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mira-says · 3 days

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Make it Special

Azriel x Reader

Read on AO3

Summary: When you met Azriel and the bond snapped in place, you'd both agreed that you wanted to wait for your mating ceremony to be intimate, to make it special. But three years of cancelled plans, bad weather, obnoxious High Lords and even more obnoxious Illyrians had you and Azriel deeply questioning your earlier agreement to wait

Warnings: 18+, fluff, smut, tiniest touch of angst

Word count: 3.4k (how did that happen)

A/N: Hi, this is my first fic for acotar and my first time writing smut 🥰 I would love comments, critiques, and suggestions! Also, I use mating ceremony/wedding language interchangeably. Ok, enjoy!!

💙🩵💙

Azriel had to wonder if he'd done something to offend the Mother. He supposed it was possible you had done something instead, but he couldn't imagine what. Surely of the two of you, he was the more likely culprit.

When you met three years ago, and the bond snapped in place, you'd both agreed that you wanted to wait for your mating ceremony to be intimate, to make it special. You had both been hurt by previous lovers and you suggested that the security of vows, spoken to each other and before your friends and family, would give you both the confidence to take those next steps.

And that had been fine, only a couple months into your relationship. And maybe you had been rushing into the ceremony, both of you still scared to lose the other.

But three years of cancelled plans, bad weather, obnoxious High Lords and even more obnoxious Illyrians had you and Azriel deeply questioning your earlier agreement to wait.

The first time you had planned your mating ceremony, it was to be in the beautiful temple on the Sidra a few weeks before the Winter Solstice. That winter had churned out more blizzards than Velaris had ever seen, causing damage to the roads and leading to the head priestess cancelling the ceremony so the temple could house those stranded by the ice and snow.

A disappointment, but understandable.

The second time was over a year later in the early summer. No blizzards, not even a drop of rain fell on your wedding day. Just Azriel diving to the townhouse from the House of Wind where he'd been getting ready as he received a report that Beron was invading the Spring Court.

You'd always hated the High Lord of Autumn, but never more so than when he'd ruined your wedding. It took six months of fighting and endless, fruitless negotiations before Beron agreed to pull his forces back.

There were a couple more cancelled dates after everyone had settled, either Azriel was needed for a mission or you were called to another court for trade negotiations. Each time you set a new date, you and Azriel would laugh and wonder how this one would be ruined.

By this fifth or so time, Azriel had had enough laughing. The date was set for early autumn. The location was the River House, despite Cassian's whines that you were copying him and Nesta. Azriel offered that Cassian pay a booking fee for another location, hope it wouldn't be cancelled and that the cancellation fee wasn't more expensive than the venue was worth, or get over it. Cassian got over it.

Over the years, you and Azriel broke more and more rules of your earlier agreement. First, you agreed you could watch the other bring themselves pleasure. Then touching was allowed. Then oral. Then it was everything short of Azriel actually putting his cock in you. Several times, you had been close to throwing out the agreement entirely and just fucking, but something always stopped you. You wanted your first time with your mate to be special, not something that just happened because you were horny or desperate.

One of these times, a week before your wedding that you still would not let yourself dare to hope would actually happen, Azriel's head was buried between your legs, bringing you the kind of pleasure only he could provide. He brought you to climax over and over before you finally pushed him off, exhausted. He smirked at you with purely male satisfaction before kissing up your body, latching on to your neck.

"Love," he whispered. "I want to fuck you so badly."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of his lips on your skin. "I know, just another week."

He stilled for a moment before pulling the two of you out of bed.

"Az?" He dressed you quickly in a robe and threw pants on before taking your hand, shadows encasing both of you.

The shadows cleared and you blinked quickly, realizing you were outside of Rhys' office in the town house.

"Azriel, what are you doing?"

He ignored you, throwing open the door to Rhys' office. You heard a squeak from inside and looked around Azriel to see your High Lord and Lady in as nearly a compromising position as you had been a moment ago.

Rhys was pulling Feyre's shirt back around her chest. "What the fuck, Az?"

"I need you to know and understand something." Azriel said, dutifully keeping his eyes locked with Rhys'.

Rhys huffed incredulously. "And that is?"

"That is that my mate and I are getting married next week, and I don't give a fuck who needs help or who starts a fight or anything. I don't care if Devlon burns Illyria to the ground. I don't care if the fucking king of Hybern comes back from the dead and launches a fucking ball of fire at Velaris, we are getting married next week."

For a moment, you, Feyre and Rhys could only gape at him. Feyre broke first, trying and failing to conceal her laughter. "You got it, Az. Next week, no matter what."

Azriel nodded, content enough with her answer. You mouthed I'm so sorry at her and Rhys as he pulled you back out of the office.

Rhys couldn't resist. "Wound a little tight, brother?" Azriel just raised his middle finger in response and his shadows carried you both back to the House of Wind.

The morning of the ceremony was a blur.

Nuala and Cerridwen helped you bathe, eat, and dress before you were met with the full force of the Archeron sisters and Mor, ready to exert all of their creative energy on your wedding day look. Mor wove you hair into an intricate updo with Elaine helping her place pins and little white flowers. Feyre painted your face with little blue accents around your eyes that you knew would match Azriel's siphons. Finally, Nesta helped you into your dress, making sure you could move and breathe and dance as you wished.

You kept waiting for some announcement, some interruption that would cancel the ceremony yet again, but it never came.

The five of you stood crowded around a full length mirror, taking in the final look. You gazed at your reflection and felt your heart twist. "Is this really happening?" You asked softly.

Feyre took your hand gently. "It is. I promise."

They lead you to the front door of the river house before scurrying out to their seats in the garden. You caught a glimpse of the sky as they rushed out. How was it already the evening?

The front doors were pulled open again, with intention this time. You stepped over the threshold.

Moments later, it seemed, you were in front of Azriel at the altar. You vaguely remembered walking down the aisle, passing all your sniffling friends with huge smiles on their faces and sweet music playing around you, but from the moment you met Azriel's eyes, he was all you could see. Your mate.

"Y/n," he whispered as you stood across from him. He shadows danced over his shoulders. He opened his mouth to say more but found he couldn't speak. Tears glistened in his eyes.

You smiled up at him, taking his hands as the priestess had you speak your vows. You'd baked a lemon muffin for him to seal your bond. It was simple, but it was what you'd been not-so-secretly eating in a coat closet at one of Helion's ridiculous parties when Azriel had stumbled upon you, seeking solitude as well.

His eyes lit up in recognition as you handed him the muffin, three years after that day, and he looked you in the eyes as he took a bite.

"In the presence of all your friends and family, I declare you mated before the Mother," the priestess finished. Azriel held your cheek and kissed you deeply. The whoops and cheers from your friends made you smile against his lips. Finally.

A boom startled you from the kiss and you looked up to see red in the sky. You tensed, wondering if the king of Hybern had indeed come back from the dead and launched a fucking ball of fire at Velaris, but more booms sounded and beautiful, colorful fireworks lit up the night sky.

The reception Rhys and Feyre had planned was almost as ridiculous as Helion's party, but you loved every minute, marveling at the deep hum of your bond as you and Azriel danced.

Even hours later when the music and dancing had finished, you could feel that steady thrum of energy in your body. The way Azriel's eyes sparkled in the low lightning told you he felt it, too. Nesta had planned the last part of your reception, where your family gathered before a carriage to see the two of you off. As you stepped on the walkway, Azriel's hand clutched tightly in your own, Rhys waved his hand and everyone suddenly held a little ball of daylight. You paused in wonder at the sight.

"Now!" Nesta yelled and threw her little ball directly at your chest. It hit you softly and exploded into little sparkles of faelight that shimmered softly against your skin. You looked back to her in surprise and saw the rest of the Inner Circle aiming to toss their faelights at you and Azriel.

Shrieking in delight, you and Azriel ran through the bursting lights to the carriage. Azriel had somehow dodged all of them until you saw Cassian land a direct hit to his nose. Azriel stopped and gave him a glare that would have had lesser males pissing themselves in fear, but Cass only tipped back his head and laughed, elbowing Nesta and pointing at Azriel's unamused, now glowing, face.

Azriel opened the carriage door for you and helped you into the plush space. The two of you waved from the window as the carriage pulled away, the laughter and well-wishes of your friends echoing behind you. You felt your skin heat in anticipation at what was to come. Finally, you could have each other fully, the way you'd been dreaming of. You wouldn't let anything stand in the way.

Azriel waited until the carriage had gone a couple blocks before taking your hand and whisking the two of you away with his shadows.

Directly into a raging thunderstorm.

The little cottage you planned to stay in for your honeymoon, or frenzy as Rhys loved to call it, was on a high cliff above the ocean. It was a stunning view when it was covered in torrential rain.

Azriel had taken you to the front steps of the cottage. He could only blink at you as you were both soaked immediately with rain. You couldn't help but laugh at his disbelieving expression. He shook his head, giving you a half smile, and went to unlock the front door.

The key didn't fit. Azriel shook the handle to no avail and lightly punched the door in defeat.

Grinning a little at your particular string of bad luck, you stepped up to his side, but your smile fell away at the sudden despair on his face.

"Azriel-"

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "Fuck, this was supposed to be perfect. I wanted to make it special for you. We can finally-" He cut himself off, shaking his head.

You touched his arm comfortingly. Before you could speak his shadows enveloped you, carrying you both a few feet through the front door and into the cottage.

Not sparing a glance around the interior, stilling him as he roughly kicked off his shoes, you reached up to cup Azriel's face in your hands, guiding him to look down into your eyes.

"My love," you said. "It doesn't have to be perfect."

"I know, but-" You brushed your thumb over his lips, shushing him.

"Our wedding was perfect. Truly, I couldn't have asked for anything more. And this, sex, marriage, our new life... It's special because I'm with you. My mate, who I adore." You reached up to kiss him lightly. His eyes softened. "Every moment with you is special."

His shadows, which had been twitching nervously, seemed to calm as he placed his hands over your own and brought them to his lips, kissing your fingertips. "I love you so much."

You smiled up at him, feeling the anticipation that had been building all night bubble up. Azriel rested your hands on his shoulders gripping your hips in his own, pressing you closer to him. You both cringed for a moment, feeling your sopping clothes press against your skin.

Azriel's smile turned mischievous. "Let's go take these off."

You pulled away from him, turning and dashing up the narrow set of stairs that you assumed would lead to a bedroom. You paused briefly at the three doors down the hall, trying to guess which would have a bed inside, but Azriel caught up to you, sweeping you into his arms and pulling you in for a heated kiss, your back against the wall.

His hands drifted over the wet fabric of your wedding dress, the coolness of the fabric against the heat of his skin causing you to gasp. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, pushing you more firmly against the wall as he explored your body.

His lips moved to your jaw. "Az..." You moaned, breathless. "Bed."

Azriel sucked on a spot along your jaw that sent sparks flowing through you. "Hm, and what if I want to take you right here?"

You couldn't stop the heat rising to your cheeks at the idea. "Next time." You promised.

He stepped back, grinning. "I do like the sound of that."

He opened the second door in the hallway, backing into a dark bedroom. You vaguely noted the dark wooden furniture with deep blue accepts, but your eyes stayed trained on Azriel's as they seemed to glow brighter in the moonlit room.

You followed him slowly, feeling a sudden touch of shyness though he had seen you plenty of times over the last three years.

He met you just inside the door, kissing you softly. You felt his hands in your hair, gently undoing the intricate style Mor had spent hours on this morning. You hummed as your hair fell back around your face in soft curls.

"You are so beautiful." He breathed, reaching around your back to unlace the corset of your dress. You took the opportunity to slide his jacket from his shoulders, careful to not catch it on his wings, and unbutton his crisp white shirt. You felt your dress fall to your feet, and Azriel helped you carefully step out of it.

You had a momentary thought of hanging it up to dry somewhere but your brain emptied at the look in Azriel's eyes. His pupils were wide and hungry as he took in your body in only lacy white lingerie. His hands gently skimmed over your sides, causing you to shiver. He gripped your hips tightly and dropped to his knees before you, eyes fixated on the little jewels woven into the lace of your panties.

"Please don't rip them." You regained your voice in time to ask.

Azriel smirked up at you. "Would I do that?"

"Yes. Plenty of times--"

Your words turned into a moan as Azriel leaned in to lick a broad stroke up the length of your covered heat before gently pulling the garment down your legs with his fingers brushing your skin.

He helped you step out of them, giving you a pointed look as he folded them and placed them on the floor by your discarded dress. He took off your heels next and placed them down just as reverently as he had your underwear.

Starting at your calf, he began to press kisses up the length of your leg. You shivered as he reached your thigh, his eyes darting between yours and your core. His lips passed it by entirely, though, instead latching on to the skin on your hip and sucking a deep mark.

You took the time to admire how his hair, still dripping with rain, was starting to curl around his ears. You reached down to card your fingers through them gently, and he paused his kissing to stand up to his full height.

You pushed his shirt the rest of the way off around his wings and skimmed your hands over the muscles on his chest, feeling their power and getting a sudden rush at the thought that with you, he would only ever use them for your pleasure.

Azriel seemed to read your mind, pulling you closer so you head rested against his heart. He reached behind you and unlaced your bra, both of you sighing at the feeling of your breasts pressed against his skin as he tossed it to the floor.

When you pulled away to look back in his eyes, the heat growing inside you felt unbearable. You crashed your lips against his and he clumsily stepped back until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. You fumbled with his pants for a moment until he took them and his underwear off in one fluid motion, pulled you on to the bed, and climbed over you to reclaim your lips.

You felt like you were on fire and Azriel was kindling, making you burn hotter and hotter as his hands and skin pressed you deeper into the sheets.

His fingers teased around your clit and you would have screamed had his tongue not been thoroughly occupying your mouth.

When they prodded at your entrance, you had to break away from the kiss. "Azriel, please," you gasped.

"I know," he murmured. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

He kissed you again as his fingers entered you, stretching and curling in a way that had you moaning against his lips.

He was thorough, wanting you to feel no pain when he finally put his cock in you. It wasn't your first time having sex, but he was confident he was the biggest male you'd ever been with.

His fingers continued their delicious torture until you were gasping, "Az--I--I'm close!"

He stopped his movements and pulled out his fingers gently, smirking as you whined at the sudden emptiness. "The first time you're going to come tonight will be on my cock," he said, his voice deep with desire.

"Fucking, please, hurry up then!"

"No way, love, I'll take as long as I like."

Apparently, he didn't like to take long at all because as soon as he finished speaking, he'd lined up the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing momentarily before pushing in a little.

Tears fell from your eyes at the lovely stretch, and you could tell from the way Azriel's arms tensed around you that he was overcome with pleasure as well.

He pushed in a little more, so slowly and gently you could have cried again, and maybe you did. It felt like years passed as the two of you connected deeper and deeper until finally he was seated fully inside you, your legs pulled around his waist and his hips flush against yours.

He paused so you could adjust, but you didn't need to, he'd been so gentle and fit so perfectly. The bond between you felt alive with energy and love.

The way he looked into your eyes had the fire within you cooling for a moment as your mind caught up with where you were. This was your mate, looking down at you like you were the most precious jewel he'd ever seen. You cupped his cheek and he leaned into your touch.

The first thrust of his hips had the fire back in full force, your eyes rolling upward with the feeling. Again, he moved slowly, but with power and intention, making you feel every inch of him slide along your walls and brush against a spot that had you digging your nails into his shoulders.

Azriel made love to you, and you to him. He was whispering in your ear as he moved, but you couldn't decipher what he was saying above the pleasure that seemed to roar throughout your body.

The fire inside was burning hotter and hotter with every thrust of his hips, every breath from his lips on your ear, every flick of the finger he brought down to your clit.

You came with a gasp of his name, your vision going white and feeling light spark through your veins. He came with a shout a moment later, releasing himself deep inside you.

You held each other tightly as you came down from your highs, breathing heavily. Azriel let his weight fall on you and you savored the feeling of him above you, like a warm blanket. You felt his lips place lazy, soft kisses on your neck where he had buried his head.

"Az," you said quietly after a minute.

"Hmm?"

"That was pretty special."

He laughed, "Yeah? Worth three years of waiting?"

"I think so," you tugged on his hair so he would turn to look at you. "But we should do it again, just to be sure."

He smiled and flipped you so you were resting on his chest. He ran his fingers through your hair softly, hazel eyes glowing as he studied your face. "Every moment is special with you."

💙🩵💙

Thank you for reading 🥰

#acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel smut #azriel x you

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firelightmlpoc · 2 days

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In regards to the current Pansear Doodles problem, I have this to say, & will continue to stand by this until further proof is presented:

Firstly, a statement of mine I’ve been saying for a bit now:

“So, is this account in the screenshots that is claimed to be Pansear actually 100% confirmed to be Pansear’s? The grammar pattern isn’t matching any other messages Pansear has posted in any other server I’ve seen them in, nor was the actual ACCOUNT actually shown besides the nickname & the pfp (Which is barely able to be considered solid proof, especially with the advent of server profiles allowing specific names & pfps for other servers on a whim) You can click an account to see the full account details, mutual servers, ect cetera & show that information WITH these screenshots real easily, so idk why that wasn’t done.

Fuck, it’s still really easy to fake Discord screenshots nowadays too. Is this 100% confirmed to be Pansear in the screenshots being posted?”

As of the time of writing this post, this STILL hasn’t been addressed, nor has any further proof been given. Furthermore, with regards to how Pansear responded to just the allegations themselves, I guarantee they didn’t try to defend themselves & keep their accounts up because of actual threats to their person.

Just look at what happened to their Tumblr handle LITERALLY, AT MOST, HOURS AFTER THEY TOOK THEIR ACCOUNT DOWN.

You all think that the horribly socially-anxious, anxiety-ridden person known as Pansear Doodles could handle that kind of harassment directly to themselves, much less WANT to? No wonder they didn’t even try to defend themselves.

Now, another user I was talking to about this mentioned a good point as well (Not going to give their name to avoid them getting harassed as well.) They said this in response to the screenshots:

“There is no solid proof the Feral Porn screenshot or the Self Harm screenshot are truly Pansear or Emily, but there is some weird oddities regarding the two that show "multiple members". Occasionally, you can see a blue blip peaking behind the censor that matches the color of the 0303Emily account in the FP screenshot exactly. More critically, all of the accounts in the screenshots that aren't "Pansear" have the time sent value uncensored, and they line up with eachother pixel for pixel. This means that if you wanted to fake this screenshot, it would be really easy, as you only need 2 accounts, or just one friend. Also Pansear mentioned how they blocked 0303Emily months ago, so them talking like nothing happened makes no sense. I find it VERY hard to believe the screenshots are real considering all the oddities, the story holes, ease of fakery, and the anonymous source of the information. Every one of these points isn't enough to prove that it is fake, but it certainly isn't enough to prove it's real, and them combined all point in the same direction...”

Now, today I hear that more crusading is occurring from these same people who made these claims about Pansear.

So, @iridescentipede & @azrielfiend . You got any actual PROOF, or is this all stemming from your prior incident with Pansear not immediately trusting you when you accused their friend with minimal proof before?

#rain world #rainworld #pansear #pansear doodles #fuckshippingcontainer

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my-castles-crumbling · 23 hours

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wizard - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 145 - NSFW but not explicit

Sirius can't believe this is happening. Finally, finally, after years of pining, months of dancing around each other, it's all culminated in this. Hands roaming on heated bodies, biting lips, moaning into each others' mouths.

he's overwhelmed in the best way. He just wants more. Everything. He can't get enough of Remus, because he's wanted him for so damn long.

So, he says it without thinking: "Fuck, I don't have anything. Do you have lube?"

And Remus pauses, eyes looking deep into Sirius's soul.

And fuck. Has he misread things? Are they only snogging as- what? Friends? His stomach sinks.

But then Remus opens his mouth and looks at him with the most endearing smile. "Sirius. You know we're wizards, right?"

It hits him like a brick to the head and he breaks into a beaming smile. "Right," he laughs, before connecting their mouths again.

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flowersforbucky · 14 hours

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by the end of the night

logan howlett x reader - 7.2k words

summary: reader is a mutant with emotional regulation and healing powers, who frequently helps logan through nightmares - without him even knowing. what happens one night when he wakes to find you in his room?

warnings: 18+only mdni, smut, ptsd, nightmares, friends to lovers, unprotected p in v, oral, fingering, pet names, language, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly angst but mostly fluff! implied age gap as logan calls reader "kid" but reader is 21+

a/n: written with worst!logan in mind. reader lives in the x-mansion and is a long time friend of wade's who let's logan, laura and wade move in when al's place gets too cramped.

follow @flowersforbuckyfics & turn on notifications to stay updated ♡

You had lost track of how long you had been standing under the hot, harsh stream of the showerhead. You had yet to wash your hair or scrub the sweat and grime from your skin, allowing yourself the well-earned luxury of letting the water beat down on the aching muscles of your back while you rest your forehead against the emerald colored porcelain tiles. By the time you've finally finished rinsing the last two days down the drain, the water runs cold.

You secure a towel around your midsection and swipe the side of your hand across the foggy bathroom mirror to take in your appearance. Hollow, peaked eyes and more fine lines than usual - you definitely need the full twelve hours of sleep that calls your name.

You brush your teeth with one hand and pick up your phone with the other, checking the time - 11:22 pm. You probably have a few hours to get some shut eye before –

A distinct, deep roar interrupts the midnight silence and echoes off the walls of the mansion, startling you. Your phone falls out of your hand, bouncing off of the linoleum flooring.

Before that.

It would be your luck for it to happen hours earlier than usual tonight, of all nights. When you’ve just got off of a seven hour flight from Ontario, after two days of helping people who had been wounded in severe flash floods. Not only healing their physical injuries, but calming their nerves with your powers. And, of course, when you’re fresh out of a shower, naked except for the large, white fabric that covers the middle part of your body.

You don't even bother to pick your phone up before you're stepping out of the bathroom, clutching the towel to your chest. The door to the room directly across the hallway opens, revealing a wide-eyed Laura, donning pajamas and sleep-ruffled hair.

“You're back,” she exhales. The relief she feels at the realization that you're home radiates from her from across the hallway. “Good. Last night was–”

Another guttural yell pierces the air, silencing her.

“I can imagine,” you sigh, staring in the direction of Logan's room. “I'll take care of him,” you assure her, knowing all too well how badly she worries for him every night. “Get some sleep,” you tell her gently. You start to walk toward the sound of his pained cries, when Laura calls your name. You look back at her over your shoulder.

“You're.. only wearing a towel,” she states softly. You glance down, pulling the towel even tighter around yourself. Your bedroom is just on the opposite end of the hallway, but by the time you dress yourself and make it back to Logan’s room, he could hurt himself.

“I’ve been helping him without waking him up for months now,” you remind her. “Let’s just cross our fingers that this time isn’t any different.” She gives you an uncertain nod, and reluctantly retreats back into her room.

You proceed towards Logan's door, turning the handle as quietly as you can. Thankfully, he never locks it. You're good with picking locks, but it's not something you want to waste time with in these instances.

Your heart cracks and simultaneously sinks to your stomach as you click the door shut behind you. He's visible in the pale yellow glow of an old table lamp that he’d left on.

You don't think that seeing him like this will ever get easier - so helpless and vulnerable, not in control of his own mind or body. Before you've even reached his bedside, you're hit with a ripple of panic and despair. You may not be able to see the visions that torment his mind, but his emotions that wash into you paint a vivid enough picture.

He lays flat on his back, his arms at his sides with his fully-extended claws sunk into the fitted sheet and his comforter thrown onto the floor next to the bed. You briefly wonder how many sets of sheets he has had to toss out and replace in the last few months.

His head jerks violently from side to side, as if he’s trying to get away from something that you’re unable to see. “No, no, no,” he grunts through gritted teeth.

You’re silent. It’s best this way - you, Wade, and Laura all agree on this. Everyone who has slept within the same building as Logan is privy to the nightmares that plague him, and the three of you agree that the best way to help him is without him knowing about it. As if the man isn’t already riddled with enough self-loathing for things that had happened in another timeline, the last thing he needs is to feel guilty and embarrassed for waking up his closest friends and loved ones nearly every night. So, as badly as you’d like to comfort him with your words and tell him that he’s okay, he’s safe, he’s just having a bad dream and he’s here in the mansion with you, and Laura, Wade, and the rest of your friends - you don’t.

Instead, you slowly bring your palm to his bicep, mentally conjuring the essence of your powers to flow through your skin and into his body. You feel the surge as the energy breaks through the barrier of your palm and begins to radiate across the flesh of Logan's exposed arm. Usually, he begins to still right away - the loud, angry yelling will dwindle to pained moans that soon cease to silence as he slips back into a calm and dreamless sleep.

This time, however, the groans don't quiet and the sharp thrashes don't still. Your brows furrow together in concentration, forcing more of your energy into his being.

He yells out something unintelligible, digging his claws deeper into the mattress, stuffing falling out around his hands. You try not to panic, growing increasingly confused as to why your powers don't seem to be helping. It's never taken this long to calm him. Normally, placing one hand on him is enough to ease his mind.

His skin is clammy and flushed beet red with thick beads of sweat forming across his forehead and neck. Knowing that you need to force more of your energy upon him, you lean against the edge of his bed so that you can reach across him and place your free hand on his opposite bicep. Just as your palm is about to make contact with his skin, his eyes shoot open.

You yank your hands away from his body, prepared to step back and give him space when he quickly raises off his pillow, his right hand darting towards your face. You instinctively flinch away as the tip of the metal talon between his index and middle finger lands directly across the pulse point of your throat. Your breath hitches in your throat, completely opposite of how his chest heaves up and down with ragged breaths. You're frozen beneath his claws as you wait for him to take in the scene before him.

“You're okay,” you manage to squeak out. “You were having–”

“What the fuck,” he grumbles, his voice raspy from yelling. His eyes dart from your face down to your lower half, lingering for a moment longer than necessary as he takes in your current attire - or lack thereof. His eyebrow shoots up in confusion and he retracts his claws back inside his hands.

“I had just got out of the shower when I heard you yelling.” The words spew out of your mouth like vomit. His gaze moves from you to his mattress, noticing all of the foam that he had ripped out while unconscious. “I was just trying to–”

“Trying to what?” he snaps, interrupting you again. He looks back at you, a mixture of anger and frustration now blooming on his features. “Get your jugular sliced? What were you thinking?” His words are laced with a venom that you've heard directed at Wade many times over the course of the last few months when they're at each other's throats over God knows what - but never, ever has that tone been directed towards you.

“I was thinking that you were screaming loudly enough to wake the whole mansion,” you bite back, crossing your arms over your chest. His harsh stare makes you feel even more exposed than you are. You can tell that your words hit a nerve by the way that he purses his lips together.

“I'm sorry for disturbing the peace, kid,” he spits with a sarcastic huff. The condescending pet name makes your blood boil. “If it happens again, save yourself the hassle and send Wade to risk getting stabbed.”

“It's not a hassle–” you start and then throw your hands up in surrender. It's late, and you're exhausted, and you don't trust yourself to not throw it in his face that it's you who has been soothing him through these nightmares for the last three months, not Wade, and nevermind the fact that you have regenerative powers too, so even if he accidentally did stab you -

He's looking at you expectantly in the thick silence.

“You know what? You’re right,” you give an exasperated shrug, trying to keep your voice even so it isn't obvious that his reaction has hurt your feelings. “It won't happen again.”

He looks as if he’s going to speak, but you are already turning on your heel and stomping out of his room, slamming his door closed behind you.

You retrieve your cell phone from the bathroom floor and start to head to your room, when Laura peeks her head out of her doorway. You pause, quickly trying to conceal any signs of frustration from your expression.

Given the look on her face, you can tell that she overheard the interaction.

“He's just embarrassed,” she whispers sympathetically. You're hit with a wave of her emotions - worry, helplessness, uncertainty. You don't mean to pry. In fact, you usually do everything in your power to keep other's emotions out, but sometimes people feel so many things at once that those feelings just pour into you against your will. “He’s doesn't know how to accept help without feeling like a bur-”

“It’s okay, Laura,” you interrupt her softly. “We knew this is how he would react.”

“I could try to talk to him about it,” she offers, leaning against the doorframe. “Once he calms down some. Explain how you've helped–”

“You don't have to do that,” you assure her. You don't know why it was so difficult to settle Logan's nightmare tonight, or why he woke up this time after months of successfully soothing him, but despite his harsh reaction and telling him that it wouldn't happen again, you were still hopeful that you'd be able to continue to help him. You also wanted to save him the further embarrassment of knowing that this was far from the first occurrence.

“Let's just call it a night and I'll deal with it tomorrow, okay?”

She opens her mouth to respond, but you end the conversation with a quick goodnight and hurry onto your room.

Behind the confines of your bedroom walls, you unhook the towel from around your chest and let it drop to the floor before belly-flopping onto the cool velvet fabric of your duvet. You release a muffled groan into the bed before rolling over and staring up at your ceiling. You hope that no one needs you for the duration of the night, because you are too physically exhausted to walk five feet away to get pajamas from your dresser.

Despite feeling frustrated and hurt at how the interaction with Logan had just gone, you worry for him. You worry that he'll have another nightmare tonight, or that he'll keep himself awake out of fear that he'll have another one. You worry that the friendship that you've developed over the course of the last few months will be affected by tonight's encounter, and as silly as it may be - you worry that he'll feel weird around you after waking up to find you in his bedroom in only a towel in the middle of the night.

The last thing you remember thinking before finally falling asleep is that you wish you could use your powers on yourself to ease your own anxiety.

••••••

The next morning, you smell coffee and hints of vanilla and cinnamon before you're halfway to the kitchen.

This is surprising to you for two reasons - one being that you're typically the one who brews the coffee and starts breakfast. Two being that you expected an empty house this morning. Colossus is usually out with the trainees on Friday mornings, and Wade had told you right before you left for Ontario a few days ago that he, Laura and Logan would be visiting their old roommate - Althea, or Blind Al, as Wade so lovingly calls her - today.

You come to a halt when you enter the kitchen and see who's responsible for the aroma.

With his back turned to you as he pulls a dish out of the oven, you instinctively pull the plush robe that you wear tighter around you as you are hit with the memory of what you wore in his bedroom last night all over again.

“Good morning,” you greet him in a neutral tone as you pull your favorite mug from the cabinet. “Smells good,” you add lightheartedly, not looking in his direction as you pour yourself some coffee.

“Yeah, well,” Logan starts with an awkward clear of his throat. “They're for you.”

Your head snaps to where he's leaning against the kitchen island, next to a circular glass dish filled with fresh cinnamon rolls. It's not as if it's some grand declaration of love - but it turns your stomach into a butterfly garden all the same.

“They're just from a can,” he shrugs, staring down at the pastries to avoid your gaze that's now locked on him. “Probably can't compare to the ones you bake from scratch. It's definitely no steak and eggs like you made for us last weekend–”

“Thank you,” you interrupt him to stop his rambling. You don't need to seek his emotions to know that he is nervous - it's apparent in both his voice and his posture. In fact, you don't think you've seen Logan as visibly on edge since you met him. “This is very thoughtful of you. I woke up starving this morning.”

“I figured you would be after your late night.” He opens a cabinet and pulls out two small plates. “And I just wanted to apologize for.. that.” Waves of embarrassment wash from where he stands just a few feet from you.

You take a step closer to him as he extends a plate to you. “You don't have to apologize, Logan,” you assure him in a gentle voice as you accept the ceramic plate and turn back to the cinnamon rolls. “There's nothing to be sorry for.”

“There is, though. You were only trying to help me and I snapped at you. You didn't deserve that, sweetheart.”

“Well, no,” you shrug with a mouthful of bread and icing, hoping that he couldn’t detect the way your heart skipped a beat at the pet name. “I didn’t. But you were startled, and confused. You woke up from a horrible nightmare and the first thing you saw was me hovering over you. I don’t blame you for reacting poorly.”

He takes a step closer to you, digging into the dish to serve himself. There's still mild undertones of embarrassment breaking through the barrier of his emotions, but the main thing that you're feeling from him is relief.

“I talked to Laura before she left this morning,” he says with a fresh hint of nervousness. “She told me what you've been doing for me for the last few months,” he confesses, pausing for your response. You would feel nervous yourself, if it weren't for your ability to know that he isn't feeling any kind of anger.

You're surprisingly relieved that Laura had filled him in on what had become your nightly routine. You knew from the beginning that it was only a matter of how and when he'd realize what was going on. You didn’t like feeling like you were hiding something so intimate from him.

“I'm sorry we didn't tell you,” you sigh. “We just.. didn't want you to feel bad. And we were worried that you would–”

“React exactly how I did?”

You exhale a small laugh through your nose. “Yeah,” you admit. “Something like that.”

“I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. For all of it. For waking you up every night, for snapping at you, for–”

“Logan, really,” you stop him, setting your cup of coffee down to bring your hand to where his is gripping onto the edge of the marble countertop. You give it a reassuring squeeze, and don't pull away as you look up at him. “Please don't apologize. I wanted to help you. It's what people do when they care about you, you know? And you deserve a peaceful night's sleep as much as the rest of us do.”

“If you won't let me apologize, will you at least let me say thank you?”

You smile up at him, reluctantly pulling your hand away from his. You can't help but notice a small note of disappointment emanating from him when your skin breaks contact with him.

“You don't need to thank me either, but..” you hesitate, suddenly feeling a pit of anxiousness in your stomach at what you're about to ask him next. “Now that you know what's been going on the last few months, maybe there’s something you'd be willing to let me try?”

“And what would that be, sweetheart?”

••••••

Later that evening, after the sun has set and your friends have all retired to their private spaces for the night, you make your way to Logan's bedroom under much different circumstances than the previous night.

Tonight, if all goes well, you won't have to worry about startling him from a night terror ridden slumber. Tonight, you are going to attempt to prevent the bad dreams before they can begin tormenting him in the first place.

You were pleasantly surprised when he agreed to your idea as soon as you suggested it. You expected him to reject the offer of help - as he is so naturally prone to doing. You thought that you'd have to try to convince him that he's worthy of this effort. Although he seemed uncertain that this would work, he was willing to give it a shot because he trusts you.

You hesitate for a moment before working up the courage to give a soft knock to his bedroom door. He opens up almost instantly, revealing himself in dark gray sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt with hair that still glistens wet from a recent shower.

You'd be lying if you said the sight didn't make your stomach do somersaults, but you quickly clear your throat, reminding yourself why you're here.

He seems to take in your appearance, too - his eyes trailing from your painted white toenails that peak out from your fuzzy slippers and up to your matching black pajama shorts and tank top.

“Well, you look quite a bit different than you did the last time you were here,” he observes with the kind of smile that brings out the laugh lines around his eyes. He opens the door further, allowing you to walk past him and into the cozy yet minimally decorated space.

“Thought I'd spare you the shock of the towel this time,” you retort, your cheeks heating at the memory. He closes the door behind him and follows you into the room. “So uh, how exactly are you proposing that we go about this?”

You take in the state of his bed - you would never guess that his claws had shredded multiple large gashes down it less than twenty-four hours ago. He must have flipped it over and hoped for the best. You take an apprehensive seat on the edge of the mattress, nervously wringing your hands together.

“Well,” you begin as he takes a seat next to you at the end of the bed. His body is angled so that his knee brushes the skin of yours ever so lightly. “Last night proved that for whatever reason, your nightmares are becoming harder for me to get under control. Maybe with my powers, I can help you relax enough so that you don’t have those kinds of dreams at all.”

You can’t help but doubt yourself - you’ve never done anything like this before, and you truly have no idea if it will be effective. You’re worried that you’ll disappoint yourself and Logan both. Earlier, he seemed apprehensive, too - but sitting here with him now, you’re not feeling any sense of uncertainty from him. Only from yourself.

As if he can feel your hesitation, he takes your hand in his and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Just tell me whatever you need me to do, and I’ll do it.”

You nod, pushing down the feelings that flood through you at the knowledge that not only does he trust you, but he believes in you - enough to help him with such a vulnerable part of himself.

“Okay,” you say, reluctantly pulling your hand from him as you begin to scoot up his bed, so that you’re in the middle of the mattress. You cross your legs at the ankles, and motion for him to follow your lead. He moves to sit directly in front of you, copying your position and sitting so that both of his knees touch yours. You hold out your hands, palms up, and he takes them in his own. You can’t help but think that if any of your friends were to walk in, it would look like the two of you were performing a seance.

“We can stop anytime that you want to,” you remind him. “If at any point you’re uncomfortable and you want to stop, just say the word.” He gives you a small nod and another reassuring squeeze to each hand as your sign to continue.

“I’d like you to start by thinking of whatever it is that you’ve been seeing in your nightmares. You don’t have to talk about it,” you assure him quickly when you feel a spark of anxiety flicker where your hands rest in his. You notice that his jaw clenches at the notion of dwelling on what torments him in his sleep. “Just replay some key images in your head, and leave the rest to me. I’m going to read your emotions and attempt to use my powers to alter them to something more positive. It may take a few sessions of practicing this for it to be effective, but I’m hopeful that we can train your brain to not panic at what you’re seeing in your nightmares.” You pause, giving him a chance to ask questions - or tell you to get lost and forget it.

“Replace panic with peace. Got it.”

“Close your eyes,” you instruct him gently. He obeys without hesitation, though you can't help but notice the small surge of unease that begins to flow from his palms into yours. You counteract the feeling right away, sending back a wave of calm in its place. You watch as he unclenches his jaw and unforrows his brows - a clear indication that he's feeling the energy that you're emitting.

“Now think about your nightmares. Start with your most recent one. Try to remember as many details as possible. I'll be right here, holding your hand and helping you through it,” you encourage him in a soft voice, tightening your hold on his hands.

You begin to release a slow, steady stream of tranquility that flows from your fingertips and into his body. You know that he's doing as you have asked him to do - you can tell he's replaying the images of his latest nightmare by the way it feels as if something is pushing back against your powers.

Guilt, fear, and hopelessness - all push back against their counterparts that you try to instill in him. He grips your hands tighter, the hold on them borderline uncomfortable, but you keep still and allow him to anchor himself to you.

You find yourself thankful that you can't physically see the images that he's working through. The negative emotions that accompany the thoughts is enough for you to know that whatever he's seeing, it's far from pretty.

“You're doing good, Logan,” you offer in a small whisper. You're not even sure if he hears you - he's focused, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. You send a more powerful wave of energy to him and watch as his shoulders slouch in relaxation. You can still feel the pain that radiates beneath your power as it flows through his being - but it’s dull; muted.

“We’re going to switch it up now,” you say louder. “I’m going to continue exactly what I’m doing, but instead of thinking of your nightmares, I want you to think of something happy. Your favorite place, your friends, a good memory - anything that makes you happy.”

His eyes stay closed, but he gives a small nod of his head to let you know that he’s hearing you.

There’s a noticeable shift in the emotional energy that courses through him. His fear fades to joy, dread is replaced with hope. With the positive emotions being amplified by your powers, a faint smile grows across his face and a hint of rosy pink blooms on the apples of his cheeks. Now, you wish you could see whatever it is he's thinking of.

You can't help the smile that forms on your own face, soaking in the moment where he's possibly the most carefree that you've ever seen him.

“I'm going to pull away now,” you tell him gently. You feel a pang of disappointment - it's hard to tell who it comes from. His feelings have bled so thoroughly into your own.

You slowly pull your hands away from his and his eyes snap open at the loss of your emotional influence.

“What do you think?” You almost ask him how he feels - but you stop yourself, already knowing the answer to that.

“I think that you're fucking incredible,” he answers bluntly, his hazel eyes staring at you in awe. You feel your cheeks warm at the compliment, hoping that he didn't hear the way your heart all but stopped in your chest. “I've never felt anything quite like that. Even if I do still have a nightmare tonight.. It was nice to feel so at peace, even just temporarily.”

You’re taken aback by the sincerity of his words. “It’s okay if it doesn't work,” you tell him. “We can try again tomorrow. And I'll be right down the hall if you need me tonight. Okay?” You uncross your legs, hopping off of his bed. You start to wish him goodnight when he grabs your hand in his once more. It feels different than just a moment ago - more intimate.

“Thank you,” he tells you before reluctantly dropping your hand. “For doing this for me - for trying.”

“Of course,” you murmur. You feel lightheaded - you don’t know if it’s from exerting so much of your powers, his words, or the feeling of his hand in yours, but the air in his room feels suffocating and your skin feels flushed. “Goodnight, Logan.”

You give him a soft smile, and then dash out of his room before he can say anything else, closing his door behind you.

After you’ve power walked back to your own room, you spend a while decompressing before even trying to fall asleep - Logan’s words, feelings, and touch replaying through your mind on an infinite loop.

You don’t know exactly how long you spend tossing and turning beneath your sheets before your brain finally gives into sleep. When you wake up, you’re not sure what time it is - your room is dark except for the moonlight that trickles in through your window. You sit up and look around your room, confused as to what woke you up in the first place when a gentle knock sounds from the other side of your door. The soft call of your name from a voice that you recognize right away has you throwing your covers back and all but jumping out of your bed to go open your door.

“Logan,” you exhale in a sleep-ridden voice, eyeing him from head to toe as if to make sure he’s okay. He stands before you in the same sweatpants and t-shirt as earlier, though his hair looks far more ruffled than when you saw him just before bed. “I'm sorry, I didn't hear you wake up. I'm normally a light sleep–”

“I think what we did earlier is helping,” he interrupts you. That's when you notice it - there's no fear radiating from him. Instead, you feel a prickle of hope. “I did start to have a nightmare,” he continues. “But I didn't… I didn't feel trapped in it. I was able to pull myself out of it before it escalated.”

You take a step forward, raising your arms to him and pulling him towards you by his shoulders. It takes him a second to process what is happening, but then he wraps his arms around your waist and returns your embrace in a tight hold, nearly lifting you off the ground.

“That's amazing, Logan. I'm so glad,” you murmur next to his ear. You don't even care that it's the middle of the night. After how many times you've woken up to the sound of his tortured screams, you're happy to instead wake up to him standing at your bedroom door with good news.

He pulls his head back enough to look down at you, but doesn't release his hold around you. Your face is so close to his that you can make out your reflection in his eyes. Your gaze flickers to his lips for a split-second before his voice snaps you back to reality.

“I'm sorry,” he says, suddenly overcome with a rush of embarrassment. “I shouldn't have woken you up for that,” he all but whispers. “I was just having a hard time falling back asleep and I selfishly wanted to see–”

“Do you want to come lie down with me?”

You can tell the question takes him by surprise. His hazel eyes widen and you can feel the shock that surges through him at the proposal. “No big deal if not,” you add quickly. “I could try to help you fall back asleep.”

His hold on you tightens, and you're hit with a wave of different emotions that answer before he can reply.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he grins down at you. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

Before your nerves can get the better of you, you grab him by the hand and pull him through the doorway. He pulls it shut on his way in - the click of the bolt making reality set in.

You don't let go of his hand as you guide him to your bed through the darkness of your room. You crawl onto the mattress and scoot to the opposite side, letting him take the spot where you'd previously been asleep. You hold your comforter open for him as he crawls in next to you. Your king size bed, which normally feels ginormous with only you to occupy it, suddenly feels less than half its actual size. He's not even touching you and you can feel the heat radiate from Logan's body underneath the blanket that you now share.

You're torn. On one hand, you want nothing more than to sink into that warmth and feel him pressed against you as you lull him back to sleep. On the other hand, you don't want to cross any boundaries that can't be uncrossed.

“How do you want me?”

Goddamn. As if your heart isn't already beating a mile a minute, he has to phrase it like that?

You turn away from him, hoping you won’t be able to smell the intoxicating hints of his Old Spice deodorant if you face the opposite direction of him.

“However you're comfortable,” you whisper to conceal any strain in your voice. “Just give me your hand,” you instruct as you reach a hand over your side to where he's nestled behind you. He rolls onto his side so that his chest is a mere few inches from pressing against your back. His large hand clasps around yours.

Forget skipping a beat - your heart all but stops in your chest at what washes over you.

It's faint - as if he's trying his hardest to push it down so that you won't realize that it's there.

Longing.

He exhales, his breath fanning across the exposed skin of your shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“I thought of you, you know.”

“What?” You lift your head off of the pillow, turning back to look at him in the illumination of the full moon that pours into your room from your open curtains. His face is just inches away from yours from where he lays behind you. “What do you mean?”

“When you asked me to think of something that makes me happy. Every happy memory that flashed through my mind, they were all from the last few months. And they all involved you.” He pauses, rubbing circles across the side of your hand with his thumb.

Longing. Desire. Yearning. They all bubble over and bleed together - his, and your own.

“I thought of the first time we showed up here and you took us in with open arms. I thought of the time I walked into the living room to find you teaching Laura to braid her hair.. and all of the times that you've cooked for us. I could've picked any moment, really. Any moment with you since I met you would've worked.”

“Logan,” you breathe in an almost whiney voice. “Logan, I–”

“Tell me how I'm feeling right now, sweetheart.”

You turn over to your other side so that you're facing him. You prop your head up in one hand, and bring your other to his face that still rests on your pillow. You cradle his jaw in your palm, grazing his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb.

“You feel the same way that I do.”

You're not sure if you lean down to him, or if he raises his head to meet yours - all you know is that his lips are moving with yours and his hand is on your lower back, pulling you flush against him and closing what little space is left between your bodies.

He kisses you hungrily, a mess of tongue and teeth that makes your brain turn to static. His beard and mustache tickles the soft skin of your face in a way that leaves you wanting more, more, more.

He hooks his hand under the curve of your ass and hikes your thigh over his own, maneuvering you over his body while keeping his lips locked with yours. With both of his hands planted firmly on your hips, you're now straddling him and feel the evident bulge of an erection through the thin material of his sweatpants and your pajama shorts.

He breaks the kiss, leaving you wanting and breathless above him.

“We can stop right now, if that's what you want,” he whispers - his voice sounds strained, as if the thought alone pains him. “We don't have to go any fur–”

“I don't want to stop.” And to reinforce that sentiment, you grind your core down against his hard length. He releases a noise that’s akin to a growl, sounding from deep in his chest. He grabs you by the shoulders as he raises off of the pillow, shooting into a sitting position and crushing his lips to yours again.

Even with you straddling his lap and your tongues taking turns exploring each other's mouths, you still need him closer - need to feel more of him. You snake your hands between your bodies, gripping onto the hem of his t-shirt and tugging upwards. You break your lips away from his to pull the fabric over his head. As soon as you've tossed the shirt across the room, he's copying the exact motions on you, discarding your tank top.

He grasps a breast in one hand, roughly palming it as he takes the other in his mouth. He tugs your nipple between his teeth, hardening it before soothing it over with his tongue. You encourage him with soft rolls of your hips over the bulge in his pants.

Logan lifts you off of his lap, flipping the two of you over so that you now lay flat against the mattress, underneath him. He hooks his fingers into both the waistband of your pajama bottoms and panties and begins to ease them down your thighs.

“Gotta get you out of these little shorts,” he murmurs, pulling them over your ankles and leaving you completely bare for him.

“Logan, please,” you whimper. You don't even quite know what you're begging for - but he does. He reads you like an open book.

“I know, sweetheart. ‘M gonna take care of you.”

His words send an intense gush of arousal to your core. He pushes your thighs apart at the knees and nestles himself between them, bringing his face level with your pussy.

Your hands fly to his head as his tongue makes contact with your clit. You weave your fingers through the short tufts of his hair, clenching your thighs around the sides of his head as he works the swollen nub with his mouth.

He licks lazy strips from your clit down to your hole and then brings his middle finger to your entrance, swirling it around in your slick before easing it inside you. He groans at your taste and the feeling of your walls constricting around his finger, sending vibrations through your body.

He increases the speed at which he pumps his long finger into your cunt, each time drawing a more sinful moan from you. You buck your hips to meet the thrusts of his finger, chasing the building warmth in your lower belly as it builds and builds.

His tongue laps through your folds and he adds a second finger to his movements. Maybe it's due to the fact that you can feel waves of his arousal in addition to your own and it's amplifying your pleasure, or maybe he's just that fucking good with his fingers and tongue - but you can feel yourself soaking the sheets beneath you. The room is filled with the wet echoes of your walls gushing around his fingers in the silence of the night, and you find yourself thankful that there's several empty rooms in between yours and the other people that you share this mansion with.

He brings his free hand up to your breast and rolls your nipple between his fingers and it sends you crashing around him. The white hot coil in your belly snaps and you cum around his face with a low cry of his name.

He sits up on his knees when you've stopped writhing above him, yanking his sweatpants and boxers down. He pumps his length in his hand that's soaked with your juices, lubricating himself with your essence before he's even inside you.

“Sweet girl,” he coos as he stares down at you in the limited view of the moonlight. “Taste how sweet you are.”

Hovering above you, he props himself up on his forearm and brings his free hand to your chin, tugging on your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Open your mouth for me.”

Feeling drunk in your post-orgasm haze, you don't hesitate to do exactly as he asks of you. You eagerly part your lips wide for him and he hums in satisfaction before releasing a thick drop of his spit from his mouth into yours. It falls on your tongue and you close your mouth, reveling in the flavor of your juices mixed with the flavor of him. You groan at the taste and pull him back down to you by the back of his neck, molding your lips to his.

His cock juts against your folds, torturously teasing you before finally sinking his head past your entrance. You gasp into the kiss as he buries himself to the hilt, stilling momentarily to let you adjust to his size.

“Fuck, Logan,” you groan into his mouth when he begins to move again, pulling half of his length out before easing back in at a steady pace. “So big. Don't know if I can–”

“You can,” he interrupts, and to prove his point he fills you all the way up again. His head rams against your cervix and takes your breath away. “See? You're doing such a good job, honey.”

You've never felt so full before. You swear you can feel him in your stomach. He starts to rock in and out of you, slowly as you acclimate to the fullness of him. He kisses you through it, drinking in each whimper and moan that he draws from you.

“So tight and wet for me,” he grunts when he pulls away from your mouth. He brings one of his hands down to where your body meets his, placing his thumb directly over your swollen clit and begins to rub you with fast, pressured circles that have your cunt clenching around him.

“Close,” you grunt out in between moans of his name. “I'm so close.” He rocks into you harder, making you see stars when he hits that sweet spot just right.

“Gonna cum around my cock?” He mutters between gritted teeth as your walls flutter around him. “Yeah, you are. I can feel it.”

His thrusts become erratic and you know he's right behind you. A few more hard thrusts that have your headboard slamming against the wall and you're cumming around him as he spills into you.

He goes still inside you as you both regain a normal pattern of breathing. He gives you one, two, three wet, open-mouth kisses down your throat before pulling out of you. You whimper at the sudden lack of fullness, already missing the way he fits inside you.

He flops down beside you on the mattress and tugs you into his side, your head coming to rest just above his rapidly beating heart.

“I think I should be able to sleep just fine after that,” he exhales. He trails his fingertips down the exposed skin of your arm. You grab his other hand in yours and pull it up to your mouth, where you plant kisses on each of his knuckles.

“Probably,” you whisper with a laugh. “I think you should probably stay here with me, though. Just in case.” You don't have to look up to know that he's smirking down at you - you can tell by the way he's feeling.

Light. Carefree. Happy. Loved.

“I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

♡♡♡♡♡

thanks for reading!!! as always comments & reblogs are so appreciated 🫶🏻

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x you #logan howlett oneshot #logan howlett fanfiction

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lovelookspretty · 2 days

Text

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: a really long chapter part thing i fear . kisses .. maybe .. IM NOT SPOILING THIS

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authors note: erm guys .. if im rushing this then do NOT pay attention !! I WANT THEM TO BE OKAY AGAIN JUST LIKE U GUYS I FEAR. I CANT HELP MYSELF. but do NOT think this is the end because this is NOT!! we still have to get through the rest of the second week + the wedding. and if u think about it, DAMN a lot happened in week 1 omg goodnight

anyway, if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3333

you keep your distance from him the next two days. you know you have to face him, and sometimes you do, but you’re stiffer than before. he knows better than anyone to maintain that gap until you’re okay again.

it just feels like your breakup with him all over again, but this time, for a different reason other than having too much time apart. this time, you’re all he spends time with but there just happens to be something getting in the way of that. another girl. it isn’t fair.

drew’s been trying to show in little ways that he’s sorry, but it doesn’t cut it for you. not yet. and you don’t want to lead him by a string and take advantage of him caring about you. but him bringing you breakfast, then trying to avoid you throughout the day until you’re back in libby’s bed again—it’s just frustrating.

you don’t even want to be there anymore. you don’t want to have to deal with this. but it’s for leila and theo, their day is coming up soon. you just want them to have a good time and then you can all separate ways and live your own lives again. how it’s always been and how it should be.

the guys are getting ready to visit town while the girls stay back. this isn’t for you though, and you’re grateful. gia proposed a self-care day after a package was shipped to the home, a large box of cookies, and safe to say you all agreed to the plan.

“i’ve been trying to get back into reading but i feel like i have no time sometimes,” leila’s telling you and the girls as you set up shop at the kitchen island.

there’s an array of face masks, moisturizers, rollers, oils, creams, other things they’ve wanted to try. gia even brings her diffuser and places it nearby as the tv in the living room plays.

“i recommend ‘doomsday’!” libby perks up from across the table. “i read it last summer and let me tell you, i bawled crying for a month straight.”

“y/n, you read,” leila says as she files her nails, crossing a leg over another. “what are your recommendations?”

“hey,” theo greets leila as he and the boys join you four at the table, each with their respective girlfriend besides libby and oscar, and technically you and drew. he hovers behind you but just merely nods his head to say hello. “we’re gonna head out.”

“oh, okay,” leila says with a small frown, but kisses him goodbye. “drive safe, alright?” you’re winking at roman who points at you to say to behave, but he kisses gia’s cheek before he’s following theo out.

you answer leila from earlier with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting to find ‘the last love letter’ but i haven’t really been reading lately. been too busy.”

gia mouth gapes open as she slams her hand on the table, nearly knocking something over. “shut up, i’ve been wanting to read that too!” she shrieks as libby tells her to be more careful.

you can only giggle at her while she gets off her seat and comes up behind you to pull your hair and tie it back.

“that book is literally nowhere, i swear the author only made like five copies of it.”

“have you guys read ‘self sabotage’?” leila asks as she and libby, already prepared, begin to place their face masks on.

you’re on the couch with the girls as libby records you on her phone. the box of cookies are opened and after careful review, you’ve all decided what to try first and what comes after that, and so on.

“now?” you ask libby if she’s ready, and she nods. you, leila, and gia take a cautious bite out of the pieces you’ve broken off of the first cookie. it only takes you a few chews in to realize how heavenly it is. gia even pretends to faint beside you.

“holy shit,” leila says as she covers her mouth, taking a look at the cookie with wide eyes. “are you serious?”

libby lunges at you with her phone to take it from her, “well now i wanna try it!”

you’re in a fit of laughter as you try to turn the camera around before she can sink her teeth in, but she’s too fast. your eyes widen at the girl, “libby, slow down!”

and eventually, you’re full of cookies and half of them are still yet to be tried. you agree with the girls to continue this matter tomorrow if the boys don’t eat it all themselves, and you know they will. you’re just glad you’ve already tried all the ones you really wanted to before then.

when the guys get home, it’s exactly what you anticipated. they bee line directly to the cookies on the coffee table, but not without greeting you all first.

theo groans as he takes a bite, roman right beside him to stuff a whole chunk in his mouth. “this is better than sex,” he murmurs while roman snaps his fingers several times. leila can’t help but nod in agreement.

“i feel cookie-drunk,” you say with your hand on your stomach, and gia curls up into your side as she holds onto hers. “what’d you guys get?”

roman is quick to reach into his bag and pull out a couple of keychains, as if he just got reminded about something. he tosses one at gia’s head, and you look over to see what it is.

“the world’s okayest girlfriend,” she reads aloud, and she chucks it back at him, no longer accepting the gift that roman laughs about. she gets up to see what else is in his bag, leaving drew to plop down next to you and libby, who’s on the other side of you this whole time.

she’s cleaning the ice cream off her spoon when she speaks up for you and her, “what’d you get?”

“few things,” he says as he lets you look inside for yourself.

you pull out a long box and open it. it’s a chain bracelet, sterling silver. it’s nice, and you nod with raised brows. there’s other things inside that you only glance at, but when you look up at him you notice the new pair of sunglasses that’s resting on his head.

you pull it off of him silently and place it on yourself, unspokenly thanking him for the temporary gift you’ll give back later but you like them so now they’re yours for a few hours.

drew purses his lips and closes his bag, assuming you’re done, so he gets up and starts heading upstairs. you look over at libby. without hesitation, she asks, “you okay?”

you hesitate, and you know she’s only asking this because this is one of drew’s brief interactions with you since a few days ago. but you shrug it off, “yeah, i’m okay,” you say.

libby doesn’t miss a beat, she’s not convinced at all. she knows you well enough to understand what ‘im okay’ really means is ‘i’ll be okay’. that it’s not okay, but it will be eventually.

she’s seen this look on you before, during the hardest parts of your relationship with drew. she can feel the unspoken words between them, the ones you don’t even need to say out loud.

“right,” libby says with a soft sigh. she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. “you’ll be alright,” she whispers. you know she won’t pry further, but knowing that whatever drew did, it was enough to hurt you again.

after a few moments, she pulls back and, with a small smile, asks, “wanna help me with dinner soon? leila thought it’d be nice to eat out in the backyard tonight, by the pool.”

you hum softly, nodding your head, “yeah, that sounds good.”

libby grins, “awesome. ‘cause it’s pizza night and i cannot do it alone.”

the next few hours blur together. you’ve successfully prepared the pizzas with libby and slid them into the oven. now you’re cutting into them and displaying them outside on the table.

it used to be bare, but someone since morning has gone out there to help decorate the backyard to make it just a little flashier. there’s a cloth on the table, which is scattered with candles, flowers, dishes, platters of cookies, fruits, a charcuterie board, and there’s a helpful variety of drinks.

fairy lights blink across the backyard, even over the pool, and it illuminates the whole place. you place the different pizzas in between each candle piece, which libby lights as you do. when you call everyone outside, you join together at the table.

and once theo leads you once again with the ‘i’m grateful for my future wife’ shit, you get to dig in. you’re pretty sure it was longer this time around and even roman started to just eat until he was kicked under the table by drew.

“fucking finally,” libby murmurs under her breath after theo concludes his speech, to which causes him to pick up an olive off the plate and toss it at her. “yeah, you’re so lucky i like olives,” she whispers to herself as she rearranges her napkin, “fucking loser.”

“libby,” you scold, though you can’t hide your laugh. she’s grinning when she looks up, silently laughing with you.

when you turn to drew on the other side of you, he’s taking large bites from his slice. he tilts his head back with a groan, then takes a longer look at the pizza as he chews.

“s’it good?” you ask, and he nods rapidly, and soon his body moves with it. you bring yourself to smile, grateful that people you care about like what you’ve cooked.

you reach over to take your own slice from each pizza and just stack it on your plate, planning on going through them one by one from the one on too being the one you least want to eat, and the last at the bottom being the one you’re most excited for—a ‘save the best for last’ type of thing. it’s silly but you do it anyway.

drew’s finishing up his bite when he leans into you gently. “i have to talk to you later, by the way,” he says, and it sort of startles you because at this point you’re just talking to libby.

you look at him with furrowed brows, but again, you’re not mad. you’re not upset with him. at least not in this moment, you can’t be.

and it looks like he’s grateful because he can see it too. “if that’s alright with you,” he says, then takes another bite. you just nod at him in silence, and watch as he turns back to oscar who’s on his other side before talking to him.

you look straight ahead where roman’s sitting, and he sends you a look. he heard drew talking to you, he knows it must be about something important, but it’s not what’s on your mind right now.

you shrug it off. “—tell you later,” you mouth to him, then turn to libby when you realize she’s talking to you again.

after dinner, gia and leila clean dishes while literally all of the guys clean up outside as a thank you to you and libby, who lay across the living room with bellies filled with food.

there’s a movie playing on tv that you can barely pay attention to, but you’ve been laying there for about an hour so if you really want to, you could. you just play into the laziness that you’re allowed.

you hold your phone above you as libby rolls around the carpet, or at least that’s what you last saw her doing before you looked away. you’re scrolling through texts with your manager as if a new message will come in.

“did elyse get back to you?” libby asks, a face-full of carpet and it sounds like she’s just a few feet away. “about the thing.”

“no,” you mumble, then turn your phone off and set it face-down on the carpet, just like libby. the side of your head is laying on your arm as you look at her. “i could go for another cookie.”

“you ate three!” libby’s muffled voice raises.

“and i’ll make it four,” you tell her, raising your volume back. you consider getting up but don’t feel like it. you can actually lay here forever—maybe.

“y/n,” you hear his voice. it’s drew.

and you get up immediately. he was so softspoken, so cautious with you. he’s entering the house with the other boys who must’ve finished outside, meaning it’s time to have his talk. you almost ask if you guys can just have it there if it’s not that important, but if that’s possible then he wouldn’t be trying to get you alone.

you look over to libby, who—at the sound of drew’s voice—peeked her eyes out to see what he wanted. she looks to you, and she understands why you have to go. she convinces herself to get up and find the remote so she can turn the volume up.

you know it’s for you and drew, and a part of you wants to nudge her or be offended, and you do. is this going to be normal behavior in the house? turning up the volume just for you and drew when you guys need to have these ‘talks’ that are just screaming practice in disguise?

you’re almost embarrassed but you know that you’d rather have this than let them hear you two upstairs.

you follow him to your room, or technically his room as of three nights ago, and he lets you inside first. there’s a chilling feeling when you realize what’s about to happen and you feel like he’s literally about to murder you.

the room is clean, for the most part. you didn’t doubt for a second that he wouldn’t take care of this room regardless if you’re in it or not. his bed isn’t made and his backpack’s on the edge of it, opened and rifled through.

you look to him when you’ve entered, and he nods toward the bed, as if to say he would rather you sit there while you listen to what he has to say, so slowly, you make your way over and settle down on the edge.

drew pulls out a chair from the desk across the bed and turns it around, pushing it closer to you. you’re surprised that he’s doing a whole setup just to talk to you. maybe he really is going to kill you.

“i haven’t been honest at all . . . since we started talking again,” he begins as he sits down in front of you. you stay there and close your mouth. you want to hear what he has to say, even if it ends terribly. you need to hear what he’s been thinking. “so i’d like to tell you everything about this past year if you’re okay with that.”

you shrug and gesture to let him have the floor. “please,” you insist with a nod.

he sighs as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “there’s . . . mila," he starts, and even though you knew this conversation was coming, it still stings when you hear her name.

“i guess you could call it a situationship or whatever,” he says before he catches himself, realizing how that sounds. “i mean, to me, it felt like that. but i think—” he pauses, chewing on his words. “no, she definitely saw it as more. she always viewed it as a relationship.” he glances at you, watching for your reaction, but you just sit there, waiting.

he rubs a hand over his face, frustrated with himself. “we just weren’t on the same page. i was . . . i was using it to distract myself, if i’m being honest. and i know that’s not fair. i knew it even then. but it felt easier than than facing what i was actually feeling at the time.”

he continues, “i told myself it was nothing, but i knew, deep down, it wasn’t fair to her. she didn’t deserve to be strung along like that.”

you feel your chest tighten, but not from jealousy. it’s you knowing that someone else had been hurt in this too, someone who had clearly thought there was more between them. “does she know? about this?” you ask him.

he flinches slightly, as if the concern you’re showing for mila makes this even harder to explain for him. he hesitates, “i officially ended things with her three nights ago. the night you confronted me about her. i told her it was over, that i couldn’t keep pretending things were fine when they weren’t. she didn’t take it well. and honestly, i don’t blame her.”

you’re quiet for a moment—so he’s decided to keep you and him a secret from mila? to spare both his and her feelings? you aren’t sure if you should bring light to it or just push it aside. you did say before that it was ultimately his decision.

“i’m glad you told her,” you say carefully, but there's a pause before you add, "but i can’t imagine how confusing this must be for her.” you shift in your seat, rubbing your palms on your knees. “i mean, from her perspective, this whole thing must feel like it came out of nowhere.”

he swallows hard, nodding. “yeah, it wasn’t fair to her. not at all.”

there’s a beat. he looks at you, his expression more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time. “i told her about you,” he says. he’s quiet, as if he’s afraid of the confession. “i told her that i’m . . . that i’m still not over you. that i don’t think i ever really was.”

what?

you blink, startled by his words, though in a way, you’re not entirely surprised. you’ve felt the tension between you two from the moment you started talking again, but hearing him admit it, finally saying it out loud . . .

his voice is rough, like he’s forcing himself to continue. “but that’s why things with mila were never real. not for me, at least. i kept telling myself i could move on, that i could just forget, but every day i’d realize i wasn’t. i couldn’t let go of you.”

“but you broke up with me, drew,” you remind him. “that doesn’t necessarily sound like you’re in love with me.”

“i didn’t break up with you because i didn’t love you,” he says, his brows furrowed. “i do, more than i’ve ever loved anyone else.” his eyes meet yours briefly before dropping to his hands, which he’s fiddling with in his lap. “like, it was the opposite. i felt like i wasn’t enough for you. like i was failing you.”

you feel your breath hitch in your throat, but you don’t interrupt. you sit up on the bed.

he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he speaks. “our jobs, the schedules, the distance . . . it was tearing us apart, you know? and every day, i’d think about how i wasn’t giving you what you deserved. we were supposed to click, supposed to last, but i felt like i was just holding you back.” his voice is quiet, and he rubs his forehead slowly. “and i couldn’t stand the thought of you waiting for me when i could never give you the time you needed. it was eating me alive.”

you stay quiet, but tears prick at the corners of your eyes. his words hit hard, and you feel like everything that was left unsaid was finally coming to light now—there were arguments that could’ve been avoided, the misunderstandings that built up. he was overthinking, spiraling, and instead of talking to you, he made the decision for both of you.

“and i just kept thinking, like . . . ‘she deserves someone who can be there for her, really be there. someone who can come home to her every night’. i wasn’t that guy. i’d go days without seeing you, weeks even, and it broke me.” he swallows hard again, shaking his head. “i convinced myself that you’d be happier with someone else. someone who wasn’t always on some stupid set, always busy.”

your heart aches as you watch him, his guilt written all over his face. you lean forward and whisper, “but you don’t get to decide that for me, drew. we make decisions together. or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”

“i know,” he mutters, his tone regretful. “i know that now. but back then, i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought i was . . . protecting you, i guess. from me.”

you shake your head, wiping at the tears that are now falling freely. “protecting me from you? drew, i never, ever wanted anyone else. i wanted you. i didn’t care about the schedules, or the distance. i would’ve waited, and we could’ve figured it out. together.”

his eyes finally meet yours again, and for the first time, you can see the depth of his regret. “when we broke up, i tried. god, i tried to move on. i tried to find something, you know? but i was always looking for you.” he takes a shaky breath. “every girl i met, i’d compare them to you. i’d look for pieces of you in them, trying to find something familiar, something that felt right. but it never worked.”

you knew he had tried to move on, but hearing that he was always searching for you in others, that no one ever compared. it leaves you speechless for a moment. if that’s what happened, then why invest so much time into mila?

you finally gather the courage to ask, “mila. did she . . . was she like me?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but you need to know.

“no,” he admits, shaking his head. “not really. mila was cool, and she’s . . . she’s great in her own way. but no. she wasn’t like you.” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. "but i remember i wanted her to be."

he didn’t try to replace you with mila, but it was clear that he had been searching for something, anything, to fill the void you left behind. and it never worked.

“no one’s ever going to compare to you, y/n,” he continues, “i realize that now. it took me a while, but i’ll always search for you in everyone, and it’s never going to be the same. it’ll never feel the way it felt with you."

for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re finally getting the truth. the real, unfiltered truth about why things ended the way they did. he wasn’t running because he didn’t care. he was running because he thought he wasn’t enough for you. and now, he’s sitting here, telling you everything he couldn’t say before.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper now, on the verge of crying. “i’m sorry for walking away. for not talking to you about it when i should’ve. i was scared. scared that i wasn’t enough for you, and scared that i never would be.”

you can feel the tears still lingering in your eyes, but there’s also a strange sense of closure. you’ve needed to hear this for so long, to understand why things fell apart the way they did. and now, you finally do.

“i messed up,” he says, “i messed up everything, and i know it. but i never stopped loving you and i’m . . . i’m still in love with you.”

you stay silent, blinking away the burn in your eyes, trying to absorb what he’s saying. part of you feels relief, but another part of you is cautious. you’ve been hurt before like this. by another and by him.

he watches you closely, and it feels like the longer the silence is, the more anxious he gets. “i know this doesn’t fix anything, and i’m not asking you to forgive me or take me back. i just needed to tell you the truth. i needed you to know that mila . . . ? mila was never you. no one is.”

the room feels too small suddenly, too full of emotions that you don’t know what to do with. you take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, but all you can manage to say is, “why now, drew? why are you telling me this now?”

his gaze softens, “because i didn’t want to lose you again. not without you knowing the truth.”

you can only look down at your lap. your vision blurs as you try to focus on your fingers, interlocked and tense in your lap, the pressure in your chest is tightening by the second.

you don’t trust yourself to speak just yet, so you hold everything in, to find the right words, but nothing comes out.

when you finally lift your head to look at him, the tears are already pooling in your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from spilling over, but it’s useless. without saying anything, he stands up and pulls you into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame.

you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as your face presses into his chest, and it’s like the dam inside you finally breaks. the tears fall freely now, your body shaking as you cling to him, feeling the warmth of his arms around you—something you’ve missed so desperately.

and it’s not just about the last few days. it’s about the past year of missing him, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t. and you can tell drew needed this too. you can feel it in the way his grip tightens, like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to hold together everything that’s broken between you both.

you stay like that for a long time, the sound of your quiet sobs muffled by his chest, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your back as if to soothe the ache inside you. it’s a comfort you haven’t felt in so long, and it is exactly what you’ve needed.

toward the end of it, your face still pressed against his chest, you mumble something, your words half muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he loosens his hold just a little, enough for you to pull back slightly, just enough to breathe. “i . . .” you take a shaky breath, your hands still gripping his arms, and when you finally meet his eyes again, you whisper, “i never stopped loving you either.”

the words hang between you, raw and honest, and as soon as you say them, you see the way his expression softens, like it’s the only thing he’s been waiting to hear.

his lips crash into yours, urgent and insistent. his fingers tighten against the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. his lips coax yours open, deepening the kiss, and he swallows the whimper that escapes you.

his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on the bed. he kisses you like he's been starved of you, his tongue swirling against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your face, your neck, your hair. this is what he’s been waiting to do.

his hands trail down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and he breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “stay with me tonight?”

you can’t get enough of him, and although you know that everything can’t be completely fixed over just one conversation, sleeping and waking up in the same bed as him isn’t hurting anyone.

you nod, a soft smile on your face that causes him to grin. but he pulls away slowly hesitating for a moment, his smile growing a little wider as he reaches past you into his backpack, his fingers rummaging around as if he’s searching for something precious.

you watch him, curiosity bubbling inside you. what could he possibly have?

“hold on,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and filled with warmth, and you smile as you press another kiss to his.

finally, he pulls out a book, holding it out toward you with a look of pure joy on his face. you take a look at it but almost don’t even catch it the first time until a second later. your heart skips a beat as you recognize it—the last love letter.

“shut up,” you say, taking it into your own hands to see if it’s real. and of course it is.

he nods, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “i heard you talking about it with the girls before we left earlier,” he explains, but he knows you can tell already that much. there’s a goofy look on his face as he wipes underneath one of his eyes. “i knew how much you wanted it and i saw a copy in town, so . . .”

“no, shut up. i can’t take this,” you exclaim, feeling tears welling in your eyes. “star.” the words spill out, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. it’s not just the gift; it’s the thought behind it that strikes a chord deep within you. you trace the cover with your fingertips as if it’s a treasured artifact.

he watches you intently. “i wanted to,” he assures you. “i heard it, i thought it would mean something to you.”

your gaze shifts from the book to him. “thank you, it does,” you whisper, your voice shaking as you blink out a few more tears.

you set the book aside momentarily, throwing your arms around him once again. the embrace feels like a lifeline. you hold him tightly, your heart racing as you bury your face against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent.

he wraps his arms around you, holding you just as tightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. the world outside fades away, and in this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, a bubble of intimacy where everything feels right again.

after a long pause, as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, you can see the softness in his eyes. “you really didn’t have to do this,” you say again, looking down at the brand new book. “but it means the world to me that you did.”

he grins, “i know it’s just a book, but i wanted to show you that i’m here—like, really here this time.” and you are so glad he is.

“i missed this,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he closes his eyes for a moment, and you continue to explore the pages of the book, though your thoughts keep drifting back to him. aw you run your fingers through his hair, it dawns on you how much you've missed this—this connection, this easy banter, the comfort of being together.

“i missed us,” you finally admit, looking into his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right again. it all floods back to you.

he shifts slightly, leaning in closer, and his arms slide to wrap around your waist as he lays his head on your shoulder to take a look at your book with you, his voice in relief as he mumbles, “me too.”

and you’re happy, it all just feels like your dream again.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull @lovelylupin04 @ecstqzy @dasguccier

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starlightazriel · 2 days

Text

bee 11

desc: modern bestfriends > lovers (femreader) (tattoo artist az)

warnings: 18+, drug/alcohol addiction/recovery, reader overthinking/insecure/depressed, jealousy, archeron sisters have entered the chat, angst, fluff, co-dependence(and all the trauma that comes with it),

wc: 4.2k

a/n: wow i'm so sorry this took so long as some of you know i been going through some things anyyyway we've come so far since the beginning myyy goodness, as much as I love sober az I already miss the az who was doing a line before a tattoo, but alas after all the drama last time I hope this makes up for it <3 kisses xoxox

other parts on my az masterlist

eleven

Sixty days.

Sixty days of loneliness.

Sixty days of an empty house.

Sixty days of overthinking.

Sixty days of gut wrenching anxiety.

Sixty days of no contact.

Sixty days of not hearing his voice.

It had been my idea, the whole no contact, and now, it felt like it had been the worst fucking idea in the world. Facing him now seemed impossible. Would he look different? Would he be different?

Fucking idiot. Do you know how much can change in sixty days? Sober Ariel won't even want you.

It had been maybe a week in when the seed of doubt had blossomed in my gut. The regret for the dumb idea that space was the best thing for our relationships, time to figure ourselves out so we could add to each others lives— instead of depending on each other. Him, needing me, me needing to be needed.

It was such a fine line between give and take and I had offered every last piece of myself to him without a hesitation. With him gone, with him healing, getting better... What would he need me for? What was I supposed to do with myself? School was hardly distracting, and finals coming up should have helped but only made it worse.

Rhys and Cass had visited him, a few times, they had also gone on another Vegas trip, without him obviously, apartment hunting. That did nothing to soothe my gut either, that was real. It was happening in mere months they were moving to Vegas. Neither did the way they all stopped talking about him when I was around, did he tell them something? Did he tell them he was going to break it off with me for good when he got home? Or did my friends really think I was that fragile? That I couldn't even handle hearing about him?

'I would let Rhys sue me for breaking contract before I would leave this city without you.' his previous words echoed in my mind, I had been so sure he meant it when he'd said that to me, so sure that I would never be alone again.

And of course I wanted him to get clean, but somehow, everything felt different now. I wasn't so sure of anything anymore. Would he still feel the same way?

I hadn't even looked into transferring schools. He had told me to, before he left... But doing that made everything more real, and what if he changed his mind when he saw me again?

He wouldn't be in a drug clouded haze anymore. He wouldn't need me anymore, not the way that I needed him.

And I wouldn't even get any alone time with him, not immediately. Rhys was throwing a little get together for him, he was so proud, they were all so proud of him.

I hated that I wasnt as proud as everyone else when I should be the most proud, I hated that I was afraid of the new Azriel. There would be nothing for me to fix anymore.

With every waking moment that passed my anxiety and insecurity grew. Getting ready for his 'sober party' seemed surreal to me, it only created more doubts in my mind. I mean, had Azriel, my Az, really agreed to that? Even as a sober version of himself— it seemed doubtful.

Sixty days.

Sixty days of detoxing his mind, body, and soul.

Sixty days of boring meals.

Sixty days of therapy multiple times a week.

Sixty days of sharing his darkest side with complete strangers.

Sixty days of uncomfortable beds and scratchy sheets.

Sixty days of living in sweat pants because it was all he had packed.

Sixty days of heart stopping guilt and revelations about himself and his behavior.

Sixty days of torturous inescapable demons that seemed to be at war in his mind.

Sixty days of not hearing her voice.

The moment she had told him she didn't want to talk to him while he was in rehab, he had wanted to stay. Give up the idea entirely and quit on his own accord. He didn't though, he went. And it wasn't only for her. No, it was for him too. And he thought maybe it was valid, maybe they did need space, time away to clear their minds and have a true fresh start. He could do things right this time.

And now, with his head clear, he was happy he had gone. He felt stronger, in his mind and body. It had been a lot, a lot of facing things that had happened in his childhood that he had never dared to face before. Things he didnt have to face when drugs and alcohol had been his safety net for so many years. He realized he didnt need substances to deal with those things, his traumas didnt make him weak or vulnerable, they made him stronger.

He did recognize his problem, and he couldn't say for sure that he would never touch the bottle or snort a line ever again because that was just unrealistic. He was only human and he would do his absolute best to be a good man, for himself.

For Bee too. If she still wanted anything to do with him, the silence between them was the loudest one he'd ever felt, even miles away.

Bee.

His lover. His everything.

There was nothing that could get in the way anymore, he hadn't realized until now how much his addictions had been separating him from her. And of course he had gotten off it before but never without alcohol to help him along. He had never been so fucking deep into his addictions, had never gone that crazy. What he had done was completely unacceptable and now he could only hope for the best when he saw her. A party thrown by Rhys and his girlfriend hadn't been his ideal meeting place... But it had been completely sprung on him. Him being in rehab wasnt a secret, but that didn't mean he wanted to advertise it. Rhys had promised it was a very small get together, just something to show their support. 'No pictures.' Azriel had been sure to clear that up with him. The party was supposed to be a surprise, luckily for Az, Rhys knew him better than that.

Rhys and his new girlfriend had out done themselves along with the help of Mor who had told me this morning when she arrived in town that she wouldn't have missed this for the world. 'I mean, Azriel sober? I have to see it for myself and support,' she had said over coffees earlier, I had gotten quiet, I knew I could have talked to her about how I was feeling. But it felt wrong, it was embarrassing to say the least. I didnt think she would understand, either.

Rhys' place was decked out, balloons everywhere, charcuterie and little desserts lined both of the large tables, there was a mocktail station and a coffee station where she had also decorated Rhys' coffee pot, another table had a 'fill your own cone' bud bar that included a big jar full of Azriels favorite cigarettes as well. Her theme was 'Sober & Slaying' and there were banners and balloons to match. My heart had swelled the moment I had entered the apartment and part of me felt a little guilty for not getting here earlier. I hadn't been doing much of anything though, I wasn't eating right, I wasn't sleeping right, my thoughts and fears and insecurities had been practically eating me alive. They hadn't even asked me to help with set up, simply to show up on time, I at least had arrived twenty minutes early.

"Oh good! You're here, will you help me with this last mocktail?" Feyre beams after she had pulled me into a quick hug. She was very sweet although a bit reserved at first she had warmed up to me quickly. She was setting up some last minute decorations, I was early, of course, my anxious gut hadn't allowed me to sit at home a moment longer.

Part of me was hoping this new relationship would entice Rhys to stay a little bit longer, but they were already talking about going long distance until Feyre was ready to take the leap and move to Vegas. Seemed awfully soon to even be talking about it to me, but I wasn't one to judge, they did seem madly in love nearly instantly, and Rhys was, different. Nicer even.

"Yeah of course," I flashed her a grin and tasted the mocktail she was working on before I added some more of the homemade blueberry simple syrup she had made. "So good," I hummed in approval once I had tasted it again.

"So like, will this be the first time you and Az speak?" Mor tries to make it sound as casual as possible, my eyes focus intently as I transferred the mocktail to the aesthetically pleasing drink dispensers Feyre had put out.

"Um yeah, I haven't seen him or spoke to him since the night before he left," I shrugged, my eyes not lifting once. It had been quite the emotional night, it felt like a lifetime ago.

"I visited him once, he looks really good," she responded and I couldn't stop the jealous pang that hit my gut. Space. We had decided space was the right thing for us, a reset to our relationship after everything we had been through. My dumb idea, but he had agreed. I only smiled in response, and was glad when Cassian arrived with a cake in hand, his loud greeting drew all the attention away from me. Bless him. I found a corner to sit in, a quiet corner with my phone and one of the mocktails Feyre had made. A few more arrived, Feyres sisters, which I had only met a handful of times. Why were they here? Az didn't know them, did he? The only way that was possible would be if Rhys had brought them for one of his visits— the mocktail felt sour in my stomach and I felt more than relieved when Kat finally arrived and joined me in my corner.

"Hi love, how you holding up?" Kat had been very supportive through this entire rehab thing, and was making my loneliness nearly bearable.

"I'm fine, really, just coping with all of— all of the emotions of all the sudden change I guess," I shrug easily, Kat was the only one I had really felt comfortable to tell my true feelings to. She was the only one I knew that wouldn't judge. She nodded in understanding, making herself comfortable in her seat.

"That's valid, it's a lot to take in girl," She begins and I'm relieved when she can't continue because Cassian is all but shouting a second later.

"He's coming up he texted me a few minutes ago," Cassians voice drowns out the chatter around the room and I feel my insides go to liquid, my throat feeling tight and constricted.

My heart stopped when I finally laid my eyes on him. Impossibly sexier. His face was more full, color in his cheeks, a sparkle in his eye I hadn't seen since we were kids, he stood straighter, making him look impossibly taller, shoulders spread, oozing with a confidence I hadn't seen in a long time. My gut twisted, my heart picking up, a steady hammer against my chest. I held my breath when our eyes met, his face fell as he scanned me from across the room and I wanted nothing more than to drop into the hole in the floor. It wasn't exactly the reaction I'd been hoping for. I knew I looked awful— but shit, we hadn't seen each other in two months.

"Azriel, it's nice to see you again," Elain is the first person in front of him she's loud enough to hear across the room, her sing song voice carrying, and I try to ignore it but my eyes are glued to his, and he has to tear his away from mine.

"So what, Rhys took Feyre and her random sisters to see Az in rehab?" I drop my voice, forcing myself to look away, to tune out their conversation to the best of my abilities. Kat bit her lip, a notable guilty blush creeping across her cheeks.

"I um.. I was there too," she admits, twirling her hair around her finger, I squint slightly. She could have at least told me that. "It was a last minute thing," she explained quickly, my expression probably throwing her off. I was jealous, I couldn't deny that— I had no one to blame but myself. If I'd never been so set on having space away from eachother... My blood heated, she was gorgeous, just the type that Azriel would go for to. "They just happened to be there and we made a group trip of it— and yeah, I didn't think you'd want to know, considering..." she trailed off and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Yeah, I don't mind at all," I would have rather jumped off of the balcony than have this conversation, I shouldn't have asked. The FOMO was certainly real and I wondered if that's why they were constantly all whispers when talking about Azriel, to spare me of that feeling.

"Youre not imagining her googly eyes though," she scoffs as she glances back over at them and then to me mocking a gag, I smirked a little bit glancing back at them once more and then to Kat again. She was for sure laying it on thick with the sweet tone and all of the unnecessary blinks. I didnt remember that about the first few times I met her.

"I mean I can't even blame her— he looks..." I trailed off searching for the right word, he looked amazing, delicious, sexier than he'd ever had before. He was practically glowing with whatever newfound confidence he'd gained from facing his many demons.

"I know that's your man but he looks hot," she finishes for me and we giggle together, I ignored the heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach that maybe he wasnt my man anymore.

"That he does," I sigh, twirling my straw around in my cup, suddenly I regretted not sneaking a few nips into my purse. I wouldn't get drunk at a sober party, I wouldn't, but something to take the edge off would be nice, and a joint didn't seem like the right option.

I effectively avoided Azriel for at least an hour, I hadn't been keeping track of time but it felt like it had been at least that long. I wasnt ready for a conversation, not when one look at him made my heart stop.

My stomach was growling, and I needed a snack. I was carefully piling charcuterie onto my plate when I jumped and nearly dropped the whole thing.

"Youre avoiding me, and youre doing a good job for how small the space is," his voice is the same one I remember, low and gravelly and sexy.

"Im not," I insist, just hoping he hadn't noticed the way I visibly jumped at the sound of his voice.

"I think I know when my girlfriend is avoiding me," he left a heavy emphasis on the word, looking at me expectantly as if he was daring me to challenge his claim on our relationship status. Relief washed over me, a tension that I hadn't been able to ease since the last time I saw him.

"Its just— Its been a lot I don't know, and having this conversation here... Seems like a lot too," I took a step back from the table but turned around to face him, I could feel more than one pair of eyes watching us, it only made me more uncomfortable.

"Are you eating?" its a direct question, soft but firm, his eyes scanning over every inch of me. My stomach flips, my cheeks reddening.

"Yes," I lift the small plate of cheese, crackers, and fruit as if that proved anything.

"Hm," he doesn't seem satisfied with my answer, his eyes not leaving me for a second.

"You look good Az, you look different," I chewed the inside of my lip, hoping my anxiousness didnt bleed into my words.

"Im still me baby im just better," that same confident smirk spreads across his lips, I knew it well but somehow- there was a different spark behind it. Something all those drugs had dimmed. A light I hadn't seen in a while. "For example, Im not gonna nod off on the couch anymore because Ive had a handle to myself for two days straight and Im hours off a two week coke bender," he said it so casually and leave it to Azriel to make a joke out of it. "From now on," his voice drops as if he knew they were all listening, I felt Elain's curious eyes on us and I knew she was trying to catch every word. Sorry, hes mine. "I won't fall asleep without making sure you are fed, fucked, and tucked into bed."

I blush, looking away from his stare, something in my gut eases but the anxiety is still settled there.

"And Im sorry, for each and every time I failed you. Im clear headed now and—" he cuts himself off, and maybe it was the look on my face that stopped him. "Would you feel better if we went outside?" he nods to the balcony, I quickly nod, desperate to be alone with him and not on display like some soap that they were all watching.

"Please, its. little stuffy in here," my words are a little rushed, and they were true, I felt like I could barely breathe anymore. And I was making a complete idiot out of myself when Azriel hadn't seen me in two months. I feel his hand on my back and he guides me out onto Rhys balcony, I don't look back again, I lean up against the balcony, resting my elbow on the railing and sucking in a deep breath of fresh air before popping one of the pieces of cheese into my mouth.

Azriel joins me after he had shut the door behind us, leaning up against the balcony next to me and he lit up a joint he had gotten off of the bud bar.

"Did you tell your psychiatrist you were going to smoke?" I ask casually, trying to change the subject into something else. Anything else but our relationship, I shouldn't be worried, he had already said I was still his girlfriend.

"Yes," he shrugged, taking another drag from it, I could feel his eyes on me as I set my plate down on the nearby table. I had barely touched it.

"And what did they say?" I ask, quirking a brow as I take it from him, it was annoying that I was more at ease now, normal territory, I didnt like the way sober Az could see right through me, I had thought he was able to before, and now?

He shrugged again, watching me. "Why are you trying to avoid talking about us?" he reaches out, tucking my hair behind my ear so I can't hide from him, my breath catches. He took the joint back, taking one more long drag before putting it out. I shook my head, I couldn't find the right words. He grabs my wrist gently and turns me around so my back is against the railing, his body so close, the scent of his cologne slamming into my senses. "Why?" he repeats, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light, his voice is soft and careful.

"I— I don't know Az," I breathe out, my heart felt like it would pound out of my chest. "It's just I—" I look away, unable to meet his gaze when I feel the word vomit coming. "Im afraid, Azriel. I am. And I know it's fucked up because I shouldn't be. I feel sick, sick with myself that I have been more worried about whether or not you would still want me when you got back than I have about you and your actual recovery. Ive been worried about you being different and not needing me and I know Im so fucked up for that there's something wrong with me and Im sorry—"

"Hey, hey, stop, breathe for a second," he interrupts me, a small sigh leaving his lips as he places both of his hands on my cheeks, lifting my face to look at him and he gently wipes away my shameful tears with his rough thumbs, the feeling makes my spine tingle. "Don't feel bad for anything that you feel or have felt in these past weeks," he assures me, one of his thumbs still gently rubbing against my cheek, his eyes burning into mine. "I— I created that for you, that whole thinking you need to be needed by me. I created this... Trauma bond, I know that now, I know that I made our relationship toxic. It's not your fault, I hadn't dealt with any of my shit and I basically put it on to you. Im sorry, Im sorry you felt like that at all and I wish..." he sighed softly, one of his hands fell to my waist. "I wish I had the courage to call you, because I wanted to so many times, but I didnt think you'd want to talk to me. You needed space and I had to respect that but seeing you now, seeing you haven't been taking care of yourself like you should have. I should have been there for you," he sighed, clearly frustrated with himself. "I know where I fucked up, I know what kind of damage Ive done, this only proves it," he brushed his finger over the dark circle underneath my eye. "I love you, I love you so much, maybe too much sometimes," he sighs again, I fight the urge to close my eyes and lean into his touch.

"Az I love you too," I breathe out because Im stunned into silence. Everything hes said, his accountability, his words, they felt like they were crashing into me.

"Im not going to leave you like that ever again," he promised, and took a step closer, pressing his body into mine. He felt stronger, more solid. It was almost like he had left a boy and returned a man. "You are going to be my wife some day, you are the fucking definition of ride or die Bee, I swear, for the last two months the more clear my head got I just realized one thing over and fucking over," he wasnt afraid, he had absolutely no hesitations, every single word felt like a promise, and I felt like my heart was palpitating. "I hit the fucking jack pot with you, and I fear the smartest thing that Ive ever done in my life was share my favorite candy with the girl across the street."

My cheeks are burning, tears streaming, but they aren't sad, just emotional. I don't know what else to do, my words are caught in my throat so I kissed him. I pulled him down, my fingers tugging in the hairs at the nap of his neck, our tongues tangling perfectly like they always had. He was mine, still my Az, better, better like he had said. He was right. A soft groan escaped his lips, my stomach flipped at the sound, the thought of how he would have his way with me later after so many days apart. My body melted into his at the thought, our hungry kiss only escalating. Our desperate need for each other matching perfectly, our emotions pouring into the heated kiss. I tilted my head his lips traveling down my jaw and across my neck, settling behind my ear and gently sucking. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, I moaned his name softly, my body feeling like a hot puddle.

"Hmm?" he hummed against my skin, his hand had slipped under my dress where he was rubbing soft circles on the least sensitive part of my thigh, somehow it was still driving me mad.

"We, we should go in now... They are going to be wondering whats taking us so long," I breathed out, I couldn't even see past Azriel into the house, I was sure they could see us though, or at least see Azriel pinning me against the railing.

"They should have known better than to throw me a party when I haven't seen my baby in sixty whole days, and they definitely should have known better than to let you wear this dress," he tugs lightly at the fabric. "They should have known Id need alone time with you," his eyes glimmered with mischief. "I have a lot of making up to do," he added, tracing his scarred finger over my jawline.

"I hated this idea more than you Im sure," I admitted guiltily, biting down on my lip. "But they worked really hard Az," I tried to peek around him to see inside again, he only shifted to block my view.

"Fine, but five more minutes," he smirked, tilting my chin up again.

"Five more minutes," I whispered breathlessly before he crashed his lips onto mine again, and I felt all of my anxiety melt away, as if he was pulling it from me.

And I felt safe.

Home.

Safe.

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gojo-licious · 3 days

Text

The Big Bad Wolf?!

Summary: Satoru is a wolf hybrid and started working for your department where only prey animal hybrids work. What could possibly go wrong? It’s not like he has a crush on you, his boss who just so happens to be a sheep.

Warnings: 18+, mdni, fem! reader, afab reader, hybrids, reader is a sheep-hybrid, Satoru is a wolf-hybrid, reader goes into heat, sub-ish! Satoru, bondage (Satoru gets his hands tied up), breeding kink, pet names (baby, sweetheart), unprotected, p in v

a/n: I read "I'm a Wolf, but by Boss is a Sheep" and got inspired to put my own twist on it!

"I'm sorry Satoru-kun, but we need you to work overtime today. But I promise it’s the last time this month!“ you say empathetically, understanding that he probably wants to go home on time.

The deadline for the project your department has been working on is moving closer, much faster than anticipated. Most of the work has been already finished, but the draft Satoru sent in needs to be refined before tomorrow's meeting.

"Oh! It’s okay. I will finish my work as fast as you can and then I can drop you off at the station." Satoru replies without showing a hint of sadness or any tiredness. In fact he looks excited to spend more time at the office. Especially since it’s just the two of you left on the floor, everyone else already left.

"I'm still very sorry, Satoru-kun. I know you were excited to head home early today. You did say that one of the games you play is releasing a new DLC today. I will buy you dinner tomorrow to make it up to you, is that okay?“ you reach to ruffle his hair affectionately in an attempt to convey that you truly feel apologetic.

Satoru's ears perk up. The wolf-like ears on the top of his head stand up and his tail starts to swoosh back and forth like that of an excited puppy. Dinner? Alone with you? That’s the closest to a date he has ever had! "Of course!“ he states a little too enthusiastically. "I mean- I mean, yes, that would be lovely!"

His eagerness is delightful and elicits a giggle out of you. "Okay. I will make a reservation for us. Now, how about we both finish our work and head home, hm?" you lightly scratch behind his ears affectionately.

Since Satoru is the only predator-animal-hybrid in your department. At first it seemed to be a hurdle, since the other members of the department wanted to keep their distance. It is a little nerve-wrecking to have a predator so close at all times when one isn’t used to it. But all the worry turned out to be for nothing. Satoru is a delight to work with. He is always eager to help, very gentle with everyone and, most of all, understanding of the difficulties in predator and prey interactions. And a well-built man who can carry all the heavy things is always a plus.

"Okay Boss!" Satoru's tail keeps wagging in excitement and hearts form in his eyes as he watches you leave to your office. He lets out little whimpers at the loss of your touch but makes sure that you don’t hear how pathetic he is being.

The only sound that Satoru can hear is the air conditioning cooling the office air, providing a comfortable work environment. He honestly just wants to go home and play games, but for you, he would willingly spend a few more hours here. And the thought of walking you to the station and talking to you just sweetens the deal even more. His games could wait.

The typing on his keyboard speeds up as he understands what improvements need to be made. The presentation at tomorrow's meeting will be easy to handle for you, if he finishes up quickly.

The clock ticks on as the sky turns darker and the streetlights outside of the office window turn on. Satoru sends the final draft to you and stands up to stretch his aching back from all the hours of sitting. He packs up his bag and carries his cacao brown suit jacket on his arm as he gracefully maneuvers through the halls.

As he stands in front of the door to your office, he takes a deep breath to gather his composure and courage. Satoru looks confident and dashingly handsome as he stands in the hall, but internally he is freaking out. His crush on his superior messes with his head to the point where he stumbled over his words and, in the worst-case scenario, can’t even form a coherent sentence.

The knock on your door goes unanswered, which makes Satoru nervous. You always answer with a small come in or come to open the door yourself, but right now there is no sign of you. He raises his hand to knock on your door again, but he hears a loud thud. Satoru freezes. Are his ears messing with him?

His worry gets the best of him and he reaches for the doorknob. "I'm coming in!“ he lets you know and swings the door open. The first thing he notices is that he smells something strong. It’s your scent, but somehow stronger and more alluring. It makes his ears ring and nose twitch. The second is your face covered in a light sweat. Your hands are harshly gripping the mahogany desk as you breathe unevenly.

All the symptoms only have one obvious cause. You are in heat! This is bad. "F-fuck! W-what should I do?" Satoru asks out loud. He doesn’t know how to help a sheep who has gone into heat.

"Satoru-kun~" you whine out to him as you stand on your wobbly legs with most of your weight being supported by the desk. You look good enough to eat! No, bad Satoru. He needs to do something. "Come here~" you call him over to you.

Satoru is frozen in place. What should he do? If he gets any closer, he will have a hard time helping you. His brain is already malfunctioning. Your pencil skirt is hugging your hips so deliciously and you’re also wearing a turtleneck! It has been on his mind all day.

You walk towards him, but stumble because of the feverish symptoms from your heat. Satoru drops his bag along with his suit jacket and hurries to catch you in his arms. Your sweet scent envelops him completely. There is no way he is making it out of here without developing an even more crazed obsession with you.

Right now, Satoru feels like the prey. You yank him down by his tie and push your body weight onto him for support. "Satoru-kun, can I kiss you?" you manage to ask while looking up at him with a barely functioning mind. Your lips ghost over his.

"Are… are you sure? This is your heat talking. We need to call someone!“ Satoru panics at the thought of doing something he might regret and ruin your relationship with him forever! He can’t let that happen.

You, on the other hand, shut the door behind Satoru and push him up against it. Satoru closes his eyes in surprise and feels terrified that if he sees you up close like this, he will lose his mind.

"Toru-kun~ I like you. This isn’t only the heat. I like you a lot, I promise." you say earnestly.

The breathlessness in your voice eggs Satoru on as he gains a little more courage. "Really?" he asks as he peeks down at you with barely opened eyes. His tail starts to swish back and forth, giving away his true feelings.

"Hmm…" you hum to support your previous statement. "I really like you.“ The confession is muted since you decided to bury your face in Satoru's chest in hopes of smelling his scent better. Not only does his woody scent ground you a little, you can also hear his heartbeat pick up. It’s pounding against his ribcage. Maybe he’s nervous, or maybe he’s about to have a heart attack. Satoru couldn’t tell either.

"Y-you like me?" he’s stunned. He leans closer to you and gently cups your face in one of his hands. "Say it again, please! I need to hear you say it again," he mutters as his body heats up. His face and ears turn red and he uses the back of his left hand to cover the lower part of his face.

He looks at you with such an intense gaze. Your hand lets go of the fabric of his shirt and wanders lower and lower until your fingertips graze his bulge. The sharp inhale makes your ears perk up. "Let me show you how much I like you, Satoru-kun." you coo at him.

His false, somewhat calm demeanor breaks into pieces as he lets out a loud whine. Satoru leans in to capture your soft lips against his own. The spit, tongue and heavy breathing get to his head. He feels dizzy. He feels overwhelmed.

He breaks away from the kiss, allowing the spit to connect your lips to his for a few seconds longer. The dashing smile that follows makes your pussy quiver. Satoru wipes the spit away with the back of his hand and goes to wipe the spit away from your lips using his thumb. But what he didn’t expect was for you to take his thumb into his mouth and suck on it. "Oh~ f-fuck-" he moans out loudly, not expecting your lips to have this kind of effect on him.

His reaction makes you smirk. He’s so cute! You take this opportunity to gently stroke his cock through his slacks. Up and down. Up and down and squeeze lightly.

"Fuck- fuck! Baby! Your hand f-feels soo~ good.“ Satoru throws his head back. His hair falls over his eyes. His prim and proper look exchanged for a disheveled mess.

He pulls at his tie with one hand. Meanwhile you release his thumb from your mouth with a loud 'pop'. "Can you help me, Toru?" you ask with faux innocence in your expression, trying to hide the carnivorous look in your eyes. If only he knew you wanted to swallow him whole.

All Satoru can do is nod dumbly and let you strip him off of his clothes. The belt falls to the floor along with his slacks, boxers and shirt. The tie is repurposed by you, into a make-soft bondage. His hands are tied snuggly behind him as you push him to take a seat on the sofa in your office.

Satoru’s eyes a shining brightly under the fluorescent light. He looks like a puppy more than a wolf, with his ears pressed to his head. On the other hand, he never expected you to be the predator everyone should have been worried about in your department. A real wolf in sheep’s clothing.

"I wanna fuck you soo bad, Toru." you run a nail down his chest, teasing him. "I want to ride you and you can suck on my nípples, okay?" You throw your unbuttoned blouse to the floor, followed by your bra. Satoru’s eyes stay glued to your tits as they jiggle while you try to shimmy your way out of your pencil skirt. His mouth opens involuntarily, letting a small moan escape and hoping you will let him latch on to one. Tempting you to do so.

His reaction coaxes a giggle out of you. He’s so eager. In a way, seducing you without even trying to. "I-I want- no need your tits in my mouth. Please, please, please- I need it so bad!" he sounds delirious. So desperate to bring you any kind of pleasure.

„Like this?“ you ask teasingly as you straddle him and shove his head into your chest.

Satoru hums in appreciation and lets his eyes roll to the back of his head.

"Oh~" you sigh out in pleasure as you start to move your hips against his. Your clit bumping into his bulge repeatedly. "Yeah… such a good boy~" you coo out. „but I need more. I wish you could feel how wet I am." your grinding comes to a halt. "Actually, you can! Silly me. Here, feel.“ you slowly slip his tip in, not giving him a second to adjust to your warmth as you slide him in completely.

"F-fuck! Baby, you shouldn’t have, I‘m gonna- cum!" Satoru cums immediately. His face is bright red from embarrassment. How could this happen! He’s going to die from how embarrassing this is. Now you are going to think he can only pump once and can’t bring you any kind of pleasu- Huh?! Are you giggling? "Baby, I’m so sorry, so sorry! Nnngh- fuuuck. Wait- d-don‘t move so fast, I just came!" he rambled desperately, trying to gain some kind of control over the situation. Are you really going to overstimulate him?

"S'goood. I'm not going to last long! You need to go deeper. I want your babies! You have t- to fill me up good." You stammer out in a horny haze. It’s clear to Satoru that your heat has hit you full force.

You place your feet next to his thighs to get a better angle. This position also makes it easier for you to ride Satoru's cock like a dildo. The mixture of Satoru's cum and your slick is pooling on the sofa, but there is no sign that you are stopping anytime soon.

Both of your moans fill the room along with the wet squelching 'plap' 'plap' 'plap'.

Satoru leans his head back and allows the drool to leak from the corner of his mouth. „Ugh- I'm… baby! Sweetheart, no- not again! Please cum with me, I don’t want to do it alone. Cum, cum, cum!" he lets out a whimper followed by a loud groan that sends shockwaves through your body.

You let your own orgasm wash over you as you continue to grind against him and milk his cock of every drop. You take the opportunity to lick the drool off from the corner of his mouth that had already wandered down to his sharp jaw.

"F-fuck baby.“ he groans seductively. "You wanna go to my place so I can fuck you good? Don’t wanna let my girl do all the work, especially since she wants my babies soo bad." he teases you for your earlier comment.

"Only of you wear your glasses." you tease back with a smile smirk on your face.

"Only if I get to play with your little horns." he retorts as you loosen the tie, freeing his hands. They quickly find their way to your waist and he envelops your lips in a kiss. One of his hands reaches for your horns as he lightly races them and in turn makes you shiver from how sensitive they are.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru x reader #bunny writes <3 with love

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calisturniolo · 12 hours

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CLOTHING HAUL

summary. . . while you were away visiting family in florida chris sent you a video of him showing the clothes you had ordered.

pairing. . . chris sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings. . . cuteness

you had left chris two weeks ago to go visit your family in florida for a month, and before you left you made a clothing order and while you were on your trip chris sent you a video of him giving you a ‘haul’ of the clothes you bought.

you were laying in your bed, ready to put a show on and go to sleep when you felt your phone vibrate with a bunch of snapchat notifications. when you turned your screen around and saw chris’ name show up you were instantly confused, you and chris never used snapchat to communicate.

chris had sent you some kind of video, considering the amount of notifications you just got from him. he wasn’t one to spam so you were curious as to what he had sent you. pressing his name and opening up the messages, your screen was suddenly filled with the familiar sight of your handsome boyfriend holding up a big bag of the clothes you had ordered online before you left for florida.

a smile instantly came over your face as you realised what he was going to do. his voice began to fill your ears, pretending to be you.

he began speaking in a much higher pitched voice then usual, trying to act like you as he picked up the first piece of clothing from the bag. you couldn’t help but giggle, he was so cute no matter what he did.

“hey guys, today i’ve got a clothes haul. so let’s get started” he said, with a high pitched funny voice.

but as soon as he started talking again but his voice was normal but still pretending it was his haul.

he held up the first top he found in the bag, examining in his hands as he held it up close to the camera. “let’s start with...this adorable top...” he spoke, pretending to act as if it was his own order. but you knew chris well enough to know he knew nothing about girls clothes nor would he ever wear a top like that.

“the adorable top…that looks like it will be see through when i put it on my body — amazing, i love when that happens” he says sarcastically, holding up the strapless white tube top.

he grabbed another one out from the bag, he held it up in his hands with a confused look on his face, “and... what the fuck is this?” he said, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the camera with a cocky grin. he held up a black backless halter top, “and of course this is for when i’m going to an orgy” he jokes as he notices how revealing the top is.

he continued to look through the bag of clothes, each one getting more revealing than the last. he pulled out a black mini skirt, he held it up in front of his face, looking at it with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“and this little skirt is obviously for when i’m feeling frisky” he joked, slightly wiggling his eyebrows with a pout at the camera.

he delved back into the bag, pulling out the next item. he pulled out a packet of thongs, he looked at them with a cheeky smile forming on his face as he held them up for the camera, “and, of course, we can’t forget these. the fucking bit of string that goes up my ass, but at least they have little cute bows on the front.” he chuckled, shaking the packet in his hand.

the bag was beginning to become empty, only two items left. he pulled out a bikini, a thong bikini with a triangle top. he held up the tiny little dark blue bikini, looking at it with a mix of shock and awe, “wow, this is… something else.” he chuckled, holding it up next to his body to compare how small it was to him.

“chat should i model it for yall?” he says with a cheeky giggle, he looks down at the bikini before looking back up at the phone that was propped up videoing him. he smirked before pulling on the bottoms over his shorts, and attempts to put on the top, but gets confused when all the tying comes into play.

he struggled trying to figure out how to tie the top on, his hands getting tangled in the strings as he tried to figure it out. he grumbled under his breath as he struggled, mumbling curses and profanities as he tried to pull the string to tie in a bow around his chest.

“finally” he says as he got it tied, very messily, around his body. he struck a pose, mocking you, “hi my names y/n and this is my new bikini, what do you all think? do i look sexy?” he mocks your voice before breaking character and laughing.

“okay i gotta get this shit off, im embarrassing myself so bad right now” he laughed as he fumbled with the strings and sliding the bottoms off his body. he was about to throw them back in the bag before he saw he had slightly stretched the bikini, “oh shit…sorry baby, i’ll get you a new one.” he said before throwing the bikini in a bag.

he looked at the bag where he had just thrown the bikini, guilt suddenly washing over his face. he knew how excited you were to get that bikini, and he hated the thought of having ruined it for you.

“damn, i can’t believe i stretched it out. i’ll have to get you another one for when you get back.” he muttered to the camera, scratching the back of his neck embarrassedly.

“back to the haul” he says dismissing the bikini before reaching in and taking out the last item, a dress. he held the dress up and looking at it confused due to all the strings and whatnot, “all i see is black lace and a bunch of strings. i’m not even gonna pretend i know what this is supposed to look like but no doubt you’ll look amazing in it.” he smiles before placing all your items back in the bag with a smirk.

“and that concludes my haul, i hope you all loved it. comment and like for more.” he says mocking your voice again, before pressing the end button on the video and pressing send to you.

as you finished watching the video, your face broke out into a wide smile. chris was always so goofy and adorable, and the way he was trying to pretend to be you was just too much. you couldn’t help but giggle at how silly he looked trying to wear the bikini and not knowing what to do with the dress, once your giggles died down you typed out a reply to chris’ videos.

dude are you fr 😭😭😭😭???? i literally just got that and you already stretched it.

but i’ll let it slide since it made me laugh and you’re cute. also that was the best haul i’ve ever watched.

bro really said “for going to an orgy” sooooooo dramatic

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iheartmapi · 22 hours

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Get Gone (pt.2 to “Teddy Bear”)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Alexia had crossed another line, and you couldn’t let it be like this anymore.

Angst, no comfort ig

TW: none

Word count: 1,185

Your eyes flickered around the restaurant you were patiently waiting in for the past 30 minutes.

The situation is easy to guess, you were waiting for Alexia, since she herself proposed a date today to you a week ago. Yet she wasn’t showing up. Sweat painted your hands, you wanted to finally catch a glimpse of her blonde hair somewhere in the crowd of waiters and other clients, you tried texting her, perhaps she got stuck in traffic or something else happened to her?

You hoped it was only something of innocent nature…Alexia wouldn’t stand you up after all, right?

More time passed and passed, but to no avail Alexia hadn’t appeared in the restaurant. Tears were begging to be let out of your eyes, it was hard keeping yourself in check and not crying a river right there in public but you at least managed to get back to your car before breaking down in tears.

You went back home, your sadness slowly morphed into anger towards Alexis, lately you’ve been wondering if this relationship even had any chance of salvation. She didn’t return till late in the evening. You were sitting in the living room, your arms crossed as you saw her drop her bag down on the floor. Not even a “sorry”, “hey” or “how are you was dropped, let alone one single look at you. You wanted to scream at her, make a mess of the apartment, claw at her skin pull your hair anything..but she’d just turn a blind eye to it anyway, it’s as if you were invisible, when you were around her she treated you like mist, she just didn’t care.

“Why?” You then spoke up, your cheeks got a reddish tint to them, as well as your eyes which were letting tears fall. You cried silently, just looking at her as she turned around to face you as if she had no clue what you meant by ‘why’

“What are you talking about?” Alexia’s brow furrowed, her gaze said it all, she was looking at you as if you were some mad woman that should be institutionalised for her over-sensitivity. “Why don’t you love me anymore?” You choked out the question you had wanted to ask her for the past few months.

“Y/n-“ Alexia begun with a tired voice, “No” you cut in “Don’t ‘Y/n’ me, you know it’s the truth” And she probably did, Alexia stood in place, her eyes diverted from yours.

“I wanted this to work, I really did, and we had our happy years didn’t we? But you changed Alexia, you don’t give a shit about me anymore.” Your voice broke here and there, a thousand words and sentences were running through your brain, so fast it made you feel like it was frying.

“I thought about this so many times, thought about all the things I wanted to say to you…but now I can’t, there’s so many of them I can’t keep up, you had done me so bad, so many times..so many times I forgave you quietly, but I can’t do it anymore”

“What the hell do you mean?” She barked at you, “So you’re gonna break up with me? Because of some dumb things I did? God you’re impossible-“ The blonde shook her head “Stop it! For fuck’s sake stop it! That’s why I’ve been holding back, cause you always do this, I’m always the bad guy whilst you’re a martyr.” Your hands clutched your head “And dumb things? You cal treating me as if I didn’t exist dumb things? You stood me up, and the best part is this wasn’t the first time” It was clear Alexia was trying to come up with some cheeky answer, one that’d shut you up, but to no avail.

“This is the end” you said now more quietly, “I’m leaving, don’t contact me again” with that you made your way to your now past shared bedroom. Another minute spent in this goddamn place was going to drive you mad, so swiftly you grabbed your clothes and other belongings, not caring to fold them, just to get them into your bags. Alexia soon stormed in after you. “This is fucking crazy!” She yelled, “You can’t do this to me!” Her arms were swaying around, she was mad, furious even.

“You did much worse to me” you muttered “You don’t deserve to be mad at me Alexia”

As you grabbed your now packed bags you looked at her for the last time together, “Goodbye” and that was it, the end.

A few weeks had passed now, you bought yourself a flat since you sold your old one before moving in with Alexia. You recall breathing the fresh air, the wind blowing through your hair when you left Alexia, the world around you felt different, alone and freeing. Later a part of you was screaming at you that you chose the wrong option, but you couldn’t get back with Alexia, not after everything.

Years of a good relationship, and then years of a ruin that was your ‘love’. There was no denying that a small percentage of you, still loved her, but you couldn’t be with her if all you were going to get was a one-sided romance.

Alexia messaged you, one message that read ‘meet me at the pier, you know which one. 7pm, I’ll be there.”

You sighed internally, you were gonna give her one last chance to speak to you, whatever it is she wanted, all you knew was that there was no getting back ever again.

It was dark already, the sky turning into a deep navy blue transcending into black. As you walked down the wooden pier, some happy moments from your time together came flooding back. You knew this had to be the pier she wanted to see you at, and as you walked further down you could make out a woman’s figure in the distance, as you got closer you quickly recognised it was indeed Alexia.

She was leaning against the pier’s fence, looking into the deep blue sea, you stood next to her, glancing into the water as well

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” You then asked, not looking back at her, and you could feel that she wasn’t observing you either. “Can’t we make this right?” She said after a minute “Alexia…” you sighed, “I told you”

“I can change, Y/n” she was still pleading for you to change your mind. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe you, we’re done, and that’s it. If we get back together either you or me are still gonna get hurt” You knew well that it was definitely you who was going to get hurt…but you weren’t here to talk about it, all you had wanted was to deliver the message clearly.

“Y/n..” she mumbled, “I’m sorry Alexia” you simply stated, “Have a good night.” You pushed yourself off the fence, walking off, towards the parking lot to your car. As you walked, you hadn’t looked back at Alexia.

You were better off not being together.

#barca femeni x reader #woso community #woso x reader #barca women #wlw #woso appreciation #woso fanfics #fanfic #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #la reina #wlw post #wlw fanfic #light angst #angst

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charminglyantiquated · 16 hours

Text

9/25 update on the Nautilus, for anyone curious. Details below (long), but in summary: the damage is more expensive than we'd hoped. We will have to buy Nautilus back as salvage and repair her mostly out of pocket. We still do intend to repair her, but it seems now it will be over a timeline of several years. The fundraiser for her repairs has been raised to reflect the new estimate, and will remain up as long as we're working on her, for anyone who wishes to contribute. I'm so unbelievably, profoundly grateful to all of you who have helped us so far. Thank you so, so much.

Damage: a joint survey was conducted Tuesday between surveyors from our insurance and that of the other vessel. It will be another 3-4 weeks before we have the official paperwork, but the consensus was that the damage approaches twice Nautilus' value. In addition to the mast and all the attached rigging, sails, hardware, etc., the teak deck would have to come up in order to address the damage to the deck and hull. This means that rather than pay for repairs, our insurance company is almost certainly going to write her off as a total loss.

I am waiting for formal documentation before sharing any exact numbers. Once we have them I will be more precise. But the general process as I understand it right now is below, for anyone curious about how everything shakes out.

What a loss means with insurance: my understanding is that repair damages are only covered by insurance up to the point a vessel is totaled. Since the damages almost certainly surpass her value then she would be totaled instead. In this scenario, our insurance would give us the value the Nautilus was insured for, and then pursue the other vessel's insurance for their own reimbursement. Additionally the other insurance might give us the income we lost over the remainder of the season, but whether that will happen and what amount that would be is up in the air, with the three different attorneys we consulted agreeing that we'd be fortunate to get any amount. Anything beyond that is apparently unlikely, any other legal pursuit would possibly lose us more money that we might hope to gain.

On our end: we took out a loan to buy Nautilus in April, and still owe the majority of it. By the terms of the loan, with a total loss we would have to pay back the full loan immediately. Then, because this is essentially our insurance 'buying' Nautilus from us, we would have to buy her back as salvage. The salvage price would be determined by the salvageable parts of her, and the surveyor. Hopefully it would be less than five figures, but it depends heavily on which insurance company actually ends up with her, and how exhaustively they tally up the pieces of her that they could sell. The surveyors could not tell us at the time of the survey who would end up with her or what they would charge. For the next month or two Nautilus is in a kind of purgatory where we do still technically own her, but only until insurance gets through the paperwork, which makes it difficult to begin any work right now.

Financially: when the dust settles, once the loan is paid and we own Nautilus once more as salvage, I think that based on the current estimates we may have some funds remaining. But even in the best case scenario - low salvage price, and we do receive lost income - it wouldn't be enough to finance all the needed repairs. My partner and I will be keeping the fundraiser up for as long as we are working on her, for anyone who wishes to contribute to her repair fund. Any help from anyone who would like to see her sailing again will always be deeply appreciated, but we're both aware it's an absurd number. If we fail to meet it, we're both keenly aware it's not through any lack of generosity - I cannot possibly express how grateful we are for the help we have received already, and what a massive difference it has made over the last month as we deal with the immediate and long-term fallout, covering her haul-out and towing and bills over the months it will likely take to resolve all this.

Fixing Nautilus: my partner and I are still committed to repairing her, despite the cost and the time involved. The thought of letting her be cut up for salvage is too heartbreaking to bear. But at the pace things are progressing and with the resources we have, it's obvious now that it's not feasible to fix her fully over the winter; it will instead be over the course of several years. However, my partner and I hope that by doing as much of the work ourselves as we are qualified for, we can bring down the overall cost of repairs by a fair amount. Additionally, the broken mast was built only a few years ago by a gentleman who still has the plans for it and is willing to guide us through the process of building a replacement. There is a possibility we can connect with a local boat building school's fledgling restoration program. And a great many people have offered their time, advice, expertise, and contacts. The timeline has changed, but we are not giving up on her.

In the meantime: with the survey done, we now have at least a general idea of what the future will look like. Since working nonstop to get Nautilus sailing again by June is not on the table any longer, my partner and I are currently figuring out a long-term plan for ourselves, our little company, and the Nautilus herself. We have discussed a few ideas, which I'll share more about once we settle on anything concrete. Nautilus herself is finally clear of wreckage, with the pieces of her mast on sawhorses beside her, her deck swept clean, solar panel plugged in, and a tarp over the worst of the damage. She's as safe as we can make her for now; there's nothing else we can do except wait for the wheels to turn.

Lastly: thank you all, more than I can say. I have been trying not to miserypost, but I have been having a very hard time dealing with this, as has my partner. It took us ten years to save the money we put into Nautilus, and the few months we were able to spend sailing her together were the happiest and proudest I have been in my life. We have lost the future we'd imagined, and regardless of how this resolves, we are never getting that time back. We are determined not to lose the Nautilus as well, but it has honestly been difficult some days to push through the grief. The one consistent silver lining has been the kindness and sympathy and outrage from everyone who has taken the time to reach out to us. I have been floored, over and over, by how many people we have rooting for us. I am never, ever going to be able to express my full gratitude to all of you. Without exaggeration, you have kept me going.

I will share more once we know more - exact numbers, exact damage, exact plans for repairs and the next steps. Until then, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

#the other crew clearly felt awful and in fairness they were very forthcoming with all the information we needed #but two days later #kneeling on the deck picking up the splinters of the mast and taping over the worst of the exposed wood to keep the rain out #while they laughed and clinked glasses on their yacht which was still docked directly behind us #was a very difficult evening to get through #nautilus update #nautilus fundraiser #nautilus

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willowsnook · 13 hours

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Only one bed??? (LN)

lando norris x teammate!reader

a/n: anytime i saw this trope on wattpad back in the day i went feral so enjoy me reliving my past

Raindrops were quickly streaming down the plane window next to you and your hands were gripping on the handrests, knuckles turning white. Because of a post race meeting going way over time, you and your teammate were the last to leave Monza and had not made it past the storms that headed towards Monaco. The jet was silent, just you, Lando, and the plane staff but no words were spoken. You wouldn't necessarily say that you and Lando were enemies but you definitely weren't friends. More like awkward teammates.

It bothered you though. It seems like Lando had a special relationship with almost anyone he had been teammates with besides you. You had tried to be outwardly friendly when you joined McLaren but were met with indifference. After the first few months you gave up and settled into this routine. The team was disappointed too, they had expected Lando to mentor you as a rookie but that hadn't happened. The sound of the plane's speaker turning on brought you out of your thoughts.

"Sorry guys, we are going to have to make an emergency landing in the next ten minutes due to this storm."

You felt your pulse quicken and you looked over to Lando who gave you a worried look. Tugging your seatbelt tighter you closed your eyes for what felt like eternity until the plane landed. Following Lando out and down the stairs, you both rushed to a car that was waiting, piling in the back seat.

"There's a hotel a mile from here, I'll take you guys there and we should be good to go in the morning to Monaco," the driver said and you both nodded. The world was raging outside and you wondered if the car would even make it to the hotel. It wasn't a nice building, very standard for a small town you imagined but at the moment you'd be happy with anything out of the storm.

Dragging your carry on behind you, the clerk blinked up in surprise at the sight of you both walking in, dripping all over the floor. You gave her an exhausted smile.

"Hi, we need two rooms please," you said and she looked to her computer.

"Unfortunately, I only have one available," she said and you laughed, refusing to believe it. She raised an eyebrow.

"Are you serious?" You asked looking around at the dinky lobby wondering how it was even possible this place was filled up.

"Yeah, we had a lot of people stop to ride out the storm," she snapped back. "Do you want it or not?"

"Yes, we'll take it," Lando said, moving around you and laying down his card. He nudged you towards the hallway once she gave him the key. Taking the key from him you swiped it to the door pushing your way through. You stopped short once you saw the inside.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," you said and Lando ran in to the back of you. Things could really not get worse.

"One bed Lando," you said laughing hysterically. "One fucking bed! Amazing, just what I wanted."

You were losing it and you could tell he knew that by the wide eyed look he was giving you. A loud thunder crash boomed from outside causing you to jump into Lando who reached out his arms to steady you. You looked down at his hands and he quickly removed them before moving around you and unzipping his bag.

"What are you doing?" You asked warily and he didn't look up.

"Getting ready for bed," he replied. "It's one night, y/n, we will manage."

Sighing you kneeled down to unzip your bag, pulling out your pajama set and heading to the bathroom to change. Washing your face and brushing your teeth, you tried not to think about how awkward this whole situation was.

Lando looked up at you from where he had already situated himself and tossed his head back groaning.

"You can't be serious," he said and you gave him a confused look.

"What?"

"You can't wear that." he said and you frowned looking down at your clothes.

"Why?"

"I can see your whole chest in that top," he complained crossing his arms.

"Then close your eyes," you snapped pulling back the covers. You started moving the extra pillows in between you.

"What are you doing?" Lando asked.

"Making a pillow wall," you replied settling in.

"Are you really that scared of touching me?" He said irritably.

"It's more for your sake considering you hightail it out of any room I walk into," you bite back and he doesn't say anything, just looks away towards the window.

Snuggling into the sheets you watch tik toks on your phone for a while before trying to fall asleep. That task feels impossible due to the flashing lights and lack of heat in the room. Sighing you reach over for your phone to see that it's not even midnight. You let out a frustrated groan.

"What's wrong?" Lando mumbles sleepily.

"Nothing, I just can't sleep," you whisper back at him. The bed shifted and you turned to see Lando looking at you, propped up on his elbow.

"Are you cold?" He murmured, waking up.

"A little," you sighed and he started moving the pillows, scooting closer to you. "What are you doing?"

"Just come here," he said and you gave in, letting him slide behind you, his arm going across your waist. Warmth instantly flooded your body.

"You think the team would be shocked to see us like this?" You asked and he let out a little laugh.

"Yeah, I would imagine so," he said, tracing circles on your arm with his thumb.

"Can I ask you something?" You asked looking over at Lando.

"Yeah."

"Why don't you like me?" You whispered and he frowned.

"I do like you," he said looking sadly at you and you shook your head.

"I'm not stupid, I see how you are with everyone else," you said. "I just don't know what I did."

Lando sat up, pulling you with him until you were seated and looking in his eyes.

"It's not you y/n, I promise, it's me," he said and you rolled his eyes.

"Very helpful Lando," you grumbled and he shook his head.

"I got scared when they signed you because I knew the expectations that it brung for me," he said and you looked at him confused. "You are the rookie, I'm the veteran but I'm just not ready to be the veteran. I feel like I still have so much to learn but now I'm supposed to be teaching you."

"Why didn't you say anything? All of that is so understandable," you said, frustration growing. He looked down.

"It's just easier now to keep you at a distance," he said. "If you were a guy it would be so much better."

"Are you fucking serious right now?" You said angrily and his head snapped up, eyes filled with panic.

"No no I didn't mean it like that," he stuttered.

"Then how did you mean it?"

"Come on, y/n," he said gesturing his hands out. "You know you're hot, the whole grid knows you're hot. You distract me so avoiding you keeps me focused."

Lando looks sheepish as you glare at him not saying anything.

"You've made the first half of my F1 career borderline miserable just because you think I'm hot?"

"Yeah I guess so," he said eyes flickering down to your chest.

"And now you are blatantly checking me out," you whisper yelled at him and he put his hands up to cover his eyes.

"It's kind of hard when you are sitting here half naked next to me," he groaned.

You tried to move back to your side of the bed but another round of thunder boomed outside causing you to jump back. Your legs being tangled in the blankets threw you off balance and you landed down on Lando's chest. When you lifted your head up, your lips were inches from his lips.

He smirked and you tried to push yourself off of him but he held you tight against him.

"Lando," you warned and he smirked wider. "Don't even think about it."

He hesitated but you didn't move away. His eyes flicked up to yours questioning and when you didn't say anything he leaned forward meeting your lips.

The kiss started off soft but soon grew more aggressive. You slid over to straddle him and felt him harden under you, gasping into the kiss. You pulled back, breathing hard sitting back and he leaned up to kiss you again but you pushed him back.

"Promise me, things are going to change," you said and he smirked.

"I guess there are a few things I can teach you."

#f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris x reader

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thinkinginpen · 3 days

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Stop Me Now Part 2

a/n: I had to write part two. I loved the first one so much pairing: dbf!logan x reader w/c: 4.1k warnings: age gap, arguing, angst, being kicked out summary: Your dad found out and it didn't end well. But you had a boyfriend now... you couldn't go back to Logan...

It had been three months. Three months since you last saw Logan. Three months since you walked out the door, leaving behind a trail of heartache and memories.

The absence of the one you loved left an emptiness in your heart like a cold, lonely vacuum. Three months passed like a slow, endless dream, and the memories you had with Logan still lingered like sweet, bittersweet ghosts in your mind.

That feeling of love was evident in every detail. The way he protected you, showing his deep care and concern, and the way he was so passionate and engaged in arguments, even when you disagreed. It was more than just lust or casual interest, it was a deeper connection born from a genuine love.

Despite what Logan had said, the love you shared still felt real and true. Perhaps your father wouldn't have approved, and maybe it seemed wrong on the surface. But none of that changed the authenticity of the love and connection you had with Logan.

At the sound of your dad's knock, your thoughts were suddenly interrupted, and your heart leaped in your chest. "Logan's here," your dad said softly through the door.

You froze for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. The thought of seeing him again after these three months filled you with...

Anger.

You felt a wave of anger and frustration wash over you as you heard your dad's casual announcement. Why was Logan here now, after all these months of silence? Did he think he could just show up unannounced, as if nothing had happened between you?

As you took a deep breath to calm yourself, your mind was racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you wanted to see him, to hear his voice and feel his presence once again. But another part of you was still hurt and angry about the way things had ended.

"What does he want?" you asked your dad, trying to keep your tone even.

Your dad hesitated for a moment, sensing your confusion and frustration. "He is over for dinner honey," he responded. "What else? He missed his best friend's, AKA my, soup."

Logan was here for dinner? He was going to be sitting right across from you, just like old times? Of course, your dad never knew what happened between Logan and you so this didn't seem weird to him. To him nothing had changed. Logan was still supposedly "Uncle Wolvie" as far as he knew.

You felt a pang of guilt as you thought about your dad's ignorance. He had no idea how complex your relationship with Logan had been. And now, he was hosting him for a cozy dinner, completely oblivious to the truth.

"I don't know if I can do this," you muttered under your breath. Spending an evening with Logan, pretending everything was normal, was the last thing you wanted to do right now.

As you made your way into the dining room, you saw Logan sitting there, smiling at you, but you could see the thoughts running through his mind. He was thinking the same thing you were… This was going to be a long dinner.

Your dad, oblivious to the tension in the air, was happily setting the table and chatting away. "Ah, there she is," he exclaimed, as you entered the room. "Sit down honey, dinner's almost ready."

You forced a smile in response to your dad's cheerful greeting, trying to act like everything was fine. But as you took your seat across from Logan, you could feel the weight of the unspoken tension heavy in the room.

Logan's eyes met yours for a moment before he quickly looked away. The silence between you was deafening, broken only by your dad's cheerful chattering and the clinking of plates and silverware.

Your dad served the meal, and everyone dug in, but the conversation felt forced and stilted. You couldn't bring yourself to look at Logan, and he seemed equally uncomfortable, occasionally sneaking glances at you but mostly focusing on his plate.

As the meal progressed, your dad tried his best to keep the conversation light and cheerful, blissfully unaware of the awkwardness between you and Logan. The atmosphere at the table remained tense and strained, the elephant in the room impossible to ignore.

Logan looked up from his plate and tried to muster a smile. "Not much," he replied, avoiding your gaze. "Just keeping busy, you know."

Your dad nodded, taking another bite of his dinner. "You know, I was just thinking the other day," he continued, oblivious to the tension in the room. "It's been a while since you've come over for dinner."

Logan shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I've been busy," he said. "But it's good to be here now."

"How about you," Logan nodded to you. "What's new, kid?"

"Not much," you replied, avoiding his gaze. The way he said "kid" felt like a dagger in your heart. It stung to hear him call you that, as if things were still the same between you.

"No exciting adventures?" Logan pressed on, trying to make conversation. But you could hear the strain in his voice, the effort it took him to keep his tone light and casual.

"Actually, I have been dating this one guy lately," you lied, forcing a casual tone. "He's been keeping things pretty interesting."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you saw Logan's expression change. A flicker of surprise and hurt passed over his face, and you took a twisted sense of satisfaction in knowing that you had gotten under his skin.

He tried to maintain his composure, but you could see the tension building in his shoulders. "Oh yeah?" he said, feigning indifference. "What's his name?"

You couldn't help but relish the chance to twist the knife further. "His name is Nate," you said, unable to keep the hint of mockery out of your voice. "He's very generous and sweet."

Logan's jaw clenched as he processed your words. The mention of another man, especially one who was supposedly generous and sweet, seemed to bother him. But he tried to hide his emotions, keeping his tone neutral.

"I see," he said, his voice betraying a hint of jealousy. "Sounds like quite the catch."

You couldn't help but smile at his obvious discomfort. Seeing him struggle with his emotions was a small victory, even if it was all based on a lie.

Your dad cleared the dishes and excused himself to do the dishes in the kitchen, leaving you and Logan alone at the table. The silence between you was deafening as you both sat there, each waiting for the other to speak first.

"I should have seen it fuckin coming."

Logan's sudden remark cut through the silence, his frustration and irritation seeping through his words. He had finally broken the stalemate, and his tone was a mix of anger and resignation.

"Please tell me some of it was fuckin real."

Logan's voice was rough with emotion, desperation laced with hurt. Your heart ached at the pain in his words, but you refused to show weakness. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, searching for answers.

"You told me to leave!" You responded angrily.

"You knew I wanted you," he shot back, his voice filled with raw emotion. "You knew how I felt about you. But you still walked out that damned door, and you never looked back."

"I didn't want to," he hissed. "You think I wanted to push you away? I was trying to protect you!"

"Protect me?" You could feel your anger rising, the pain of his words cutting through you. "Don't bullshit me! You were just scared."

"Damn right I was scared," he admitted, his voice suddenly softer. "Every day we were together was a knife in my gut. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't stay away from you. And if your dad finally found out… I knew I had to end it."

Your heart ached at his confession, but your anger and hurt still raged inside you. "And you expect me to believe that you actually cared? That it wasn't just some fling to you?"

"You know it wasn't," he replied, his voice low and fierce. "How can you even say that? I loved you, damn it. I still love you."

Your dad froze as he walked back into the dining room, realizing that he had walked in on a very charged conversation. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, and your dad's face was a mixture of shock and concern.

"Logan…" He said slowly, "Logan that is my daughter…"

Logan went pale, the weight of your dad's words hitting him like a ton of bricks. The guilt and embarrassment on his face were obvious, and he fidgeted in his seat, unable to look your dad in the eye.

"How long has this been going on?" your dad asked, his voice betraying a mix of anger and disappointment.

Logan interrupted you, his voice loud and furious. "It's not fucking over!"

Your dad's gaze flicked back and forth between you and Logan, his expression a mix of surprise and anger. The tension in the room was unbearable, and you knew that everything was about to blow up.

"You told me to leave! I fucking left!"

"Not out of choice!" Logan's voice was rising in volume, his frustration and anger reaching a boiling point.

"You walked out without a fight!" he yelled, his emotions getting the better of him. "You gave up on us… on me!"

Your dad held up his hand, trying to calm things down. "Whoa, whoa, let's all take a deep breath-"

"Don't you tell me to take a damn breath!" Logan snapped, his eyes still fixated on you. "You have no idea what you put me through!"

Your dad stepped closer, his voice firm. "Logan, you need to calm down. This is still my house, and I won't have you yelling at my daughter, or at me. Now take a breath and talk to me like a grown-ass man."

"What are you gonna do about it?" Logan shot back, his voice hard and challenging. "Kick my ass? Go ahead and try it."

Your dad clenched his fists, clearly struggling to control his own temper. He was seething with anger, his eyes fixed on Logan. "Logan, you better shut that damn mouth-"

But Logan was beyond rationality. "Or what?" he taunted, his voice full of bravado. "You'll do what? You gonna hit me? Go ahead. I dare you."

"Don't talk to my dad like that Logan! You caused this!"

"I caused this?" Logan exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief and hurt. "You think this is all my fault? You're not innocent in this either!"

"I never said I was," you snapped. "But I'm not the one who started this whole mess in the first place."

"You wanted it just as much as I did!" Logan countered heatedly. "Don't sit there and act like you were some innocent victim! I didn't rape you!"

Your dad flinched at Logan's words, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going. "Watch your language," he warned, his voice firm.

But Logan was too far gone to listen. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said mockingly. "Should I censor myself for your precious ears? You have no idea what we've been through!"

"Logan stop!"

He ignored you, his anger and hurt fueling his words. "No, I won't stop!" he shouted. "You don't get to act like I'm the bad guy here! You were just as responsible as I was, if not more! I didn't force you into anything! I remember everything! Every sound you made! Every laugh! Every smile!"

Your heart ached as he revealed the depth of his feelings, but you tried to push past the pain. "That doesn't change the fact that you ended it!" you retorted, your voice breaking.

"I had to!" he exclaimed, his voice ragged. "Don't you think I wanted you? I'm hundreds of years older than you! Your dad would have killed me if he found out!"

"I know now Logan. Get out."

Your dad's voice was firm, his tone leaving no room for argument. Logan's eyes flicked between the two of you, his anger and frustration warring with his conflicted feelings. He knew he was outnumbered and out of options. With a clenched jaw, he pushed back from the table and stood up.

For a moment, the room was eerily silent. All you could hear was the sound of your dad's heavy breathing. You could feel his disappointment and anger practically radiating off of him.

Finally, your dad spoke, his voice low and controlled. "We need to talk."

Your heart sank at his words. You knew this conversation was not going to be easy. "Okay," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Your dad led you to the couch and sat down heavily. He took a deep breath before speaking. "What the hell are the two of you thinking?" he started, his voice carefully measured.

"I can't even begin to wrap my head around this," he continued, shaking his head in disbelief. "How long has this been going on?"

You couldn't meet his gaze as you answered. "A few months," you mumbled, feeling shame burn in your gut. "But we stopped."

Your dad's eyes widened in shock, his anger and disappointment clear. "A few months?" he repeated, his voice tight. "And you didn't think to tell me? How could you keep something like this a secret?"

You fidgeted under his scrutiny, feeling like a child being scolded. "I… I don't know," you mumbled, your voice small. "I was scared. I knew you would be mad."

"Damn right I'm mad!" your dad exclaimed, his voice rising. "I have every right to be. You've been lying to me, hiding something huge, and with a man old enough to be your father!"

"It's not just that," he continued, his anger still palpable. "Logan. Of all people, Logan. He's like a brother to me, and he was my closest friend… And you two…. How could you?"

You flinched under the weight of his disappointment. You knew you had messed up, and there was no way to make it right. "We… We can't help who we fall in love with," you mumbled, the words feeling hollow.

Your dad let out a humorless bark of laughter. "Love? This isn't love," he spat, his voice filled with anger and disbelief. "This is a mess. A huge, messy, wrong-on-so-many-levels mess. And you two dragged me right into it. It's lust."

Your eyes stung with tears as his words sunk in. "It's not just that," you protested, your voice shaky. "We care about each other-"

"Care about each other?" Your dad's voice was dripping with disbelief. "You don't know the meaning of care. Not at your age. This is just lust, plain and simple. Logan knows better. He should have had the sense to pull away before it went too far."

Your heart ached at his words. You knew he was right that Logan should have known better, but you couldn't help how you felt. "I can't just stop feeling the way I do," you muttered, your voice cracking. "I love him."

"You don't even know what love is," your dad retorted, his voice hard. "You're just caught up in the excitement of sneaking around, of doing something forbidden. It's all a game to you, a thrill. How did it start?"

You winced at his words, knowing deep down that he was partially right. You didn't know what love was. Not really. "It just… happened," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "When he was over… and you left for work… and you told him to take care of me… We…"

"You what?" your dad pressed fiercely, his voice filled with disbelief. "When I left you alone with Logan?"

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. "We… we ended up on the couch," you admitted, the words coming out in a rush. "And one thing led to another… and we just… kept meeting up… when we could."

Your dad let out a weary sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "So you've been sneaking around right under my nose," he said, his voice weary now. "While I trusted you. While I trusted him."

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, feeling the shame and guilt well up inside you. "I know I messed up, but I can't help how I feel. I love him. I have for a long time-"

Your dad's eyes narrowed at your words. "You have a boyfriend dammit!"

"I know!" you exclaimed, tears welling up in your eyes. "But it doesn't change how I feel about Logan. It doesn't change the fact that I love him!"

"You don't even know what love is," your dad repeated, his voice firm. "You're just a kid. You're hormonal. You're impressionable. You're not thinking straight."

"I am!" you protested, tears streaming down your face now. "I do know what love is. I know what I feel for Logan. You can't tell me that my feelings aren't real just because I'm young-"

"I can and I will," your dad shot back. "You don't know the first thing about love. You're just infatuated. It's a crush. It will pass. And when it does, you'll realize how foolish this all was. But in the meantime get out!"

Your heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. "What?" you whimpered, your voice trembling. "You're kicking me out?"

"Damn right I am!" your dad retorted, his voice hard. "You broke my trust. You went behind my back. You thought you could deceive me and sneak around without any consequences. Well, now you're going to face the music. Pack a bag."

Fresh tears streamed down your face as you realized he was serious. You stumbled to your feet and rushed to your room, grabbing a bag and throwing clothes into it, your mind racing. This couldn't be happening.

Your mind was a whirlwind of confused and conflicting emotions as you packed. Anguish, guilt, hurt, anger, and fear all vied for dominance. You could hear your dad’s voice drifting in from the living room, a mixture of anger and disappointment. As you shoved the last of your belongings into your bag, you tried to collect yourself, wiping your tears on your sleeve.

With a final glance around your room, you took a deep breath and walked back into the living room, your heart in your throat. Your dad looked up as you entered. His expression was unreadable, but his jaw was set and his eyes were like steel.

"Are you packed?" he asked gruffly, his voice betraying none of the emotion that must have been swirling within him too.

You nodded, unable to speak for fear of bursting into tears again. Your dad’s eyes flicked over your bag, then back to your face. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable.

Finally, your dad let out a heavy sigh. "Well, get going then," he said, his voice as neutral as he could manage.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, causing fresh tears to spill down your cheeks. "But… But where am I supposed to go?" you managed to croak out, your voice betraying your fear and confusion.

Your dad's expression softened just a fraction. "That's not my problem," he said, his voice still tense. "You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. I can't have you under my roof when you've been deceiving me like this."

It felt like being stabbed in the heart. You had hoped that, despite his anger and disappointment, he would still have some compassion for you. But his words left no room for doubt. You were being pushed out. "You don’t care what happens to me?" you whispered, your voice small and hurt.

Your dad's face tightened, the lines in his forehead deepening. "Don't put words in my mouth," he snapped. "Of course I care about what happens to you. I’m your dad. But I can't condone what you've done. You've betrayed my trust and disobeyed my rules. You need to learn that actions have consequences."

You nodded, understanding the message. Your tears continued to fall silently as the full weight of your actions crashed down on you. You had crossed a line, and now you were being sent away because of it.

"Go stay with Logan," your dad said, his voice flat. "You like him so much, maybe he can take care of you for a while. See how long your little fantasy world lasts out in the real world."

Shock and disbelief flashed through you at his words. "What?" you exclaimed, your voice rising. "You're sending me to him? After everything that's happened? You can't be serious!"

"No, I'm not joking," your dad said sternly. "You want Logan so badly? Go to him. Let him deal with you for a while. See how he likes having to be responsible for a spoiled, disobedient teenager who has no concept of the real world."

Your heart felt like it was being torn in half. You had never thought it would come to this. "I… I can't stay with him," you protested, your voice thick with tears. "I don't think he even wants me there! And I have a boyfriend!"

Your dad's eyes darkened at the mention of your boyfriend. "You should have thought about that before you started sneaking around behind my back," he snapped. "And Logan can deal with it. He's a big boy. Maybe it's time for him to put his money where his mouth is."

You felt numb as the truth of his words hit you. There was no point trying to argue. You knew your dad had made up his mind. "Fine," you mumbled, your voice hollow. "I'll go."

With that you walked out. It was late and cold. You pulled out your phone and did something you thought you never would again.

"Can you come get me?"

There was a long pause as you waited anxiously, the cold night air stinging your skin. You shivered and hugged your bag closer to your chest, feeling completely alone. Then, finally, your phone buzzed with a reply.

Lo: "Where are you?"

The short message was all that was sent, but it was enough.

You sent him your location and then waited, teeth chattering as the cold seeped into your bones. It felt like an eternity until a familiar car pulled up next to you, the interior warm and inviting.

You opened the door and quickly slid into the passenger seat, the heat of the car like a balm to your freezing body. You avoided looking at the man at the wheel, but you could feel the tension thick in the air.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence as the car pulled away from the curb. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, your chest aching with a strange mixture of guilt, shame, and a small flicker of… something else.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the car pulled into a quiet, residential street, coming to a stop in front of a small house. The engine fell silent, but neither of you made a move to get out. You glanced at him, the light of the street lamp casting a dim glow over his features.

He was staring straight ahead, his hands clenching the steering wheel. His jaw was set and his expression solemn. The line of his shoulders was tense, his body taut like a coil ready to spring. It was clear that he had a lot he wanted to say, but was holding himself back.

The silence between you was thick and charged. He finally turned his gaze from the front windshield to look at you, his eyes dark and intense. "We need to talk," he said, his voice soft but firm.

A mixture of fear and anticipation fluttered in your stomach, the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. "Okay," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the rapid pounding of your heart.

He pushed open the driver's side door, gesturing for you to follow. You got out of the car, the cold air hitting you like a slap in the face. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself as you followed him up the path to his front door.

He unlocked the door, holding it open for you. You stepped into the warm, cozy interior, feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation. The house was small, but comfortable, and you could see glimpses of his life in every corner. Photos on the walls, books on the shelves, a jacket slung over the back of a chair.

He closed the door behind you and then leaned against it, his body blocking the only exit. He didn't say anything, just watched you, his eyes roaming over your face and body as if trying to figure you out.

"Sit."

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

Part 1 Part 2

🏷️: @fablehaven-rulez

#fanfic #marvel fanfiction #logan howlett #wolverine #writeblr #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writing #logan x reader #logan #logan howlett headcanon #logan howlett x reader

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badkitty3000 · 2 days

Note

can u write a five x reader smut where five makes the reader watch him jerk off before fucking them

This request has been in my inbox for a LONG time...sorry. I set this during season four, and it's mixed with my usual sense of humor and confidently sexy Five 😉

Forced Confinement: Friends to Enemies to Lovers

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 5.7k words, one-shot, reader request

Warnings: Smut, explicit sex, masturbation

Summary: You and Five used to be friends. That is, until he got you stuck in the endless cycle of time traveling trains and no way home. Now he is the last person you want to be stuck with at the end of the world. But, after months of resentment and bickering, you and Five finally work out your differences

It had been eleven months. Eleven months since you and Five had taken that stupid fucking train to nowhere. Why you had let him talk you into going with him, you had no idea. You had been friends and you trusted him, sure, but that didn’t mean you wanted to skip out on the real world forever and live in captive domesticity for the rest of your life. You had wanted adventure and danger, which always seemed to follow Five wherever he went. But that’s not what this turned into. This had turned into playing house.

After nine months of mindless travel to various timelines that just seemed to get worse and worse, you were about ready to kill one another. The passive aggressive arguing had gradually turned into bickering, which then turned into outright shouting matches. You wanted to go home, god dammit! You didn’t care that time travel was tricky or unpredictable. He had gotten you into this mess and you demanded that he get you out of it.

To get you to shut up, Five had presented you with a temporary solution. When you came across a mostly still standing house with a greenhouse and clean water, he begrudgingly suggested that you two stay there for a few days. Just to relax, wash up a bit, and gather some food. It would also grant him some time to think about how to navigate this situation you were in. You had agreed, although you had scoped the crappy house out first to determine if there were separate living quarters. There was only one real bedroom, but Five conceded it to you and said he would take the living room floor.

A few days had turned into two months.

You knew he was trying his best. You knew that. And you knew he certainly had never meant to get you stuck in this endless loop of time travel fuckery. He had only been trying to save the world. Again. Only this time, he wanted company. And since you and he had become friends over the course of the five years you had been serving him large quantities of whiskey and beer at your bar, he had asked you.

It’s not that you were best buddies or anything. You had never hung out outside of the bar. But he was a frequent enough customer that you and he had a good rapport. You were comfortable around each other, which you had noticed for Five, was kind of a big deal. And maybe you were a little flirty with one another as well. Not that anything had ever happened between you, but the tension had been there.

So, when Five had come stumbling in one night, seemingly already drunk, and had plopped down on a barstool in front of you with a smart-ass grin on his face, you were intrigued. After a very confusing and convoluted story about something called “marigold” and Five having the power to teleport and time travel, you were already hooked.

How many times had you dreamed of doing something amazing? Something so incredibly exciting and weird that when you told your friends all about it later, they wouldn’t believe you? It was just one of those silly fantasies that never left your head. But the longer you ran that bar, and the more comfortable you got pouring shots and mixing drinks for others, the less likely it became that your fantasy would ever be realized.

But time traveling subway trains and teleportation powers? It was everything you had been waiting for! When he told you his idea of trying to get to the correct timeline and stop another apocalypse from happening, you barely even hesitated.

In those first couple of months, you didn’t really mind being lost with no real way to get back home. It was still exciting and you were getting along great back then. He confided in you; told you he had asked you along because you were his only real friend and he just didn’t want to face the unknown alone again. He had apologized when it became clear he was just as lost as you were, and he promised to get you back safely. You made each other laugh, and invented stupid games to kill the boredom, and would cuddle up together on cold nights even though there was nothing romantic going on. Those were the good times.

But now…now, it was like the two of you were living in some bad sitcom with no laugh track. Five was still good looking, there was no getting around that. Even when he was grubby and dirty and his deodorant gave out months ago. Yes, he was hot, you could admit that. But that wasn’t quite enough to cover the fact that he was an arrogant, know-it-all asshole that was systematically ruining your life. You missed your bed. And your bar. And god, what you wouldn’t do for some fucking fast food. You had dreams about McDonald’s French fries and if Ronald McDonald himself had come walking up to you and told you he’d give you a Big Mac if you sucked his dick, you’d be on your knees in a second. That’s what this had come to; you would blow a clown for a hamburger.

Instead, here you were, in some bullshit little Hobbit house, listening to Five’s snoring from the other room. And if you had to eat another fucking strawberry, you were going to vomit. You would rather eat a dozen half-cooked subway rats than choke down another one of those god damn red berries. Sometimes you laid awake at night, envisioning Five choking on one, his eyes bulging as he panicked and tried unsuccessfully to get air through his blocked trachea. It brought a small amount of comfort to you. Until the morning, when you walked out and saw there were no animals in your traps, and you wanted to cry. No meat. Only fucking strawberries.

“We need more water,” you told him as you came out of the green house where the first few sprouts of cucumbers and green beans were finally starting to come through.

“So? Go get some, then,” Five muttered back at you, his head buried in a notebook while he sat at the wobbly kitchen table.

“No. I’m always the one that has to go get the water. It’s your turn.”

Five glanced up briefly, then looked back down at his incoherent scribblings. “I’m busy.”

“You’re busy?” you asked incredulously. “How the fuck is making little pictures in a book busy?”

He looked up again, his worn-down pencil paused in midair. His eyes narrowed. “They are not little pictures. They are complex mathematical equations that your simpleton mind cannot possibly understand.”

You snorted. “Fuck you.”

One corner of his mouth turned up just slightly and he set his pencil down, leaning back in his chair and draping one arm over the back. Fuck, if he didn’t look amazingly hot like that. Asshole.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been eye-fucking me since we got here. Actually, since before we got here.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “What the…are you delusional? Did you hit your head the last time you were out scavenging? I have, under no circumstances, been eye-fucking you.”

“Ok, sure…whatever you have to tell yourself.”

You placed a hand on your hip and tilted your head to the side. “If anyone is eye-fucking anyone, it’s you to me. I see the way you just so happen to look in my direction when I’m changing clothes.”

“If I do that, it’s only because I want to make sure you’re actually changing into something new instead of wearing that shitty old tank top that smells like dead rats.”

“That is my best tank top! And look who’s talking. Who wears a suit in a fucking apocalypse? It’s insane!”

“At least I don’t walk around with my tits half hanging out. I mean, fuck, those things are going to knock you out the next time you have to run from anything. It’s like you’re just begging for attention.”

You smiled. “Oh, I just bet you’d love to see me running with my tits hanging out, wouldn’t you? Probably play right into some weird-ass Baywatch fantasy you have.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.” He tossed his head so that the piece of hair in his eyes flicked out of the way. “You are wearing the literal last pair of tits in the world right now and I wouldn’t care if you slathered them in baby oil and shoved them in my face.”

You watched as his eyes moved briefly to your chest before landing on your face again. You smirked. “Gosh, Five, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course you don’t want anything do with these.” You ran your hands up your sides and rested them on your breasts. Then you began to rub them and squeeze them together, all while looking him directly in the eye. You gave a little moan and licked your lips. It was subtle, but you saw him swallow and shift in his seat.

Five rolled his eyes, but you could tell you had gotten to him. “While the tits themselves may be alluring, there is the unfortunate fact that they are attached to the body that is powered by your idiot brain. Therefore…not interested.”

You gave them another hard push together, and then let out a short laugh before dropping your hands. “That’s what I thought.”

“What did you think?”

“That you’re a dickless asshole”

Five flashed you that devious smile that you had come to associate with an unfortunate fluttering inside your stomach. “I’ll concede to being an asshole. But dickless? Quite the opposite, sweetheart.”

Your mouth went dry at that implication and you momentarily had a loss for words. After a couple of seconds, though, you regained your cool.

“As much as I’m sure you’d just love to whip out your little pickle dick right now, how about you get your scrawny ass up and go get us some water? Sweetheart.”

Five gave a short laugh. “And as much as I’m sure you’d love to be choking on my pickle right now, like I told you…” He pointed his pencil at the notebook. “I’m busy.”

Without another word, he lowered his head and started scribbling again, ignoring you completely. Your mouth opened in another retaliation, but then it snapped closed again. There was no point in continuing your little childish spat. Five was a stubborn old bastard and it was a waste of time. You might as well go get the damn water yourself.

Giving a loud, dramatic huff, you flipped your hair over your shoulder and stomped away. You did happen to notice, though, that Five looked up to watch you leave. So, as a final act of brattiness, just before you were out of sight, you made sure to bend over and act like you were tying your shoe while wiggling your ass in the air. Which, if Five had the oversized brain he was always saying he did, he would remember that your shoelaces had disintegrated a month ago.

As you angrily made your way to the old well that was your water source, you mumbled out loud to yourself.

“He thinks he’s so fucking smart. Well, he’s not. Just because you’re a smoking hot asshole does not mean you’re a genius, I guarantee you.”

You tripped over a rock and you cursed before continuing on. “And he is dreaming if he thinks I’m the one that wants to fuck him. Granted, it has been a long time since I got laid, but still. I think I can do better than Five Hargreeves, even if he is the last man on earth.”

You approached the old-fashioned well pump that was still in service and started pumping, much more vigorously than needed while you ranted to no one. “Honestly, he is so hard up for some ass, it’s embarrassingly obvious. But, good luck buddy, because that ain’t happening.”

You watched thoughtfully as the water slowly poured into the plastic bucket that served as your portable water reservoir. You stared into the distance; the landscape not quite as bleak as the others you had seen. This one at least had some trees and wildlife. “Still…I did see him shirtless that one time and I can’t seem to get that little image out of my brain. The guy has sex appeal, there’s no doubt about that. And I suppose he’s not all bad. He did let me take the bed, after all. He hasn’t even tried anything, either, which I suppose makes him kind of a gentleman.”

You gave the well a few more pumps to fill the last of the bucket. “But why hasn’t he tried anything? Maybe he doesn’t think I’m attractive? He said he likes women, though. I wonder if he jerks off when I’m not around?”

You smiled to yourself, feeling your chest tighten a little at the thought. “I guess I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t used him as motivation for my own hand-fucking. He might be annoying but I bet he can deliver in certain areas.” You paused a moment more and sighed angrily, looking toward the sky. “Damn it…now I’m horny!” The water started overflowing in the bucket and you realized you’d been pumping the well for too long, wasting your most precious resource.

“Shit!” You stared at the dusty ground that was now turning into a muddy puddle around your feet. “He doesn’t need to know about this, that’s for sure. I don’t need yet another lecture on water preservation.”

Hoisting up the bucket, and holding it against your chest because the handle had given out a week ago, you started back towards the house.

“I’m going insane,” you panted as you made your way up the slight incline. “It’s official; I’ve finally lost it. Stuck out here in the middle of nowhere and talking to myself. Cool.”

As you walked into the house, the water bucket was partially obstructing your view and it sloshed water down your front as you set it heavily down on the floor.

“There,” you declared, out of breath. “Here’s the water, no thanks to – Oh holy shit!”

When you had looked up, you had been assaulted with the sight of Five pleasuring himself right there in your cozy kitchen. You froze, taking in the sight, not able to look away. He was on full display, with the chair pushed out from the table, facing the doorway. His shirt was open, sleeves cuffed up, head thrown back, eyes closed, pants undone, and his cock in his hand. He was languidly stroking himself, appearing to not be in a hurry to finish the job, while he sat there with his legs spread open for all to see. Well, not all to see…just you.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry…shit…what are you? Ok, never mind, um…I’m gonna, yeah, just go…” you stammered while still staring directly at the obscenity before you.

You said you were going to go, but you were rooted to the spot. Eventually, after what seemed like an inordinate amount of time considering what was happening, Five opened his eyes and looked at you. No, not looked. Stared at you. Those bright green eyes bored into you and a small smirk played on his lips.

Still panicking, but also confused as to the very real sensation of moisture not caused by the bucket of water forming between your legs, you abruptly turned to leave.

“Stop.”

Five’s voice was different than usual. Harder. Commanding. And you inexplicably stopped in your tracks.

“Turn around.”

You obeyed and slowly spun around, nervous as to what you might see, or have him see. You were sure the look on your face would give you away.

Five hadn’t moved. He was still stroking himself and he looked like he didn’t have one ounce of shame about it, either.

You swallowed hard. “What…”

“I decided after your little show earlier that I just couldn’t help myself. And now that you’ve got some wet t-shirt action going on, I’m going to need you to stay. I think you owe me that.”

Looking down at yourself, you saw that the spilled water had created a nearly see-through situation over your chest. Even your bra was soaked through, and your nipples were visible through the thin fabric. When you glanced back up, you bit at your lower lip. Despite the blush growing across your cheeks, you were intrigued with this new game.

“Owe you?” you asked, your voice cracking as you tried to keep your cool.

Five groaned quietly, picking up his pace and ignoring your question. “You really do have magnificent tits. Now, take that ratty ass top off.”

You couldn’t believe you were actually going along with his demands. You should be telling him to fuck off and throwing the nearest heavy object toward his head. Instead, you found yourself holding his eye contact while you slowly stripped your wet shirt away and dropped it onto the floor.

There was another deep moan from Five as he worked his shaft over with his whole hand, his breathing becoming louder.

“Bra,” he rasped.

As you unhooked your bra and let it fall on top of your shirt, you smiled at his reaction.

“Fuck honey…I’ve been dreaming about these tits for so long and they do not disappoint.” He groaned low in his throat again. “Perfect.”

You eyed him up and down, taking in the detail of his cock as his fist slid easily over it. It was most definitely impressive. Much more than you had imagined and you found yourself running your tongue over your bottom lip involuntarily.

“Shit, Five…I guess you weren’t kidding. Definitely not dickless.”

“You like what you see?” he asked, looking out under the pieces of hair that had flopped in front of his eyes.

You nodded, and then began to move closer in. “Yeah, I do.”

Five shook his head, pausing his fist fucking momentarily. “I don’t think so, honey. Not yet.”

“Not yet what?” you asked, thoroughly confused. Did he not want you to jump on top of him?

“I know you’re just dying for my cock to be buried deep inside you right now, but you’re going to have to wait. That’s your punishment.”

With your eyebrows drawn together, you suddenly felt very stupid standing there topless while he continued to jack off.

“What the hell…what do you mean? Punishment for what?”

“For walking around all bitchy and complaining about everything. All while throwing your body in my face and leaving me high and dry.”

“What!? You’re the one that has been the asshole –”

“Shut up, sweetheart. I don’t need to hear your mouth. I just need to look at you. Now drop your pants.”

It took a minute for your mind to comprehend just what the fuck was going on here. Five Hargreeves, your friend turned enemy turned…jack off partner?...was ordering you around like you were his own personal interactive porno mag. And you fucking liked it.

As you started unbuttoning your shorts, you gave him a lopsided smile. “So, how long have you been using me as your whack-a-thon inspiration?”

“I could ask you the same,” he snarked back before working just a little harder when your pants came off.

“Since about 3 months in,” you admitted with a shrug, pushing your panties all of the way off.

“Fuuuck,” Five groaned loudly, closing his eyes briefly before scanning your body hungrily. “I think I lasted 2 weeks.”

You laughed, leaning back against the table with your hands behind you as you pushed out your chest. When your eyes caught his again, you let out a soft whimper.

“Damnit…I really want to fuck you right now.”

“I know, darling,” he responded, his voice dripping with condescension. “You’ve made that quite obvious.”

Neither of you said anything more for a moment. The room was filled with the sound of your collective heavy breathing and the slapping noises as Five jacked himself hard and fast. You could see the beads of pre-cum forming around the head. On a whim, you decided to lean in, bending down with your mouth open and tongue out, to daintily lick up the tempting drops. Five growled and flung his head back again while you gave one more flick of your tongue over the slit and backed away again.

“Finger yourself,” he grunted out.

When you smirked, licking all four of your fingers before lowering them between your legs, the sound Five made, a shaking, guttural sound, had you thinking he was on the verge of blowing his load. But he only seemed to concentrate harder, working his fist over his thick shaft. You watched as his thumb traced the underside of his swollen tip, the veins that ran from top to bottom prominently on display. You had never really thought the sight of a man pleasuring himself in front of you would be that hot, but the wetness dripping out of you right now proved that maybe it just depended on the man.

Because watching Five unabashedly fuck himself; his left hand tight around his cock and his hips jerking up in response; the tendons in his forearm taught and straining; his hair hanging messily around his face, his eyes never leaving yours; had you more worked up than you had ever been in your life.

“Fuck, Five,” you moaned as your own hand began to move through your slick folds.

“Damn it, I’m going to come. On your knees,” he growled through clenched teeth.

You dropped down without a second thought, just blindly following his orders. Your hand was still working furiously, and you were unsure if he wanted you to suck his dick or not, so you just waited for further instructions. When he groaned loudly and shifted forward in the chair, his own hand moving fast, you realized what he was going to do.

“Don’t you dare come on my face,” you rasped out. You removed your fingers from yourself so that you could lean back, exposing your chest at a better angle.

With a strangled moan that sounded like some sort of wounded animal, Five bit at his bottom lip while he came; long ropes of cum covering your chest and dripping down your stomach as he unloaded onto you again and again. You watched his face as it contorted in orgasmic bliss before finally relaxing again, his hand slowing, and his body easing back into the chair.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered through heaving breaths; eyes still closed. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”

As you knelt before him, covered in his semen, and still horny, you frowned. “Good for you.”

When he opened his eyes, he had the nerve to laugh and he shook his head. “Give me a minute, ok? I might have a fairly quick refractory period, but it’s not immediate.”

“Hmm, yeah. Likely story,” you said under your breath, although your mouth twitched up with amusement as you stood up. “I’m going to use our most precious resource to wash up.”

“Use it sparingly,” Five reminded you.

“I think I’ll use as much as I want, considering it’s your cum that’s currently drying all over my tits right now.”

“Fair,” Five said with a breathy laugh.

After you found one of the clean rags that doubled as a washcloth, you dipped it in the bucket of cool water and started to wipe at your chest. Five watched you bend over, ringing out the cloth and letting the water run down your breasts and abdomen. His refractory period may not have been instant, but watching you like that was most definitely speeding the process along.

While you were enjoying giving him this show, what you really wanted was a little more satisfaction than just watching him jerking off. With your body as cum-free as it was going to be for the moment, you sauntered back over to Five who was still sitting in the same chair; pants open and semi-hard dick out. When you stood in front of him, he looked up at you through the fringe of hair covering his eyes, that damn smirk of his playing on his lips. Without even thinking, you hauled your right hand back and smacked him across the face.

As he raised a hand to his stinging cheek, he glared up at you. “What the hell was that for?”

With a smile, you straddled his lap, draping both arms over his shoulders and leaning in to kiss him. After biting at his bottom lip, you pulled back.

“That was for stranding me here in this hell hole.” You kissed him again, tugging hard at his hair at the back of his head. “And for being the world’s biggest prick.” Your groin slid over his hard cock and he grunted. “And for looking so fucking hot all the time.”

Five grabbed your chin in his hand, holding you steady as he gazed into your eyes; his deep green ones sparkling as that arrogant look crossed his face again. Gripping your ass tightly with both hands, Five stood up, taking you with him as he slammed your body down onto the rickety kitchen table. When your back hit the wooden top with a thud, the pedestal holding it up wobbled dangerously underneath. You huffed out a loud breath from the impact.

Standing between your legs that were still wrapped around his waist, Five reached down between you, grasping his hard cock and rubbing the tip against your clit. When you gave a tiny whimper, he nodded.

“I’m sorry I got you stuck here. And I’m working on being less of a prick. As for looking hot all the time? That I can’t help so much,” he said with a grin, continuing to massage your slit by running his dick up and down, spreading your wetness over both of you.

“Asshole,” you rasped after sucking in a loud gulp of air. Your hands clutched at the edge of the table and your hips rocked against him.

He shook his head, closing his eyes with a moan before locking onto yours again. “No. If I were an asshole, I would have done what I’ve been dying to do for months now.”

“Which is?”

“Sliding into bed with you in the middle of the night and waking you up with my dick shoved between your legs.”

Your head tipped back as you tried to push yourself harder into his cock that was continually sliding over you in just the right spot. “Oh shit, Five…I wish you would have.”

“You’d like that, huh?”

You nodded. “I’d still have kicked your ass, but not before I’d let you fuck my brains out.”

“How about I fuck your brains out now and we can discuss kicking my ass later?”

“Sounds good,” you breathed out.

Five used his hand to guide himself inside of you. Once the head of his cock was inside, he thrust himself into you, impaling you on his sizeable dick, and watching your face for your reaction.

“Oh god…” you cried, gritting your teeth against the intensity.

“You ok?” he asked as his hands traveled over your thighs, sides, and hips.

You nodded. “Yeah. Definitely ok. Fuck, that feels good.”

With a self-satisfied smirk, Five grabbed your ass tightly with both hands, squeezing each cheek hard and digging his fingers into your flesh. When he started to guide you by pushing and pulling you over his shaft, you let him take full control of your body. With your arms splayed to the sides and your head tipped back against the table top, you wanted him to break you down; strip you of your inhibitions, and make you his.

“Shit…” he hissed through his teeth. “I need…fuck…I need more of you.”

Without warning or consent, he pulled you roughly up by one hand before pulling out of you and yanking you off the table to standing again. Not sure what his game plan was, you just stood there until he stepped out of his pants that had dropped around his ankles, and held you tightly to him. With a long kiss that made you momentarily forget where you were, he pulled back again.

“Floor,” he gasped.

Despite having a perfectly good bed in the other room, you were thinking the same thing he was. There was no time for relocation. You needed him inside of you again. Immediately. Hands clutching at one another, you both clumsily dropped to the floor. There was a moment of ungraceful maneuvering while you hastily repositioned yourself, but once Five was on his back and you were mounting him again, his dick slid inside once more and you let out a high-pitched whine.

In between grunts and whimpers as you started to move your hips, you attacked his mouth, face, and neck with kisses. Eventually, one of his hands came to rest in your hair. When you looked him in the eyes, he was smiling. Not his normal, asshole smirk. An actual, affectionate smile.

“I’m not sure why we waited this long,” he said before kissing you deeply, while also bucking his hips up, driving his dick in harder.

“Because we hated one another,” you explained as he sucked kisses onto your neck.

“Not always…fuuckk…” he moaned when you slammed harder on top of him.

“I kind of don’t hate you now.”

Five laughed and squeezed one of your breasts in his hand, hard enough to make you hiss through your teeth.

“Five….” you whined.

“Keep fucking me, baby. Harder.”

You were fucking him as hard as you possibly could. So hard that you were seriously concerned about the health of your knees as they bore most of your weight and dug into the hard dirt floor of your crappy kitchen. But that didn’t stop you. Riding his dick like it was somehow essential to your existence, you had never wanted anyone more than you did right then. You couldn’t control the loud cries and broken sobs that filled the small kitchen, and Five wasn’t exactly being quiet either.

“Oh shit, honey…please keep doing that…I’ve wanted this so badly.”

After one more long kiss, you could feel your body start to reach its climax. As Five grasped your hips again, working you over even faster, you let yourself go with a broken moan that got louder the more your body reacted to his. With your back arched, head tipped back, and your hips twitching wildly, Five clenched his teeth and looked down between your bodies. He could see the white lather of your arousal coating his cock. With a husky growl, Five pushed you down and came inside you.

Gasping for air, you collapsed into him, chests heaving against one another. He held you loosely, his hands idly caressing your back and hair.

“Five?” you panted; nuzzling your nose and mouth into the side of his sweat-damp neck.

“Yeah?”

“If you had been fucking me like that this whole time, these last several months could have been much more enjoyable.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “If I were more confident in my time travel skills, I would go back and remedy that.”

As your playful kisses traveled over his neck and cheek, you gave him one last, deep kiss on his mouth before pulling back again. You stared deeply into his eyes that you only just now realized were so easy to get lost in.

Moving a stray piece of hair from his forehead, you smiled sweetly. “While I definitely would not mind more of your amazing dick action, I am going to murder you if I have to spend one more day in this strawberry hellhole.”

Five matched your snarky grin with his own, and smacked your ass swiftly. “Off.”

Rolling your eyes, but not able to hide the blush that dusted your cheeks again when he took that tone with you, you unfurled yourself from his body and stood up. Offering a hand out, you helped Five to his feet.

“While the thought crossed my mind to leave you in the dark just so I can get some more action, I don’t have the heart. Look,” he said as he pointed to his notebook that had just recently been pinned under your body on the table.

When you looked closer at his illegible scrawls, you frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“I did it.”

You looked back over at him with raised eyebrows. “Did what?”

“Found our way home. While you were out getting water, I figured it out.”

As the realization of what he was saying washed over you, you shrieked and threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling his damp, naked body into yours. “Five! Oh my god, you did it! We can go home?”

He nodded, a giant smile growing over his face. “I think so. And I think I figured it out so that we will have time to stop the whole mess that was starting to go down before we left, too. I think we can save the world.”

“Oh my god! This is amazing!” You pulled him tighter and kissed him hard on the lips, still smiling. “Five, you’re amazing!” Then a thought came to you and you tilted your head to the side. “Hang on…if you figured this out while I was out getting water…were you really jerking off to thoughts of me, or just your own mathematical genius?”

Five shrugged with that sexy, lopsided smile of his. “Can’t it be a little of both?”

“Holy shit,” you laughed. “Let’s get the fuck out of here and go home.”

Five pulled you close with a jerk, his arm around your waist and his hand resting securely on the small of your back. With a look that made your heart flip in your chest and your knees weak and wobbly, Five leaned in to kiss you, biting gently at your lips before pulling away and rubbing his cheek across yours.

“Why leave now? We have all the time in the world and things were just getting good,” he said, his voice low and smooth; the rush of his hot breath down your neck sending shivers down your spine.

“Ok,” you breathed out before tipping your head back so he could access your neck. “What’s a few more days?”

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