#Turning Back Time (Without Turning Back on Wellness) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wonustars · 3 days ago

Text

In Front of Me (1)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: no smut in this part :p ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

⊹ what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!

prologue.

Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone.

In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade.

He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems.

“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone.

Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits.

Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit.

“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think.

“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.”

“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen.

“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh.

“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak.

“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance.

“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed.

“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly.

“Good night, Wonwoo.”

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you?

act one, favorite crime.

chapter one.

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat.

The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway.

It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together.

“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you.

“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide.

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond.

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up.

Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation.

“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once.

“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises.

The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts.

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that.

You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else.

two.

“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way.

Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite.

The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear.

You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people.

“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend.

“What did he say?”

“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye.

Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate.

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms.

It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice.

“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.

three.

Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?

You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried.

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch.

“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him.

“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging.

Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache.

“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension.

Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone.

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another.

“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table.

“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins.

It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken.

Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions.

“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats.

He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?”

The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there.

“I mean, I don’t have a ride so…” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen.

“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch.

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest.

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything.

“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression.

“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head.

“Of course, what are best friends for?”

four.

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all.

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.

When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love.

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea.

When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn’t even bat an eyelash at him last year.

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year.

Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time.

When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice.

“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth.

Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?

Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.

“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said.

“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly.

You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically.

“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again.

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings.

Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones.

five.

By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you.

You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him. The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him.

Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios.

‘What if he likes you back?’

‘You never know until you try.’

‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’

What if.

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit.

The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality.

A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen.

7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5.

There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary.

Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends.

Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza.

Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is.

The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar.

“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night.

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car.

Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you.

The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough.

…

The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings.

Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most.

“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all.

His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry.

“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful.

Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you.

Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside.

As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for.

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back.

“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug.

Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.

“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.”

His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself.

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt.

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions.

“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist.

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.”

“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter.

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo.

“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him.

Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile.

“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you.

“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest.

“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said.

“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled.

“And I you.”

…

Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night.

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them.

The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened.

As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ.

“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead.

“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh.

“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters.

Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics.

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.

The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you.

Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.

Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep.

1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok?

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

chapter one.

Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him.

By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning.

Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing.

He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two?

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling.

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been.

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it.

…

Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him.

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them?

1:27 p.m. [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond.

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u. [1 photo attachment]

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today?

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed.

4:30 p.m. [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw.

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back.

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.

two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year.

The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over.

Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him.

He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.

Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say.

There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore.

“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?”

Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression.

“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight.

“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance.

“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet.

It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed.

[4:15 p.m. kst] [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved] [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards] [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! 🫶]

He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit.

Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat.

Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all.

[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment] [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing] [you: u better not snitch 😾] [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS] [you: ok thats enuff…txt me when u land!]

Wonwoo really missed you.

…

One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it.

He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break.

It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off.

Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all.

Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home.

“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest.

His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym.

“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips.

“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle.

Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused.

“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?”

“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo.

“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses.

Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord.

“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes.

“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say?

“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s.

Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun.

“I’m Wonwoo.”

“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep.

Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number.

They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer.

To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation.

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon.

…

The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for.

Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on.

Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time.

…

Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them.

Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested.

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks.

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out.

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.”

“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday.

You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together. It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend.

It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do.

“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts.

“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence.

Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.

Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on.

Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer.

three, present time.

The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that.

“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him.

The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party.

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table.

Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop.

“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted.

Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you.

Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end.

“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs.

“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses.

It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.

“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice.

For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest.

Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny.

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare.

“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend?

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression.

“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself.

Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you.

“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more.

“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?”

Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it.

“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses.

Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you?

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything?

Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be.

Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him.

“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.”

“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.

“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs.

“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy.

“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests.

Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought.

four.

For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time.

Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place.

Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building?

After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye.

“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.

Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin.

The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind.

He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today.

Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer.

…

There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind. Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away.

There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.

Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before.

The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake.

One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose?

Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him.

[12:52 a.m.] [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?] [not delivered]

The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list.

Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms.

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions.

The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off?

five.

Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options.

It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect.

He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation.

Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison.

Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.”

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day.

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth.

Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard.

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have.

Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin.

A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for.

“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen.

“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could.

Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.”

There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth.

Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such.

“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face.

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.”

“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.”

“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted.

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture.

Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”

The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost.

“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.”

The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly.

…

Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place.

After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.

With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.

Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same.

If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak.

As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on?

Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away.

After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin.

“Minnie? Did you leave something agai—,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.

“Wonwoo…” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door.

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions.

His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home.

“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?” Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him.

How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying.

“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness.

He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him.

Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down.

“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking.

“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.”

“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words.

The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense.

“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice.

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about? He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.”

Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause.

“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him.

“Wonwoo…” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place.

“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading.

A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.

The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too.

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.” A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek.

He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart.

Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

end of act one.

⊹ a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.

#jeon wonwoo #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #svthub #Hiraya-M #thediamondlifenetwork #seventeen fic #wonwoo x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #svt fic #svt smut #svt fanfic #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo seventeen #svt imagines

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nightingale-prompts · 2 days ago

Text

Overworked- DCxDP prompt

The knight led the group of selected heroes into the throne room. Sitting before a crowd of his people was none other than the ghost king.

"Do not test His Majesty, his mood his well this day. Say only what is necessary." The knight warned before stepping aside.

The kind wasn't what Constantine had mentioned. He was young and rather small for the throne he now sits on. The green flaming crown was unmistakable though.

The young man glared at them with intense animosity, his upper lip curled as he held back a reflexive snarl. Sharp canines peeked out just for a moment as he schooled his expression.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" The kind said drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair. His black claws each clicking aginst the cold metal.

The group had been briefed on the situation by Constantine after they were summoning to this realm.

The short and sweet was that they were being mandated to appear before the king of the infinite realms for a long list of violations against the order of the universe. The current group contains Bruce, Clark, Wally, Kon, Jason, Hal, Barry, and Damian. Constantine himself will also be there but he already knows that this tribunal will have multiple groups.

The group reamined mostly silent.

"Where you not read your list of crimes?" The boy asked this time.

An attendant scurried through the crowd with a large scroll in hand before the king immediately waved him off tp return to his post.

"No, lets skip the reading. It would take cycles to get through the charges. Let me be brief. You have all been found guilty of charges of resurrection, time traveling, timeline manipulation, Planetary rearranging courtesy of Mr.Kent here, Interdimensional universe travel, and UNIVERSE MELDING! THE LIST GOES ON!" The king became more irate with every charge. "Tell me why I shouldn't banish you to an empty dimension right this instance."

Constantine knew this was all politics at the end of the day. This whole thing could be smoothed over with the right words by the right person.

"We are human." Bruce said firmly before anyone could stop him. Jason held back a groan of agitation.

"...So you are. What does that have to do with anything?" He boy asked.

"Isn't it natural for us to want to live and do whatever we can to keep living?" Bruce responded

Murmurs erupted amongst the crowd of onlookers.

"So what? Do you think you are the exception then? Look around heroes. This room is full of ghosts who would also have done to keep living. My people couldn't avoid death but they accepted it. What can I say to them if I let you go while they paid their price? How fair would that be?" The king condemned.

The murmurs turned into cheers for their king's words. It was unfair. Why do they get to do what they want without repercussions when they died without even getting the option to live?

"If it counts for anything many of us died to protect as many people as possible," Hal said.

"Well, good for you. How much was that sacrifice worth in the face of your resurrection? That probably doesn't feel cheap at all." The king said sarcastically. "I suppose that goes for most of you."

"I have an objection. Resurrection is not a choice if someone chooses to bring us back we don't get a say. By default we shouldn't be charged for it." Jason argued.

The king paused and raised a hand silencing the crowd.

"Hmmm, I suppose you are correct. Fine, I will strike it from the record." The kind relented.

The heroes had finally found an in. If they could argue their charges down they could leave.

"None of use have willingly time traveled. Hell i hated it. Being lost in time was not a chose we made." Wally said as Barry nodded along.

The king bit the inside of his cheek as he pondered the response.

"I suppose I can overlook it."

"Let me just say that any melding of the universe happened as a consequence of our battle with Darkside." Clark said getting rid of their their biggest charge.

"Darkside?" The king narrowed his eyes.

A courtier stepped forward and leaned down to whisper into the boy king's ear.

"I see. He will be added to the ledger for his crimes. His trial will not be as forgiving as yours. You will not be seeing him again." The boy silently signaled to the knight who bowed and exited with a group of others.

The boy sighed and stood up.

"Follow me."

The group was led down a long corridor to an office with stacks of paperwork from floor to ceiling lining the walls.

"Welcome to my personal hell." The king announced.

Constantine whistled at the sheer number of documents scattered across the room.

"Sorry about the whole court thing. I don't really want to do it but I kind of have to. The Observers demand some kind of punishment for violations. Also, you need to understand that your actions are kept track of and you can't escape it. When you break the rule I have to do the paperwork. AND I HATE PAPERWORK. So here is the deal. You guys bring me the people that have done worse than you on this list and I'll call it square. And if you don't I take everyone's souls." The King handed the scroll to Bruce. "I want the Al Ghul clan first."

"Wait but my-" Damian spoke out but was cut off by the King's raised hand to silance him.

"It is irrelevant to me what your personal issues are. Every violator will be judged for their crimes. If they can give me a good plea then they can return. Consider yourself lucky that you're too young for a full sentencing. As for the rest just do what I say and make up for your crimes. This is a mercy so don't complain."

It was clear that the moody young king wasn't going to argue. It was best to keep quiet and before they knew it the group was sent back to earth.

"You have no idea how lucky we got," Constantine said lighting up a cigarette and leaving to get a drink.

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #danny phantom #ghost king danny #batman #superman #bruce wayne #jason todd #damian wayne #clark kent #hal jordan #barry allen

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whytheylosttheirminds · 1 day ago

Text

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 8 (part two)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 6.2k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

A blood curdling shriek rang through the house, jolting Carter from her restless dreams.

She sat straight up in bed, heart racing as she looked around the dark room, head so heavy she could barely remember where she was or how she got there.

In her hungover mental fog, she pieced it together slowly. She was at the beach house, in her room, it was early, she drank so much last night and Topper said -

“OH MY GOD!”

Another sharp scream came from downstairs, and her heart rate spiked all over again. She pulled the fluffy comforter around her shoulders and hurried out of the room, quiet on the stairs as she nervously approached the source of all the commotion.

When she saw what was inducing Sabrina’s shock, she doubled back, hiding around the corner so they couldn’t see her. Her stomach churned with bitter loathing, and something else even more nauseating…

She dropped the blanket and rushed to the half-bath off the house’s entryway, doubled over the toilet bowl as last night’s poor choices continued to haunt her.

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Rafe drove faster than he had before your interrupted rendezvous, seeming not to want to drag this adventure out anymore. You eyed him nervously from the passenger seat, searching for words that weren’t coming to you.

Tongue tied and exhausted was not how you wanted to begin this…whatever this was between you. Rafe had given you words, so many of them, back on the beach and all he asked in return was a simple yes or no.

Are you my girl?

No four words had ever felt so heavy. The shitty part was, you wanted to say yes. At the sound of his breathless question every cell in your body was screaming yes! I’m your girl! I’ve always been your girl!

But then there was that pesky piece of self preservation that cemented itself in your heart all those years ago and didn’t plan to give up any time soon.

He looked so disappointed when you couldn’t give him a quick and easy answer, his chest now deflated and shoulders sunken as he drove the rest of the route home. Despite your lingering hesitation, you felt like you needed to give him something, needed to lift the frown that was settled on the lips you had tasted so many times this morning.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“For what?” He asked.

“I’m…slow,” you began, “it takes me a while, y’know? To find the words. I’m not like you, I don’t know how you came up with that speech in less than a minute.”

Rafe laughed, confusing you.

“What?”

“You think I came up with that speech in a minute?” He chuckled, “I’ve been practicing it every day since senior year of high school.”

Your heart clenched at the endearing thought of him in front of the mirror, driving to class, taking a shower all while rehearsing what he’d say if you ever gave him the chance.

“Oh,” you tucked your hair behind your ear.

It was infuriating, your complete inability to get a grip on your own thoughts and feelings around him. It had always been this way. You were well-spoken and sound-minded, until this one person was in your atmosphere, his presence your own personal kryptonite.

To be fair to yourself, it wasn’t just your own weakness for him that had caused you to build such high walls. When you were kids, he sometimes made you feel this way on purpose. He used to have fun watching you get flustered, just the right amount of flirting to send you into a tizzy, only to leave you spinning like a top with no one to stop you.

You truly tried to leave the past behind, burying it somewhere back in the sand on the beach. You reminded yourself that the Rafe of your memories was not the one sitting next to you right now. But that might just be the problem, because at least you knew that Rafe, you knew exactly what he would do next.

If he grabbed your hand, you knew he was about to drop it. If he said something sweet, you knew he was about to say something passive aggressive. If he acted like he loved you, you knew he was about to act like he’d never met you a day in his life.

But this Rafe, this new one, was completely unpredictable. Wild and dangerous in his apparent affection for you. How were you supposed to know what he did next wasn’t going to hurt? He was right about what he said on the jet ski - you won’t know until you give him the chance. Easier said than done.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he offered after you’d been quiet for a long time.

“This week has just been…” trying to come up with one word to describe it felt like a futile task.

“Overwhelming?” Rafe tried to help.

“Surprising,” you countered. “I’ve never been good with surprises.”

“You like to know what’s coming next,” he nodded, once again displaying a deep knowledge of you that you never knew he possessed.

Like he could read your mind, his arm stretched across the small divide and his palm, warm and soft, settled on your thigh, a single soothing stroke to let you know he’s still here, he’s still yours. The feeling of his skin touching yours was like aloe vera directly on the burn.

With a grateful smile, you leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath as he steered you home.

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Carter padded down the hall, stopping three separate times, trying to decide if she should just go back to her own room. But the sight of her frantic texts to you still saying “delivered” and not “read” was too concerning to ignore.

She opened Topper’s door without knocking.

He was sitting up against his headboard, typing feverishly on his phone. At the sight of her, he clutched his duvet cover, pulling it up higher over his nearly naked body.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?”

“Please, like I haven’t seen it all before. Like I didn’t see it yesterday,” she rolled her eyes.

“Oh okay, so you do remember. Based on the way you were acting last night I thought maybe you’d forgotten we’d ever been together,” he snipped at her.

“I don’t want to talk about last night,” she waved him off, dismissing his complaints flippantly, “are you aware of what’s happening downstairs right now? Of who is happening downstairs right now?”

“Yes, I saw her pull up,” he returned his attention to his phone and his frenzied typing.

Outside his cracked open door, Carter heard Kelce, Tom, and a few others come barreling up the stairs, chatting about the recent arrival.

“Be so fucking for real, did you invite her?” Carter said, attempting to lower her voice.

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but you do this thing where you think you’re whispering and you’re actually not,” Topper informed her.

“Topper…”

“No, I didn’t invite her.,” he answered. “Actually I was about to ask if you did.”

“Why the fuck would I do that? I hate her.”

“Wow alright, hate's a strong word, Carter, maybe calm down a little.”

Ever since their knock-down-drag-out at the club last night, the arguing that was usually playful and lighthearted had an edge of actual bitterness to it.

“First of all, if you ever tell me to ‘calm down’ again, I’m going full Lorena Bobbitt on your ass. Second of all, you need to go down there and tell her to leave,” she flicked her hair behind her shoulder and held her chin up as she bossed him around. He hated that despite how mad at her he was, he fucking loved it.

“How does that job possibly fall on me?” He scoffed.

“Aren’t you Mr. Team Rafe-and-my-sister? Don’t you want to get rid of the reason they stopped talking in the first place?” She reasoned.

“I’m not gonna tell her she can’t be here,” he shut her down. “It’s not my house, and it’s really none of my business. Or yours.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, “oh yeah? Then who are you texting so much over there?”

“I’m just giving him a head’s up,” he shrugged. “She should probably know too.”

“And you’re just assuming they’re together?” She snarled.

“Puh-lease,” he rolled his eyes, “did you see them at the club last night? There’s no way they didn’t hook up.”

She wouldn’t accept it, couldn’t, even though she knew somewhere deep in her gut that he was probably right.

When Rafe still didn’t answer any of his texts, Topper sighed heavily, “fuck it, I don’t care if I’m cockblocking, I’m calling him.”

Before he could dial, the house shook with the slam of the front door. Carter and Topper hurried out to the hall and hesitated at the top of the steps. Your lone voice carried up to them, talking to no one in particular as you muttered, “un-fucking-belivable.”

Carter actually did whisper this time, “I think it might be too late for that…”

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The feeling of Rafe’s hand, warm and steady on your thigh, as he drove the rest of the route home was so nice and comforting, you let yourself slip into the possibility that this could actually be it. Maybe you really could just leave the past behind you, maybe you really had finally found each other and it could just be simple like this.

But your fantasy didn’t last long.

Rafe parked in the spot across the street that you had taken Carter’s car from a few hours ago. Even when he turned the key and cut the engine, he didn’t remove his hand from your leg.

“You ready?” He sighed.

“For what?” You questioned, eyeing him curiously, his face serious as he looked down at the site of his hand on your skin.

He shook his head like he didn’t know the answer himself, “reality, I guess.”

You placed your hand over his, smirking at the sight of your fingers encompassing each other’s, wanting so much more from these hands and truly believing you’d have all the time in the world to enjoy them.

“Bring it on,” you gave him a small smile.

“He leaned across the center console and dropped a deep kiss to your lips, causing you to sigh into his mouth. All the times you imagined kissing him, you never thought such a rough-around-the-edges guy would have such soft lips. You felt like you might be able to spend forever with them on your skin.

When he finally pulled away, you reached for the handle of your door, beginning to open it, but Rafe reached across your body and pulled it shut again.

“What are you doing?” You asked in surprise.

He smiled that perfect, dimpled grin of his, “extra credit.”

You giggled as he hurried to climb out of the driver’s side, hurrying around to your door and opening it with a chivalrous flair.

“Wow,” you beamed, accepting his hand as he helped you down from the tall vehicle. “You weren’t kidding about trying to be a gentleman.”

“For you, I’ll be anything,” he flirted.

Despite your best efforts not to, you blushed, the red hue on your cheeks deepening when Rafe kept your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours as you walked back to the house. It was the first time he’d held your hand out in the open like this, where anyone could look out from the windows of the beach house and see the two of you together. It was foreign to you, his public display of affection, and yet it felt so right. You couldn’t help but wish it hadn’t taken this long.

“Can I ask you something?” You said quietly.

“Anything,” he squeezed your hand assuringly.

“Why didn’t we do this a long time ago?”

Rafe’s face fell slightly, watching his feet as they made less and less forward progress on the sidewalk, until he came to a full stop. The question was mostly meant to be lighthearted, a tease really, but his solemn reaction made your stomach twist with concern.

“I…” he started, voice unsteady, not meeting your eyeline, “I don’t know if I should tell you this but -”

You never knew what he wasn’t supposed to tell you, because before he could, a sickeningly familiar voice called out from the front porch.

“Hey guys!”

Head snapping toward the sound, you looked up, and there she was, as stunning as ever in that same signature everything-you’re-not-ness.

Cassie Bryant.

Her face was adorned with a glistening smile, yours was noticeably not. Everything in you sunk, including the corners of your lips, completely unable to hide the way your heart dropped six feet under the ground at the sight of her.

She was somehow even more golden and glowing now than she was back then. Glossy blonde hair flowing down her back like a waterfall of silk. Her perfect, blemish free skin glowed in the early morning light. Her big, round Disney Princess eyes quickly found Rafe and flicked over your joined hands, clocking the way they were folded together in unmistakable intimacy.

It happened so quickly, and yet it felt like years worth of hurt and heartache compacted into one small moment.

At the sight of Cassie on the porch, Rafe dropped your hand.

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Surely, any minute now, a camera crew would pop out from the bushes and announce that you were being Punk’d.

Or maybe it’d be the Mythbusters:

The myth? That you can actually heal from your childhood trauma with just four years of painstaking hard work. Well, we’re about to prove that all of that can be unraveled in the span of 72 hours! Also, we will be using your heart as our crash test dummy. Myth busted!

You didn’t look over at Rafe, couldn’t bear to watch the way he pulled his body away from yours, ever-so-slightly, almost imperceptibly. But you could feel it all the same, and you were sure she could too.

Before Cassie could say anything else, the front door opened behind her, Sabrina stepping out of the house and taking in the unfolding scene on the lawn.

“Oh shit,” she laughed, “this is awkward!”

It’s like her main goal in life was to find new and creative ways to make your bad moments worse.

“Is it?” Cassie asked, seemingly unaware of the cause of Sabrina’s laughter. “We were just saying hi.”

She caught your eye as she said it, a polite but knowing smile on her lips. You realized with shock that she absolutely knew what was happening and was trying to make you feel better about it. You should just be grateful for the unexpected kindness, but something in you was suspicious. The Cassie you knew would’ve jumped at the chance to embarrass you, and she would’ve loved the way Rafe was treating you like you had the plague.

Plus, her taking pity on you, acknowledging the way Rafe had just hurt you, was somehow worse than her just being mean to you. You’d rather she go back to that.

“Y’all having a good trip?” She asked you and Rafe when the silence had lasted just a little too long.

You looked to Rafe, waiting for him to answer, begging him silently to say something that indicated that you were in fact having a good trip…together.

But he just said, “it’s been cool. Weather’s shit, though.”

“Yeah that’s what Sab told me, but I got a few days off my internship so I thought I’d come hang with y’all,” she said, eyes on you as she spoke, like she owed you an explanation.

“Well, welcome, then,” you smiled a polite smile that didn’t meet your eyes.

“You ready?” Sabrina asked, linking arms with Cassie, thick as thieves.

“We’re going into town for some brunch if you guys want to join,” Cassie offered.

“That’s okay, I need to check on Carter,” you declined, all eyes turning to Rafe for his response.

“Uh yeah, I’m good here, th-thanks,” he stuttered, so awkward and shaky, a completely different person from the guy who was delivering monologues and sweeping you off your feet just a few hours ago.

Cassie just smiled politely once more as Sabrina pulled her into the car. As they drove off, you stood wordlessly with Rafe on the front walk, your chest completely hollow. You mustered some nerve and finally looked at him, head tilted, a completely unamused smile tugging your lips.

“Weather’s shit?” You repeated his words back to him.

“Look…” he began but didn’t finish the thought.

You just laughed humorlessly, shaking your head at him as you stormed off toward the house. Rafe stood frozen for a moment, kicking himself mentally and begging his brain to catch up with the moment, finally rushing off after you, but not able to before you slammed the door in his face.

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Carter and Topper exchanged nervous glances at the sound of you stomping into the house.

They slowly and quietly settled on the top step, sitting forward to listen in as the front door opened and closed again, Rafe’s voice echoing through the house.

“Wait…” he said, following after you as you marched further into the house toward the kitchen.

You didn’t stop, “No, go ahead, you should go to brunch with her. Don’t let me keep you from a good time.”

“Wait, let’s just talk,” he pleaded.

“I’m too tired, Rafe,” you rejected him. “I can’t do this right now.”

“So you’re not even gonna let me explain?”

At the top of the steps, Carter and Topper simultaneously held their breath as they listened, both jumping as Kelce’s voice startled them, “what are we listening to?”

“Shhh,” Carter waved her hand at him, motioning for him to shut up.

Kelce plopped himself between them on the top step, shuffling a bit so they’d make room for him. He listened in, picking up your and Rafe’s raised voices quickly.

“Oh shit,” he barely whispered, “trouble in paradise already?”

“Dude shut up,” Topper cut him off.

Soon, Maddie, Tom and Jack joined the little huddle on the top step, each cluing in on the source of the entertainment in their own disruptive way before being shushed by the group and eventually sitting. You continued your argument with Rafe, completely unaware you were performing in front of a live studio audience.

“You don’t need to explain,” you told him, trudging down the front hall toward the kitchen. “I know exactly what just happened because it’s happened a thousand times before. What I don’t know is why I’m even surprised.”

“Come on,” he caught up to you, stopping you in your tracks as his large frame rounded you. “It is not the same as it used to be.”

“It’s exactly the same,” you side-stepped him, walking into the kitchen and dropping Carter’s keys on the counter. “I mean jesus Rafe, it’s the same fucking person! I can’t believe I’m here again, it’s like I’m having a nightmare where I’m back in high school. Next thing you know I’m gonna walk into homeroom and I realize I’m completely naked.”

“Sounds more like a dream to me,” he smirked, trying to flirt.

You just blinked back at him, your sharp eyes cutting straight through his head.

“Do you think this is funny?”

His smirk dropped, snatched right off his lips by your ice cold tone. Good. You’d been waiting years to wipe that shit eating grin off his face.

Something new was rising in your chest, knocking out the embarrassment and sadness with a closed fist, a fury long buried coming back with a vengeance.

“I thought all that shit was behind us, over and done.” Rafe reached out towards you but you stopped him with your own rough grip, lowering his hand away from you and dropping it like he’d dropped yours.

“Oh, it’s fucking done alright, so fucking done,” you spat.

“You’re really gonna let ten stupid seconds ruin everything that’s happened between us? You’re not even gonna give me the benefit of the doubt. You really think that little of me?”

“It’s literally only been two hours, and you’ve already lied to me once and pushed me away the second someone saw us. And you wonder why I'm having a hard time saying yes to being with you? It’s because I fucking can’t trust you, Rafe!”

“I don’t know what else I can do to show you I’m different,” he threw his hands up in exasperation. “This is so fucking unfair.”

“Are you being fucking serious right now?” You stepped towards him as you snapped at him. “You’re actually pissed at me?”

“Yeah, I am!”

“Why?”

“Because I lost my best friend!”

Everyone on the top of the stairs winced, air sucked from the room when Rafe raised his voice at you. For all his flaws and mistreatment, he had never raised his voice at you before.

“Oh shit,” Kelce whispered.

“Shhh!” Carter and Maddie hushed him in unison, everyone leaning in a little closer to hear how you’d react. But you said nothing. They couldn’t see the widening of your eyes, jaw locked tight as you gave him space to follow up on his outburst.

“Do you really think it didn’t hurt me when you just up and stopped talking to me back then?” He took the space you gave him and slowly unpacked the hurt feelings he’d buried for years. “I know I was a dick, I shouldn’t have taken advantage of how you felt about me, I shouldn’t have strung you along. But when that shit went down senior year and you just ghosted me, I wanted to talk to you and make it right. I tried, but you blocked me out, you went from talking to me every day to radio silence without giving me a single explanation. That fucking hurt. And you’re doing the exact same thing now, not even giving me a chance to explain things. So yeah, I am a little pissed. I’m pissed that you’re just gonna throw it all away again over nothing.”

He waited for your response with baited breath, prepared for you to yell, or cry, or do something. But you gave him nothing, mouth closed in a tight line as you turned on your heel and walked further into the kitchen, lifting the coffee pot from its home and filling it in the sink.

He watched your back as you scooped the grounds into the filter and turned on the machine. Minutes passed and you remained silent, hands on the counter, looking out the big window towards the ocean while the coffee brewed one drop at a time.

Finally, after eight cups had dripped into the pot, you spoke.

“How was prom, by the way?” You turned to face him, the edge of the marble countertop digging into your waist as you leaned back against it, hands crossed in hostility over your chest. “I never asked.”

Rafe’s gaze fell from you almost instantly. He didn’t have to ask why you were bringing this up, the ‘hell hath no fury’ look on your face dragging the memory forth from its carefully hidden spot in the back of his brain. Nothing made him feel like a jackass quite like that memory, and based on the mocking curve at the corner of your lips, you knew it.

The memory used to keep you up at night.

For a full year after it happened, it was like a fire poker bent into the shape of regret and shame was branding your heart over and over.

Now, the burn was healed over, still calloused and red at the edges, but you’d done your best to cover the scar tissue in the healing balms of self-love and lots and lots of therapy. Still, it was the moment in your life you were the least proud of.

You’d thought it was gonna be you. Really, earnestly, completely delusionally, you believed when he asked for your help with his grand prom-posal that it was all a playful ruse to ask you to be his date. You stayed up all night, decorating three different poster boards with glitter glue so he could pick the one he liked best. You bought out all the battery-powered candles at Michael’s - he said he’d pay you back, he never did. You waited with him in the park until the sun set, giddy with the hope that he’d drop the ruse and pop the question any minute.

“What will you do if ‘she’ says no?” You attempted to flirt.

“I guess I’d just have to take you.”

Every muscle in his body flinched at the memory and the white hot regret he felt every time it replayed in his head.

The kid who said those words was such an asshole. Standing here in the kitchen, looking down at you, the love of his goddamn life, and facing the possibility that he might lose you for good, he wanted to ring the idiot’s neck.

Because he hadn’t asked you. He made you watch while he asked her. And he didn’t even give you a ride home from the park.

Fuck, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he was you, either.

Rafe felt about two feet tall, looking back at you with absolutely nothing to say. He was relieved for a second when you opened your mouth to speak first, until he heard the words.

“You don’t understand. The voice in the back of my head, the one I’ve spent years trying to silence, the one that tells me I’m not enough, that I’ll never be enough…it’s your voice, Rafe.”

He grasped desperately for a reply, but there were no words in the English language that made that statement any less devastating.

“Maybe that’s not fair,” you continued before he could come up with anything, “but I don’t think I have control over that. I don’t know how to undo it, if it can be undone. So those ten seconds that just happened out there? They’re not nothing to me. When you dropped my hand at the sight of her, I felt like I was that stupid teenage girl again, giving my whole heart to the one person who knows how to break it. Blind and foolish and desperate for you to notice her. I don’t like that girl.”

You made it through the whole speech with a steady voice, up until the last sentence. Your voice cracked on those words, your heart doing the same as you pictured your younger self. The one who would sit on her bed for hours, rereading the texts she sent him and praying he’d reply.

Thinking about that version of yourself, you weren’t sure if you wanted to hug her or slap her. Surely, she’d hit you right back if she saw what you were doing now, potentially pushing away the boy she loved more than anything, finally having him within your grasp and letting him slip right through.

At the top of the stairs, unbeknownst to you, Carter was picturing that girl, too. She would roll her eyes at you back then, using sarcastic comments like “are you sure Rafe even knows how to read?” to mask her truer concern; that he could but he wouldn’t, and the heart you wore on your sleeve would end up crushed again. Even now, she couldn’t protect it, couldn’t save it from reaching out to this boy who did nothing but break it.

Frustration welled inside her, the absolute powerlessness to put an end to this cycle that hurts you feeling like a dark cloud over her head. The anger manifested into hot, watery tears gathering on her lash line. Without permission, one slipped through, rolling down her cheek slowly.

Topper caught the whole thing, and despite their fight and his resolve to freeze her out until she apologized, he couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out and stroking her cheek softly, wiping the tear away with a gentle swipe of his thumb.

They shared a look so full of unspoken words and tender emotions that they almost forgot about the conversation in the kitchen, until Rafe’s voice cut through the moment and pulled them from their silent reconciliation.

“Are you okay?” He asked you after you’d been silent for nearly a minute, trying desperately to compose yourself.

“Yes, that's all just a lot. I’m processing,” you sniffled.

“Take your time,” he said, pulling out one of the high back stools from the counter and motioning for you to sit in it.

Your body was so exhausted, even your stubborn anger at him couldn’t stop you from accepting the offer. You slumped on the plush stool, folding your arms on the counter and resting your chin on them.

“How do you like your eggs?” Rafe asked.

“Is that a pick-up line?”

“Nope, just a question,” he said as he opened the high cupboard and pulled out a frying pan.

You tried to remind yourself you should reject his offer to feed you, you should storm out, you should tell him where he can put his frying pan…but you were hungry. And so tired.

“Sunny side up,” you answered.

He nodded and got to work cooking you breakfast, eggs and bacon sizzling on the stove, Rafe close by with a spatula in hand, silent as he stirred and flipped. You rested your head on your folded arms, eyes half-closed and brain sleepy, watching him.

If you blocked out the last twenty minutes, you could pretend this morning was your real life, could let yourself imagine it really was all this simple and pleasant and sweet; he’d cook you breakfast, you’d make him coffee, and you’d kiss until the sun rose.

At the top of the stairs, Kelce stood and started descending, before Carter reached up and grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing?” She whispered.

“I’m hungry!” He whined.

“You can’t go down there,” Maddie scolded him, “give them some space.”

“Are we just gonna stay up here all day?” Tom complained as he and Jack stood to join Kelce’s crusade into the kitchen.

“Everybody sit down!” Topper whisper-yelled. “Give them five fucking minutes, you’ll all survive. You can fuck off back to your rooms if you want but no one’s going down there.”

Carter couldn’t help the heart eyes she made at him, surprised and delighted by his show of aggression in your defense.

Kelce groaned as he backed back down, Tom rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up as he trudged down the hall back to his room, Jack following with a huff.

“Kelce, I have a granola bar in my purse, c’mon,” Maddie offered, leading him towards her own door.

Alone again, Topper and Carter looked at each other for a long, quiet moment.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

“I know,” he mouthed back.

She scooted towards him, nuzzling into his side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple.

Downstairs, Rafe was done with your meal, scooping it onto a plate and sliding it to you across the counter.

“Thank you,” you sat up and began nibbling at a slice of bacon.

Rafe took the stool next to you with his own plate of food. You sat in silence for a while, only the sound of forks scraping against porcelain and the occasional “can you pass the salt?” between you.

Between bites, you rested your head on your arm again, nearly falling asleep.

“I’m so tired,” you mumbled sleepily.

“It’s been a long twenty-four hours,” Rafe agreed, taking a sip of his coffee.

“That’s an understatement,” you snorted, sitting up again and finishing the last bite of your eggs.

“What about…the next twenty-four hours?” He asked quietly.

You took a deep breath, the smile falling from your face as you considered the question underneath his question. You didn’t answer him right away, hopping down from the stool and collecting your plate and his, carrying them to the sink. Rafe was quick behind you, arm reaching around and pulling the dishes from your hands to lay them in the sink. His hand rested on your waist, turning you to face him, pulling you in. Reluctantly, and without returned tenderness, you let him.

“Rafe, I can’t…” you said sadly.

“Please just talk to me,” he pleaded, hands running up your arms and resting on your shoulders. You shook your head, blinking away fresh tears as you pulled away from him.

“It hurts too much, Rafe,” your voice cracked. “As great as the last few days have been, you can’t see that being close to you hurts me. I worked so hard to get over you. So this isn’t me throwing it all away, this is me protecting myself. Protecting what I’ve spent years rebuilding.”

“So what, that's it then? You’re just gonna go back to school and pretend this never happened?” The pain in his voice was palpable, and you cursed the part of you that wanted to reach out and make him feel better.

“I don’t know, Rafe,” a small tear slipped through, gliding slowly down your cheek.

“You’re just gonna stop talking to me, stop thinking about me?” He continued desperately.

You looked up at him finally, searching his face, nodding sadly.

“I’ve done it before.”

Hurt flashed in his crystal blue eyes, flinching like your words had burned him. “You didn’t…you don’t…think about me?”

“No,” you told him honestly, another tear joining the one before it. “Never. Because if I let myself think about you, I would’ve fallen apart. I’m not strong enough, I would’ve run to you, and every time I did that before, you’d let me down.”

“What about yesterday? What about this morning? Just think about the beach, everything was so good, it can be that way now…”

He reached out and cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing over the tears as he pulled you in toward him, kissing you out of sheer desperation. Like maybe if you tasted his lips, it’d transport you both back in time, back to the beach, back when he’d done and said everything right.

You allowed him to take you there for just a second, before the incident on the front walk flashed in your mind again, the pain of rejection like a knife to your gut. You pulled away from him quickly, side stepping him and moving to the other side of the kitchen, creating as much distance between you as possible.

“No, no, you can’t just kiss me and act like what just happened with Cassie didn’t happen,” you shook your head rapidly, wiping your tear stained streaks with the backs of your hands. “I can’t do this right now, I need some time to think.”

It required fighting every impulse he had, but he didn’t push, didn’t close the space between you, didn’t try to regain the control he was so used to having. He just sighed deeply and nodded, eyes low.

“Okay, well let me know when you’re done…thinking.”

With one last longing look at you, he stepped away to the basement steps, stopping at the top and turning halfway toward you.

“Oh and that girl? The one who gave me her heart? For what it’s worth, I like her. Always have.”

With that, he was gone, the door clicking softly behind him.

Carter and Topper could hear you approach the bottom of the steps. Carter stood first, fully ready to greet you and grill you on everything that had happened since you last spoke. Topper could see all her questions and comments written on her face. He grabbed her hand and squeezed gently, stopping her before she marched down the stairs towards you. She looked at him in surprise but understood quickly as he gave her a slight shake of his head, whispering, “give her some space.”

Reluctantly, she nodded, allowing him to lead her quietly down the hall and into his room.

Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs, body aching. Your brain was so fried you couldn’t even pick one thing from the morning to focus on, like the part of your brain that processes events was temporarily out of order. So you stopped trying to think and just let your feet carry you to your bed, crawling under the covers in your clothes, falling quickly into a restless slumber.

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In your dreams, you were back in the kitchen with him, shoulder to shoulder in comfortable silence as you did the dishes together. Rafe washed and you dried.

Only, it wasn’t the beach house kitchen, it was one you’d never been in before. And in that dream-state way of knowing something you don’t actually know, you were sure it was a kitchen the two of you shared, sometime in the distant, unwritten future.

(to be continued)

a/n: I'm so sorry, I had to do it.......also the prom thing may or may not be based on a true story and I may or may not have cried writing it....

also I’m sick and tired so I didn’t edit much sorry for typos!

please note: the taglist for this series is closed. For updates when I post, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs <3

friendly reminder that writers live off of reblogs, don’t forget to feed your faves! 💘

879 notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 11 hours ago

Text

Omegas are the best for the military. Everyone knows that, it’s just common sense.

Omegas are notoriously level-headed and calm, protective without the tendency towards aggression and territorial possessiveness that characterizes their Alpha counterparts. They’re cooperative and adaptable, with heightened senses that at one evolutionary time kept them safe from rabid Alphas.

Now, it’s best suited to sniffing out potential threats, communicating sub-vocally, and noticing the smallest changes in their environment. The military finds them much more economical for combat, special ops, and even espionage compared to Alphas, who are pheromone sensitive, hard-headed, and generally indelicate.

That said, they’re not without their uses. Alphas tend to be lean, fast, and vicious. That aggression makes them both sword and shield in a fight, filing their sense of pain and fatigue down to almost nothing until the threat is neutralized.

Still, having a full-time Alpha in a squad isn’t a necessity except in special circumstances.

Per usual, Task Force 141 is special circumstances.

Four specialist Omegas with a metric ton of trauma per team member has the unfortunate consequence of hormonal imbalance. One thing feeds into another, a heat is put on hold for a mission because they can’t spare the manpower - it stacks and stacks and stacks until sleep is scarce and their usually well-maintained instincts are bursting at the seams. Compound that with the near loss of one of their team members…

The new Alpha is already there when the team returns from their latest assignment.

Laswell is waiting on the tarmac and an operative in black gear is standing a polite distance (plus one step more) from her elbow. Well within peripheral, but deferent. Their hands are clasped behind their back, shoulders straight but loose.

As TF141 approaches, Price expects the Alpha pheromones to waft his way any moment. It’s normal, expected even. A new environment, meeting strange Omegas, Alphas usually burn through their neutralizers quickly. Perhaps a vestigial instinct to carve a space for themselves in the world. Not necessarily their fault, but it happens.

Price is surprised that he smells nothing from the Alpha at all. Just the scents of detergent and soap, clean and standard. A quick glance at Simon confirms their most-sensitive nose doesn’t detect anything either.

Laswell introduces them, an Alpha that she’s personally worked with before and can verify is solid both on and off the field.

The Alpha’s muzzle is heavy duty but long-wear design. Hard-case and rigid instead of the more popular soft and flexible ones. Cushioned but firm at the bridge of the nose, chin, and corners of the jaw. Buckled tight at the back of the head, steel grid pattern across the front.

Price doesn’t arch his eyebrows at it but it’s a near thing.

They duck their head in greeting when Laswell introduces them as Saint, eyes flicking up briefly to each team member, eye-shine reflecting green in the bright runway lights.

Soap whistles, impressed.

“Yer a big ‘un, tha’s fer damn sure. Didnae ken they make ‘em like ye,” he drawls. Ghost cuffs him upside the head, reminding him to behave.

Saint blinks and doesn’t say anything. Curious.

“Let’s do proper introductions inside,” Price decides.

It goes much the same way in the 141’s den as it did out on the tarmac. Saint stands quiet and still while the Omegas take their turns.

There’s no scent to familiarize themselves with, so it’s mostly offering theirs to the Alpha. Except Saint doesn’t duck down to the neck Gaz offers. Instead, they pluck up his hand and bring his wrist to their muzzle. Inhale so quietly that only the swell of their chest indicates that they’re breathing him in.

They chuff softly, hold so loose that Gaz’s hand nearly drops from theirs. It’s approval, it can’t be anything else, but it sounds so… detached.

Still, Gaz chuffs in return, and makes way for the others. Saint does the same to Soap and by the time Simon steps up, he’s already tugging his sleeve up and his glove down.

Simon, to his own surprise, receives the same polite huff as the two sergeants. Most Alphas have found his direct scent to be unpleasant - too sharp and savory, bordering on Alpha. But Saint doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

When it’s finally Price’s turn, the only difference is that Saint swipes their own wrist along his. Scent claim. Not marking the 141 as theirs, but rather Saint as belonging with them.

Laswell, suspiciously amused, takes her leave soon after.

The 141 has an Alpha. A permanent one.

Living with an Alpha would have been a learning curve on its own. Living with SAINT is something else entirely.

For one, they apply clinical-strength neutralizer religiously. They have spares stashed everywhere. In their go-bag, their combat gear, the den, the lockers - even one in Price’s office. It’s better than the ones with fragrance, but if not for their ever-present muzzle, no one would be able to tell that they’re an Alpha.

And speaking of the muzzle.

It goes beyond common courtesy and public conduct. Even in the den, they keep the thing tightly pressed to their face, and don’t remove it for anything. They eat in their room and drink through straws when necessary.

When Price tells them that the team wouldn’t mind if they used a bite guard in the den, they just chuff softly and brush a hand along his shoulder. The muzzle stayed.

It’s not to say they don’t seem comfortable. Day by day, little signs of trust and ease seep into their Alpha’s mannerisms if they know where to look for it. A brush of skin here, a sub-vocal purr there. Spending hours upon hours in the den, available for any of the Omegas to sit with or cuddle or chat to. As much as teammate as an Alpha in the traditional sense.

It doesn’t take Soap and Gaz long at all to start hanging all over them, but Saint takes it with all the patience of their namesake. Price finds Soap lounging in their lap most times that they’re sitting, or leaning hard into their side while they watch recruits.

The muzzle is a no-touch zone, but they don’t get even growl the first time Soap discovers that. They just redirect him with a quiet click of their tongue, and let him nuzzle in when he apologizes.

Gaz is hardly any better, scent marking Saint like some bad Alpha stereotype. Poor thing goes around smelling overwhelmingly of bergamot and honey sometimes, but they never mind, never stop him from pressing his face to their chest or their back or even into their hands. Rubbing his face over any bit of skin or fabric available, even their jugular, despite the vulnerability of such a spot.

Still, Saint is aloof.

They’re perfectly responsive to their Omegas, head tilting at the slightest vocalization, quick to offer physical comfort when asked. They hardly ever seek it out for themself though, and show none of the near-obsessive behaviors associated with even the most mild of Alphas on the spectrum.

“I dinnae think Alpha likes us,” Soap whines one evening.

Saint is eating in their room, leaving the Omegas to a cuddle pile while they wait for their return.

He’s been lamenting it for a while now, repressing the rejected pang in his gut any time Saint doesn’t vocalize back, or reach for them first.

They work out in the Alpha-Only gym on base and do their laundry in the designated Alpha wash. Neither of those are regulations, it’s a choice they make. And it hurts a bit.

Saint is sweet, but their politeness goes past the point of old-fashioned.

“Course they do,” Simon grunts, dismissive. “They probably like us too much.”

“How do you reckon?” Gaz asks.

“Alpha didn’ go t’ eat ‘til we were all fed,” he replies, shrugging.

And it’s true. Saint doesn’t collect a scrap of nutrition until every one of their Omegas has had something to eat. Even Price, stubborn and work-focused as he can be, is gently urged to eat before Saint fills their own belly.

It doesn’t stop there.

Saint is always the last one on or off a transport, and quick to notice if any of them are injured. They’re always present around large groups of other Alphas, especially recruits.

The sheer amount of time they spend available is unusual, preferring the den to rest in their off hours - even sleeping there on occasion.

Then Gaz’s heat is due. A week out and he’s already feeling it descending - it’s been well over six months since his last one. His skin feels itchy, his senses on overdrive. Thirsty and hungry and generally feeling restless beneath the skin.

“Alpha,” he calls.

Saint’s eyes are on him instantly, one-sided conversation with some other, non-Pack Omega forgotten. Gaz purrs, pleased.

“I want something of yours.”

They tilt their head, a silent question.

“A shirt or something,” he specifies.

And something in their gaze flickers. Gaz isn’t sure what it means, but it definitely looks positive.

Saint brings him something better - a blanket. It’s intimate; it’s perfect. It smells incredible, if… oddly faded. From his most reserved Pack member, it means the world.

Gaz balls himself up with it in the nest he assembles over the next day and a half, until he wakes up one morning with the knowledge that his heat will l well and truly have taken hold before midday.

He puts in his notice and calls his Pack.

Saint is the last to enter his barrack, a huge bag of supplies in their arms. Not just for Gaz, but for the rest of them. No one will be leaving unless duty calls.

And it’s perfect. The best heat Gaz has ever had. Surrounded by Pack and protected by his Alpha, who stays on watch while Price and Ghost and Soap fuck him through the dregs of preheat and well into Heat proper.

Half of him purrs at his Alpha’s dedication to protecting them, to providing for them. The other half protests the Alpha’s attention being anywhere but on him.

“Alpha,” he calls. And when that only earns him Saint’s eyes and not his affection, he barks, sharper, “Alpha.”

They come to him instantly, settled in between his legs, smooth their thumbs along the glands at the base of his neck. He curls into them trilling and chirping and needing more than just social acceptability right now.

And finally, finally, a low rumble sounds through his Alpha’s chest. It’s deep and rich, hits the subharmonics in a way that has all the Omegas going still and quiet. Their voice purrs out a moment later, practically vibrating their skulls.

“Easy, Omega.”

Gaz bares his neck, whispering, “Saint.”

They lean in, breathing loud and deep, warm hands soothing an ache in his lower back. “I’m here, Kyle.”

They fuck well into sundown, Kyle so wound up that he can’t bear to be parted from Saint to even let them breathe. Any space between them is whined or growled or bitten out of existence, the ever-indulgent Alpha soothing their Omega with their body, with the newly discovered vocalizations that he just can’t get enough of.

Ghost and Price have to feed and hydrate him between rounds, working together to manage his clingy limbs and careless (but sharp) teeth. In the meantime, Soap helps to do the same for Saint, who is far more cooperative.

“How’re you still goin’?” Soap wonders, amazed, slipping bites of granola between the bars of their muzzle. Saint is sitting upright with Gaz collected against their chest, sweaty but already breathing evenly again.

Saint licks a bit of chocolate off their lip and meets his eyes easy as anything, serene for how blown out their pupils are.

“I’m your Alpha. I go until you need me to stop.”

Which just sets them all off, each taking (needing) a turn with their Alpha.

By then, their neutralizer has begun to wear off, friction and sweat and fabric thinning the chemical deodorant to nothing. The scent is intoxicating, unlike anything any of them have ever smelled before. It’s overwhelmingly Alpha, overwhelmingly good. Even Ghost and Price, rare to bend the knee to anyone, find themselves weak for that scent.

No wonder Saint keeps it on lock, it’s practically a weapon in itself, not demanding submission but expecting it. A foregone conclusion. In a social setting it would be a brutal domination, rude wouldn’t even be the right word for it.

Saint isn’t just an Alpha, they’re on the extreme end of the spectrum.

The kind that comes with counseling and desensitizing therapies. Etiquette schools and specialized doctors.

The kind of Alpha that can not only manage four chaotic Omegas, but give them what they need.

With types like Saint, Alpha isn’t just a designation, it’s a title. And the 141 is proud that it’s theirs.

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #simon riley #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #non traditional omegaverse

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creamflix · 2 days ago

Text

the first time sukuna fell in love, he was but a boy of ten.

he’d been running barefoot by the riverside, clutching a half-eaten apple he’d swiped from a vendor’s stall.

there, among the reeds, he saw you.

a girl not much older than him, giggling as you played with a pair of bunnies. you smiled as one hopped into your lap, the sunlight catching in your hair like strands of spun gold.

for the first time, he felt a pang in his chest — an ache so foreign it startled him. he wanted to walk closer, to hear your laughter up close, but the distant shouts of palace guards reminded him of his plight.

with a scowl and a heavy heart, he turned and disappeared into the forest.

the second time sukuna fell in love, he was twenty-nine.

a hardened king by then, his hands stained with the blood of countless battles. he was unstoppable, a force of nature, until he met you on the battlefield.

you were the opposing leader, a woman who commanded armies with fire in her veins. your sword clashed against his with unyielding strength, your eyes defiant even as the tides of war turned against you. he admired the way you held your head high, even in defeat.

when his blade finally struck true, he found no triumph in his victory — only the hollow echo of your last breath and the unshakable image of your bravery.

the third time sukuna fell in love, he was sixty.

his body had grown stronger, his face lined with the scars of battles and time, yet untouched by age. at a temple celebrating his birthday — his subjects oblivious to his immortality — he spotted you again.

you knelt at the altar, your hands clasped in prayer, tears streaming down your face. your whispered words were for the departed, a plea for their peace, not for yourself. your unselfishness struck him like lightning. he lingered in the shadows, unable to tear his eyes away.

but once again, he left without speaking.

decades blurred into centuries, and sukuna continued to see you — again and again.

once, you were a nurse during a plague, tirelessly tending to the sick, your hands blistered but your resolve unwavering.

another time, you were a dancer, spinning under the moonlight with a joy so infectious that even his dark soul felt lighter.

then, you were a bandit, reckless and daring, stealing from the rich to feed the poor, your grin daring the world to challenge you.

each time, he loved you more fiercely, each time more convinced that you were the universe’s cruel joke on him — a fleeting glimpse of something he could never hold.

until today.

he hadn’t expected anything remarkable when he walked into the café, drawn by the rich aroma of coffee and the warmth of the afternoon sun. his mind was wandering, memories of his past lives and past loves swirling like a storm, when your voice shattered his reverie.

“welcome in! what can i get for you?”

his heart stopped.

it was you.

this time, there was no battlefield, no temple, no grand act of heroism. you stood behind the counter in a simple apron, your hair tied back, a pen tucked behind your ear.

yet you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“uh, sir?” you tilted your head, offering a polite smile when he didn’t respond right away.

“coffee,” he managed, his voice rough. “black.”

you nodded, punching it into the register. “sure thing. anything else?”

“your name,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

your eyebrows lifted in surprise, but you laughed softly. “it’s y/n. do you need that on the cup?”

he stared at you, stunned by how casual you were, how close he was to everything he’d yearned for across lifetimes.

“no,” he said, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “i just wanted to know.”

you laughed again, handing him his coffee once it was ready. “well, enjoy, mystery man.”

he lingered by the counter, holding the cup like it was an anchor to this moment. he didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to miss the chance he’d always let slip through his fingers.

this time, he swore, he wouldn’t run away.

“how long have you worked here?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

“a few months. why, thinking of applying?” you teased, wiping down the counter.

“no,” he said, his voice softer now. “just wondering how long it took for the universe to bring me here.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the weight of his words. but before you could reply, the door jingled as another customer entered, pulling your attention away.

sukuna stepped back, letting you go about your work. for now.

he’d waited centuries to speak to you, to know you. he could wait a little longer. but this time, he wouldn’t let you slip away.

not again.

the concept of the cafe was inspired by my pookie @curtins's recent post on jjk men in cafes, go show her some looveee <3 produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡

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yellowbrokenblue · 2 days ago

Text

Harry joins you in the hot tub…

Your brother brought his best friend on vacation, and you find yourselves stuck in a rather steamy situation.

cw: smut, cheating, degradation, semi public sex, harry and reader being a horny mess

kofi

You had no idea how your brother had managed to coax your parents into paying for his best friend, Harry, to come on vacation with your family, but somehow it had happened.

And it was killing you.

Harry was the sort of guy you only saw in movies. A perfectly chiseled jawline, brown locks you wanted to tangle your fingers in, and pink lips with a permanent smirk on them.

And what was even worse was that you were kept up at night with thought of him with your own fingers in your pussy.

It almost made you forget about your boyfriend, Brandon, who had conveniently had to attend a friends birthday party instead of his own girlfriend’s family vacation.

Everyone had been asleep for hours, but you had no chance of sleeping while dirty thoughts of Niall’s best friend kept circulating your thoughts- so you quickly changed into your bikini and made your way to the hot tub for a late night dip.

The water wasn’t as soothing as you’d hoped it to be, and instead the heat of the water had made you even more horny. Resisting the urge to dip your fingers below your bikini bottoms was killing you right now.

“Seems I wasn’t only one who wanted a dip in the hot tub tonight.”

Your head snapped upwards. Everyone was supposed to be asleep, you weren’t supposed to be hearing any voices at this time of night.

Especially not his voice.

“Harry.” You breathed.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked.

He was wearing only his swimming trunks, leaving his beautiful, tattooed chest on full display.

You caught yourself staring at him, and snapped your eyes away.

You don’t remember the last time you took a breath. You’d been holding it in as he stepped into the hot tub and settled himself directly opposite you, not breaking eye contact the whole time he got in.

“Why’s Brandon not here, then?”

You looked at him, confusion on your features as you listened to Harry spit out Brandon’s name with distaste.

“He couldn’t make it.”

Harry shook his head, frowning, “He’s a fucking prick, Y/N.”

You shrug.

“Oh well. I’m glad he’s not here. It’s kinda nice it just being me and you.” Harry said again.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t you think?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You said quietly, “It is nice.”

You squeeze your thighs together. The effect Harry had on you right now simply by sitting opposite you without a shirt on was crazy.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Harry asked.

You bite your lip, unsure of what to say, and nod.

“I say we play a little game, hm? You seem tense, let’s lighten the mood.”

“Uhm, alright. What’s the game?”

Harry shrugged, “I get to answer any question, and you have to answer. Then you ask me a question, and I have to answer… And so on.”

You frown, “And what if I don’t want to answer?”

A smirk spread over his features.

“Then you gotta take an item of clothing off.”

A lump forms in your throat.

“We’re wearing swimsuits, Harry.” You said.

“I don’t have a problem as long as you don’t have a problem.” He said, “Do you? Do you have a problem?”

You shook your head.

“No problem.”

Harry grinned, “Good.” He said, “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

You nod.

God, he was so hot. Sitting there, staring at you with those eyes. You felt like you were going to sink to the bottom of the hot tub and never come back out.

“What’s your body count?” Harry asked.

You swallowed. You had expected the questions to make a sexual turn eventually, but not straight out on the first one.

“Three.” You said, not elaborating anymore.

“Now you ask me one.”

You thought for a second. If Harry wanted the questions to be about sex, you’d make them about sex.

“Where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”

You noticed Harry smirk, and he wasted no time answering the question.

“A girl sucked me off in a movie theatre one time, but the weirdest place I’ve fucked someone? I dunno, like, janitors closet in high school?”

“Movie theatre? Like during the movie, or in the bathroom?”

“During the movie. There wasn’t many people watching the film to be fair, but the movie was on.”

“You’re insane.”

“I know.”

How you fucking wished it had been you sucking Harry’s dick in a movie theatre.

“Okay. My turn.” Harry said, “Why are you happy that Brandon didn’t come on vacation?”

“What?” You asked, “Of course I’m not happy. I’m upset about it!”

You frown at Harry.

“Either you tell the truth, Y/N, or you take an item off. Your choice, sweetheart.”

You think for a moment. Neither options are particularly good ones.

“Okay. Fine. I’m happy he’s not here. I just like… Needed a break from his constant complaining and constant need to create an argument.”

“That’s everything?”

You nod.

“My turn.” You said.

You pause.

Nothing comes to mind at all.

“I can’t think of one.” You say.

“Do you want me to just go again?”

It’s almost as if your heart had stopped beating- you were barely able to process the words that Harry was saying.

“Was it you that I heard touching yourself in your bedroom last night?”

Your cheeks go pink. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

You swallow again, your heart racing.

“No answer?”

Harry smirks, sliding over to the other side of the hot tub, stopping in front of you.

“Sweetheart, you know the rules. If you don’t answer, that skimpy little bikini of yours has to come off.”

“I-”

You physically couldn’t get any words out of your mouth. Your thighs were pressed together as Harry stared hungrily at you.

He moved his hand closer and closer to the back of your neck where your bikini was tied, and in one swift movement, pulled the string of it, causing it to fall into the pool.

His eyes didn’t leave your breasts for what felt like forever. They were locked on your body, his eyes taking everything in.

“One point to me.” He said, “And I’m changing the fuckin’ rules. Only I get to ask questions now.”

You nod.

“Tell me who you were thinking of when you had your fingers in your own cunt last night, Y/N.” He said, his hands that had been placed on your hips moving closer to your panties, his fingers eventually dipping under the waistband, “Cause I sure as hell know it wasn’t Brandon.”

He spat out your boyfriend’s name like dirt on his shoe.

“Does he make you cum, Y/N? Does he make you cum with his tiny dick in your pussy? Does the make you feel good the way you know that I would make you feel good?”

Harry didn’t even wait for you to answer any of his questions. He ripped your panties down your legs, leaving you stark naked in the pool.

“Harry.” You say.

The pain between your legs was unmeasurable. You needed him so badly rignt now that it hurt.

“Tell me you want me, baby, and I’ll give you anything.”

“I want you, Harry.” You say.

“You can have me, babygirl. But first I want to see you touch yourself. Touch yourself the way I heard you last night.”

You wasted no time doing what he asked. The need to release the tension between your legs was so bad right now you’d do anything.

Your hand slipped between your legs and found your clit, rubbing fast circles, moaning out in pleasure.

“Dirty, dirty girl.” He said, “All this because you are so desperate to fuck me.”

“Please Harry. Please I need you.”

“That’s it, baby girl.” Harry said, palming his dick through his pants, “Beg for it. Beg for my cock, Y/N.”

You moan, your fingers still playing with your clit.

“Please Harry. Please give me your cock. I’m so desperate.”

He quickly changed the positions in you both were in, and had his shorts off his body and dangling over the edge of the tub in no time.

“That’s it.” He said, helping you straddle his lap, “You’re gonna take daddy’s cock like the pretty little whore you are.”

Daddy. You moan at his words.

He had hold of your hips, and you moaned as he pushed you onto his cock. Pushing his hips up so you took the whole length all at once.

“Such a tight cunt.” Harry groaned as his cock was pushed right inside of you.

You tried to grind against him, but he had hold of your hips so you couldn’t move.

“Stay still.” He instructed, “Play with those pretty tits and then I’ll let you move.”

You brought your hands to your breasts. You’d do anything for this man right now.

Harry moaned as he watched you push your tits together.

“Oh.” He moaned, “I’m gonna fuck those tits after this. Cum all over them.”

The feeling of his cock inside of you was already making you feral, but this was on another level.

“Please!” You say.

Harry seems to snap, and out of nowhere starts to move your hips, rocking you against him.

“Bounce for me.” He said. “Bounce on daddy’s cock.”

You moved your hips faster than you ever had before, moaning with each time you pushed your hips towards him, his cock filling you up more and more each time.

“Oh, Harry.”

Harry helps you moved faster and faster until you’re physically crying with how close you are to an orgasm.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” You cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a fucking tidal wave.

Your legs were trembling as Harry groaned, indicating he’d reached his own high, your body falling limp, resting against him.

“You’re never gonna fuck that Brandon loser again. You understand?” Harry said, through his own orgasm, “It’s my cock only from now on.”

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #fanfic #harry styles fanfic #one direction #smut #hot tub

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misswynters · 2 days ago

Text

getting into an slight argument with ekko while heavily pregnant

featuring. ekko x pregnant! reader

use of she/her

a/n. you cannot tell me that ekko wouldn’t be the most protective person in the world for you if you were expecting

Warm lamplight filled the room as you settled into a worn armchair in Ekko’s little hideout in the Undercity. You absentmindedly rested a hand on your swollen belly, your fingers tracing small circles over the fabric of your tunic.

Ekko paced in front of you, his bat slung over his shoulder, his brow furrowed with frustration. “You should’ve waited for me,” he muttered, glancing back at you.

“I just went to get some fresh air,” you replied gently, trying to keep the calm in your tone. “It’s not like I went running through Zaun or something.”

He stopped pacing, turning to face you fully. His eyes softened for a moment before worry took over again. “You’re almost due, Firefly.”

“You worry too much,” you cut him off with a small smile, though your own patience was wearing thin. “I am perfectly fine by myself, Ekko. You know that.”

“I know,” he said quickly, running a hand over his hair. “I know you’re strong and could perfectly handle anything. But—”

“But what?” you asked, your voice sharpening just a little. The tension of carrying a whole human being inside you, and the constant fussing that came with it, was starting to run your patience thin. “You’re treating me like I’m fragile glass, plus the baby’s fine.”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging as he dropped his bat to the ground. “I’m just worry, okay?” His voice was quieter now, almost vulnerable. “I can’t help it.”

Your heart softened at his words, the frustration melting away. But before you could say anything, he stepped closer, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his hands reaching for yours. “I didn’t mean to come off like that. I just…” His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, his head hanging for a moment. “I love you so much, and i’m really terrified of losing you both.”

“Ekko…” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

He looked up at you then, his wide brown eyes filled with guilt and love all at once. “I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have gotten worked up. You know what you’re doing, Firefly. I know that.”

Without waiting for a response, he leaned forward and started pressing soft kisses to your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured between pecks, each kiss trailing higher up your arm. “Sorry for being overbearing. Sorry for stressing you out.” His lips moved to your shoulder, then your cheek. “Sorry for being a total fool.”

A small laugh escaped you, despite yourself. “Ok y’know—”

But he wasn’t done. His hands cradled your face as he peppered kisses across your forehead, your temples, your nose. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he whispered with every press of his lips, his smile growing as your laughter did.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” you giggled, swatting at him playfully.

He grinned, his eyes finally lighting up again as he rested his forehead against yours. “You forgive me?”

“Of course i do,” you said softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek.

His hand dropped to your belly, his touch gentle as his fingers splayed across the curve. “And you,” he said, directing his voice toward your stomach, “you’ve got the coolest mom in the entire world. But don’t pick up her stubbornness, okay?”

You gasped in mock offense, swatting him again. “Hey!”

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you, properly this time. It was soft and sweet, lingering just long enough to remind you of all the love he carried for you. When he pulled back, his face was glowing with affection.

“I’ll do better,” he promised, his voice firm. “No more hovering. Well… maybe a little hovering. But I’ll chill out. For you.”

You smiled, cupping his cheek. “You don’t have to change. I love you just the way you are—even when you’re being overprotective.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment before peeking back at you. “I love you more than anything else. Both of you.”

As he moved to kiss your belly, your baby gave a small kick against his palm. His face lit up, and he looked up at you with wide eyes. “Did you feel that?”

You nodded, laughing. “They’re saying hi to you.”

Ekko beamed, pressing another kiss to your belly. “Hey, little one. I can’t wait to meet you. But try not to stress your mom out too much before then, okay?”

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through your chest. As Ekko leaned back into you, resting his head on your lap, you combed your fingers through his hair, both of you settling into the quiet comfort of the moment.

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights

banner @anitalenia

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gtgbabie0 · 2 days ago

Text

-Sevika x Reader

Synopsis: {Sevika has some trouble with her mechanical arm, you offer her help}

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

softSevika,softSevika,softSevika! Enjoy my lovelies <3 💕

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The pale light of the moon was drowned out by the neon signs that flicker soft colours of pink and blue which bleed through your small apartment, it was the only source of light guiding Sevika through the room before she finds the light switch, clumsily flicking it on.

It had all gone so horribly wrong so quickly, what was meant to be a simple drop off and pick up turned into a violent mess— fucking useless, she thought bitterly. It’d be the last time she would work with some newbies who couldn’t tell their left from their right.

Her frustrations were bubbling over, that much was clear when she slams the front door shut, immediately wincing at the loud noise and once again she silently curses, this time at herself.

It was well past midnight and you were definitely knocked out like a light, it was endearing how quickly you fell asleep, one moment the pair of you would be talking then the very next you were snoring your head off. The thought of you curled up in your shared bed with your face smushed against the soft pillows makes her smile— the type that softens her hardened features.

It almost made her forget about the dull ache that seized her muscles, almost. She needed a drink.

So with a bottle of whiskey and her toolbox, you had so kindly brought for her spread out on the coffee table she sat down on the couch trying to fix the mess that had become of her mechanical arm— which was so much more harder to do by herself, without you there to unscrew the screws she couldn’t reach or to hand her the right tools… or to caress her cheek with those soft hands of yours, fuck, she had missed you more then she’d like to admit.

Sevika had been at it for hours, fumbling with one stubborn screw that had been lodged stuck. It refused to come loose for love nor money and it was driving her up the damn wall that she throws the stupid screwdriver across the room, watching it bounce across the wooden floorboards with a loud clang and a thud.

She stares down at it with a small scowl, scoffing before reaching for the bottle of whiskey.

“Sev?— what’re you doing?” Your soft voice, heavy with sleep ripples through the silence, breaking down the spell of anger that seemed ever present.

“Nothing, go back to bed, I’ll be there in a minute.” She mumbles the reply, ducking her head down to look at the floor beneath her, it was almost ridiculous how fast the guilt hit her. She’d woken you up at god knows what time with her banging around.

You shake your head at her dismissal, padding your way over to her with a small frown— your hands tightening the silk robe you had wrapped around your body. Without a word she moves her legs so you can perch yourself on the edge of the coffee table, sitting in front of her.

“You won’t be able to fix it if you’re drunk.” You tell her, a small smirk ghosting over your lips as you watch her put the bottle of whiskey down on the table with a small huff.

“It’s not the alcohol—” Sevika replies gruffly, her heart skipping a few beats at the feeling of your hand against her knee as you rummage through her toolbox. “It needs a specific part.” Gods, you made her feel like a lovesick fool sometimes but damn if she didn’t absolutely adore the feeling.

With a soft hum, you let your fingertips graze along the metal fixings of her prosthetic arm, the joints were all broken and a couple of cogs were missing— it’d be easier to fix if it was detached and by the look on Sevika’s face she knew this… but it was a pain to do.

“I could-” you go to offer her an alternative, eyes skimming across the mechanical arm as your tired mind runs a mile a minute.

“Just help me take it off,” She concedes with a weary sigh, nodding over to the screwdriver which you’re quick to pick up.

She didn’t like having it off, to feel so vulnerable and defenceless. In a strange way, it scared her. Sure she could probably knock a guy or two out with one hand but it was still daunting to feel so stripped in such a way.

You stand up from the coffee table, situating yourself in between her legs as you begin to gently unscrew the bolts, handing them over to her one after another as she puts them safely into a bag. Then with a soft hiss of air, the arm comes loose, the weight falling from Sevika’s shoulder and down on the sofa beside her.

“We’ll fix it tomorrow… get that specific piece.” You promise her with a tender smile, looking down at her from where you stand with her rough hand resting over the curve of your hips from between the opening of your silken robe— caressing up to your waist slowly.

“Mmhm.” She hums in agreement, leaning forwards to bury her face into your soft tummy with a heavy sigh that borders on a groan as you skim your fingertips along her cheek and through her hair ever so slowly that it has her nuzzling into you like a damn cat.

Gods, you knew just how to dismantle her… you were a dangerous woman— her kryptonite.

“C’mere.” She mutters, pulling you down onto her lap without a single second thought. Her strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you against her as you melt into her body— her fingers brushing along your hip.

“Come to bed Sev— you look like you’re about to pass out.” You whisper, turning your head to get a good look at her with those soft eyes of yours… so tired and sweet.

“I will just let me hold you like this for a minute.” She replies back, bumping her forehead against your own— pressing a kiss to your cheek then burying her face into the crook of your shoulder, a muffled ‘I love you’ spoken into your skin.

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frownyalfred · 23 hours ago

Note

you know how people occasionally bat (ha!) around the idea that bruce has magic but should never ever use it because he will turn evil?

well that power has to go somewhere. Like his perfect hair

Bruce suppressing so much natural and ancestral magic in his bloodline that it just kicks back into his perfect hair and too-beautiful face and his ability to always time his flips perfectly, to know where to throw the next punch without looking, to sway in time with his city and move through Gotham like he’s known it for centuries…yeah. That’s a headcanon I can get behind for sure.

#asks #anon #bruce wayne #batman #dc #batfamily

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jasvtsc · 2 days ago

Text

daddy's home

at first glance, you were the epitome of innocence.

perfectly manicured nails. neatly styled hair, often with a pinky ribbon added to the mix. lips always shiny, your lipgloss being a necessity in your purse. knee-high stockings highlighting your smooth legs, paired together with some heels. and short dresses, barely hiding the soaking wet lace panties underneath.

yeah, you looked innocent.

but behind closed doors? you were a filthy needy little whore—just what ben liked to call you.

for such a small thing, your sex drive was actually insane, and it shocked him for the first time when you eagerly jumped up and down his softening dick. you were so cockdrunk he couldn’t help but find it adorable. you tried so hard to act like a perfect and innocent girl, but as soon as he was near you, you were a whiny mess, desperate to be filled.

you were like a bunny, always eager and energetic.

and honestly? he was living for it.

he could do whatever he wanted to you, and he just loved fucking you into oblivion, watching tears stream down your face as you turned into a blabbering mess.

hard day at work? he’d aggressively pound into your wet pussy, making you unable to walk for the next few days.

hughie annoyed the fuck out of him? he’d dug his fingers underneath your panties first thing after coming home, sighing in relief at the familiar feeling of your drenched walls sucking them in.

his favourite team lost the game? you were on the bed, down on your knees, ass up as he slapped it, leaving red marks from his calloused hand while fucking you.

lazy afternoon smoking some weed and simply unwinding? he’d have you cockwarming him, just sitting on his lap and looking all pretty with his fat cock buried deep inside your tight hole.

or when you simply wanted to pleasure him, getting down on your knees in front of him, his foot between your legs as you bop your head back and forth, your cheeks hollowing with every suck, his tip hitting the back of your throat as he sunk fully.

you were his drug that he couldn’t get enough. you were his perfect little girl.

and he hasn’t seen you in so long. too long.

butcher sent him on a mission on the other side of the country. he spent almost a week away from you, and even though you were religiously sending him photos he could get off to, nothing compared to the real thing of him nestled in your welcoming heat.

so as soon as he got home, he was met with your pouty lips and tears flooding your cheeks. you hugged him tightly, your arms barely able to wrap around his broad frame as you wanted to squeeze him tightly. he smirked and wrapped one hand firmly around your body, keeping you close and tight without much effort. the other hand moved to your hair, where he stroked the back of your head with his thumb, looking down at your pretty face covered in tears, pressed against his chest.

“well, well, well. look what we have here. missed me that much, hm? don’t worry, baby girl, daddy’s home,” he chuckled and patted your head.

then, he lifted you, the hand on your head now going under your dress. he rubbed your core with his fingers, feeling how wet you already were through your panties. he sighed in contentment, a cocky smirk on his face as he pressed his fingers, making the fabric stick between your folds.

“already so eager to see me. i think i should take care of ya, f’being such a good girl and missing daddy,” he hummed, carrying you to the bedroom.

not even five minutes later, you were already bent over on the bed, your panties stuffed in your mouth to muffle any sounds you’d make. he held your wrists in a firm grip on your back, so you were completely at his mercy as he was sliding in and out of you, your pussy squelching. you were breathing through your nose, whimpering against the fabric in your mouth as he kept your head pressed on the pillow.

“so fuckin’ tight, all f’me,” he growled, reaching his hand between your bodies and delivering a firm slap to your clit. “too tight, though. did your little pussy already forget what daddy feels like? we can’t have that. no fuckin’ way,” he panted, thrusting into you even harder, making you cry out as he pinched your swollen bud. “yeah, just like that. cry for daddy, you filthy whore.”

he flipped you on your back and sunk in your heat again, repeatedly hitting your cervix. with a grunt, he took the panties out of your mouth, instead replacing them with his fat fingers. you almost gagged as he shoved them in, pressing on your tongue, but quickly, you swirled your tongue around the rough digits, eagerly sucking on them.

“yhym. good girl. suck while daddy fucks you,” he growled, stroking your chin with his thumb as he started moving even more aggressively with a clear intention of filling you up with his cum.

when your walls began to clamp down on his cock, he pulled his fingers, now coated with your saliva and roughly grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks. you whimpered and opened your mouth, and that was exactly what he wanted. he smiled and then spat in your mouth, one look enough for you to know that he wanted you to swallow.

and that’s what you did, seconds later squirting on his thick length, making him tumble over the edge as well. with a loud groan, he stilled and pressed deeper inside you, shooting his load into your tight channel.

“fuck, that’s it. daddy’s home,” he chuckled lowly, pulling you closer and crashing his lips on yours in a hungry kiss.

oh, he missed you so fucking much.

#🫧 — kas writes #soldier boy #soldier boy one shot #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy drabble

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geemakesfanart · 4 hours ago

Text

“…oh! Well- I- no one’s ever asked me that…?” Lady Murder stammered. Suddenly flustered with the attention that she was receiving.

“Really!? But you make it look so easy, it’s amazing!” Magic Jane gasped, and Lady Murder was vividly reminded that the young hero had only been in the job for a couple of weeks. She looked really young actually. Like really, really young. How old was the Heroes Association entrance age, again?

“Thank you…?” Lady Murder, a veteran villain and almost 40 in a few months, was experiencing something new for the first time in years. But she knew how these heroes worked when they were on the back leg, they were tricky, and would to anything to “save the day”. Even flattering a small time evil-doer like her.

“I mean-!” The little hero started “it should have taken years to plan something this big!” “I mean not really?” “Not to mention that each of the platforms should consume huge amounts of energy!” “I mean not really..?” “But they are miraculously going at full power, even now! What battery do they even use!?” “Well, that’s kind of a secret…?” “Honestly, you must be some type of genius!!”

Lady Murder, no, Mya felt something in her worldview shift to the left.

She knew what she was: a dirty westerner who grew crooked and twisted. Like they all do in the end. Because otherwise they die off. Or well, at least they used to, things have been different lately.

And she’s glad! Really! Seeing westerners like her walking down the streets without being killed by some stupid easterners at the first sign of them using their powers. But…

She looks at the little hero before her and, “ do you want me to teach you?”

“-and then I used AI to recognize the mutated gene, yes! I know! Using AI is one of the worst crimes ever! But listen to me-!” and as Lady Murder Mya turned to her young companion she came to the realization.

Magic Jane hadn’t run off, or fought her, or took notes on how to destroy her machines (her babies, her creations).

No.

Instead she had shook off her bindings a long time ago, and decided to take a seat on one of the few chairs near Mya. This stupid child hadn’t even called for reinforcements (because they had been at it for hours now, they really should be here now). She felt herself tear up a little. This hero was clearly too trusting, the world would eat her up in a single bite.

“…what do really want from me?” Mya asked, fingers playing with the edges of the screws in front of her.

And the stupid child, with the same paper white skin that almost looked yellow as Mya (because you never really leave the west), looked at Mya straight into her eyes and said:

“…I want to change the world.��

“How could you?” “I can expla-“ “No, I don’t mean morally. Logistically how could you even pull something like this off?”

#writers #writers on tumblr #writing prompts

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keferon · 1 day ago

Note

So the Mech AU is something and it's captured me too.

Set sometime after Prowl discovers Jazz is a pilot but before they go to Earth

———————————————————————

"Do they all look the same?"

Sat in a makeshift chair made from a tarp thrown over a spare tire, Jazz was in the middle of refueling from a small plastic baggie when Prowl broadly gestured to the inanimate body of his mech.

"The mechs? Naw, at least not the ones that last. I've had mine long enough that it's gotten all sorts of unique design changes and upgrades. There's no other mech that looks or moves just like mine."

The reassurance that Jazz's mech form was an individual creation was pleasing for some reason. Perhaps Prowl didn't like the idea of a dozen identical blank visors, the body of his friend replicated and filled with someone else.

"There's like. three or four classes of mech I think?" Jazz continued unaware of Prowl's secret anxiety.

"There's Rescue Class, those are the smallest, and they actually aren't built for fighting but for digging through rubble and cleaning up chunks of alien. Plus, sometimes those tentacle freaks have parasites that drop off when they die so the R-class kill 'em before they can become an invasive species."

"I thought you said they weren't designed for combat?"

Jazz finishes their fuel and shrugs.

"Its a war. Nobody gets out of fighting completely. Before I left I heard they were sticking a medic into- into fuckin' Vortex."

There were, many questions Prowl had concerning that last sentence. How desperate were the humans to be making their caregivers into soldiers? Why was this Vortex so infamous?

Why did Jazz sound angry at first, but by the time he got to saying "Vortex" the name came out as a rush of breath rather than a proper word?

What stopped him from pressing further on the topic was how Jazz seemed to shrink. And sink.

And stare at nothing at all.

It was so nauseatingly not Jazz that Prowl nudged the tire a bit and guided the conversation back to familiar territory.

"So what class are you?" Prowl said, while crossing his arms on the table and resting his chin on them. It was, very off model posture for the Praxian, but without the ability to pick up EM fields, exaggerated body language seemed to be the best way to get through to his human.

On a hunch, Prowl lightly waved his door-wings as well. Jazz smiled at them, and at him and Prowl preened with a modest smile back.

"I happen, to-just-so-be-the-Top-of-my-class-a-thank-you-veeery-much!" Jazz said popping each syllable like a song, resting his chin on his knuckles to match Prowls gaze.

"In terms of mech?" He nodded in its direction.

"I'm Striker Class baby, we're the fastest, the most agile and in my personal opinion the the most effective fighters in the whole program."

"And you do not personally feel as though you are an outlier bringing up the average?"

Mouth agape in mock shock, Jazz placed a hand over his spark- Flesh? Flesh-spark? Prowl deleted the line of thought and focused on the performance.

“I assure you Prowler, there are plenty of other Striker class pilots out there that do good for our name. I mean, there’s Blur for one thing. The guys basically the poster child of the whole program. Ridiculously fast mech. There’s also Hot Rod. His mech had the funny little quirk of CONSTANTLY CATCHING ON FIRE, buuut he turned it from a bug into a feature and now that’s just his thing.”

“Just his thing?!”

“Yup.”

“Being on fire?”

Jazz sat up straighter and pointed a finger at Prowl, “Look. I don’t know the full story and I shouldn’t be the one to tell it either, but trust me when I tell you this guy earned it.”

Leaning back, Prowl processed the new layers of insanity humans would apparently subject themselves to before filing it under “Bizarre conversations with Jazz” in his processor and carrying on.

“So what’s your special quality?”

“Me? I’m freakishly good at syncing up with my mech. Like, Blur is faster, but I’m smoother. Like, like that really is me. It just, I dunno, feels right. Fits me.”

Jazz looked over to his mech for a long time. Frowning at the fuel packet in his hands and solemnly crushing it into a ball.

“In terms of mech?” Jazz looked looked over to Prowl, smile returning with ease.

“I think I might be the only one that’s built for the stars.”

Their conversation continued into the evening like a leisurely dance. Discussing Pool Time, the war, cultural differences , the quintessons, their homes, what remained of them, and all the people they know and once knew.

Prowl never brought up Vortex again, though perhaps he should have.

__________________________________________

"What," Prowl choked out, his voice more static than sound. "Is that?"

The sky was green. The quintessions were in chunks. A mech, matte black with a blank visor, caaaarved into the body of the last living invader. A blade that massive was too big to keep a clean cutting edge, so the mech made up for the lack of delicacy with brute force.

It. It wasn't killing the damn thing. It was vivisecting the aliens spinal column from its body, each rib snapping off with a supersonic POP that shook Ratchets hangar and barely carried over the fucking awful sound of the thing screaming in terror.

Prowl would have never thought a Quintession could be a Victim before that moment.

Spine and brain case finally extracted, the mech lifted its prize to its opening vi- mouth.

That is its mouth. It's head was the size of his entire chassis. Inside, a stranger. Over bright eyes, straining and shaking against restraints within to get a better look at what was being held up to him. The mech moved without any input, tilting its helm back and cracking the skull to fill its open maw with cerebral fluid.

A funnel cloud touched down in the distance.

"That.? Jazz said, leaning against Prowls good side. “Is Vortex.”

TH A T. IS VORTEX

Man……I think Cybertronians would consider themselves big and scary compared to primitive earth life. And then meet Vortex. And then see Vortex in their nightmares for the next five million business years

#this definitely needs trigger warnings ahahahaha #mm #tw gore #mecha pilot jazz au #tf mecha universe

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pedroscurls · 21 hours ago

Text

touch starved (one-shot)

summary: logan agreed to go out with wade, having been promised a low-key night, but he should've known than to trust wade for his word. he didn't agree to spend his night at a strip club and he's just about ready to leave until he sees you. pairing: worst!wolverine x fem!reader content warnings: explicit smut (18+, mdni), porn without plot, lap dance, grinding / humping, striptease, one night stand (you take logan back to your apartment), unprotected p in v (be safe folks!), cowgirl, reader takes charge (and logan's more than happy to let you take the lead), oral - m receiving, swallowing logan's release. basically this story is all about catering to logan and his needs 🙂‍↕️, reader description (only clothes and hair), no use of y/n. word count: 3k a/n: coming at ya with yet another one-shot of logan filth lol. my own headcanon is that logan / worst!wolverine is touch starved (just as much as he craves to be part of something bigger than himself). anyway, hope y'all enjoy - it's a spicy one 🤭 song: closer by nine inch nails

“You promised a quiet night out, Wade,” Logan snarls at the other man, hand gripping his glass of whiskey. It’s too loud in here, the music blaring from the speakers, the flashing dark red lights illuminating mainly the stage where women are performing. There are plenty of men surrounding the stage, alcohol in one hand and dollar bills in the other.

“I promised no such thing,” Wade grins. “I said let’s go out and you agreed.”

Logan’s jaw tightens and he looks at Wade with narrowed eyes. “You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Wade laughs. “Come on, peanut! Have some fun. Let loose. Just sit back and relax–”

“I’m leavin’,” Logan interrupts, downing his entire glass before slamming it on the table. He stands up and gets ready to turn on his heel when he catches a glimpse of you at the corner of his eye. He turns slightly and watches the way your smile meets your eyes. You don’t look like you belong in a place like this, the other women wearing too much make up and revealing so much that it leaves little to the imagination. But you… You look absolutely breathtaking and Logan feels like he can’t move, can’t tear his eyes away from you.

Your hair cascades past your shoulders, your make up remaining light and natural. You’re dressed in an all black sheer robe with a lace cuff and satin waist belt. The robe is loosely wrapped around your frame, giving Logan a glimpse of your sheer mesh bra, the top of your bra trimmed with lace and when you undo the belt of your robe to reveal your lower half, he feels his breath catch in his throat. Your panties – or rather, your thong – matches the same style of your bra.

It’s so innocent in comparison to the other women in the strip club, and yet, Logan can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. It’s only when he hears Wade’s voice that he finally looks away, even though he’s yearning to just look at you again.

“Oh, someone’s caught your eye,” Wade grins, swaying in his seat. “Want a private dance, Mr. Wolverine?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan says. “Like I said, I was leavin’–”

“So soon?” you interrupt and glance between both men. You flash a smile in Wade’s direction who looks like he’s about ready to combust with excitement. He’s sipping his drink with a straw, grinning in your direction. Then, you glance over at Logan whose eyes stare directly into your own.

“Actually,” Wade says. “How much for a private dance…” he trails, staring up at you as he waits for you to say your name.

“Kitty,” you finish for him. “You can call me Kitty.”

“Very fitting,” Wade winks. “Well, Kitty, it’s my friend’s first night out in a very long time and I figured I can treat him to a private dance.”

“That’s very nice of you,” you respond, but your eyes never leave Logan’s. You can see his eyes flit over your frame, lingering on your exposed skin.

“Listen, you ain’t have to and–”

“How about the first one’s on me?” you interject.

“Sweetheart,” Logan mumbles.

You bite your lower lip and gently reach up to rest a hand on his arm. You can feel the muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt, can feel him flex it underneath your fingertips. Logan inhales sharply as he looks down at your hand, clearing his throat at your soft touch.

“His name’s Logan, by the way,” Wade chimes in, cutting through the tension with a quiet giggle.

“But only if you want to, Logan,” you whisper, moving your hand down his arm and to his forearm. You bat your eyelashes up at him, trying to ignore the obvious attraction you feel towards him. Truthfully, you’d rather spend the rest of your night with him rather than give dances to other men in the club – men who didn’t look like Logan.

Logan feels his resolve diminishing, but when he hears his name leave your lips, he nods slowly. “Y– Yeah, sure.”

“Great, come with me.” You smile and gently take his hand in yours. He looks down at it, taking notice of the way his large hand encompasses yours and he allows you to lead him towards the back of the club and into a much more private room.

Once inside, Logan hears the door shut and he turns to face you, his eyes lingering on your frame. He watches you walk towards him, hips swaying to the muffled sound of the music until he feels your hands rest firmly on his chest.

“You’re a shy one,” you point out, tongue darting out to lick your lower lip.

“Not shy,” Logan mumbles. “Just bein’ respectful, sweetheart.”

“Sexy and a gentleman?” you smile. “Mind if I keep you for the rest of the night?” you tease.

Logan feels a blush rise in his cheeks and lets out a quiet grunt when he feels you push him back against the large sofa. He stares up at you, eyes obviously now trailing your frame. He keeps his hands on his lap, though he yearns to reach out to touch you.

“Logan,” you whisper, moving your hands to rest on the backs of the couch as you lean in until your lips are mere inches from one another. You’re slightly bent over to be at eye level with him and you smile, catching the way he clears his throat. “If you don’t want to do this, all you have to do is say so, okay?”

“Okay,” he responds quietly.

You smile and gently press a soft kiss on his cheek, slowly pulling away to see that his eyes had fallen shut. You turn on your heel and walk over to the speaker to put on a couple of songs that you normally play when you give a private dance. Pressing play on the first song, you then turn around to face him once more. He looks so large in this room – his legs spread open on the sofa, broad shoulders and chiseled muscle beneath the fabric of the flannel he’s wearing. This was only ever a job to you, never finding anyone all that interesting or attractive, but Logan – well, you’d risk your entire job if it meant you can have him for one night.

As the first song plays and filters the room, your eyes meet Logan’s who is staring at you with an anticipated look on his face. His eyes move along your legs, up to your midsection and then up to your breasts and back down. Slowly, you remove your robe and let it pool around your ankles as you strut towards him. Your hips sway with each forward step and Logan lets out a shaky breath.

Once you’re standing in front of him, between his legs, you lean down and gently brush your lips against the corner of his lips. His facial hair tickles your lips and you pull back enough to stare into his eyes, lips slowly grazing his own. “You can touch me,” you whisper and move your hands onto his strong shoulders, slowly straddling his hips. “To be honest, I’d let you do anything you’d want to me,” you say quietly into his ear.

Logan’s large hands immediately move to your hips, gripping it tightly as you sit firmly on his lap. He’s so hard and he feels so embarrassed, but the look on your face when you feel him alleviates some of the uncertainty he’s feeling.

This isn’t the first time you’ve felt a man’s erection while giving them a lap dance, but it is the first time that you actually let out a quiet moan as you slowly roll your hips against his own, to the beat of the song. The tension between you thickens in the air and you stare deeply into his eyes as you try to remember the routine that you normally do for this song.

You let me violate you

You let me desecrate you

You let me penetrate you

You let me complicate you

Logan’s hands slowly move from your hips to your thighs, his fingertips digging into the meat of your flesh as your hips roll against his. He clears his throat and watches as your eyes flutter with each movement. He has to wonder if this is all part of your act, that maybe you’re just acting like you’re enjoying this.

“Logan,” you whisper, moving to slightly lean back in his lap. You move one hand from his shoulder to reach behind you and rest on his knee as you lift your hips before coming back down on his lap. Logan groans quietly, almost inaudibly, as he moves a hand to splay on your abdomen, slowly moving it upwards towards your breasts.

I wanna fuck you like an animal

I wanna feel you from the inside

I wanna fuck you like an animal

My whole existence is flawed

You get me closer to God

When his thumb brushes against your nipple, feeling it peak beneath the sheer fabric of your bra, he has to wonder if maybe he crossed a line. Logan moves his hand away from you but you grab his wrist and move it back over your breasts. He smirks and wraps his free arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he leans forward.

You let out a quiet moan and feel a wetness settle between your legs that you have to lift your hips off of him, not wanting to stain his dark jeans with your arousal. Slowly, you stand back up and hear him let out a quiet, disapproving groan. You stand between his legs, moving one hand in your hair as you use the other to run along your body, grazing your own breasts and down between the valley of your thighs as your hips sway to each beat of the song.

You tear down my reason

(Help me) it's your sex I can smell

(Help me) you make me perfect

Help me become somebody else

Logan can smell your arousal, can smell just how excited you are and the uncertainty he felt earlier is now completely gone. His hands move up your legs, fingertips hooking into the thin waistband of your thong, but he feels your hands move to rest over his.

“Logan,” you say quietly. Even through the music, he can hear your voice, can hear the desire and yearning in your tone.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I want to take you home,” you admit, moving to sit back on his lap. “I know it’s very unprofessional, but–”

Logan grins. “Then take me home.”

—

Logan had told Wade what happened, the other man all too excited for him. He hadn’t expected this night to turn the way it did and there’s some part of him that doesn’t feel like he deserves it, but when he sees you step out of the club with that same sweet smile that meets your eyes, he pushes those feelings out of his mind. Because all he can think about is what’s going to happen next.

The drive to your apartment was short and the moment you step out of the car, Logan’s quick to follow you. He steps inside of the apartment with you and you shut the door behind him before you’re on him almost instantly. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and Logan’s hands move to rest on your hips. You stare up at him before you lean up to press your lips firmly against his.

Logan groans instantly against your lips, eyes falling shut as he follows your lead. You move one hand down his chest to his abdomen until it reaches the waistband of his jeans. He feels your tongue slide past his lips and he whimpers against you – he fucking whimpers. Logan’s used to being the one in charge that it takes him by surprise when you’re more than willing to take control.

When you undo the button and zipper of his jeans, you pull away. Your gaze darkens at the sight of him and you bring him further into your apartment, once more pushing him against your couch as he sits down with a grunt. Standing in front of him, you pull down your shorts and panties in one motion, grabbing the ends of your shirt to lift over your head. You stand in front of him, completely bare and exposed for him that Logan doesn’t know where to look first.

You’re so fucking breathtaking that he feels his manhood strain against the fabric of his jeans. Logan slowly pushes his jeans and boxers down his legs, catching the way your eyes widen at the sight of his erected length. He smirks to himself and undoes the buttons of his flannel, pushing it off his shoulders.

“Fuck me,” you whisper under your breath. “You’re so fucking hot, Logan.”

Logan bites his lower lip. He doesn’t have time to respond, to tell you that you’re the one who’s so fucking hot because you straddle his hips and take hold of length. He groans at the feel of your hand wrapped around him, lining him up to your opening. He doesn’t know how long he’s going to last – it had been such a long time since anyone’s wanted him like this, since anyone looked at him the way you did.

In his universe, everyone hated him.

But in this one – Logan has a second chance at living life the way he should have in the first place.

When you slide down his length, Logan’s hands move to your hips. He groans loudly, your walls surrounding his length – so warm, so wet, so tight. Your walls slide down every inch of his length until you’re seated fully on his lap. He looks up at you, sees the way your eyes flutter.

“God, you’re so deep,” you point out with a quiet moan, moving your hands to his shoulders. Holding onto him, you slowly begin to lift yourself before you slide back down. You can feel every inch of his throbbing manhood within your depths and he fills you so fully in a way that you’ve never felt before.

He shifts to lie on his back on your couch, staring up at you. Your hands move to rest on his chest, rolling your hips forward and backward. You can feel the hair at his base brush against your bundle of nerves with each movement, quiet moans escaping your lips.

Logan moans in surprise when you reach for his hands, lacing your fingers together as you press them above his head. He knows that he’s so much stronger than you, but he finds that he likes being at your mercy. You’re gripping his hands so tightly, pressing your joined hands further into your couch as you begin to bounce along his length. You lift yourself until his tip is the only part of him that’s within your depths before you slide back down, your tight walls sliding down each inch of him.

“Sweetheart, fuck,” Logan groans, squirming slightly against your grip. He feels your walls begin to tremble around him, can feel you tightening even further around his manhood.

“Lo– Logan!” you exclaim, moaning loudly as you slam down onto him. You shut your eyes tightly, slowly moving your hips forward and backward to ride out your high. You release his hands to brace yourself on his chest, the feeling of his hair at his base providing just the right amount of friction.

Logan feels a tightness building in the pit of his stomach and he gently lifts you off of him. You gasp, whimpering at the sudden loss of him before you realize that he’s close. You move down the couch and settle yourself between his legs as you take hold of his length, stroking him with a firm grip as your lips wrap around his tip.

“Fuck!” he groans, not expecting you to fucking suck him off. Logan moves a hand in your hair, tangling his fingers in your locks as he guides you along his length. Your hand strokes what your mouth can’t and when you hollow your cheeks to apply more pressure around him, Logan tosses his head back against the couch.

It’s sloppy, spit trickling down your chin as you keep your eyes focused on him. You move along his length, flattening your tongue on the underside of him as you feel each throbbing vein against you. Logan’s grip around your hair tightens and he lifts his hips slightly off the couch to push himself further into your mouth, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat as you gag around him.

Slowly, you pull away from him and smile. “Come for me, Logan.” Then, you wrap your mouth around him once more and bob your head rapidly, stroking his base. Logan shuts his eyes tightly, the tightness building once more as he lets out a loud moan. He gently pushes your hand away as he grips himself, using his free hand to pull you back from your hair as he releases into your mouth. He opens his eyes to look down at you, his seed filling your mouth and you eagerly swallow.

Logan groans, stroking himself to release every last drop of his spend into your mouth. You smile against him – you fucking smile with his cock in your mouth – and it’s an image that Logan will never forget. When you pull away and lick your lips, swallowing every last drop, you lean up on your knees and stare at him.

“Yum,” you grin.

Logan’s breathing heavily, moving one hand to rest behind his head as he looks at you with a small smile. “Didn’t expect this to happen tonight,” he admits. “But I’m glad it did.”

“Stay the night?” you ask.

Logan nods and sits up, gently pushing you onto your back as he settles himself between your legs. “Oh, sweetheart, I ain’t even done with you yet.”

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 3 days ago

Text

BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook | Drabble 1

Summary: When your very curious robot boyfriend finds all of your old sex toys. Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: Smut but that goes without saying for this fic p.s. I put out a mini drabble as well right before this in case you didn't catch it hehe p.p.s I have another temperature play drabble request so keep an eye out for that one in the future 🤭 Requested by an anon 💜

"What are these?" Jungkook asks when he walks into the living room where I'm sat down watching Hidden Love for the fifth time, holding up my little black box that I had hidden away and had completely forgotten about.

"NOTHING!" I say hurriedly, scrambling to get off the couch and tripping over the blanket I was using in the process. I regain my footing, run up to him and reach for the box but he holds it over my head, completely out of my reach.

"Are you cheating on me?" he teases, the objects in the box being ones I used before I got him. "You seriously think I would use those anymore? Now give it here!" I jump but once my fingers just barely touch it he grabs onto my hips to keep me from trying again.

I glare, waiting for him to give them back and when all I'm given is a stupid smug smile I resort to threats. "Give that to me or I will turn you off and make you charge on the floor instead of in bed with me" his eyes widen, not expecting that and deciding to do as I say, handing me the box of various sex toys that could never truly satisfy me.

"Why do you have so many?" he asks, picking up one very elaborate and confusing looking one that I snatch out of his hand immediately and put back in the box, shoving it in the back of my closet.

"Because none of them did everything I wanted them to" I sigh and close the door in hopes to help change the subject. When I try to walk past him though he stops me by wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me back to stand in front of him.

"I don't know why I asked since I know how needy my baby is" he says, his voice dropping a bit while he places kisses on my neck, knowing that'll help take the edge off.

"Why do you always have to go through my t-things?" I stutter, my resolve of trying to stay upset with him faltering. "Because I wanna know everything about you baby, and that includes all of your dirty little secrets" he says directly into my ear before sucking on the sensitive skin right below.

I shudder at the thought of letting him in that much and I know I will eventually but his want to figure out as many ways as he can to please me on his own is way too fun to experience, no matter how embarrassing it might seem.

"You like that huh? The thought of me knowing everything about you, all your deepest darkest desires that you haven't even dared to say out loud. My baby likes to hide that away huh? Too afraid to even tell me what she wants sometimes. That's pretty selfish don't you think?" he says, his grip on my waist tightening when he pulls me closer, his sensors picking up on my arousal and in turn hardening his length for me to use as I see fit.

"Why don't you let me use some of those on you tonight hm? Or better yet, let me watch you use them to get yourself off. I bet you'd look adorable, so frustrated and begging for release but never quite getting exactly what you wanted" he says but I shake my head.

"Too cold, want you" his presence tonight being one that drove me into submission so easily. I can't help but become putty in his hands sometimes. He was made for me and knows exactly what I like so why not give into what his programing is telling him to do to me.

"Aw, too cold for you? Needed me to warm you up?" he says, his condescending way of talking to me one of the easiest ways to tip me into that submissive headspace, only with him though. With him things are different. With him I know I'm safe.

I nod my head and my lip juts out the slightest bit leaving him running his thumb along it before I decide to open my mouth and run my tongue across it. His robotic pupils dilate as if they were human and the next second I'm on my back on my bed, him hovering over me with that sexy smug look on his face.

"Does my pretty baby want something?" he asks, caressing my cheek with a featherlight touch, and I blink up at him, still reeling from his sudden actions. He hums as a way to get my attention on him again, wanting me to answer his question.

"Want you" I say, hoping he'll accept my simple answer but I know he won't settle for that. "You've gotta be a little more specific love" he teases making me huff. "Oh come on, be a good girl for me and tell me what you want hm?" he mumbles and peppers kisses all along my neck and collarbone, having worn just a tank top and shorts today.

His hands heat up and run along my skin, warming me up just like he said he would but suddenly his hands turn ice cold, making me push him away but as always he doesn't budge at all.

"What the matter love?" he taunts, his hands quickly going back to a normal temperature. "Don't do that" I scowl, not liking the sudden change. "Lemme play around a bit yeah? Wanna try something" he says, clearly ignoring my scolding.

I squint my eyes at him when he looks down at me, a stupidly tempting look on his face. "Just trust me" he says, leaning down to mumble it against my lips, just barely kissing me before pulling back and looking at me again for confirmation.

After thinking for a couple more seconds I nod my head and he tongues his cheek, a habit that he picked up from who knows where but something that's become so sexy to me and he knows it.

He helps me strip out of my clothes and lets out a groan in approval, running his fingers through my folds.

"Baby is so wet for me already and I've barely done anything. How adorable. Been waiting all day for me to touch you huh?" he says, watching as my mouth falls open when he applies pressure on my clit just how I like it, tracing circles around it and alternating with just barely dipping a finger into my entrance, never giving me what I really want, playing with me just like he said he would.

When his fingers start to touch me with more precision, one finger pumping inside of me while his thumb circles my clit I feel that same chill run though my body and I realize his hands have gone cold inside me making me yelp and back away from him but he growls and uses his other hand to grip my hip pinning me down on the bed to keep me from moving.

"Stay still for me love, promise it'll feel good" he says and I decide to trust him. He knows what my body wants and what it can handle, the signs to look out for to know what's going on in my head.

"So good for me" he says, kissing me and starting to pump his fingers in and out of me again, adding a second one right away but switching the temperature back to a warmer one to help with the stretch.

Once he starts to feel that I've gotten used to the intrusion he changes the temperature just cold enough so I can feel it, my back arching as the only way I can move about since he's still got my hips pinned against the mattress.

"Shh I know I know. You can take it though, it's just a little cold love" he coaches, his cold fingers dragging along my warm walls making me wince. "This is w-why I stopped using them, t-too cold" I admit although I already had before, hoping that in some way that would make him stop but he doesn't.

"You know I'll take care of you though" he says, the temperature of his fingers changing back to normal now, giving me a bit of a breather but soon he's pulling them out of me making me wince for another reason.

"Where are you going?" I whine but he only laughs and gets off the bed to take off his clothes before crawling back on top of me. "My baby is so impatient, aren't you?" he chuckles, settling between my legs and dragging his tip along my folds, his brows furrowed in concentration while collecting my slick and rubbing it all over his cock.

"Just put it in already, please" I basically cry out, the temperature play leaving me incredible sensitive and he knows it, not letting up with this sick form of torture. He places his tip against my entrance, not pushing in and just teasing my hole and when I open my mouth to protest he shoves himself into me, knocking the wind out of me, his response a hum, clearly satisfied with the results of his actions.

"Couldn't even wait for me to fuck you like I wanted to, needed my cock in you so bad that you couldn't even shut up and wait. Thought you wanted to be good for me tonight" he grunts, slamming into me at a relentless pace, his robotic strength being unparalleled in bed. I sob, the intensity and the need to catch my breath overwhelming me in the best way possible but when he chances the temperature of his dick I'm screaming for him to change it back.

"Stop running" he growls, grabbing my hips and sitting back on his heels so he can fuck me onto him, pushing and pulling my hips so fast making my breasts bounce up and down. "Fuck play with your tits. Wanna ruin you but my baby can lend me a hand or two can't she?" he says, talking down to me like I'm fucking stupid when I clearly am, cock drunk and barely able to see straight.

I slowly bring my hands up my torso, ghosting my fingers along my breasts, "S-shit" he stutters, his programing really playing the part and making me moan at his reaction. "Play with your nipples baby, get them nice and hard for me" he says, his hands dragging my hips back and forth making his length disappear inside of me over and over, never ceasing making my cock drunk mind go blurry, my reaction speed severely diminished.

He decides to give me a breather, stopping his movements and putting his fingers in my mouth, my lips closing around them right away. "Make a mess baby" he say, encouraging me to get them as wet as possible, my tongue swirling around them, a pool of saliva now gathered and making a complete mess, exactly how he wanted.

He takes them out of my mouth and my brows furrow, not wanting to stop since the approving gaze he gave me while I did it being something I didn't want to give up just yet. He chuckles and rubs his fingers together, making sure his thumb, pointer and middle finger are covered before using them to play with my nipple making me whine at the harsh pressure.

"Shh it's okay, I got you" he coaches, the cold temperature making my nipples harden painfully, goosebumps now present all over my body.

"My baby gets so cold so easily. Want me to warm you up again?" he taunts and I nod my head, the rate of his thrusts though making it difficult to decipher but he knows and so he switches to a warmer temperature making me sigh in delight. It quickly goes from too cold to way too warm making me moan in delight, the scorching temperature being painfully pleasurable.

"Don't worry baby, it's not gonna leave a mark, I wouldn't hurt my pretty girl. Unless she wanted me to" he says, the offer enticing enough to make me think twice but I shake my head 'no' and he take it. "Baby doesn't wanna be branded? That's okay, I'll take good care of you" he coos and that he does.

Over and over and over.

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seungfl0wer · 1 day ago

Text

*𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝑵𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒃𝒐𝒓*

Pairing: Bear!Hybrid Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Strangers -> Lovers , Biting/Hickeys, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Use of Princess, Slight back scratching, Mutual Masturbation basically, Slight finger sucking, Slight belly bulge. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings.

A/N: after writing this I realize it’s not super beary lol. But it has hints I guess. I hope yall enjoy it though.

Series Master List

-🐾

A new guy had just moved into the apartment across from yours. When you caught a glimpse of him you were honestly shocked. This big muscular hybrid was carrying boxes up the stairs. You could see his muscles through his tight shirt making your face heat up. He was super attractive, cute little ears, fluffy brown hair. You couldn’t look away. When he passed by you again he couldn’t help but smile. You felt embarrassed being caught quickly getting your key out to open your door.

You’ve seen each other in passing a few times, a few polite hellos were spoken but not much more.

Checking your mail you realized your new table had come in but the assholes left it downstairs. Yes there was an elevator however how the hell were you getting it there? You struggled trying to bring it over only getting half way there before a friendly voice yelled towards you. “Need some help?” It said. As you looked over you noticed the handsome man walking towards you. Your heart doing flips as he made his way over. “Can’t believe they’d leave it down here” he said shaking his head. Without any more talking he picked the heavy box up like it weighed nothing.

You didn’t say anything more in shock that he could lift it. Making your way behind him to the elevator. He sat it down beside him smiling at you “I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself. I’m changbin” he said.

“Oh- yeah- I’m y/n” you stuttered out making his smile grow even wider.

“Whatcha order? Some bricks?” He teased.

“A new coffee table” you said with a laugh.

He nodded when the doors opened. He let you out first before grabbing the box. Making the way to your place you hesitantly opened the door, before letting him in. He sat the box down in your living room turning around to you with a small huff. “Need help putting it together? I’m great at building” he said.

“Oh uhm you don’t have to do that you literally just carried this up here” you said with an awkward smile. He made you all nervous and shy like a school girl around their crush.

“Nonsense, anything to help my pretty neighbor out” he said blushing at his own words. Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest from his comment. You felt a familiar warmth on your face, blush decorating your cheeks. His gaze came back to your face eyes almost like a puppy when he caught you blushing back. There was a moment of silence, it was almost calming honestly. It didn’t feel awkward it felt almost comforting. He cleared his throat laying the box on its side “so uhm shall we get started?” He said with a friendly smile.

As you worked you got to know one another. He had told you about him moving here, buying his own gym down the street. He told you about his passion for working out and helping others reach goals. He told you how he wanted to make a safe place for hybrids to work out and get better training for their kind. He gushed about how he worked with big panther hybrids that could climb super well, or dog hybrids who were super easy to train. He in the midst of everything told you he was a bear hybrid, a grizzly bear hybrid to be particular.

You couldn’t stop the words that were coming out “oh so you’re just a big ol teddy bear?” You said.

He couldn’t help but laugh, oh that laugh. It felt like a warm hug. “Yeah definitely am, I give the best hugs.. and cuddles” he said peering over to see your reaction. He wasn’t disappointed he watched as your face turned even redder than before. Your mind daydreaming about how it would feel to be curled up with him.

“You thinking about cuddling me hm?” He said teasingly.

“I uhm-“ you stuttered out only to make him laugh even more.

“Don’t be shy, if you want to cuddle I’m just across the hall” he said with a little smirk.

You could only nod not knowing what to say. What could you say? This man who looked like he was chiseled by the gods offering you to cuddle? Hello? You’d smack yourself to see if you were dreaming if he wasn’t here.

After getting everything finished you had offered him to stay for dinner which to your both dismays he said he couldn’t. “As much as I would really love that, I have to head back to the gym to clean and lock up.” He said with an almost frown “but how about a rain check? We can have dinner another night? Maybe watch a movie and talk some more?” He said.

“Yeah, that- that sounds great” you said with a soft smile.

After he had left you plopped yourself down on the couch. Everything of today just circling in your head. He was so kind, sweet and funny. ‘There’s no way he’s real’ you said to yourself making you chuckle.

After that you two talked more, exchanging numbers at some point too. “Just incase you need me for anything” he said while putting his number in your phone. After almost a month of talking almost everyday he finally said about having that dinner. However it felt like the world was against you today because it was one thing after another. Having to stay later after work only to come home to your apartment being freezing. “Great, just great my fucking heater isn’t working” you said with a loud groan. When you went to try to get a warm shower you realized the water wasn’t getting hot either. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

You wrapped a towel around you not knowing what to do. So you texted changbin “hey are you home yet?” You asked.

“Can’t wait for our dinner 😂” he texted back.

“Yes but no. Something must be up with my place. My heat won’t turn on nor will my hot water work.” You said back.

“I’ll be home soon, if you need there’s a space key in my plant outside. Go to my place.” He said back.

“I was in the middle of a shower :( “

“Shower at my place?”

“You sure?”

“Duh, now go get warm. I’ll be home in like 10.” He said back.

You threw some close on, finding the key quickly before going into his house. “His house is cold too” you whined but felt hopeful about the shower. You all had separate water heaters so hopefully his was still working. When you felt the water you let out a sigh of relief, yes hot water. You took note how clean his place was though. For a man living by himself it was pretty impressive. His room only being slightly messy but still somehow neat.

Half way through your shower you heard a knock at the door “hey, my heats not working either, is the water at least warm?” He asked.

“Yep! Your water at least works”

He felt a sense of relief, he knew he’d be fine. He was like a walking heater. So while you finished up he found every blanket he could throwing them on the couch. He didn’t even notice you walking out as he got everything situated. When he turned to see you standing there he let out a gasp. “You scared the shit out of me” he said clenching his chest making you laugh.

“I stopped by a place on my way home and got some food just incase the power wasn’t working or something” he said making his way to get the bags. He sat everything down on the coffee table, he moved some blankets and patted the seat. “Come here, I can see you shivering”

Sitting beside him you could feel the warmth coming off of him. He wrapped the blankets around you pulling you a bit closer to him. “God you’re freezing, you were supposed to take a warm shower not an ice bath” he teased. “Here, I got you some soup to warm you up” he said with that sweet smile.

After eating he put on a movie before pulling you to him. He wrapped an arm around your side trying to keep you warm. You were still shivering a little and it was making him a bit worried. “Wanna go to my room? We can watch the movie in there and cuddle? Be easier to keep you warm” he said with an almost worried look. When you nodded he wrapped the covers around you and with no warning he hoisted you up. He carried you bridal style to the bed laying you down gently. “I’d say I didn’t think you could carry me but you brought that heavy ass table up” you laughed.

“Oh please with these arms? I can carry anything” he said flexing his muscle.

“Whatever you say muscle man” you teased.

“Hey keep it up and you won’t get any cuddles” he teased back.

“You wouldn’t do that! You wanna cuddle me more than I wanna cuddle you!” You said with a pout.

“Oh so you really wanna cuddle huh” he said with a smirk.

He quickly got under the covers with you pulling you to his chest. His arm wrapping around you as he rubbed your back. “Whatever my princess wants” he said with a hum. When you didn’t argue or say anything to his words he couldn’t help but smile. You curled your body up around him draping your leg over his. He was so warm and boy was he so nice to cuddle with. It felt so comfortable and cozy.

After about an hour or so he noticed you were still slightly shivering. He figured it was your hair that was still a bit damp. He pulled you tightly to him, eyes going a bit wide when he realized you didn’t have a bra on. He could feel your soft breast against him, your hard nipples poking at him. His mind started to wander ‘I bet they’re so soft’ ‘I could put such pretty marks on them’. As his mind was flooded with thoughts he could feel himself getting hard. He felt embarrassed being turned on by you so easily but he couldn’t help it. You were so beautiful to him, like a beautiful warm sunset.

He didn’t even realize how close your leg was to his cock not until your leg brushed against it when you moved. Oh you definitely felt that. Your sleepy eyes widened at the feeling. You bit your lip trying not to moan at the pure feeling of his length against your leg. You moved a bit more feeling yourself getting wet at the thought of it. When the smell of you hit his nose he couldn’t help but let out a soft groan.

Without thinking his arm that was wrapped around you still slid down to cup your ass. Kneading it like he was making dough. A soft moan left your lips, he couldn’t stop himself. Turning his body towards you his lips crashed into yours. His lips were warm like the rest of him, tongue finding its way into your mouth. His hands roamed your body pulling you deeper into the heated make out session. They came under your shirt feeling at the soft skin. His big hand cupping your breast as he groaned into the kiss. His thumb rubbed over your sensitive nipples.

In the heat of the moment your wondering hands came down to his clothed cock. He was agonizingly hard. The gentle touch of your hand making him buck up to your touch. The kiss felt more desperate after that like he needed you in the worst way. As your hand ran up and down his cock he let out low groans only to be devoured back into the kiss. He slid the hand from your tits to your clothed core. Rubbing through the material only for a few seconds before dipping it past the hem of your shorts.

When he felt how slick your folds were his eyes fluttered. As he rubbed up and down you detached from the kiss letting out moan. Both of you had this hazy look on your face. He leaned his head into the crook of your neck kissing it sloppily his sharp teeth grazing it. When you let out another moan he couldn’t help drag them across again.

Your brain reacted without warning diving your hand into his pants to stroke his leaking cock. He let out a whinny groan bucking his hips once more into your touch. His fingers dove into your core matching the speed of your hand. The room quickly filled with whimpers and moans as you both touched each other. He nipped at your ear before he said in the hottest sultry voice “you really this wet f’me?” He said. When you nodded squeezing his cock slightly at his words he let out another honey groan against your ear.

“Tell me- tell me how bad you want me.” His voice deep.

“Want you- please Binnie” you whimpered.

“How many times have you thought about me fucking you princess hmm?” He said in an almost teasing tone.

“S’many time”

“Yeah? Have you touched yourself to me?” He asked.

“Y-yes”

“Show me princess” he said before removing himself from you.

He got up looking down you as he stripped himself of his clothes. He moved the blankets from you before quickly taking off your short as you rid yourself of your shirt. “Show Binnie how you touch yourself to the thought of me” he ordered. Your fingers slinked down to your cunt before circling over your clit. He watched intently as he stroked himself slowly. He watched as you dipped your fingers into your core taking mental notes of your noises. He again matched the pace of you, eyes glued to your wet hole.

“You- you close princess?” He said eyes half open. When you nodded he couldn’t help but groan.

“B-Binnie please- want you” you said desperately.

“Yeah? What do you want me to do?” He said eyes fluttering to your blushed faced.

“Fuck me- please- please fuck me binnie”

Without anymore words he kneeled in front of you, pushing your legs open more. When you pulled your hands away from your core he quickly grabbed your hand. He brought it up to his mouth sucking all your juices off of them before letting it go. “R-remind me to have you suffocate me between those sweet thighs later.” He said with a smirk. He gripped his girthy cock moving it up and down your folds before pushing in slowly.

He let you get situated with his sheer thickness before moving. Gripping your legs he fucked into you desperately, as much as he wanted to take it slow he needed you so badly. The feeling of your warm cunt sucking him in so good he couldn’t help it. His thick cock hitting the back of your walls, hitting right against your cervix. As he fucked into you, your arms came around him. Nails digging into him slightly. He watched your face contort in pleasure before quickly crashing his lips into once more.

The kiss was sloppy full of need, tongues wrestling for dominance. In one swift motion he pulled up to him lifting your lower body up. Your body arched in a new position had him feeling deeper. “Can you feel me princess? I’m right here” he said pushing his hand down a bit on your lower half. With that small push he felt even bigger. You could almost see him in your guts fucking into you so rough. You let out the most gluteal moan walls tightening around him. Your high washed over you unexpectedly making your body shake from the orgasm.

“F-Fuck!” He stuttered out. He moved his head down sucking harshly at your nipples. Teeth grazing them slightly. He brought a hand down circling around your clit. “Princess- fuck- you feel so fucking good” he groaned out against your skin.

“You feel even better” you choked out feeling another orgasms already creeping up on you.

Almost like he could read your mind his movements become more desperate “fuck princess you gonna cum again? Make a mess on my cock”

He nipped at your nipples leaving a trail of small bite marks and hickeys covering your breasts. “Wanna- cum with you” you stuttered out. He moved his head back up looking down at the mess you were in. The way those beautiful eyes looked so fucked out he was gonna lose it. “Close princess” he said before attaching his lips back to yours once more. He let your body back down on the bed his free hand coming up to cup your face.

“Gonna- gonna cum!” You said legs wrapping around him.

“M-me fucking too” he said in response. You could feel his cock twitching inside you. His hand playing with your clit more before he felt your walls sucking him in. “Cumming!” You almost screamed.

With a just one more harsh thrust he was cumming hard inside you. Coating your walls with his thick cum. He let out a loud almost growl before his body slowed.

He wrapped his arms around you kissing any part of you he could. After a few moments of catching breaths he felt your body shake once more. He couldn’t help but chuckle pulling the covers over the both of you. “How are you still cold?” He said. He leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you softly. “How about we get cleaned up and I make us some hot chocolate?” He said with smile.

You nodded but when he went to get up you quickly pulled him back “in a minute I just- wanna cuddle a bit more” you said softly.

“Whatever my princess wants.” He said nuzzling back into you.

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