signaling the constant harshness you bring and it is perfect. She gagged and you didn’t care, yet she managed to tame it but wasn’t successful as always—you praised her attempts and wasn’t close to being futile. Her nails dug into the skin of your thighs as she let it be the leverage onto your constant rummage in her throat, and she welcomed every thrust with a gleeful demeanor, locking her gaze towards you.

She cries, tears running down her cheek as she was a disheveled mess and you’re proud of what you’ve done. You could feel the familiar sensation tingling near your stomach and a better way to end such a monumental note is giving everything you can. 

The unstoppable force meets the immovable object, as such velocity is unparalleled, hammering her tight throat like it’s her cunt and within seconds from her last gag you could feel everything coming down to this moment. Here it goes: Yeji chokes yet manages to keep your length all the way in, you groaning and calling her name like a chant and of course, the awaited climax that filled her throat up to the brim. You stayed for five more seconds, burying your length as her arms writhe with her repeated gags and then, pulls out immediately, strings of saliva adding to the mess she is and of course, the image of Yeji almost choking out your load but manages to compose herself to swallow it all, humming gleefully as she not get to taste the entirety of your delicious load.

“Like I said—it’s fucking delicious—hah.” The both of you caught your own breaths yet Yeji shows the struggle evidently. Still on her knees, she managed to show what you’ve done as your reward and the last thing you just saw her go is gulp down all of it in one go, into her stomach. She initiated the last dance with her hands grabbing your shaft, then directing it onto her mouth in order to clean the mess she made onto it. You groan with the sensitive surge she brings you, thankfully her tongue doing the work but you don't complain as within seconds, she ends her oral assault and it makes you feel spectacular for a long while.

You cup her cheeks, admiring the glamorous mess you made in which she unhesitantly neaten with her utmost capabilities. “You’re so damn pretty, Yeji.”

“You too.”

It was mutual at this moment and you never knew it would end like this but her voice wants to tell you that something isn’t over, yet.

“Help me clean up?”

And it was a hint, just out of curiosity, you’ll probably pull the trigger because how can you not refuse her invitation?

---

After countless sleepless nights and tumultuous days, you find yourself at the top of the world, and what better way to end this is just to go home, lay down and reminisce what a day this has been.

“The lights are pretty, huh?” Yeji interrupts your moment with her voice, and she locks her eyes towards yours, staring deeply into your soul as you fall onto it yet manage to snap back to reality.

“Yeah, it is—also, I just can’t comprehend how we ended up this way.” Yeji’s on the same boat as you and you could feel it in your nerves. This felt like a fever dream and you loved every second of it.

“Maybe that’s how destiny works, huh?”

You scoff, as your lips curled up a faint smile and muttered, “Maybe it is and yeah, I should leav—”

“Leave?” Yeji pouts as she inches herself closer onto yours, holding your wrist as her tone hints at her disappointment. “Don’t you wanna bother and stay just for this night?”

You can’t resist her, you absolutely can’t as you don’t want to be the bearer of bad news that will make her feel awkward.

You have a choice and you’ll stick with that… in her favor.

You smile sincerely, and Yeji’s holistic demeanor appears, “Okay, how can I resist you?”

“Up for you to find out.”

Maybe she was good, but honestly, she’s great. She is partly a monster and partly an angel, and you’ll live in those worlds together as you find your soulless heart beating rapidly for the first time in a long while.

You’re completely invigorated, and you’ll embrace this new chapter that opened.

“She’s good, she’s good—she’s great.”

---

You continue ruminating about the day you’ve had, and every moment was worth remembering. You smiled in your victorious attempts, which is having her number on your phone and sleeping with her through the night. As Yeji does her hygiene in the bathroom, a buzz on your phone piques your attention, and it was no other than the devil that made yourself look like an angel despite what you descended yourself into.

kim_chaewon on 23:15 - “Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you huh? Well done with the second phase, meet me tomorrow afternoon for further details. Enjoy your night for now—we’re still not done.”

She received it damn well minutes ago and made her eat up her words, but you’re still clearly within the base of the iceberg, and you’re still starting your remarkable journey.

“Hah… Of course we aren’t…” There was no surprise with that as you muttered in response to her text.

Yet there are multiple questions lingering in your mind: How did she know about this? How would she know if you’re lying or not? What may happen tomorrow? How long will this take? 

You could never answer those unless you figure things out, and let Chaewon introduce you to more of what’s possible between both worlds: you and everyone else’s, including hers.

[theorist-fox]

Paint

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Crossposted on AO3

Previous << || >> Next

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You and Simon share a cigarette. He slips up, and shares something more.

18+

CW: suggestive, non-explicit smut. kissing. smoking. angst. hurt/comfort. miscommunication. mutual pining. sexual and non sexual intimacy. and guess what, my favorite tag, simon ghost riley is bad at feelings.

Masterlist 🦊 | Series Masterlist 🦊

“Need to rest?”

You doubt he hasn’t heard you arrive, even if he’s facing the opposite way. It’s true, you could’ve gotten rid of at least the Kevlar vest or taken off your boots—but being in a safehouse doesn’t mean it’s literally safe, and you don’t like taking risks. Plus, there’s no time for getting dressed if there’s an emergency.

That's why you're sure he's heard you: boots thudding against the floor, the bulletproof vest scraping on the cotton of your uniform, the carabiners hanging from your tac belt, or the gun on your hip that clicks when you walk.

Normally, those sounds are muted; muscles and bulk don’t necessarily mean you move like a bull in a china shop. But you know the beast, now dormant, that is sitting on the floor right at your side.

Fucking bat.

He could move exclusively through echolocation, eyes closed shut; who knows? You wouldn’t put it past him.

You think you should start spreading the rumour, just to watch people shit their pants even more when he walks past. It’s already a sight you swear by, the way their faces pale while you stride beside him, dipping your chin to your chest to hide the quiet giggles—why not add some spice to it?

However, your fun thoughts are interrupted by the man himself.

“S’my turn tonight.” He replies listlessly, eyes locked on the door—armoured, triple-bolted, locked handle, and trip wire at the entrance, courtesy of Soap. He wanted to be safe, he said. Sure—being in a safehouse doesn’t necessarily mean you’re safe, you agree, but Simon always likes to take things to the next level. And Price only feeds that urge, twice as paranoid as your not-so-friendly Ghost.

His watch has started three hours ago, and would you look at that? The door is still there. Closed. Bolted shut. Unexploded. Shocking.

You wonder why the five of you are even bothering with rotations when the place is quite literally a bunker a few feet underground, and if someone were to walk in unannounced, their arse would blow up to bits thanks to Johnny’s intricate wire trap.

But oh well. Simon is like that, and Price is even worse, so you’ll give in to their wishes like Kyle and Johnny did and take it the way it comes.

Then again, sleep isn’t apparently in your plans, and four eyes are always better than two, so you plop on the floor next to Simon, legs outstretched in front of you, mimicking his posture.

You nudge his ankle with the tip of your boot, because he’s freakishly tall, and your foot won’t quite reach his. He bends his knee enough to nudge you back.

“I can take over,” you tell him, knocking the back of your head against the wall. “Can’t sleep anyway.”

You feel his eyes on you, lingering like the muzzle of a gun to your temple, but it’s just a threat—you know he won’t shoot. Though hatred is permanently carved in his eyes—some leftovers of a past life—it feels more like a burning weapon poised to pierce your head, one that never quite follows through.

He’s kinder than he looks.

“Nightmares?”

“No.”

“Go on, then.” Simon says, with a jerky nod of his jaw your way.

“Feel a little restless, I guess.” You reply with a shrug, as if this is your daily routine by now. “Not exactly a comfortable place, this one. Plus, cap snores.”

He snorts. You smile.

“Loud engine, tha’ one.” He comments, returning his eyes to the door.

“You do too, y’know? Well, you don’t snore much, but,” you gesture with your finger at your mouth, “you grind your teeth at night.”

“Ain’t snorin’, tha’.”

“Still,” you purse your lips in a cheeky smile, “Annoying—that.”

You watch him give you the side-eye of the century. The blueprint of it. But it lasts a second before he returns his focus to the door, as if afraid it might run away or something.

"No one’s makin’ ya, y’know?" he drawls. "Don’t have to sleep over—could always jog on after you’re done.”

After you’re done, he says—as if it’s a chore.

You hate when he takes ten steps back after he’s taken one forward. One day he’s all up in your business, worrying his mind and his heart, and the next he tells you to go take a hike after you’re done.

It makes your belly churn and melt like he’s pouring acid over it—you’re in too deep, and you know it. But you're too much of a coward to drag yourself out of the muck of this relationship. You’d rather sink into its depths and be swallowed whole than face the thought of never seeing him again. You’ve already come to terms with that truth—it doesn’t get easier at all, though.

Instead of biting back, you roll your head his way and smile, small and genuine.

“I like sleeping with you.”

His shoulders tighten as if he’s startled by the way you replied so transparently, but he keeps his eyes on the door, giving you nothing else to work with.

“You don’t?” You venture.

No feelings, Sarge—you can practically hear him say in the silence that hangs tersely between you. Simon will die on that hill; you’re sure of it. Even if sometimes he slips and cares, says words you’d never think to hear from his mouth, fucks you too slowly for it to be considered just sex, it’s just the way it is, the way he says.

You know he’ll never leave his shell. Where he’s comfortably lonely, where he’s secure and safe. Whether he cares for you or not, the wall’s too high to climb, too thick to blow.

But the awful person here is not him for behaving the way he does; it’s you for putting your heart through the meat grinder knowing fully well it’ll come out like butchered meat.

If you're looking for someone to hate, Simon isn't the one.

“Negative.” He drawls.

You shift uncomfortably next to him, subtly pulling away a few inches from his leg.

But then he adds, “Toss an’ turn too much. Hog the covers.”

You stiffen and scowl. “I don’t.”

“You do.”

“Well, you could always yank them back,” you reply, sounding a little too petty for your age.

Simon finally turns his head your way, but now it’s you who’s glaring holes into the (shockingly) still unmoving door. His eyes linger on your profile for a second too long, and you’re just about ready to bite back with some snarky comment about him taking a picture so it’ll last longer when he speaks first.

“Don’t have the heart to wake you up.”

You feel something inside you soften and melt. Gingerly, you turn your head his way.

Your eyes lock, and his are creased at the corners—not with a smile, but with tender attention, as if he’s taking in the details of something worth his time, his concentration.

You plaster on a smile that’s both embarrassed and pleased, as your cheeks warm over.

A soft huff to blow out the heat gathered right under your skin, and then you’re nudging his shoulder with your hand. He dramatically lolls sideways.

“That must be the nicest thing you’ve ever told me.”

He nudges you back, and you dramatically flop on your side. He snorts.

“Don’t get used to it.” He says, and gently curls his fingers around your forearm to lift you up.

You’re unexpectedly pulled in until you’re tucked in his side. The team is right behind a thin wall, and the knowledge initially turns your body into stiff marble. While their snores signal that your privacy is safe, you don’t want to repeat past mistakes. No matter how alluring those memories are.

But still—you don’t fight Simon’s hold around you; you don’t dare.

You trust his judgement and progressively melt into him, nestling your cheek on his chest as he drapes his arm over your shoulders. Nice and comfortable, in spite of how hard it is with all this stupid gear strapped on both of you. The Velcro on one of his front pockets scratches your skin, but the rest of you is so cosy that you don’t care. You toss one leg across his, and he doesn’t flinch or pull away.

“Can’t wait for evac to come get us,” you sigh. “I’d kill for a smoke.”

Simon squeezes your shoulder. You decide to take it as a green light to rest; your eyes flutter closed almost automatically, as if he’s pressed a button the moment he pulled you in. Grateful, you bask in this brief show of care—allowing Simon to take that one step forward, fully knowing he’ll just take ten steps back the next chance he gets, because that’s simply how he is.

He doesn’t add anything to your comment, probably registering it as further small talk, and you know he doesn’t care for that. He has a sort of internal threshold about how much mindless chatter he can tolerate in one sitting. You're aware of it, and you don’t mind, instead taking the quiet moment for what it is: a fragment of peace.

His heartbeat is faint to your ear, too many layers between you and his chest for you to hear it clearly. His thumb swipes softly on the fabric of your uniform. And he’s warm, like a furnace rumbling with rekindled fire. Suddenly, sleeping sounds much less of a hassle and more of a treat.

Simon’s chest rises softly under your cheek. The buzzing of the neon lights overhead turns into pleasant white noise, much like the obnoxiously loud snoring coming from the bedroom behind the wall where you and Simon are leaning.

It’s only after a few moments that he shifts—imperceptibly, like the subtle man that he is. But you catch it anyway. Spec Ops and their senses, right?

Yet you trust him, so you don’t bother opening your eyes. You count your blessings, and they are few: Simon holding you to his chest while hostiles run rampant right above your heads is at the top of the list right now, and you won’t let it slip.

But then—a tap on your nose. A featherlight touch of something papery that finely crinkles when it meets your skin. You scrunch your face and force your eyes open to see…

…a cigarette.

You blink yourself awake, though you hadn't fallen deeply enough into sleep for it to be startling.

“For me?” You ask, craning your neck to look up at him, only to find him already gazing down at you.

“If you’re polite ‘bout it.” He replies, tapping the tip of the cigarette on your nose again.

You smile. “Please?”

He hums approvingly and slots it between your lips. Plucks the Zippo lighter from one of the front pockets of his vest. Swiftly flicks it open.

The flame dances before your eyes, blue hues growing into yellows and oranges. You lean closer, allowing the tip of the cigarette to hover right into it, until the white paper burns dark, until it finally glows red.

The first drag you take feels like a warm hug. Not often do you have the chance to sit back and smoke while on the job—the glowing cherry is like a big, fat, neon arrow pointing at your head for eventual snipers. Too dangerous to even try.

But six feet underground (quite literally), inside a windowless, armoured bunker, you’re safe from unwanted scopes and deadly bullets. And your cigarette is your prize right now, so you savour it like you should.

You groan in bliss, smoke leaving your lips in foggy curls.

“Lifesaver,” you murmur, returning your head to his chest.

He squeezes your shoulder. “Easy to please.”

You snuggle closer, and he holds you there in comfortable silence. But he’s incredibly tactile tonight: fingers draw mindless circles on your shoulder, while his other hand has found purchase on your thigh, thumb swiping back and forth along the inner seam of your trousers.

It’s not sexual. You think you’d recognise when Simon’s touch turns into something carnal and covetous. No, now he’s just… touching. Sensing. Testing the softness of the meat of your thigh between his fingers, feeling the curve of your shoulder with his pads. It feels like he’s blowing softly at the cinders of a fire that’s been smothered by the more grievous events of this long operation. It torches your belly; rekindled flames gently lick at your skin, until you feel soft and malleable, warm and weightless.

You smoke peacefully, eyes occasionally fluttering closed. Subtle shivers run through you when his hand travels to your side, right where the bulletproof vest doesn’t cover. 

Three or four drags in, a gloved hand appears before your eyes. He beckons with his fingers.

A breathless chuckle. A fond roll of your eyes. You tap the column of ash off the tip and place the cigarette between them.

Simon uses his thumb to lift the mask off his face until it bunches up on his forehead. You shift enough to sit upright and tilt your head his way.

His cheeks are flushed red, irritated by the continuous rubbing of the balaclava. Slivers of paler skin stretch across his cheekbones and upper lip—knotted scars that have always been there, disrupting the growth of his stubble and the smoothness of his skin. Yet now, after tracing them time and time again, they blend in so seamlessly that you have to focus to even notice them at all. Lost their shock value, they have. Now, they’re just small pieces of a puzzle—insignificant in the grand scheme that is Simon.

He brings the cigarette to his lips. His cheeks hollow as he takes a lungful of smoke. It puffs out of his lips a moment later, as he sighs with the same relief you did moments earlier. Just like that, his apparent tranquillity infuses you with the same peace.

“Don’t finish it.” You murmur, very aware that if he did, you wouldn’t mind.

His mouth twitches, and his pupils swivel down to where you’re nestled in his side. Honey lashes fan his cheekbones, eyelids smeared with black greasepaint that makes the chocolate of his eyes look like the warmest of browns. Dark ripples mottled with gold.

“Learn to share.” He drawls, but contrary to his words, he brings the cigarette to your mouth.

You wrap your lips around the orange filter, brushing briefly with the pads of Simon’s gloved fingers. Another intake of smoke has your shoulders relax, but before you can breathe it out of your system, Simon tilts your chin up with his thumb and leans in dangerously close.

Not that you haven’t been this close before, of course. You’ve had him kissing you silly, mouthing at your skin, or drowning between your legs. But to your poor battered heart, every time feels like the first. A blessing, because you’d never trade this feeling for anything in the world. A curse, because it’s a lonely one.

Smoke billows from your parted lips into tendrils that travel upwards and sting your eyes. You don’t close them, but your eyelids fall a little heavier—though you don’t blame it on the smoke.

He nudges your nose with his, instructing you to tilt your head back.

You do.

His thumb tugs your chin, gently forcing your mouth to part. Your stomach flips and twists, leaving you dizzy and unsure of which way is which. The flames from before are melting you inside out now, burning liquid pooling at your lower belly. It makes you muscles clench, your thighs squeeze.

Simon’s eyes stay on yours as he brings the cigarette to one corner of his lips. He takes a purposeful drag. The burning paper crackles. The sound is ten times louder to your ears.

Your blood pumps madly—you feel it run and collect in the apples of your cheeks, in your head, spinning and spinning, until your thoughts are blurry and disconnected.

The arm coiled around you curves so that he can trace your shoulder, following the outline of your gear, and then his hand settles around the side of your face. He keeps you still, fingers flexed at your jaw and thumb dimpling your cheek. The cold leather of his glove should counterbalance the warmth blooming right under your skin, giving you some sort of comfort, yet it’s such a jarring contrast that it only causes the air to lodge in your throat.

The intensity in his eyes, masked by the usual indolent display, is not lost on you; he makes it impossible, unthinkable, to look away. The air around him is stuffy, almost suffocating, and the haze of the smoke, with its pungent smell, doesn’t help. Yet somehow, it makes him look so unbelievably soft, like everything around him is dimmed and unimportant. Like his eyes are all that matters, or the shape of his lips and the slight crook of his nose.

The hand holding the cigarette goes to rest on your thigh. It tenses under his touch, and he squeezes it until it softens right under his palm.

Smoke leaves his lips, then, billowing right into yours. It travels down your tongue, pungent and hot, even richer in taste after it’s been in his mouth, too.

Something tightens in your belly. Makes your head spin further and your hands tremble, as they lie rigidly at your sides. Tension spreads through your body something fierce, muscles coiled in beautiful anticipation, but the lines in your face are smoothed down when Simon brushes his thumb on your cheek.

You inhale. Nicotine travels down your lungs and inflates them with the earthy notes of tobacco, the subtle hint of mint of a gum he must’ve chewed on before, the humidity of his warm breath.

“Like that,” he breathes hoarsely, abandoning the effort of sounding even remotely unaffected.

You blink slowly, exhaling a fleeting cloud of smoke back into his mouth.

“What?” You ask, so quietly you can’t even hear it over the sound of your own heartbeat.

The cigarette is presented right next to your face, once again. The column of ash at the tip is longer than the portion still available to smoke. As Simon brings it to your lips, you see it crumble onto your trousers in your peripherals. You don’t care.

“Learn to share,” he repeats hoarsely. “Just like that.”

And he nudges your lips open by slotting the filter between them. His gaze falls on them like it’s inevitable, like his eyes are metal and your mouth is a magnet.

You take a slow drag, watching his face with hooded eyes. Simon follows raptly the way your cheeks sink, how your lips curl. He’s lost his subtlety now, more obvious when you notice the heaviness with which his throat bobs.

Gingerly, you raise a hand to hook your fingers at the shoulder straps of his vest, pulling him in. He slowly follows your lead, inching closer once more.

Smoke flows from your mouth to his, a wave of soft grey tendrils that tethers Simon to you. And he breathes it in, breathes you in, closing the gap.

His lips meet yours in a kiss that couldn’t be considered one for how faint it is. But his arm, still curled around your shoulders and holding your face steady, tightens just a fraction.

Simon brushes his nose with yours. His head cocks sideways, and he presses his mouth to you again.

You feel like every nerve ending that’s being touched is set ablaze, synapses overriding in the poor attempt to concoct a thought, a word, a breath. Nothing leaves you, if not a trembling sigh that stings with nicotine.

Simon pulls back. You whine pathetically, and you don’t care, as your eyes flutter open—you hadn’t even noticed you’d closed them at all. You trace a path from his lips upwards, studying intently the lines in his face and the way the camo paint hasn’t managed to settle in the wrinkles around his eyes, in the furrow between his brows.

Pinched, they are. As if that kiss has worried him more than any bit of sex ever could.

Your heart clenches at the thought. Writhes pitifully, as if it could talk him out of his spiral, bring him back to you, burn his lips to yours until they merge into a single fucking entity that’s impossible to tell apart.

But he nods softly, then. Your chest unravels, lightens. You nod back.

The cigarette in his hand falls forgotten on the dark concrete floor. His palm lands on your waist, fingers delicately tugging at the bulletproof vest.

His lips find you again. Softly, like he’s testing waters he’s already more than navigated—conquered, even. Mouths slot perfectly like they’ve been trying to do this thing all this time, all along.

You return his kiss with the same caution, trying to quell that fire ignited in your belly. Soft pecks echo in the quiet room, drowning the sounds of your teammates sleeping just behind the wall, the flicker of the lights overhead. Focusing on Simon’s lips, on his taste, and the slight twitch of his brow pressed to yours.

You busy your other hand by hooking it around one of the front pockets of his vest, where a magazine sits. His chest rises heavily under the press of your palm.

Without ever breaking apart, you shift until you’re on your knees, gaining the rare advantage of height. Simon tilts his head accordingly, resting it back against the wall. Your hands initially settle on his shoulders, then on the slopes of his neck, thumbing gently at each side.

He holds you uncharacteristically tender, a hand on your waist and the other on your thigh, where he pats once, twice, until you’re following silent instructions and end up straddling his lap.

Simon’s kiss never stops, nor does it deepen. He teases your lips with his own, leaving gentle pecks that have your stomach erupt in butterflies, your throat tight and suddenly parched.

You wonder if this is the moment in which he slips one hand under the waistband of your trousers, like he always does. Whether he’ll settle on teasing the blooming wetness on your knickers until he’ll feel merciful enough to travel past the cotton and plunge his fingers into you. Or if he’ll simply skew the gusset of your panties to the side and touch you, formalities set aside.

He does none of that.

Instead, his hand settles at the back of your head, the other one on your waist. You flutter your eyes open, only to find his completely shut—and if Simon Riley dares to look so peaceful, you’ll allow yourself that blessing too.

You lose yourself in him, sharing unhurried kisses only framed by the ripping sound of velcro being unstrapped—his fingers working deftly with your tac vest at your sides. You help him out, lifting your arms so he can take it off.

Simon tosses it behind you. Pulls you back down to him again, with long fingers keeping you still by your nape, while other hungry ones untuck your shirt from your trousers so they can feel your skin. Your stomach ripples when he touches it.

His palm explores, follows the curve of each fold, of each line, tracing a path that warms up under his hand and pitifully freezes when he leaves it unattended. Until the tips of his fingers reach the underline of your bra. You sigh softly in his mouth.

“Yes?” He breathes.

“Yes.” You reply.

It must make something tick in his brain, because his painfully obvious tent pressing up to you twitches under your weight.

Simon kisses you slowly as he palms at your breast right above the cottoned bra, causing your sex to flutter around nothing, yet not in a way that feels unfulfilling.

He spares no more seconds to hook his fingers around the central seam of your bra, pulling down.

He cups one of your breasts as it spills out—feeling its weight in his hand, thumbing softly at the nipple until it hardens, until you feel just enough out of breath.

You think you feel him tremble when he leaves your mouth to travel with featherlight kisses down your jaw, nipping right under the bone, where your flesh is plumper. You shiver and tilt your head to give him more room to work with, offering your neck to satiate his appetite.

His kisses are open and wet, but no less patient, as if he thinks he has all the time in the world to savour you until he’s content. He doesn’t; you know it, but you can’t summon the courage to remind him of where you are, of the possibility of onlookers.

No, because he’s tender, he’s kind, he’s bordering on reverent, as he kisses your neck, as he touches your chest.

His hand follows the indent of your spine, settling at the base of it and toying with the hem of your shirt only to lift it up and brush your skin. Hairs all over your body stand on end. You breathe heavily and slow, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders—your fingernails digging in as if that might help you quiet down.

“Y’ taste good," he whispers to your skin.

Your lips twitch in a smile.

“Haven’t showered in days,” you reply just as quietly.

He bites into your neck. Your spine arches in brief shock, and he keeps you from falling backwards with his palm at your back.

“An’ yet,” he drawls, pulling back just to lift those dark eyes at you, “Sweet as a peach.”

The softest grin spreads on your lips almost reflexively.

“Flattery will get you—”

“Anywhere,” he interjects, lifting your shirt to expose your chest until the fabric bunches right above your breasts.

You let him, perhaps proving him right. Even so, you cup his cheeks when he eases in closer, leaving open kisses at your sternum. The paint over his eyes transfers to your skin, leaving darkened streaks of sweat and black grease.

You briefly wonder if your neck looks the same, or if there’s any residue left on your face. If he’s unknowingly marked you in such a spontaneous way, simply because it was meant to happen. The quiver in your chest becomes easier to understand then—a sense of belonging in the shape of messy grease marks left in Simon’s wake.

He murmurs something you can’t quite place, hushed and lost in the haze that has been building in your head, in the thunder of your heartbeat. You hum inquisitively, brushing your hand through his dampened hair.

He repeats himself. You hear him now. You do—quite clearly, actually.

“Missed you,” he says.

The poor thing that’s your heart cracks fiercely. You wish it were a neat fracture, easier to piece back together, but it’s jagged and dangerously sharp instead.

“You didn’t,” you whisper. It’s a plea, because there are only so many lies you can take in exchange for a fuck.

His hands connect with each side of your waist, grasping at the flesh to keep you still. He doesn’t use that grip to grind your hips to his own, he doesn’t use it to relieve the tension of his hardened sex.

He uses them simply because he can. Because he wants to. Wants to feel you, touch you, sense where you are, while his lips explore somewhere else, where your flesh is softer and plumper, more sensitive.

“I did.” He insists breathlessly, careful not to raise his voice. “Fuck—I did.”

You push at his shoulders, but he doesn’t let up.

“You didn’t,” you repeat through gritted teeth. Tears build in your eyes much too rapidly, fuelled by the frantic beat of your heart.

He latches on to your nipple. You choke on a whine as he tugs at it softly, grasping it between his front teeth. His arms come to hold you entirely, wrapped like vines around your middle. Slowly, you surrender, ceasing your futile attempts to push him away. 

But you cry. The sting in your eyes finally finds relief as you allow fat tears to roll down your cheeks. Simon doesn’t look up at you, maybe because your sorrow translates into his guilt. However, he stops tasting you with a weary sigh, gently resting his forehead on your chest as he holds you steady.

“I did,” he croaks. "I do."

You hold him too, encircling your arms around his head and resting your cheek on top of it. His hands go from still to hesitating until he is the one who gives in, this time, and brushes them soothingly down your back.

You stay like that for what feels like hours, but judging by the lack of movements from your teammates behind that thin wall, it’s probably been only a handful of minutes. Regardless, Simon holds you through all of it. Until he feels the soft stutters in your chest quell, the sniffles abate.

Only then does he lift his head. Only then does he cup your face in his hands. Thumbs brushing your cheekbones, collecting dried-up tears. They glide on smoothly, which makes you think that maybe his greasepaint has transferred onto your skin there as well.

It shouldn’t, but your heart flips at the thought anyway.

“I'm not a good man, love.” He murmurs, eyes dark and unusually sad. “But I'm no liar.”

The earnestness in his voice almost makes you choke up again. 

You swallow it down. Inhale.

Recollect yourself. Exhale. Lean your cheek in his hand.

Your eyes are downcast, staring at the dark streaks of camo paint fading and blending on your chest.

“I know,” you croak, unsure but wanting to believe him. Almost needing to.

Simon’s hand leaves your cheek. It’s so much colder now that the air brushes your damp skin, but the ice sublimates suddenly when he taps your chin.

You lift your head and lock his eyes. They shine with something unshed, perhaps tears, perhaps words he can’t place, ones he can’t say.

“No lies.” He subtly shakes his head. “Not to ya, ya hear?”

You nod softly. “No lies.”

"Missed ya," he says again, his voice cracking in a way that makes you think this is harder on him than it is on you. "You gotta understand that. There ain’t a day goes by that I don’t."

You swallow thickly. Throat dry, tongue stuck to your palate. Eyes fixed on him, once again unthinkable to look away, but for different reasons entirely. Perhaps this is more than one step forward; perhaps this is a whole new path from which he can’t backpedal. You don’t raise your expectations, you don’t dare—but hope is as much of a bastard as it is beautiful, and it flickers back to life.

“Okay,” you reply, not feeling like you can say it back, not feeling like it could stand in front of the way he’s said it—so viscerally that it ripped at your heart.

He kisses you again, soft like before. His hands return your bra to its place, your shirt down to your hips.

You kiss for a moment more, saying everything your voices can’t, as touch returns to be the only language you both understand.

He helps you off his lap. No more words are exchanged as he dresses you up—tucking the shirt back in your pants, putting the vest around you again, making sure it fits just right when he tightens the straps at your waist.

Wordlessly, Simon invites you back to where it all started, that night. Next to him, with his arm around your shoulders, your leg across his own, and your head on his chest. His eyes on the door, focused. His watch is not over yet.

You fall asleep, coaxed by the soft brushes of his hand on your shoulder, the rise of his chest each time he breathes.

Your hand in his own, his paint on your cheek.

[eupheme]

— the season for second third fourth chances

[part v of sugar, sugar] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 4.5k

tags: holiday fluff, reader references/celebrates christmas, misunderstandings, light angst, references to canon-typical anxiety, violence, wade's cancer diagnosis, and death, references plot events in DP 1 & 2, sexual innuendos/implied smut, feelings

With the holidays on the horizon, your afternoons are filled with preparations for Wade’s annual holiday party. With baking and cookie decorating, finishing up wrapping presents - and maybe even a little Christmas miracle, when you find yourself running into a familiar face.

"What?"

It slips from you, as your eyebrows shoot up - glancing down at the piece of cardstock. Before you're adding -

"Why?"

Wade huffs, his finger tapping against the text that loops across the top.

"Don't give me that, Sugar. I spent ages picking out the right font, I know the contrast is enough for you to read it clearly."

And he's right. You can definitely read it, even without the coarse coat of glitter making the headline sparkle.

‘Spread Some Christmas Cheer’

The letters arching above a photo of Wade. His suit on, of course, as he lounges across the lap of what appears to be a mall Santa. Dread in the man’s once-twinkling blue eyes, as one of Wade’s legs drapes across the velvet red suit, the other kicked high against the back of the padded red chair.

‘With Wade Wilson's Winter Wonderland’ in script beneath - with dates and time for his party listed below.

"I can definitely read it," You acknowledge, "I was just asking what, as in what made you take this, and maybe even where, because-"

"Oh," He chuckles, "Yeah, I'm absolutely banned from JCPenney, but worth it, right? This is my best-looking card yet."

You can't help the smile, "It's definitely something."

He grins, "So, you'll come? I heard there might be a certain someone there."

"Is that right?" Your tongue pokes against your cheek.

"Mhmm. Pretty sure he sees you when you're sleeping. Definitely know if you've been naughty or nice, and I know for a fact I've seen you in his lap-"

There's a sound of disgust, as your nose wrinkles, "Okay, can you not talk about Logan that way? I don't need a Santa comparison in my head."

"Just thought I'd spice some things up for you. It's nothing to be ashamed of, we've all had a crush on the big man."

"On who?" There's a rough voice behind you - Logan hand fisted around the fleece jacket tugged from the back of the armchair.

"He knows what I'm talking about," Wade points, "I'm just saying, if Santa needs help handling that sack of his, I'm so fucking down."

"Jesus fucking Christ." An arm curls around you, as Logan glances at the invite, "Wait, this is this weekend?"

"Yes, this weekend," Wade sniffs, "We talked about it yesterday."

"Wasn't home yesterday." Logan's eyebrow cocks, "Or the day before."

"Well, I talked about it with somebody." Wade shrugs - another tapped finger at the bottom of the card, "Anyways, blah, blah, blah. It’s all here, proper name, place name, backstory stuff... just be there, because I know where you live-"

"We'll be there." You interrupt, biting back your smile, "Want me to bring anything?"

Wade's look turns pleased, and then thoughtful, "Well, I was going to get some cookies from Yeastie Boys Bakery..."

The words trailing off, as you groan - already so over the new bakery in town, their stupid jingle and 'viral' cupcakes that taste like shit.

"Don't even talk to me about them."

You can feel the way Logan's hands brace on your shoulder. The low, "he's kidding sweetheart-" rumbled in your ear.

"Guilty." Wade's hands spread wide, "Was just trying to rile you up into offering some of your own splendid wares. Al still talks about the ones you brought over last year. If it’s not too much work…"

The sentence trails off, as he bats his brown, pleading, puppy-dog eyes at you.

"Lead with that next time, asshole." Logan sighs.

"It's not." You answer automatically, though you're already mentally running through your schedule.

The presents you still have to wrap. The loose ends of Wade's gift that you still have to weave in. Another trip to the grocery store, for certain - you'll have to bake at home, since it's a favor.

There's a kiss pressed to your temple, as Logan moves around you.

"I know that look. Don't push too hard, honey." He finishes shrugging on his jacket, "I’ll see if Laura and I can help you out tomorrow."

Wade's voice chiming in, “And let it be known I am formally offering to help, but-”

You huff, “Thank you, but you’re still banned from my kitchen, Wade.”

Still not over the surprise of your gingerbread appearing with piped anatomically correct additions, after you had left him unsupervised last year.

The kiss goodbye you share with Logan lingers, a grateful press of your mouth against his. Wondering what you did to deserve such a man, still ready to pinch yourself every day.

A look in his eyes that matches yours, as he steps around Wade, who still lingers.

"Thanks, Sugar." He grins, "And remember - you better be good for goodness sake-"

You groan, as you shove him out the door. Logan's fingers curling around the collar of Wade’s jacket, the other tugging at the handle.

Unable to help adding your usual farewell, “Be careful out there, okay? Come back safe.”

Not that they need it, not with their powers. But it still feels like a charm, tucked carefully into their pockets as they head out together again - off on a new mission.

"I’ll take care of your Sugar Bear.” It's sung out, muffled behind the closed door. “Love you byeee!"

A sigh, as you shake your head.

Guess you have some work to do.

Your pen marks another item off your list, as you inch your cart through the too-busy grocery store.

It’s already half-filled with other last-minute items. Another couple gifts, now that official date of the party looms on the horizon - you can’t leave Peter, Ellie, and Yukio out, after all.

A new decorative Christmas plate for the cookies - you had lost yours in the impromptu disc golf match that Wade hosted at the apartment last year.

Last you heard, it was still on the roof next door.

Molasses, brown sugar, and spices for gingerbread. A fresh box of food coloring, for the sugar cookies - you were out of red, from last year as well.

A pack of powdered sugar drops down into your cart. Reaching for a second, just as another hand bumps against yours.

Twin apologies chime, as your eyes flick to the side.

Instantly recognizing the woman next to you - the sheepish look on your face cooling.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen in recognition, “Hey.”

“Hi, Vanessa.” You offer a half-smile - the last dregs of your annoyance with Wade vanishing, as you rest the second bag on top of the other.

A beat, before you manage, “How are you?”

“Good. Office party,” She wiggles her own bag, before it slips into the basket at her elbow, “You?”

“Um, I’m good, too.” You shrug, “And no, uh… friend’s party.”

Wade seemed mostly over the disaster that happened close to two months ago. More prone to forgiving and forgetting - gracious, in a way that you could be, when you wanted. That you were, most of the time.

After all, it was easier, to let something slide off your back when it came to a personal grudge. You could be an adult and move on, then.

But it was still hard to forget how crushed Wade had been. How you knew that she knew he had been cooking for her the night she stood him up- a drunken confession that he had seen the notification that she had watched the stories he had snapped for his social media stories.

And even if he was over it, you weren’t sure you were.

“Wade’s party?” She guesses, and it makes you blink.

Wondering when and how she had been invited. As far as you knew, her name hadn’t passed his lips in weeks.

“Yeah.” Your eyes search hers - the tightness in them, how she bites the inside of her cheek, “Are… you?”

“Undecided,” Her lips lift. A breath, before she’s asking, “How’s he been lately? Is he…”

You can’t help the small frown, a mark deepening between your brows, “He’s good.”

A half-truth, before you tack a little more on, “Sure he’s appreciating the extra space. Fixed Al up with a Murphy bed, and Logan’s been staying with me a lot lately.”

“Oh. I thought-” Vanessa’s sentence trails off.

She looks lost for a moment. A glance downward, picking at the manicured edge of a nail.

You haven’t seen her like this before. Too used to her confidence, those sharp edges that you lack.

Pity flickers through you.

“I really have to go. If I don’t start these soon, I’ll be up all night.”

It comes out apologetic - and you realize, you actually mean it, “But why don’t you swing by my apartment in a bit? I’m gonna be baking all afternoon, but I make a mean boozy hot chocolate.”

The look she gives you is tinged with relief.

It’s enough to make you wonder what you’re missing.

“Wait, what?” You yelp - for the second time, in forty-eight hours.

There’s a smudge of flour on your sweater. Holiday music pouring through the speaker on your counter. Vanessa carefully inching the gingerbread cutouts an inch apart.

A shoulder lifting, as she repeats herself, “I said I thought he moved on. With you.”

Not knowing, with the way she had come late to the party where you had met Logan. Left early, with her new corporate schedule.

You almost over-pour the ground cinnamon into the second batch. Tipping it back into the jar, as you let the spoon clatter against the counter. Her head tilts, at your expression.

“You haven’t thought about it? I know you’re both close.”

In another world, perhaps.

Another life - one where you hadn’t met Logan when you did. Hadn’t spent months cheering Wade on, those once barely-there flickers of interest fading to something solidly platonic some time ago.

Your head shakes, the words coming slowly, “It’s always been you, Vanessa. Everyone knows that.”

The corner of her lips lift. Fingernails tapping against the aluminum pan.

“I thought so, too.”

You frown, “Is that why didn’t you show? When he asked you over for dinner?”

Vanessa laughs then, rueful.

“The dinner.” Her eyes flick away, going back to a memory - a beat, before the snap to yours, “Yeah. I wanted to go. I uh, just split with Dermot. From work.”

You nod, remembering - overhearing the conversation at Wade’s birthday.

“He wanted me to move in. Said he saw a future with me, but when it came down to taking that step…” Her lips press together, the lift of a shoulder, “I’ve never seen myself with anyone else. Only him.”

Only Wade.

“But… then I saw you with him. The stories he posted. The two of you cooking, dressed up like a date.” It comes in a rush, “I thought, incorrectly, apparently-”

“He was cooking for you.” There’s a furrow in your brow, trying to piece together the way she saw it.

The sundress you wore for Logan. The captions that tipped towards lewd that you had tried to get him to delete - jokes about “getting lucky”, or the chicken not the only thing “being stuffed tonight”.

She nods, “I’m getting that now.”

“I think you still should have gone.” It’s starting to make sense, but you can’t help the reproach in your tone, ”He was devastated.”

The look she shoots you is defensive. Vanessa had always carried an intensity you lacked, and you take the full brunt of it now. Your fingers curl into fists for strength, not letting your gaze drop first. A beat, before she nods.

“I guess it’s just become easier to run.” Vanessa admits, “Defense mechanism. Get out first. Ironic, I know.”

You frown, not knowing, “Has that… has that happened before?”

“Which time?” Her laugh is close to a scoff, as she sighs.

Your eyes drop now, as you go back to your work. Back to measuring, tipping the spices into your mixer. The words coming slowly.

”He hasn’t told me a lot. Just a bit about last time. About…” You search for the words, feeling guilty. “About him not doing enough. That you wanted him to do something meaningful, and then the stuff with the Avengers, and…”

The words die, when you see her face.

Sorrow and anger, with the sharp shake of her head, “I never gave a damn about the Avengers. That was all Wade.”

A sigh, as she collects herself.

“I just wanted him to find his passion again. He changed… a few years ago. Something happened, a really close call. He fixed it, but he wasn’t the same after.”

A breath, before she adding, “He took it hard. Guilt, I think. All I really wanted was for him to talk to me. To let me help him, but he never let me in because he didn’t want me getting hurt again. He shut down, and stopped talking to me.”

The mixer hums. A beep of your timer, as the minutes tick down.

“You know Wade. Always has a joke ready. Never wants to get serious if he can help it. It’s stupid, but we... drifted.” Vanessa’s throat bobs as she swallows, “I was dealing with my own shit, and when he pushed me away, it reminded me of last time.”

She catches your expression again, as the dough tips out of the bowl. The furrow of your brow, as you swap it for a chilled portion in your fridge.

“It’s been a recurring theme,” It comes out blunt.

Her look turning considering, then, when the frown doesn't waver.

“Do you love Logan?”

The rolling pin slips in your grip. Pressing too hard, denting dough.

“I-,” You breathe. The question unexpected, leaving you wholly unprepared, even as your heart beats out the answer.

Her expression softens, “You care about him.”

You nod mutely.

“What would you do, if Logan just - disappeared? No trace of him, just gone in the night?”

Her question hangs. A physical ache in your chest at the mere thought, one that leaves you unable to breathe. Pieces starting to click together - little bits of what you know, forming some sort of photo.

“Is that what Wade did?”

She nods, “It was right after his cancer diagnosis. He was going through a lot, and just - left. For years. I thought… I thought he had died. I mourned him. It crushed me.”

You can’t help but reach across the table - hesitant, in the way you squeeze her arm.

She lets you, a look shot your way. Defending him, unable to help it.

“I get it, though. I get that it was a lot. I’ve forgiven him. But…” Her teeth pinch at her cheek, that guilt coming back, “When he started pulling away, I thought it was happening again. I couldn’t live through that again.”

You finish for her, “So you left first.”

She nods.

Silence lingers. Nails tapping on the countertop, fiddling with the silver rings on her fingers. The heat of the oven curling across your arms, as you swap one tray for another. Setting it aside to cool.

“You should go talk to him.” Your voice cracks through the quiet, when you turn - hands bracing against the counter.

Her eyebrows raise, “And say what?”

”Tell him what you told me. That you were just scared.” Your voice softens, “He invited you to his party because he still *wants* you in his life.”

She blinks, silent.

“I’ll help you,” You coax, “Logan’s already coming over tonight.”

Your eyes flick down to your phone, checking, ”Uh, really soon, actually. I’ll go next door with you, and bring Althea back with me. Give you two some time to catch up.”

Vanessa’s fingers cards through her hair - pushing back the long strands, the words coming slowly, “I don’t know…”

“Wade is crazy about you.” It comes out bluntly, and it’s this that pulls her attention.

You’re already swiping a container off the counter. Filling the bottom with sugar cookies baked this morning - cut into trees and mittens, decorated with buttercream and sprinkles.

The lid snaps on, as you hold it out to her.

“Trust me?”

Her eyes meet yours, and you can see the swirl of emotions across her face.

You smile and finally - she nods.

She follows a step behind, as you leave the apartment. The hallway chilly, the entrance bringing in a dusting of snow across the carpet, with the revolving holiday traffic.

The closing front door downstairs echoes with your own, as you head the next apartment over. Knuckles rapping against the wood, fingers mentally crossed.

A voice ringing out, muffled, “If you’re part of Rudolph and the Red-Hot Reindeers, you’re a day early-”

Opening to reveal Wade, dressed down in a shirt and sweatpants with his Deadpool logo patterned across them.

“Oh, hey Sugar.” He smiles, “What’s up?”

“Well,” You stall for a second, trying to figure out what exactly to say, “Is Althea home? Was wondering if she could help me with something.”

Wade chuckles.

“Fat fucking chance, she’s two episodes into the Golden Bachelor right now and she’s sure as hell not moving-” The words die out as Vanessa moves into view, the container in hand.

He goes silent, for the first time you can remember.

“I have the same streaming apps as you, I’m sure I can convince her.” Your shift - a hand touching at her shoulder, urging her forward, “And maybe you could do me a favor, too. Taste test these for tomorrow?”

For a moment, you think he doesn’t hear you. His eyes lingering on Vanessa, his face bleeding from surprise to confusion to hope, as he takes her in.

“Yeah.” He manages after a long moment - clearing his throat.

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

It doesn’t take much convincing, not with the way Al enjoys a cup of piping hot tea as much as you do - along with the promise she can watch her beloved show in peace. Almost giddy in the way she makes for the door, cane in hand and Dogpool tucked in the crook of her other arm.

The door just shutting behind you before she’s hissing, “What in God’s name was that?”

You shush her, eyes flicking back towards the apartment. Almost jumping out of your skin when it’s followed by another voice, this one pitched low.

“Seconded. Busy afternoon?”

Logan leans against the wall, Laura expression clear with the pull of her brows. Thirded.

“Something like that.” You herd them inside your apartment, before they can be overheard - not that Wade was listening, you’re sure.

The door is barely shut, before they’re rounding on you. Your own hands on your hips - a nod directing them towards the kitchen table, laden with bare gingerbread cookies.

Al tucked in the armchair, spun around the face the bustle of the kitchen, her show long forgotten.

“You’re stalling.” Laura points out bluntly, as you hand her the bag of icing.

Your tongue tucked against your teeth, as you shoot Logan a look. His eyebrows raised in response, eyes sliding over to the brick wall that separates your apartment from Wade.

“I’m not,” The word strings out, “It’s just, like, it’s not a big deal, right?”

She scoffs.

Althea’s cane taps the ground, “Something happened, and you’d better spill.”

“Alright,” Your fingers spread in front of you, “I ran into Vanessa at the store today. And we got to talking, and I invited her back here. I think she regrets what happened between them.”

There’s a snort of derision, and you can feel yourself starting to bristle.

“We all have our opinions, myself included-” You allow, as another noise interrupts you - lower and more gruff this time. You spin, shooting Logan another look.

“But I think she was genuine. I’ve certainly had my fair share of… miscommunications,” His expressions softens at your words, the corner of his lips curling as you shift to face Al.

“And I got some really good advice once from someone. Something about ‘talking about it’, and that’s what I encouraged her to do.”

“Hope you’re right,” Al sighs- but there’s a smile there, hidden in the way her lips press together, “That boy is more sensitive than my left tit in a snowstorm.”

“Jesus.” It’s muttered, at your shoulder. Logan’s head shaking as he joins Laura, the hint of a smirk as she works on piping a set of angry eyebrows.

Your eyes roll, “I am.”

Spinning back to face the table, as you grab your own bag of frosting.

“After all, it’s Christmas,” You can’t help but throw her way, from over your shoulder.

“And isn’t that the best time for a miracle?”

Logan’s arms wrap around you later, as you snap the last lid in place. Finally done with your last-minute idea - decorating each of the gingerbread to look like your friends.

Laura slipping out a few minutes ago, intent on staying until the end. Just as determined as Logan to see things through, even though you tried to get her to leave a few times - worried about the weather, the long drive back to the mansion.

The slight smile as her eyes rolled - with your affection towards her, you forget how impervious she is.

Althea long asleep in the couch, the quilt Logan’s borrowed so many nights before tucked around her. Ambient holiday music still pouring through the speaker, your attempt to drown out the enthusiastic reunion taking place next door.

Can’t bring yourself to mind. More relieved than anything.

And you deserve it, you suppose.

“You did a good thing.” It’s murmured into your hair, as you finally relax into him.

Arms curling beneath his, wrapping around his broad back to embrace him. You hum with contentment as his lips brush your temple.

“Don’t know if I can manage a miracle,” His lips curve when you lean back, eyes flicking up to meet his, “But if there anything else you might want for Christmas?”

Your teeth sink into your lip, as you grin.

The answer is easy, as your face tips towards his.

“Just want more time with you.”

Logan huffs, as his hand dips down. Cupping soft flesh, kneading - as he tugs you the rest of the way. A grin, just before his mouth presses against yours.

“Mm. Hope you don’t mind celebrating a little early, then.”

Red and green have exploded in the apartment next door - the flamingo lights that spill from the kitchen replaced with blinking bulbs. A tree that you’re truly unsure how it fit through the door, much less the narrow hallway, tucked in the corner.

You and Logan had helped decorate it earlier in the month - Wade directing from the couch, as the two of you and Althea arranged the ornaments. A ninja star zip-tied to the top, but with the lights turned low, and the swirl of snow coming down outside - it’s cozy.

It’s familiar - faces you’ve come to know well, known to love, fill the space. The cookies are a hit, sweet exclamations as they find the ones that represent them. Woolen and knitted sweaters, bodies tucked together on a hodgepodge of surfaces.

And perhaps, you do end up on Logan’s lap. His thighs spread wide in an armchair Wade found on the curb, out of place against the brick walls and industrial windows with its floral pattern.

Your eyes meeting Wade’s from across the living room, anticipating the tease.

But he only smiles back.

Something soft - an arm slung around Vanessa’s shoulder. The ‘white elephant in the room’, as he had cheekily alluded to it, addressed with a carefully placed piece of mistletoe.

Side-eyes and stunned silence easing into smiles, when you all saw the way they looked at each other.

And when he corners you to tell you thank you, you know the bone-crushing hug is not just for the handmade red-and-black beanie and scarf that you had gotten up early to finish for him.

The rest of your gifts don’t quite reach the same level, but you’re pleased all the same. Laura’s smile shy as she tries on the Docs you caught her eyeing, ankle twisting as her eyes dip down.

Logan’s arm tightening around your waist when you hand him the wrapped package. His eyes lingering on yours until the paper is loosened, a pleased hum when he sees the lined leather jacket you picked out for him.

“Your first winter with us in New York,” You smile, “Can’t have you catching cold.”

Something to keep in warm, when he tinkers on the bike stashed in the basement. To protect him, when he’s not in his suit. Better than that the faded fleece he’s lifted from Wade’s closet.

And even though you’d been fairly certain he’d given you your gift last night - and again this morning - there’s still a pretty card tucked into your palm. A piece of paper folded inside, next to sentiments that made heat rise to your cheeks.

A photo printed out - a cozy little cabin, the roof lined with snow. Framed with a thick ring of woods and surrounded by wilderness. The reservation dates and details marked out in the text below.

“A vacation?” You can’t remember the last time you’ve been away. Excitement surging at the thought of spending a week tucked away with your boyfriend, “For us?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” Logan husks, “Found a nice little place up north. Just you and me.”

His fingers flex against your waist, his face tipping up to yours, “Would you like that?”

“I’d love that.” You smile.

You love him.

You’re certain of that - a name for that warm weight in your chest that’s been there for weeks. Since the beginning really, coming to a full flourish with the conversation the day before.

Maybe with the turn of the new year, you’ll pluck up enough courage to tell him.

For now, you beam at him. Pressing yourself close - entwining fingers that squeeze. Hoping he can read the soft look you give him, the words murmured out, in the little bubble you’ve found yourselves in.

“Merry Christmas, Logan.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, before he tugs you down to meet him.

“Merry Christmas, Sugar.”

after part iii, i could not leave our bff wade with a sad ending!!! 💖 for a little bit early on i toyed with the idea of making this series a poly one (before come on and show me) hence a couple little references throughout (and the reason to keep the breakup in the first place) (which I still have beef with in the movie, BUT I did my best). thank you for checking out this series, it might be one of my favorite things I’ve had the pleasure to work on and seeing the love on it has been so amazing 💕