#and if he talked to mark before they left

[sceletaflores]

SINK IN ME WITH YOUR DOG TEETH!

ೃ⁀➷ pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

ೃ⁀➷ wc: 7.0k

ೃ⁀➷ contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, feral nasty unhinged logan yes god, logan only slightly losing his humanity but like it’s a lot less sad than it sounds, maybe some toxic relationship dynamics but who cares it’s porn, predator/prey dynamics, p in v, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, HEAVY scent kink (like don’t make me say it…but beware of some very subtle armpit stuff), pain kink, biting is just another form of sexual penetration guys, blood, so much come and come talk, creampie, squirting, this is just gross, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

ೃ⁀➷ nat's note: hi…hi y’all…so here’s the winner of the poll and i need everyone to just hear me out for a second! walk with me! this is probably the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, like omg those tags. this upsetting depravity was inspired by this post by @stupidfuckingwindow and this post by @monimccoythings which both altered the chemical balances of my brain so fiercely i blacked out for a while and when i came to this was in front of me. merry christmas and happy holidays! take this not at all christmas themed fic as my present to you my precious angels. kisses!

dividers by lovely @saradika-graphics!

you notice a strange shift in logan...

There’s something off with Logan.

The changes were subtle, but you’ve been with him long enough now to pick up on them. And while he's always had a raw, untamed edge to him, a sort of wildness simmering just beneath the surface, this feels different.

It started with the way he would go quiet for longer than usual, like his mind was too far away for you to reach—lost to somewhere distant.

Logan has always been quiet, but this was a different kind of silence. Conversations that used to flow with ease now hang in the air, unfinished. All of his responses reduced to nothing but low grunts and clipped words.

And he was more territorial over you, so much more.

His hand has started to linger at the small of your back or the curve of your waist for a lot longer when you’re in public, his strong grip firm enough to remind you—and anyone nearby—that you’re his.

He would fume at even the slightest hint of someone else's interest in you, a low warning growl escaping his throat to anyone who spared you a second glance.

It wasn’t just the physical closeness, though. It was also in the way Logan has started to watch you—his sharp gaze a never ending constant. An all imposing, heavily looming shadow.

There were even times late at night when you thought he was asleep, that you’d find him staring at you in the dark.

Not the usual, protective gaze he’d have when he thought you were vulnerable, but something deeper, more intense. His breathing would be slow, measured, but there was this energy, this tension that hummed between the two of you.

The nights he did manage to sleep, he’d hold you close to him, his grip iron-tight, his face buried in your hair. If you tried to shift away, even for a second, he’d stir, his arms pulling you back with a quiet, possessive growl that sent a shiver down your spine.

There were bite marks on your neck when you'd wake up, small enough to pass off as nothing—at least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself, but each one felt like a brand. They were deeper, more deliberate.

Then there was the scent—his scent.

You swear it’s gotten stronger, more potent. It clings to you like a second skin, lingering in your clothes, your sheets, even your hair. An intoxicating blend of leather and pine and musk that makes your head spin.

Each time you left the house without him, he’d pin you to the mattress and rub himself all over you before begrudgingly let you walk out the door. His hands or his face running along the delicate skin of your neck, of your stomach, of your wrists.

Everywhere.

He was claiming you in ways—new ways—that left you both exhilarated and confused.

There were other things too, smaller but no less odd things that were starting to add up.

More and more of your clothes have slowly started to go missing over the past few weeks. Each morning when you open any of your dresser drawers, it seems like there are less and less filling them.

Shirts, shorts, socks, bras, panties. All things you’ve found shoved under his side of the mattress or tucked under his pillow. The most memorable hiding place was the front pocket of his leather jacket, your favorite pair of panties haphazardly stuffed inside.

You haven’t said anything about it yet, unsure if you should be concerned or amused.

It isn’t like he’s truly hurting anyone.

He’s just acting…strange.

A part of you can’t help but be drawn to it—the new intensity, the new rawness. There was something undeniably magnetic about the way he clings to you, like you're his anchor in a world constantly shifting beneath his feet.

You’ve seen Logan at his worst—bloody, broken, and lost. But this? It’s never been like this before.

Whatever it is, it has its claws in him deep, and by extension, you.

You just got home from a run, barely walking through the door and kicking your shoes off when a call of your name rings out from the bedroom.

Logan’s tone stops you in your tracks—low and rough, like gravel crunching underfoot.

Your reaction is nearly instant, breath hitching in your chest, heart skipping a beat as a warmth that has nothing to do with the temperature outside starts to pulse through you steadily.

It’s like you’ve become reprogrammed to respond to him this way, your body reacting before your mind can even catch up as his deep, familiar voice rolls over the sweaty expanse of your skin.

You drop your bag at your feet and slowly make your way to the bedroom, a bead of sweat trailing down your temple as you push the door open.

All the curtains are closed, the only light in the room a yellow glow that shines from your bedside lamp. 

Logan is sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his palms, but there’s nothing casual about his posture.

His gaze is locked on you, dark and intense, tracking every step you take, like a lion stalking a gazelle as it drinks from a watering hole.

“Didn’t tell me where you were going.” His eyes gleam as the lamp’s rays reflect off of them, his pupils dilated so he can see you better in the darkness that shrouds your room.

You swallow hard, trying to be as nonchalant as you can as your feet carry you to your dresser. “I went for a run,” you reply, your voice a little too steady, a little too casual.

You tug open the top drawer, rifling around for a clean shirt with a little more focus than necessary to distract yourself from the way his eyes burn a hole into your back.

“You didn’t tell me,” Logan repeats, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “You know I don’t like it when I don’t know where my girl is.”

There’s a sharp edge to his words, but it’s not anger—it’s something far more primal.

The energy in the room crackles like a storm about to break, and you feel it in your bones, in the way your skin prickles under his gaze.

"I was only gone for an hour," you say, your voice measured, careful. "You were still asleep when I left, I didn’t want to wake you." 

You chance a glance over your shoulder, and the sight of him steals the air from your lungs.

Logan hasn’t moved an inch from his perch on the edge of the bed, but the sheer force of his presence keeps you rooted in place, heart hammering in your chest.

“Hmm, that’s real sweet, baby,” he drawls, sitting up straighter now, leaning forward.

The motion makes him seem larger somehow, shoulders broad and imposing in the dim light. His tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip, and the way his gaze rakes over you feels like a physical touch, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

Your fingers still in the drawer, fabric slipping from your grasp as your pulse pounds in your ears. You can’t bring yourself to look away from him, caught in the snare of his sharp, predatory focus.

You turn slowly, arms falling to hang limply at your sides. "I wasn't gone long."

Logan tilts his head, a low, amused sound rumbling in his chest as he rises to his feet with a fluid, deliberate ease that makes your stomach flip.

“Didn’t feel that way to me, darlin’.” His voice is a deep, gravelly purr. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Felt like forever.”

His eyes never leave yours as he crosses the room, the green completely swallowed by the dark black of his pupils as they seep into the color like oil spilling out over the surface of a lake.

You’ve never seen him like this before, so hungry.

"Logan," you say slowly, back pressed tightly against your dresser. "You're really starting to freak me out." 

Logan hums idly, head cocked to the side as he watches you. "I can hear your heartbeat." 

His tone is calmer now, but there’s still a dangerous edge to it, like a knife pressed just lightly enough against the skin not to break it.

Your pulse races, heat simmering in your stomach despite the slight edge of fear clawing its way through your chest.

He stops in front of you, so close that his scent invades your senses strong enough to make your knees feel like they’re about to buckle beneath you.

“There’s nothin’ to be scared of baby,” he mutters quietly, thick arms coming up to cage you against the dresser. 

Your hold on the wood tightens, your knuckles turning white with the strength of your grip.

It’s almost chemical, the way you can feel your body start to give in to him. The thought fills you with as much arousal as it does unease, a heady combination that churns in your stomach.

You muster up enough will to breathlessly nod in agreement, a quiet submission.

Logan’s lips quirk into the faintest smirk, his heavy gaze dipping to the curve of your neck, lingering on the rapid flutter of your pulse. “That’s my good girl.”

Any words you might say get caught in your throat as you stare up at Logan, wide eyed and steadily leaking wetness into the gusset of your panties. 

His nostrils flare, and a knowing sound rumbles from somewhere dark and low in his chest as his eyes flutter shut on a deep inhale.

Your thighs clench together instinctively, the overwhelming need to be filled wracking through your body like thunder.

When Logan opens his eyes again, there’s no trace of anything but pure animal need. The muscles in his jaw working furiously under his skin in time with the strain of his forearms still caging you in place.

“Yeah…” he trails off slowly, tone both condescending and soothing all at once. “I know you’re not all that scared, honey.”

He leans in, tearing a small whimper from your throat at the way his beard scrapes against your cheek as he crowds you.

His breath fans over the shell of your ear, hot and enticing as they brush against your skin when he speaks again. “I can smell how fuckin’ wet you are.”

Logan’s words send a sharp jolt through you, a broken moan falling from your parted lips as your cheeks heat up so fiercely it’s as if you’ve been slapped.

Your body moves without thinking, pressing up into his hard, unyielding frame like you can’t help it—and maybe you can’t.

“L–Logan…” Your voice trembles, a weak thing that dissolves in your throat as he noses along the skin of your neck.

His hands come down to rest on your waist, palms rough and possessive and warm and a perfect fit where they lay over your curves, anchoring you in place.

“Shhh.” His lips trail down your jaw, leaving wet kisses in their wake. “You don’t gotta say a thing, princess. I know what you need.”

Logan’s hands slip lower, cupping the backs of your thighs with ease before hoisting you onto the dresser like you weigh nothing. The sharp edge of the wood digs into your legs, but you can’t find it in yourself to care about the discomfort.

Your hands go to his shoulders without much of a second thought, nails digging into corded muscle as you try to keep your balance. 

Logan’s hands stay on your thighs, his grip strong enough for you to feel the power behind them without hurting you.

He noses along your sweaty skin like a hot-tempered hound, desperately inhaling greedy lungfuls of your scent wherever he can get it.

Behind your ear, in the crook of your neck, along your collarbone, the exposed swell of your breasts, dangerously close to your underarm.

He groans against your shoulder, a full body shiver jolting his frame. “Smell so fuckin’ good darlin’, drives me goddamn crazy.”

You can’t form a coherent thought, let alone a response. His mouth finally finds yours, claiming you with a ferocity that steals your breath.

Logan's tongue slides against yours, a messy, desperate kiss that has you moaning into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer.

It’s filthy, fueled by nothing but raw need and desperation. Spit drips from your chin to trail down the length of your throat until it gathers in the valley of your breasts. Whether it’s his or yours, it doesn’t matter.

It’s a perfect mix of the both of you, lewd and messy in the way it claims your skin.

Logan breaks the kiss with a low moan, his chest heaving the same as yours as you both inhale harsh lungfuls of air.

His lips are red and raw, swollen in a way that your own must mirror. A string of saliva keeps you connected, drooping thinner and thinner in the space between you until it breaks under the weight of gravity.

Logan doesn’t give you long to catch your breath. His lips trail down your jaw and latch onto the sensitive spot just below your ear, teeth scraping against skin before he sucks hard enough to leave a mark. 

Your head falls back against the wall as his mouth moves lower, dragging the strap of your sports bra down with his teeth.

The way he’s acting—like a man crazed, like he needs you more than he needs air—has you dizzy with need. But there's a part of you that’s still trying to hold onto some semblance of control, to hold onto something familiar in the chaos.

It’s only then that you realize this may be a bad idea. 

Whatever this is, is clearly an accumulation of all the things you’ve noticed over the last couple of weeks.

Maybe indulging Logan will only make things worse, like giving in to him when he’s in such a state could be the tipping point to a much deeper and all consuming issue buried somewhere inside of him.

It can’t possibly be healthy for him to act like this, and it can’t be healthy for you to bask in it as much as you are.

“W–wait.” Your thighs slip shut, hands coming up to push at Logan’s shoulders weakly.

There’s no real force behind your ministrations and you keep your neck bared to him all the while, but he stops anyway, rearing back with a displeased noise. 

His face hovers inches from yours, and for a moment, you swear he looks almost pained—his brows furrowing, jaw tightening as though reigning himself in is a Herculean effort.

His hands remain on your thighs, trembling slightly as he keeps himself rooted in place, clearly fighting every instinct roaring through him to just take what he wants.

“You don’t want me to stop, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly, a stark contrast to the restraint in his expression. His thumbs stroke idly against your skin, his touch soothing even as his words drip with pure, feral confidence. “I can smell the way your pussy’s achin’ for it. I can feel it. You’re shakin’ for me.”

You are—your whole body feels like it’s on the verge of unraveling under his touch, your resolve crumbling faster than you’d like to admit.

Everything you were going to say gets clogged in your brain on the way out, leaving you silent as you hold his gaze.

You don’t even have the capability to feel embarrassed at the way you blanch, lost in the way his scent attacks your senses, in the rough drag of his palms over your bare thighs, in the way your lips still tingle from his kiss.

Logan sighs, long and all suffering as his hands come to rest on both of your shut knees. The impatient raise of his brow paired with the dissatisfied curl of his lips is enough to shake you to the core.

“Now, you gonna show it to me?” His fingers drum along your knee, his patience thinning. “Or am I gonna have to make you.”

And it may sound like one, but you know it’s not a question. 

It’s a choice.

Your mind races, hands clenching and unclenching on Logan’s shoulders as you weigh your options. His own hands squeeze your knees, just hard enough to let you feel it in your bones.

You spread your legs.

Logan doesn’t waste a second, dropping to his knees in front of you with a satisfied rumble and a predatory gleam in his eyes. His hands grip your thighs, pushing them even wider. Wide enough to make you feel exposed, vulnerable in the best way. 

Your head dips, chin falling to your chest as you watch the way Logan takes up the space between your legs. Your shorts are soaked, fabric so drenched that it’s melded to the shape of your cunt, your puffy folds on display for his greedy eyes.

“Fuck,” Logan breathes, his voice cracking like a whip in the quiet room. His hands find your waistband, and the dull sound of fabric ripping rings out.

The sturdy cotton tears like tissue paper in his hands, the scraps of your shorts falling carelessly to the floor, leaving you in nothing but the light blue panties you slipped on before your run. 

The way he gazes at the space between your thighs is feral, unrestrained, like he’s a man starving for his next meal—and you’re it.

“Look at that…” Logan mutters, almost to himself as he runs his knuckle along the wet cotton of your panties. His touch is featherlight, barely any pressure at all, but it’s enough.

Your breath hitches, a sharp intake of air at the teasing touch, and your hips instinctively cant forward, silently begging for more. 

Logan's eyes flick up to yours, a dark smirk curling his lips like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you—and how much you're already falling apart.

“Eager fuckin’ thing,” he drawls, voice rough with arousal. He leans forward, his hot breath ghosting over your soaked panties, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “You want me to give your pussy some kisses, baby?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words never make it out. Logan’s lips press against the damp fabric, placing a kiss right over where your covered clit throbs with need.

Your head falls back to rest on the wall behind you, a shocked moan bursting from your lips.

“Logan.” His name is pulled from your mouth like a plea, but he doesn’t let up, the sharp edge of his teeth scraping over the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden beneath the soaked barrier of your underwear.

“Hmm?” He hums against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your core. “Thought you wanted me to stop?”

The taunt is maddening, the rasp of his voice and the teasing flicks of his tongue combining to unravel you piece by piece. 

You shake your head furiously, thighs trembling where they rest on his broad shoulders. “N-no—don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Logan chuckles darkly, his hands sliding up your thighs to hook his fingers into the thin waistband of your panties. 

“That’s more like it,” he taunts. With a single, sharp tug, the ruined fabric joins the scraps of your shorts on the floor.

Logan groans at the sight of your bare cunt, slick with your juices and flushed with arousal. His mouth waters, his tongue running along the sharp points of his canines in anticipation.

You’re already so ready for him.

“You smell so fuckin’ good,” he growls, leaning in to drag his nose along the slick seam of your folds. The deep inhale he takes is obscene, sending a ripple of anticipation through your entire body. “Know that you taste even better.”

Logan licks a broad stripe through your folds, groaning like the taste of you is enough to satisfy him completely. His hands grip your thighs tighter, keeping you spread and utterly at his mercy as he begins to work in earnest.

He alternates between laving the tip of his tongue over your clit and dipping down to fuck into you, his beard scraping along the skin of your thighs in a way that’s almost too much. Your head falls back, hitting the wall with a soft thud as your vision blurs.

“God, Logan.” You squirm on the vanity, but he holds you steady, growling low and deep into your core like your moaning only spurs him on.

“That’s it,” he mutters between licks, his words unmistakably smug. “Make those pretty little sounds for me, baby.”

Logan circles your clit with the flat of his tongue, alternating between firm, deliberate strokes and light, teasing flicks that leave you gasping for air.

You cry out, fingers tangling in his thick, unruly hair as he repeats the motions, your thighs starting to tremble on either side of his head.

Every time your hips buck against him, he growls, the vibrations of it sinking into your skin and amplifying the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Stay still,” he orders, his voice muffled against your dripping core but no less commanding. His hands tighten on your thighs, holding you in place with an unrelenting grip. “You’re not in charge, sweetheart.”

You whimper, your whole body trembling as you fight the urge to grind against his face. But it’s impossible to stay still when he’s licking into you like a man possessed, his mouth working you over with an intensity that has your vision going hazy.

“I know, you're just so damn needy, aren’t you, baby?” He drawls , pulling back just enough to speak, his lips glistening with your arousal. “You love this, hmm? Lettin’ me take care of you?”

You can only nod, words failing you as his fingers replace his mouth, sliding through your spit soaked cunt.

“You’re so goddamn pretty down here.” Logan mutters, almost to himself, spreading your puffy, abused folds obscenely wide. 

He teases your entrance, fingertips dipping into your warm heat only to retract a second later. You whine, high and embarrassing as your hips twitch with want.

Logan watches your face closely, his expression equal parts smug and adoring as he finally sinks one thick finger inside you, curling it just right.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your head lolling back he adds a second finger, stretching you in a way that has your toes curling. He pumps them slowly at first, each deliberate thrust sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

“Takin’ me so well,” Logan murmurs, his thumb brushes over your clit, drawing tight circles that make your thighs tremble. “So tight and wet for me. You’re makin’ me crazy, darlin’.”

Your moans grow louder, unrestrained, as he picks up the pace, his fingers plunging into you with a rhythm that has your skin burning hotter and hotter.

Logan’s mouth returns to you with renewed fervor, tongue and lips working in perfect tandem as he drags you closer to the edge. 

He shakes his head back and forth like an animal, his nose rubbing up against your clit deliciously as buries his tongue as deep in your cunt as it’ll go. The coarse hair of his beard scratches the sensitive skin of your inner thighs red and raw.

You can’t think, can’t breathe, your entire world narrowing down to the feel of his mouth on you. 

“Logan—” Your voice cracks, your head falling back against the wall as the spring of pleasure inside you winds tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. “I’m—fuck—I’m so close—”

“Good,” he growls, pumping his fingers in time with the flicks of his tongue. “I can feel you squeezin’ me. I want you to come for me, baby. Wanna taste every fuckin’ drop.”

You’re powerless to resist.

You cry out, thighs clamping shut on either side of his head as you come on his tongue. Your body shakes so violently you knock a few things off the vanity, the distant sound of glass shattering hardly registers. 

Logan growls, low and dragged from the back of his throat in such a way that makes it reverberate in the space between your legs. His own arms come up, grip strong and encouraging as he forces your legs around his head even tighter than before.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, licking and sucking and pumping his fingers to drag you through the aftershocks like a man obsessed. 

When you finally come back to yourself, panting and trembling, Logan’s holding your shaking thighs apart, his mouth still pressed to you in soft, languid strokes.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, voice rough and gravelly as he presses a final kiss to your oversensitive clit. 

Logan’s hands slide up to your hips, gripping tight as he rises to his feet, towering over you with that same dark, predatory gleam in his eyes. 

His lips are even redder than before, swollen and slick with your juices. His beard is damp and shining in the low light, and the smug, satisfied smirk on his face sends another pulse of heat through your already spent body.

“Good girl,” he purrs, not even bothering to wipe his mouth before leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss that’s all heat and possession. 

You can taste yourself on his tongue, the salt and musk mingling with the raw hunger. It’s filthy and intoxicating, and it leaves you gasping for air when he finally pulls away.

But Logan’s far from finished.

His hands slide under your ass, lifting you off the dresser with ease. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively as he carries you to the bed and tosses you on it with little preamble.

Your back hits the mattress hard enough to have you bouncing on it once, twice, three times before Logan is crawling up to blanket your body with his. 

The heavy weight of his metal laced bones sink you into the soft plushness, keeping you stuck beneath him with nowhere to go.

Which you know is exactly where he wants you.

He slots his hips between yours, dragging the straining jut of his cock along your sensitive cunt. You can feel the warmth of him even through the thick material of his sweats, a scalding plane of heat that makes your cunt ache with need. 

You can feel the damp patch where his clothed tip nudges against your clit, and you know from that alone he’s already soaked through the cotton with pre-come. His cock leaking like a faucet in the harsh confines of his bottoms while he ate you out.

“Feel that?” Logan asks, voice hoarse as he buries his head in your neck. “That’s all ‘cause of you, baby. Got me drippin’ like I busted a damn pipe.”

The sharp intake of air you suck in at his words does nearly nothing to help your breathlessness, your desperation bleeding through as your frantic hands push at the waistband of his bottoms. “Off. Off.”

Logan huffs a rough laugh against your neck, his warm breath skating across your skin as his lips ghost over your pulse. “So fuckin’ bossy.”

He doesn’t move to help you, not right away, savoring the way your hands fumble and tug, your frustration bubbling over in breathy little gasps.

“You want it that bad, huh?” he teases, the rough timbre of his voice a stark contrast to the gentleness of his lips pressing along your jaw. “Look at you, so damn needy. Can’t even wait for me to get my cock out.”

You only tug harder, patience nonexistent as your fingers curl into the waistband. “Please, Logan. Don’t tease.”

“Alright, alright.” Logan finally gives in, sitting back just enough to push them over his hips, freeing his cock.

It springs free, slapping against his stomach heavy and slick with pre-come, the ruddy tip glistening in the low light.

The sight alone has you clenching around nothing, a devastatingly desperate noise falls from your lips as the ache between your thighs builds to an almost unbearable throb.

He makes quick work of ripping his shirt over his head, carelessly tossing it behind him before he’s back on you.

This time, when he bullies his hips in between yours, there's nothing separating you.

You feel every inch of his cock as it grinds along the seam of your cunt. The velvety skin is almost scalding as it drags against your own, the drool of pre-come only adding more to your own wetness.

Logan presses you into the mattress harder, rutting against your cunt almost desperately as he noses along your damp, overheated skin.

His mouth is everywhere. Sucking marks where the junction of your neck meets your shoulder, lapping up the sweat that pools in the valley of your breasts, licking a filthy stripe across the side of your face that has your cheeks burning.

He buries his nose in the sweaty skin of your underarm, whining and panting like a surly dog all over again. Each breath is hot and wet against you, and it only seems to make him hungrier, greedier. His cock blurts even more pre-come onto your skin with every inhale he takes.

It should gross you out. 

It should be utterly mortifying, but the sight of Logan like this only leaves you thrumming with want. 

His desperation, the raw, unfiltered way he takes you in—like he can’t get close enough, can’t have enough of you—has your pulse racing and your mind spinning out of control. 

You feel his nose press harder against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over you as he groans, a deep, guttural sound that reverberates right through you. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, voice gravelly and broken. “You smell so goddamn good. Can’t help it. Can’t fuckin’—” His hips jerk, the weight of his cock sliding slickly against your cunt, bumping up against your clit in a way that makes you shiver. 

“Logan,” you whimper, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Your hips lift instinctively, chasing the friction, the relief, the unbearable stretch you know only he can give you. “Please, I can’t take it anymore. I need you—need you so bad.”

He smirks, his lips curling against your skin as he nips at the curve of your jaw. “Need me, huh?” he murmurs, his tone dark and teasing. “Need my cock inside you, stretchin’ you open? Tell me, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.”

“So bad.” Your hips tilt up instinctively, desperate for him to push inside. The head of his cock catches at your entrance, the blunt pressure sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Need you so bad it hurts. Please—please don’t make me wait.”

Logan growls, a feral sound. “Such a good girl when you beg for me.” he snarls, big hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise so he can flip you on your front, gently manhandling you until you're on all fours. “Gonna fill you up, princess.”

His hands knead the soft flesh of your ass as he lines himself up behind you. The weight of his cock presses against your entrance, slick and ready, and for a moment, he just stays there, teasing.

Your arms shake beneath you, elbows locked as you force yourself to stay still, patient.

The head of his cock nudges against you, spreading your slickness, and your body trembles in anticipation. He sinks himself into you in one deep, unrelenting thrust.

The stretch is instant, the burn delicious as he pushes inside, inch by inch, filling you in one fluid, devastating stroke. A choked gasp spills from your lips as he bottoms out, his cock seated so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“Fuck.” Logan stills, his cock pulsing inside you as he lets you adjust, but the restraint is fleeting. 

His hands glide up your back, palms rough and grounding as they map every curve, every quiver of your body. He starts grinding his hips in slow circles, pressing every inch of his cock along your velvety walls. 

Your head drops between your arms, brows pinched together as you take in greedy lungfuls of air. You’ll never get used to this, the way Logan fills you so perfectly, no matter how many times it’s been.

“Come on, baby.” Logan leans down to press a soft kiss between your shoulder blades, his lips fever hot. “You wanted to fuck me so bad you could hardly wait. Now’s your chance, fuck me.”

It takes a few long seconds for his words to cunt through the molasses clouding your mind, the small thrust of his hips hinting at what he wants you to do.

You let out a pitiful whimper, hands digging into your bed’s puffy comforter as you start rocking your hips. 

You start slow, letting yourself build up a nice, steady rhythm as Logan purrs words of encouragement from behind you. His hands never leave your hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles over your skin as you start to pick up the pace.

“That’s it,” he encourages darkly, giving the rippling muscle of your ass a sharp swat. “Find the fuckin’ spot, baby. Write your name on this cock, tell everyone who it belongs to.”

You cry out at the sting of his palm, bouncing yourself on his length impossibly faster. Your arms burn under the strain of your movements, but you can’t stop chasing the high of pleasure that shoots up your spine.

The sound of skin on skin fills the room, a lewd slap slap slap as you fuck yourself on Logan’s cock like he’s a replacement for the cheap suction cup dildo collecting dust in a box hidden away in your closet—like he’s nothing but a expertly shaped lump of silicon molded solely for your pleasure.

You can feel yourself getting close to the edge, and in nearly no time at all. The telltale coil buried deep in your belly winding tighter and tighter as you work yourself on Logan’s cock hard enough that the cheap frame of your bed thumps against the wall.

It might be embarrassing if you weren’t so far gone already, so fuck drunk that the too loud moans falling from your lips hardly phase you.

It's like there's nothing but the feel of Logan inside you, bumping against that spot inside you that has stars shining behind your closed eyes. 

“Close already?” Logan taunts from behind you, voice just the tiniest but breathless, but the way his cock pulses and jerks where it’s sheathed in your cunt lets you know he’s right there with you. “I know you are, honey. I can feel how she’s squeezin’ me, so damn tight.”

His hands dig into your hips, not even waiting for a response as he starts thrusting in time with your bounces. He pounds into you, hips snapping against your ass hard enough to sting.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come too baby,” he bites out, the rhythm of his hips getting sloppier. “Gonna come so fuckin’ hard, fill you up so good. Shit–”

Logan pulls out enough that only the thick tip of his cock stays sheathed in the warmth of your cunt, his body falling to hunch over yours as he pumps his come into you with a feral growl.

You whine at the feeling of his release filling you, painting your insides with spurt after spurt of thick come. It’s so much, it’s always so much. A rush of warmth that floods your insides each time without fail.

And just like that, the feeling alone has you coming.

Your back arches as your cunt gushes over the tip of his cock, drenching his thighs and the rest of his shaft in your essence. You think you may scream, but it’s hard to tell over the white noise rushing through your ears.

Your arms finally buckle under you as Logan helps you ride out the last few tremors of your orgasm with a few slow rocks of his hips, and your spent body collapses onto the mattress.

Logan’s low noises of pleasure barely register as your chest heaves almost violently, your lungs desperately trying to get as much air as they possibly can.

But you barely have time to catch your breath before Logan plants his knees back firmly on the mattress and starts thrusting, again. 

“Logan!” Your hands scramble for purchase on the mussed sheets of your bed, the overstimulation making your legs kick out frantically.

“You thought we were done?” Logan asks, his tone equal parts amused and mocking. “You popped twice already, baby. S’only fair that you let me catch up.”

With no warning, he takes you in his arms, pulling his cock out just long enough to flip you on your back. He throws your legs over his shoulders before plunging back inside your fucked open cunt with a filthy squelch. 

He feels even bigger like this, yet your body swallows his cock like it’s nothing. The spongy warmth of your walls melding to the shape of him like it’s what you were made for. 

The coarse hair of his happy trail drags across your clit each time he thrusts, adding to the blistering feeling where the knife's edge of too much too much too much meets not nearly enough.

His come stuffed in your trembling cunt only makes it all the more filthy, his cock plunging inside you and coming back out slick and wet on every thrust. 

Your lips fall open on a broken moan, eyes screwing shut as you work your cunt around him, feeling the way his release gets fucked deeper and deeper inside you.

Logan notices, of course he does.

A dark chuckle rumbles against your own as he leans down enough to whisper into your slack mouth. “You like havin’ someone come in your pussy, baby?”

You moan into his mouth unabashedly, loudly. Both of your eyes burning as tears threaten to fall down the flushed skin of your cheeks, your throat going dry and scratchy in the best way possible. 

“Shit–” Your hands claw at the rippling muscles of his back desperately, nails digging into his skin hard enough that you feel the unmistakable slickness of his blood coating the tips of your fingers.

The pain spurs him on, his head tips down on a low groan and his eyes squeezing together for a split second before he’s spewing filth again.

“You want some more?” Logan asks, tone going dark like he already knows the answer as his hips speed up impossible faster. “You want me to come again?”

You don’t respond, you can’t respond. You can barely make a coherent thought. 

All you can manage are whiny moans that fall from your slack lips, broken little uh uh uh’s that get punched out with each new thrust. Your nails rake down his back mercilessly, leaving behind deep red welts that heal as you go.

“Yeah, I know you do.” He turns his head to nip at the skin over the delicate bone of your ankle where it bounces near his head, sharp teeth digging in enough to have you whining pitifully. “You love havin’ a messy fuckin’ pussy, don’t you? Love being stuffed so full of my come you can’t even hold it all, huh?”

His words hit you like a physical blow, lighting up your body from the inside out. Your thighs shake where they’re wrapped around his hips, ankles locking over his lower back so he couldn’t pull out if he wanted to.

His come mixes with your juices to coat his cock, completely drenched all slick and shiny in the dull light of your bedroom. It drips down almost leisurely compared to the near feral snap of his hips, trailing all the way down his length to his heavy balls. 

“Yes.” He groans, reverent. “Give it to me, baby. Wanna feel you come on my cock again, feels so fuckin’ good. Can’t ever get enough—”

You’ve never heard him like this, so high of pleasure that his speech slurs and his words all meld together into one filthy stream of ramblings that has you sinking your nails even deeper into his back and coming on his cock with a loud wail.

Your cunt convulses around him, shaking with the force of your release, milking him. 

“Fuck, princess.” Logan pitches forward, his sweaty torso covering yours as he keeps fucking into your shaking body, desperately chasing his own release.

Finally, with a muted roar of your name, he sinks his teeth into the tender skin of your neck and comes for you.

You cry out at the sharp sting of his teeth bearing down hard enough to draw blood, your vision whiting out with the pleasure of being claimed in every way imaginable.

Logan’s hips only stop when he’s drained of every last drop, his body shaking where it lays over yours. He laps at the broken skin of your neck, a soft gesture that isn’t quite an apology for making you bleed—because you know that he isn’t sorry whatsoever—but it’s nice nonetheless.

Your arms come up to circle around his neck, eyes fluttering shut as the exhaustion hits you all at once. You get lost in the steady rhythm of Logan catching his breath, in the way his heart pounds against his ribcage where his chest is pressed to your own, in the way his fingers twitch and flex on your hips.

The last thing you hear as you drift off, his come starting to leak down your thighs in thick streams of white, is a hushed whisper of “I got you, baby. I’m right here, I’m always right here.”

It puts you at ease, all the worry you felt over the last few weeks slipping from your mind like grains of sand through your fingers.

Maybe, this new side of Logan isn’t so bad after all.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[puck-luck]

home for the holidays | luke hughes

warnings: holiday quickie, gotta be quiet bc there's family around so like semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected p in v, dom!ish luke, light dirty talk, marks, light gag (fingers in mouth), talk about using toys

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: you and luke make a no-sex pact during your time at luke's home, but that quickly breaks after you exchange christmas presents.

wc: 2027

It’s your first Christmas with Luke’s family and the agreement was that you wouldn’t have sex in Luke’s bedroom with all of his family around. You’re already feeling lucky that his parents are the kind of people who allow partners to share beds during the holidays, rather than splitting them up and sending the partners to the guest room. Given the fact that there are a couple of girlfriends visiting this Christmas, it would be a tight fit in the guest room. You love a sleepover with the girls, obviously, but you’d rather have a sleepover with your boyfriend.

The fast pace of the NHL only breaks for three days– Christmas Eve, Christmas, and Boxing Day– so the “No Sex” pact should have been easy. Three days is nothing. It’s only 72 hours, six of which you spend in the car or on the airplane, so it’s more like 66 hours. You also have eight hours of sleep per night, and you’re staying for two nights, so that’s another 16 hours lost. So, really, you only have to make it through 50 hours without having sex. 

You make it through the first 24 hours just fine. You’re done with Christmas Eve dinner and you’ve all hung out for a little while, drinking eggnog and exchanging stories and laughter with Luke’s relatives. 

His hand had grown heavier on your thigh or waist throughout the night, as you consumed more of the cream-colored drink. It was rare for Luke to leave your side, except to refill your drink, and he’d had the wherewithall to cut you off after two cups of the spiked eggnog, knowing that you’d hate to have a hangover in front of his family the following morning. 

By the time the clock struck midnight, you were beyond ready to go to bed. The relatives had left the house with kind “see you tomorrow”s for the formal Christmas dinner that would take place at Luke’s grandmother’s house. Luke’s parents had gone to bed, too– Jim climbed the stairs right away, while Ellen hung out with the boys for about thirty minutes before going upstairs herself. That had just left the boys and the girlfriends, who had shot the shit for as long as they could, but you all were yawning after such a long day, so the party was cut short.

You and Luke had decided to do one more thing before bed on Christmas Eve. You were going to exchange gifts.

You’d gone first because Luke had insisted. You’d gotten him one of those handheld massage guns. Jack had one for their apartment already, but he was always hogging it because technically it belonged to him, so Luke wanted one of his own. 

The delighted surprise on his face and his earnest thanks, as well as the sweet kiss he’d given you, already had you hot and heavy. Luke’s body was no stranger to you and, probably partially because of the eggnog, you were in the mood to reconnect with him.

Then you’d seen the necklace. You’re still gaping at it when Luke speaks.

“It’s a sapphire,” Luke says softly. “I know you said you didn’t want an ‘L’ necklace, so I got you something more subtle. Sapphire is my birthstone– I looked it up– and I thought the blue would look pretty on you.”

“I love it,” you tell him. You carefully extract the necklace from its box and hold it out to Luke. “Will you put it on me?” You turn from him, moving your hair to the side and baring your neck. 

With gentle hands, Luke reaches around and sets the necklace in place. The sapphire heart rests between your collarbones. After he fixes the clasp, Luke’s fingers trail along the nape of your neck. You feel his lips brush against your skin, reverent and loving, and your “No Sex” pact goes entirely out the window.

The kiss is rushed and, while you’re the one leading it, Luke is not far behind. He’s actually rather quick to cover your body with his hands. His right goes to your behind, laying on your cheek and groping the flesh. He splays the fingers on his left hand, which engulfs a good expanse of your back. 

Your clothes seem to fly off, as do Luke’s. You’re left in your bra and panties, while Luke is in his boxers, and he pulls you to the bed. Tongues tangled, Luke lays atop you and brings his hand to your core.

You moan aloud when Luke sheaths two fingers into your pussy, working quickly to open you up. You and Luke freeze, eyes wide. Your legs are spread and his fingers are still inside of you, so anyone who wakes up and comes to check on you would get an eyeful.

Luckily, no one does, and Luke chuckles in relief. “You gotta be quieter, baby,” Luke mumbles before kissing you again. “I don’t want anyone interrupting us.”

“I will,” you promise hurriedly, tangling your fingers in Luke’s curls and tugging him closer.

Luke curls and scissors his fingers inside of you. You honestly try your best to stay quiet, but Luke’s digits always manage to draw noises from you without much effort. You kiss him. You press your lips together. No matter how you try to stifle yourself, noises leak from your mouth anyway. 

It isn’t until Luke plants his other hand over your mouth that you’re silenced. 

“You never shut up,” Luke says with a goofy smile, sounding more proud of himself than upset that you can’t follow his suggestion. “Do I make you feel good, sweetheart?” He strokes your g-spot after asking, which has you moaning into his palm like an answer to his question and arching your back. Luke grins. “Ready for my cock, baby?” Another stroke to your spot and another moan.

You feel his fingers withdraw from your cunt, which leaves you feeling empty and wanting for more. He’d nearly brought you to orgasm and now he’s taking it away. “Luke,” you whisper against his hand. He goes to remove it, but you grasp his wrist and hold him in place.

Luke quirks his eyebrows. He wipes the slick from your cunt on his boxers before pulling his cock from the flap in the front. “So no one sees my ass if we wake them up,” he explains, stroking himself. He makes sure the crotch of your panties stays to the side, then begins to inch forward.

Your eyes flutter shut and you melt into the mattress. You sigh, lips slackening at the sensation of his cock rubbing against your insides.

“Gonna be quick,” Luke tells you, dipping his head to kiss against your jawline. “You feel so good.”

You nod, blinking at him and maintaining eye contact. He feels so good. He’s the one who makes this feel the way it does.

His hips roll into yours rapidly, sending sparks through your being. Now that Luke doesn’t need to line himself up with your core, his hand has found its way above your shoulder, planted securely against the bed and keeping himself steady. 

Your nails find his arm, then his bicep, then his back. Angry red lines rise on his skin, which will hopefully fade by tomorrow. It would be terrible and scarring for one of Luke’s parents to catch you in the act now, but you’d feel pretty embarrassed if they were to notice the scratches and ask Luke about them tomorrow. You bring your hands back to Luke’s hair.

Chancing it, Luke groans under his breath and removed his hand from your mouth. He kisses you, trailing his tongue along your bottom lip. 

Tilting your chin down, you capture his mouth and suck on his tongue. 

He uses his free hand to draw your knee up over his hip, which brings his cock to a new spot inside of you. It’s deep and he’s constantly hitting your walls, sending jolts through your stomach. 

“Oh, fuck, Luke,” you whimper, louder than intended. 

Luke quiets you with a hush, then pushes his index and middle fingers between your lips. The pads of his fingers press down on your tongue, stealing some of the breath from your lungs. 

Your tongue starts to move, sucking on his fingers like you would suck on his cock. 

“Greedy girl,” Luke coos. He pistons his hips into yours. “Touch your clit for me, baby. Touch it like I would.”

Spit pools in your mouth when your jaw drops at the allure of his words, hand finding the apex of your legs and circling the bundle frantically. 

“No,” Luke chastizes. “You know that’s not what I’d do.”

You draw your eyebrows together and whine petulantly, but you halt your movements anyway. 

“Go on,” Luke encourages. “Do it like me or don’t touch at all. I’ll make you come regardless.”

He slows his hips and eyes you, challenging you. You know that he’ll stop if you don’t listen and you cannot fathom having his cock leave you.

Closing your eyes, cheeks burning a little bit, you pinch your clit between your fingers and roll it. It’s a move that Luke discovered when he was toying with you after morning practice one day, edging you mindlessly and testing to see what you like. It was relatively early in your relationship and you swear that Luke’s “discovery” was just the culmination of a bunch of near-orgasms that he had torn away from you. He’s been using this move for months and it has brought you to the edge more times than you care to admit. 

Smiling devilishly, Luke begins to fuck into you quicker than before. “That’s my girl,” he says. “Can’t believe you’re going to come in my old bed. So slutty, baby. I love it.” He pushes his fingers further into your mouth, silencing your response to his dirty talk. 

As embarrassing as it is, the pinching and twisting of your clit provides a bizarre mixture of pain and pleasure, which make your nerves feel abused and overcome in the best way. 

You start to breathe heavily, panting around Luke’s fingers as his cock batters your insides and your fingers stimulate your clit. A bit of drool pools between Luke’s fingers, mouth as wet around his fingers as your pussy is around his cock. 

Luke gags you on his fingers, his thumb pressing against the soft skin under your jaw while his digits flatten your tongue. You suck desperately, whimpering around him. Your cunt clenches in time with your swallows, which pulls Luke to the edge.

He comes undone first, orgasm starting as a trickle then turning into a series of spurts inside your pussy. It feels scalding against your sensitive inner walls, mixing with your juices. 

“Come with me,” Luke tells you as his orgasm hits. He comes closer and bites over your neck, refusing to suck and mark since he knows it’ll bother you the following day. “Come, babe. Keep touching your pretty, swollen clit and milk my cock when you come.”

His words tip you over the edge, tinging your eyesight with black spots. His fingers act as a wonderful gag, as they’ve been doing all night, but the addition of his ring finger keeps your wanton moans from shaking the house. 

Luke fucks into you through the aftershocks, truly allowing your entrance to squeeze every last drop from his member. He pulls out only to plug you again with his fingers, the ones that had just left your mouth. They slide inside you easily, aided by your spit and the mixture of cum that resides inside of you.

Plastering himself to your side, Luke kisses you sweetly. “So, you like the necklace?” He asks. 

You breathe out a little laugh. “Love it. It’s so cute, Luke.”

“Aw, just like you,” Luke says with a shit-eating grin.

You hit his shoulder, blushing. “Shut up. You’re so weird.”

“Just complimenting my pretty girlfriend,” Luke continues. He bends his arm at the elbow and props his head up on his fist, looking down at you. “Hey, do you think we can use my massage gun as a vibrator?”

notes: merry christmas to those who celebrate and happy end-of-year to everyone who DOESN'T celebrate christmas but still wants to be included! love you guys. i hope this was a satisfactory christmas present <3

[thatone-girly]

PRETTY GIRL

Summary: Six months postpartum and Cleo is still insecure about herself. Terry has had enough.

Terry Richmond x Black!OC

18+ Content! || porn with little to no plot, married couple, slight daddy kink, p in v, mentions of postpartum depression, mentions of insecurity

Cleo gasped, the faint sound getting caught in her throat as her nails dug into the meaty flesh of Terry’s arms. Her toes curled tightly as the tremble in her thighs intensified. The constant jabbing and stimulation of her g-spot due to Terry’s deep, digging strokes sent intoxicating waves of pleasure through her body, leaving her looking fucked-out and dick drunk.

Another whine left her swollen, parted lips, eyes rolling back in her head as her knees came together in an attempt to slow Terry’s mid-paced strokes. “Mm-mm…”, he hummed, his right hand moving to smack her thigh. “Open them legs. Let me see that pretty ass pussy.”

He didn’t give her much of a chance to follow his commands before he hooked his huge hands around the back of her knees and pushed them up to her chest. His gaze stayed fixed on her creaming tightness, watching the milky white ring she left grow thinker and larger. “She so pretty…”, he mumbled, “just like you.”

His plump, pink lips wedged between his pearly white teeth as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Look at her.”, he took his right hand off her thigh and cupped his hand around he jaw, forcing her to look at their connected parts. “Look how she’s creamin’ around me.”

Cleo blinked to clear her hazy vision, focusing in on his length moving in and out of her with ease. Seeing first hand the sticky mess she was making made her even wetter, causing her nails to dig deeper into Terry’s arms. “Terryyy…”, Cleo whined, her eyes fluttering closed as her head fell back against the sheets.

Terry, whose hand had moved from her jaw to around her neck, hummed in response. “What’s the matter, mama?”

Breath partially taken from his firm grip on her neck, Cleo released a choked moan as the tremble in her legs intensified. “Talk to me, baby”, Terry mumbled, his grip tightening softly, “tell daddy what’s wrong.”

Cleo whined in response, her walls tightening around him as her toes curled tightly in the air, “y-you’re so deep, baby.”

A cocky grin spread across his face, his bottom lip moving to rest between his teeth once more. He told her this would happen. He told her all it would take was just one more time for him to catch her looking at herself negatively in the mirror, one more time to catch her starving herself to lose weight, one more time for her to talk down on herself. One more time and he was going to do something about it.

He made it clear from the first time she made a comment about her postpartum body that he would not tolerate his wife being insecure about the body that carried their child. But for a while, he did. He knew postpartum depression was a bitch, and he saw it take its ugly toll on Cleo. He hated seeing her so upset about the changes her body had gone through bringing their baby girl into the world, and quite frankly, he didn’t understand. Hell, he loved it.

He loved everything. The way her hair grew, the way her skin became glass, the way stretch marks were visible on her thighs, ass, and stomach. The way her chest grew, hips expanded, and her ass got fatter? Oh, you know he was loving that. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t love it. Honestly, he didn’t want to. One too many negative comments about herself and he had had enough.

He told her the next time she said something negative about herself, he’d fuck the shit out of her. If he couldn’t talk her into feeling beautiful, he would fuck her into feeling beautiful. He made it clear that he would go so deep inside of her that she wouldn’t even remember what she was insecure about.

And she didn’t. She barely even remembered her name right now.

His name seemed to be the only thing she remembered, because in the moment, it was the only thing she could manage to say. Beside the occasional whines, whimpers, and cries, the only thing leaving her mouth was Terry’s name. But that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Look at me.”, he commanded, his deep green eyes burning into her face. Cleo peeled her eyes open, locking eyes with her husband. They held intense eye contact, the effects over their intimate dance causing butterflies to swarm in Cleo’s stomach. “Tell me what I wanna hear.”

Cleo didn’t have to ask what it was he wanted her to say. He’d been saying it to her since the day they met, and after she had the baby, he said it ten times more. Now he wanted her to say it.

But Cleo didn’t want to say it. She didn’t think it was true.

Noticing her eyes starting to close, Terry smacked her thigh with his free hand while putting more pressure on her throat with the other. “Don’t look away from me, Cleo.”

Cleo yelped at the harsh contact his large hand made to her thigh as her eyes shot open. “Tell me what I wanna hear.”, he repeated, his hips moving in ways that damn near made it impossible for Cleo to keep her eyes open, let alone talk. “Come on, baby…say it for me.”

Despite his pussy-wetting words and leg shaking strokes, Cleo still refused to say it.

Terry said nothing. Instead, he began to retreat from her walls and let go of her neck. Whining from the feel of his exit, Cleo hurriedly reached out to grab his arm. “No, don’t stop! Please, don’t stop, it feels so good!”

At her pleading words, Terry slowly pushed back inside of her. “Well stop playing and tell me what I wanna hear.”

Gasping as he stretched her again, Cleo’s back arched off of the bed as he inched closer and closer to that sweet spot of hers. She knew him and she knew how petty he was. He was purposely avoiding hitting her spot until she said what he wanted her to say.

Burying his head in her neck, Terry peppered kisses along her neck as he mumbled, “Come on, mama. Let me hear you say it.”

Whining as her walls contracted around him, Cleo mumbled, “I’m beautiful.”

“What you say?”, Terry mumbled as his lips pressed repeatedly against the sweet spot on her neck. “I ain’t hear you.”

Cursing under her breath, Cleo fought not to lose her damn mind as she draped an arm over Terry’s neck and both voluntarily and involuntarily raked her nails over his shoulder blade. “I’m beautiful…”, she repeated in her whining tone, her free hand reaching up beside her head to grip the plush pillow. Cleo wanted to slap the shit out of Terry for having her like this. Better yet, she wanted to slap the shit out of herself for pushing him away for so long. Her insecurities kept her from damn near seeing heaven, and damn was she mad about it.

Terry needed to say nothing to let Cleo know her words had been accepted. All he needed to do was push his hips a little bit deeper, and there it was.

Cleo needed to say nothing to let him know that he’d found that spot, because the involuntary bucking of her hips along with the trembling of her legs and gasp of pleasure, Terry knew. His low chuckle of contentment confirmed that as he lifted himself from the crook of her neck to balance himself on his hands and continue to roll his hips in that same pattern. Looking down at his dazed wife, Terry chuckled once more and took his bottom lip between his teeth, asking, “I’m hittin’ that spot, huh?”

Cleo, in her otherworldly pleasure, could only grip the pillow tighter and continue to let her sweet love sounds slip past her parted lips.

Terry could do nothing but admire her when she was like this. Her legs spread all over the bed, hands clenched in the sheets, hair wild as hell. She was a disheveled, sweaty, moaning mess. But still to him, she was the prettiest thing in the world.

He watched as her tired brown eyes rolled back into her head and her head fell back against the bed as she tried not to be too loud and wake their baby girl across the hall. He took a second to let his head fall back and avert his vision to the ceiling from both pleasure and to take a breather, because if he kept watching Cleo, he would get her pretty ass pregnant all over again.

Hearing her whine his name again in that familiar tone, he quickly returned his attention to her. She was close.

“What’s the matter, baby?”, he cooed as he moved his right hand down to her bundle of nerves and used the pad of his thumb to rub slow, sloppy circles, “you gon’ cum for me? hmm?”

Moaning aloud in response to his unexpected touch, Cleo’s hand quickly moved down to his hip in an attempt to halt his movement just for a second so she could get some air back in her damn lungs. “W-wait, T…”, she murmured, fighting to keep her eyes from doing yet another roll inward, but damn did she feel good. Hell, she could barely talk without moaning.

Shaking his head, Terry’s hips continued to move, fighting back against her weak pushes. “Nah”, he mumbled, his thumb continuing its rotation on her pleasure point, “don’t tap out on me now, Cleo. Gimmie that nut. Let me have it.”

And just like that, his wish was her command. “Oh, f-fuck, Terry!” Her volume control was out the window, as was her mind as an orgasm sent from God himself ran its course. His name upon her lips was music to Terry’s ears as he continued his movements, helping her ride out her high.

Motions slowly coming to a halt as her body relaxed, Terry chuckled as he watched her pleasure cost his shaft in creamy coats. Finally being allowed to catch her breath, Cleo’s chest rose and fell at a semi-rapid pace. “Terry…what the fuck?”, she whined as she raised a hand to cover her face.

Chuckling once more, he gently removed her hand from face before peppering kisses all around it. She smiled weakly as he whispered, “You did so good for me, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

With more kisses to her face and her lips, he then murmured, “but I know you got some more in there for me. Gon’ head and turn over.”

[simp-ly-writes]

When All That's Left is Love

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.9)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: After everything you both had been through; the pain, the torment, the utter longing, you and Jayce can only find your love leftover in the post-war rubble and go on to find various ways to show each other that your love is truly enough.

─ · · THE FOLLOWING CONTENT IS BETWEEN CONSENTING ADLUTS AND IS NOT MEANT FOR ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18. skip the smut once seeing the star! ⭐️ tags under cut

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, protective! jealous! possessive(?)! Jayce, fluff, emotional angst (happy tears*), Evren (OC), kissing, teasing, swearing, brief descriptions of an anxiety attack, mentions of death and war, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce, not beta read. smut: unprotected pinv sex (be safe please!), oral (fem receiving), dom!Jayce, almost caught, chocking, marking/biting, size kink?, hand kink?, dirty talk, aftercare.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,456 | PART ONE | PREV PART | NEXT PART

─ · · A/N: a gift from me to you~ (gosh i'm so in love 😫🫠)

─────── · ·

─ · · Evren had come by near the end of breakfast as he helped ensure there would be no leftovers. He offered a giddy smile before stuffing his face and licking the plate clean. You sighed, disappointed, I was really looking forward to those waffles later. You feel Jayce's stare on you, catching your sad look as you stare at Evren's plate longingly. "Want to get ready together?" You feel Jayce hot breath whisper into your ear, you turn your head over your shoulder and nod as Jayce pulls your chair out and you both head down the hall.

"Would you mind helping me to the market? I used up the last of the eggs," Ximena asked, grabbing Evren's arm. "Of course, gorgeous," is the last thing you hear Evren say to Xiema before the bathroom door closes.

"You really are okay with Evren flirting with your mom?" you question as Jayce shrugs his shoulders, "my mom has better taste than him." Your jaw drops, "Jayce!" you shout before cracking up and Jayce can't help but laugh as well.

─ · · You and Jayce proceeded to get ready in the bathroom... or well, at least you tried too, Jayce on the other hand seemingly couldn't allow you to focus on anything but keeping his touch on you; pulling your head in his direction for a kiss before wrapping his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder as he looked at you both through the mirror with a grin- kissing you on the cheek. "Jayce! I can't get ready if you're all over me like this."

Jayce sighs, peeling his head away yet his arms and chest still block you against the vanity. "Someone's desperate for attention," you mumble underneath your breath, bending down as Jayce groans, not knowing that you would pay for your words and actions later.

You look for your hair product in the cabinet but just as you feel his hips roll into your backside you stand up straight and continue your routine- refusing to even make eye contact with him in the mirror.

With a huff Jayce pulls off his shirt before walking over to the shower albeit it slowly- knowing that the moment you saw skin, your attention was drawn to his back muscles flexing as he reached over to adjust the temperature and the small chain that dangles around his neck, you raise your brow curious as to what it is.

Steam begins to fill the small space as he turns around, bare chest brushing up against your covered one to grab a towel. Your hand grasped his side, eyes connecting with your promise ring dangling from his neck- you blink away the memories of that moment before trailing your hand slowly around and down to his stomach as you bite your lip, looking up at him.

Jayce says nothing, simply unbuckling his belt but before you can remove your hand he grasps your wrist, pulling it back to rest on his abs in a silent demand before you hear the leather slipping through the belt loops and crashing against the floor. You feel a wave of emotions come over you as your cheeks warm, your eyes not knowing where to rest upon as Jayce stares down at you, his body taking up your frontal vision and your hand so close to his- you simply stare up at the ceiling trying to calm yourself with deep breaths, I have work I need to get done today, I have work to do, I have-

─────── · · ⭐️

You feel Jayce's lips against your exposed neck feeling as he smiles against your skin once hearing you moan, fuck, that you quickly try and cover with your other hand. "God you're so beautiful," Jayce murmurs- his hands reach up your shirt leaving you gasping as he gropes your chest and feels for a clasp. Your hand slips from your mouth, "Jayce" you whisper-shout his name slowly in warning your yet it comes out more like a plea.

"Mhmm?" He murmurs, lips finding your cheek trailing down to your chin and across to your lips. You feel his breath, hot and heavy as he speaks softly to you, "I know you worked so hard on your make-up and hair darling, I won't mess it up, promise." You feel as he pulls away, your eyes opening as he pats the counter, "sit."

You stare for a moment, thighs clenching together, you can feel your core start to throb in want as Jayce watches the gears turn in your head, "just want to make you feel good, sweetheart." You cover your face with your palms, shaking your head, trying to regain your rationale mind but all you can think about us how good his fingers would feel stretching you out, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your clit, the feeling of his beard scratching the skin between your thighs- you groan before lifting yourself onto the counter, looking at Jayce with pleading eyes.

Jayce rubs his palms up and down your thighs, feeling as they tremor in wait, the material of your nightgown starts to bunch up at the top of your waist exposing your wet folds soaking through the fabric of your undergarments. You shiver feeling the ghost of his knuckle teasingly swipe up and down your folds, "this wet for me already?" you nod, staring down at his hands watching the veins that bulge across the back of them and how they run up his forearms, you bite your lip remembering all the nights you fantasized about those exact hands helping you to reach your release and how many times your own fingers failed to compare.

You wiggle against the countertop in need, ready to start begging and by the look in Jayce's darkening eyes, he expects you to beg for him. "please just touch me, please," you press yourself against his hand, rotating your hips as he pushes the heel of his palm against your clit, you groan once finally finding friction to soothe the ache within you.

Jayce pulls his hand as you hump air for a second ready to complain before feeling as Jayce pulls down your ruined panties, casting them aside with his belt. Two large fingers circle around your leaking hole, the first knuckles sneaking in to gather your wetness before carrying it up to clit- pinching it and getting you to whine. When Jayce beings to rub, your head soon feels too heavy for your body- your forehead falling against his shoulder, "feels so good, Jayce," you hum into his ear, he smiles at the praise, "missed my fingers-hm?"

"mhmm, so much, Jayce. Just didn't feel the same," Jayce's movements pause again and you are beyond frustrated, reaching down to move his hand but Jayce remains firm, looking at you in the eyes with a strong, no.

"Who touched you here? tell me," Jayce asks, taking his attention away from your clit and instead entering your hole, filling you slowly before stopping halfway seeing as you don't answer him, "who fucked this pussy?"

"Only you since then Jayce, promise, only you," you feel yourself drip down your thighs as you pray for another finger to further the already delicious stretch you feel. "So this is mine?" you nod your head frantically feeling that third finger prodding at your entrance, the stretch a pleasurable burn as you grip his forearm, "all yours" you moan out feeling as he fully pulls his fingers out before filling you quickly and roughly.

"Mine to finger?" he kisses you once, another thrust, "yes," you whisper against his lips.

"Mine to fuck?" his kiss lingers, teeth pulling at your lip, "yes," you moan out, feeling his other hand move to place pressure againat your clit in small circular motions. The steam of the room coats your mind in a foggy haze of pleasure.

"Mine to cum in?" you clench down on his fingers, hard. Jayce presses his head against your own, breaths ragged, you feel across his chest down to his abs as he continues to fuck you with his fingers feeling as his muscles tense with every breath he takes.

Sparks explode across your hot skin that quickly turn into flames as you wiggle your hips, chasing your impending release. "Did you dream of me, baby? Me filling you up? Stretching you out? Reaching parts inside of you that no one else could? Marking you with my-"

"Jayce!" you yell, his words inciting your orgasm to come crashing down as you moan and whine against him yet Jayce only quickens his pace, slamming his fingers in and out of your gushing hole, the entire scene obscene as you flush at the squelching sounds of your lingering orgasm.

Your thighs are shaking as the once pleasurable burn turns into painful sensitivity, you tap Jayce's back three times getting him to stop. You watch as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your dripping cunt and see the way that they gleam underneath the artificial lights.

"My messy girl," Jayce belittles you, licking your release off of his fingers slowly, enjoying the taste thoroughly before bending down and forcing your knees apart, "let me clean you up?" he asks, looking up at you with large and shining hazel eyes- pleading.

How could you refuse that look? Grabbing him by his curly brown locks you lead his face towards your sex, withering and learning back against the cool mirror once feeling his rough tongue take a long lick up your slick. "J-jayce~" you sob his name and feel his moan vibrate your clit, your ankles lock behind his back, pushing him further into you.

Jayces hands grip your thighs tightly, you know marks will appear later but how could you care when he was making you see literal stars as you blinked looking up into the light fixture, lost in pleasure. "I'm gonna cum... a-almost there," you look down meeting his eyes as his tongue enters your hole making sure to gather every last drop of your previous orgasm.

You open your mouth in a silent scream, gripping his hair as he groans, nose rocking against your clit as your muscles clench- your orgasm rocking through every vein in your body, tingling and coming to life as your breaths become short and staggered before hitching as Evren calls your name from the front door.

You freeze, trying to pull Jayce away yet he just shakes his head, continuing to lap up your cunt as you plead at him, "J-jayce I-ah," you whisper through moans trying to wiggle yourself away but only finding yourself sitting more on his face, his hands squeezing and gripping your ass in warning.

You breathe out a sigh in relief once feeling him pull away, not bothering to wipe his mouth as he pulls you in for a kiss- tasting your release on his lips. You push your hands at his chest, needing air as he kneads your muscles, "I have to go see him," you try and explain to Jayce, feeling as he rocks his covered bulge against your prepared entrance. "Yeah? you need to go see him?" Jayce counters while starting to pull your night gown and bra with it over your head.

"I-I thought you said you weren't going to mess up my look," you try and counter with pout and glare once seeing your reflection in his dark eyes. Jayce smiles softly, "you're glowing, my love." You shake your head with a sigh, "I just came twice Jayce, I'm covered in sweat-there's a difference," you try and explain yet Jayce only shakes his head, kissing you to effectively shut you up. You hear Evren yell your name again, the front door slamming closed as his footsteps continue inwards into the apartment.

"He'll leave soon," Jayce explains as you listen to him unzip his pants, feeling as he rubs his length across your slick before feeling the tip of his cock poke at your hole- threatening to enter. Jayce tilts your head to the side, brushing your hair away before kissing up your neck to behind your ear, biting down on your lobe and whispering inside, "say you don't want this and I'll stop so you can go say hi to your friend."

You sigh frustrated, Jayce knows what he's doing, knows that your need is speaking louder than your brain. Evren will leave... right? "I need you Jayce," you confirm feeling as your hole wraps around the head of his cock, sucking him in. Jayce curses underneath his breath, knuckles turning white as he grips the countertop. "You have to relax for me, sweetheart. A bit too tight," Jayce says, biting his lip listening to you whine and force yourself to relax.

Jayce sighs, pushing himself in inch by inch, the time apart and the prep from his fingers could only do so much to fit you around his girth as you hissed, nails clawing into his back as he rocked you both gently to start. A hairbrush of yours falls and clatters against the tiled floors. Jayce leans forwards- sinking deeper into you, pressing a kiss to your nose before leaning down and leaving wet hot kisses against your shoulder.

"Hows it feel? you doing okay?" a knuckle gently brushing up and down your spine as you shiver and wiggle your thighs around his waist, "feels... good, so good, Jayce. So deep- thank you, Jayce, thank you," you cry out in bliss feeling him rock into you again, your walls aching with need.

"Yeah? This what you needed-hm? Just cock in you to make you relax?" You lean forwards pressing a kiss to his arm- not trusting your words as only moans come out of your mouth in between gasps of air as he forces himself in you again and again... a knock at the bathroom door sounds. You freeze yet Jayce keeps fucking you, uncaring as he smirks and looks down at you, wondering when you'll tell him to stop.

You stare at him blankly, a harsh snap of his hips has you about to moan yet he places his lips quickly against your own to muffle the sound, "quiet" he hisses into your ear afterwards. You paw at his arms, mind half filled with desperation for him to fill you, the other side to wanting to pull away. You close your eyes, thankful for the shower still being on but praying for Evren to just walk away.

Jayce begins to rub at our clit, your hands fall off Jayce's arms as you arch your back, leaning against the counter. After hearing nothing for a little while you look up at Jayce, I'm close, you try and whisper to him before biting back another moan- feeling as your eyes well with tears.

Jayce removes his hand from your clit, grabbing your waist as he starts to fuck you harder, hips slamming into your own as Jayce chases his own release.

You can barley contain yourself as you cry out in pleasure, mind fully gone, only thoughts of your impending orgasm clouding over. Jayce watches as your eyes roll into the back of your head, the way your chest bounces with every thrust of his cock into your leaking core. You feel as his hand snakes its way up between your breasts before gently gripping the sides of your throat in warning.

Another knock sounds, this time louder, "Hey, you doing okay? I'm gonna head to the library, take it easy today alright?" Evren says, voice close to the door. Jayce pulls your neck towards him, your eyes looking into his own as he squeezes again in warning before slowly releasing his grip. You clear your throat yelling, "Okay Ev! I'll see you tomorrow!"

"See you then!" you hear him tap the door twice in goodbye before locking your front door again. You collapse against Jayce's chest, moaning loudly, "Did that turn you on, sweetheart? Having someone almost hear me fucking you... could have seen my fucking you? Making them know that I'm yours and you're only mine?"

"Fuck, Jayce! Yes," you wiggle your hips meeting his thrusts, "just want to be yours." Jayce kisses you harshly feeling your thighs lock around him as you near your peak. "Gonna let me cum inside you?"

"Yes, please Jayce," you cry out. "Want to feel me coating your insides? Making you mine?"

"Mhmm!" you shake in his arms that wrap around your back, holding you upright as you feel him twitch within you, you gasp feeling your own orgasm rake over your body as you shudder against his chest, tears dripping down your cheeks as you mumble incoherently once feeling him fill you up with jagged thrusts, "s-such a good girl, so perfect for me," he stutters into a growl feeling as you clench down harder at the sound, effectively milking him dry.

You both lean against one another's hot and sticky skin. Jayce presses a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair away from your face as he checks you over quickly, your heart aches at how quickly he changes personalities before picking you up by the back of your thighs and carrying you into the shower, still connected. You hum once feeling the warm water coat your skin before feeling the cool tile against your back as Jayce steadies you, equally hissing while watching him pull out.

You feel your combined release drip from your hole and start to run down your thighs with the water. You gasp once feeling the rough pads of Jayce's fingers collect the mixture and stuff it back inside your sore opening as you grip his bicep and take deep breaths. "Can't waste it now," Jayce murmurs- you question if you can orgasm again from not being able to feel your legs... and then you suddenly remember all the papers you have to mark as post-orgasm clarity comes to the forefront of your thoughts. "May just need to fuck you again if you're still thinking about anything, relax, my love," Jayce, lovingly ridicules you, picking up your chin to press a gentle kiss to your puffy lips.

─────── · · ⭐️

You sigh- forcing your mind to numb as you watch Jayce lather and wash your skin before cleaning himself. You reach up and pull him forwards by his shoulders so that you can wash his hair, digging your nails into his scalp as he smiles contently, closing his eyes in pure bliss. You had never seen Jayce so utterly... relaxed. Your heart swells as you cares his jaw, running your thumb across his cheek, you didn't realize you said those words aloud before hearing Jayce's response, "only you could make me feel this and it is only you I would trust enough."

Your heart skips a beat, "I love you, Jayce."

"And I love you, Sweetheart, so incredibly much," you squeal once feeling his large hand hold the back of your head, pushing your lips together in a heated kiss. We're never getting out of here are we?

─────── · ·

─ · · Drying yourselves off you both helped each other to get dressed. Jayce's heart ached seeing that you had taken some of his clothes with you, "I found the smell comforting" you explain with a blush before throwing one of Jayce's shirts in his face. He quickly catches it before then and moves to press a kiss to the side of your head as you sort through what to wear for the day.

Sliding on your pants you fiddle around your drawers for a shirt, huffing frustratedly when you realize the shirt you wanted to wear was still drying. "How about that white one?" Jayce points while tucking in his shirt. You become distracted seeing his forearms on display as he reaches for his belt. Jayce tilts his head and looks at you, "You don't have to, sweetheart. Just thought it would go with your pants."

You grab the white shirt and blazer to go with it. Jayce places one of his cufflinks between his teeth, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he fiddles with the metal before moving to his other sleeve. He watches as you button up your shirt, confused as to why you still looked annoyed. "Can you turn around please?" you ask quietly, slipping your blazer on without even looking at him.

"Turn around? But we just... okay, are you doing alright, darling?" Jayce asks, you stare as he bends over and reaches for his own jacket on your bed watching all the material of his clothes perfectly contour his body. Jayce listens to you huff, "Stop it," you demand.

Jayce turns back around to find you choosing a pair of shoes before moving to sit in an armchair within the corner of your room, practically shaking. "Stop what?" he asks softly- not wanting to anger you further as he kneeling before you, placing your ankle on his knee before sliding your shoes onto your feet and lacing you in. He presses a kiss to your knee before picking up your other foot and doing the same.

You open and close your mouth annoyed by how good he looks while simply getting himself ready. The way he moves and flexes as if knowing you're watching. Jayce picks up your hands in between his own, rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs. "We can't get ready together again," you say before standing and picking up your jewellery from your nigh stand, hands shaking as you try and find the small clasp of your necklace behind your head before feeling Jayce's larger hands take the chain from your hands and clasp it together with ease before gently pulling your hair back into place.

"Why?" Jayce asks, hands rubbing up and down your sides as you both stand there silently and feel the suns warm kiss against your faces coming in between the blinds. "You're really distracting," you mumble underneath your breath before pulling away from his touch and heading outside the room. You listen as Jayce bursts out laughing- the sound of it echoing through the apartment before he takes a few large strides to meet back up with you at the front door.

─────── · ·

─ · · You take Jayce on a tour of the university campus, walking him around the greenhouse, pointing and explaining the various local fauna to him (yet also getting annoyed once noticing he was too busy staring at you instead of the flowers). "Jayce look! You can look at me whenever you want but not these," you try and explain. Jayce sighs looking at the flowers more closely, imagining how good they would look in your hair... fuck, I'm staring again, he thinks to himself.

You both are go un-noticing to the way a few of your students point and cover their mouths gasping and gossiping at the sight of your both together.

─ · · Next you take him into the library where you showed off your recently published studies with Evren. Jayce was so happy for you he nearly yelled while picking you up for a hug and giving you a little spin. His smile was intoxicating as he took the material off the shelf and started flipping through it.

You rested your head on his arm looking between his reaction and the pages as he pointed to the various diagrams you drew and the articles you collaborated on with utmost interest before gently placing it back on the shelf, squeezing your hand, "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart." You pulled him in for another hug, "thank you... it really means a lot."

"I'll say it a thousand more times since you deserve nothing but praise," you looked up, eyebrow raised as Jayce winked before pulling away, dragging your hand with him and back into the library's lobby where a small crowd had formed.

"Head Councillor! What brings you to the campus?" "Is it true that you slept with Councillor Medarda?" "When's the engagement?" "Can you let us know Piltovers plans for new trade?" "Do you still consider yourself, 'the man of progress'?" "Miss!" a hand reaches out to shake your own yet you quickly lace your fingers together and offer an anxious smile, taking a step slightly behind Jayce becoming worried as the crowd of journalists only seems to grow once discovering you.

Jayce looks down at you, trying to hold a smile while the lights flash in your face and various students begin yelling and complaining about the growing noise. Jayce shakes a few hands and waves away the questions with apparent ease yet you can see the way he grits his teeth, jaw tense as he constantly rings his fingers through his hair and grips your waist a bit too tightly, trying to lead you through the crowd and back to his hotel room so you both can get some work done today.

"Thank you all for your interest, but me and my partner here must get going-" Jayce begins to say, almost making it to the doors yet the question are a waterfall. "So you both are back together then?" "Why and when did the split happen?" "From partner to assistant, did you sleep your way to the top of society?" "Can we expect a wedding in the future?" "What about kids?" "Who is the heir to the House of Talis?" "Do you consider yourself distracted from your role?"

You start to feel sick, mind flashing back to all those sponsorship events you both used to attend. The seemingly never-ending curious eyes and hands- someone grabbed your elbow tugging you away from Jayce. You scream, threatening to fall back as a sea of reporters hold you upright... there are way to many hands touching me right now, your eyes go wide with panic as you begin to hyperventilate.

Fuck, where's Jayce? where is-, you blink through the masses trying to find Jayce, Evren, anyone you recognize before feeling your arm be tugged- firmly into a warm chest. Jayce shoves an on-coming reporter, taking deep breaths through his nose, eyes pointed and threatening as he opens the door for you and you both escape outside.

─ · · "Are you alright?" Jayce asks once you both are a distance away, "I'm sorry that happened. I had not considered that was the first time we had been publicly seen together since..." Jayce's voice trails off, his hand cupping the back of your head- eyes wide and glistening as he studies every micro-expression that crosses your features.

"I'm okay... just a bit... shaken-up after it all is all," you try and explain, reaching out to hold Jayce's hand hearing as he lets out a sigh of relief. "When you come back to Piltover, I'll make sure this doesn't happen."

"When I come to Piltover?" You raise a brow while holding a frown doing your best to hide the playful tease behind your eyes to appear pissed. Jayce opens and closes his mouth, removing the hand from your head to instead scratch at his neck, "I-uh, well, I was assuming, ass move of mine that-ah, you were coming back with me?"

You stare at him, tapping your foot with your arms crossed watching as he sweats, eyes frantic in panic before walking past him and in the direction of the hotel without another word with a smile. "Sweetheart(name)- please, I-I can stay here or visit, whatever works for you-" Jayce runs after you, hands extending yet pulling away quickly as he goes to touch you- unsure of how to not set you off further.

─────── · ·

─ · · When you get to the hotel doors, a staff member quickly ushers you both inside as you stand in the elevator, "what floor?" you ask in a cold tone as Jayce reaches over and hits number ten. You wait until the doors close before pulling Jayce by the lapels of his jacket and pressing a kiss close to his mouth before dropping your hold quickly and facing forwards.

Jayce stands there still leaning, shocked etched into every muscle as he blinks twice. "Where did that come from?" he whispers before standing up straight once hearing the doors chime open. You smile up at him innocently, adjusting the bag on your shoulder with nonchalance- waiting for him to unlock the door.

You watch as he fumbles for the key in his suit jacket before extending his arm through the doorway, allowing you to enter first before closing the door behind you both and taking your jacket to hang up in the entry way. You look around his organized room, picking up the random papers on his desk before falling onto his made bed and spreading out your arms with a sigh.

Jayce stands at the foot of the bed looking down at you in concern, "Jayce my love," you call out to him while observing his hopeful eyes. "Of course I'm coming back with you... I'd follow after you endlessly," you admit before feeling a dip in the bed as Jayce burrows his face into your stomach, you feel as he shakes his head, "can't believe you, toying with my poor heart," you hear him murmur.

"Would it also count as toying if I said I wanted my ring back?" you feel Jayce frees before pushing himself up and hovering above you. "Really?" he whispers, you can hear a younger Jayce in those words, see it in his bright eyes, feel it in the duvet as he rushes to unbutton his shirt and fish the chain out and over his head.

You sit up in the bed, leaning against the head board and presenting your hand not being able to contain the smile that spreads across your cheeks mirroring Jayce's grin as he slowly slides the band across your finger before leaning down to press a kiss against it.

You squeeze your hands together, closing your eyes to enjoy the moment as you hear laugh to himself in disbelief before hearing him choke into a sniffle. Your eyes flash open looking to see whats wrong watching as Jayce silently cries with a smile, gently shaking his head while staring at you with large hazel eyes that seemingly appear to be made out of gold from the sunlight flooding into the room. "Jayce," you softly call him name, feeling as your own eyes start to burn.

Jayce's eyes closes his eyes once hearing you say his name so sweetly, so full of love that his heart has his head falling to the bed as he grips your knees- posing as if to worship you. "Jayce?" you call out again, combing your fingers through his hair as he continues to quietly cry, "thank you," he says before picking up his head and trying to blink through the tears. You wipe your own away, reaching up to help him wipe them away as he does the same with choked chuckle.

"For what, darling?" you pose back.

"For loving me," Jayce moves his head to kiss your palm, taking a deep breath before continuing, "For allowing me back into your arms, for dealing with every ribbon and string that comes attached with me. For accepting me as enough even when I couldn't see it- can't see it-" You leap forwards and into Jayce's arms, sobbing into his shoulder and pressing a light kiss to his neck.

"Forever and always, Jayce. Until the end and whatever comes after that for us," you promise with a squeeze of your arms and another press of your lips to his skin feeling as Jayce nods, not being able to find the right words for the first time in his life in order to convey the utter relief he feels in this moment, feeling you in his arms, hearing your love in his ears, knowing that you both had finally gotten over the mountain and through every valley to come to this.

You both find yourself crying harder once feeling a cool breeze enter the room- bursting from a loose window and caressing your skin in a gentle embrace. Hello Viktor, you think to yourself, opening up your hand from Jayce's back, Thank you for returning him to me, you feel the cool air seep between your fingers before leaving like it never came.

"What do you think Viktor would think?" Jayce mumbles, playing with the seams on your shirt, you hum, starting at yourself through the mirror above the hotel desk. "I think he'd be happy for us," you respond, placing your hand back on Jayce's back, rubbing large circles with your palm feeling as he lets out a long breath, Thank you, Viktor, for allow me to see this, Jayce thinks to himself, Thank you.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: right in the feels am I right? AHHH 😭😭😭

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123 @peachhiz

[nlovesbjh]

꒰ 마크 ꒱ ── cherry beer 𖥔 synopsis. . . mark would've never guessed that he'd spend his free time on some college party making out with a pretty girl

𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑑 마크 ／ reader ៸៸ college au suggestive ⟡ ⌢ . making out drinking mark loves ass now is playing! . . cherry bomb by nct 127

𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝒩. im so obsessed with mark the past week guys this is getting out of hand so i had to write it. also not proofread and everything is happening super fast in this im sorry lol

mark wasn't used to be in a place like this, he wasn't a party typa guy at all to say at least, but there he was. he could spend friday night to study and maybe produce something for his next class, but his friends wanted him to go to that frat party so bad, they were annoying him for the whole week. now he was sitting on the couch, his ears hurting from the shitty music those frat guys were playing, couple that sat right next to him were touching each other and he almost spilled his drink on him. fucking perfect.

"hey, why are you here?" donghyuck comes to him from behind, wrapping a hand around his friends shoulder. why the fuck is he asking that, he was literally the one who drugged him there and then left to go get drunk with some girls that won't even look ar him for once. mark was annoyed. he could be in his room, watching new episode of his favorite show, but no. it was all donghyuck and jisung's fault.

"because you left me to get some pussy?" mark rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair when he stood up. he followed donghyuk even if he was mad at him, there was nothing else to do at that shitty party anyway.

"hold on a minute, you were the one who said you'd be somewhere in the house not wanting to talk to girls…"

"because they do not care about you or me. dude, you seriously think those girls, looking like they just came from 'mean girls' movie would care about you?" mark chuckles at his friend's naivety. that was just stupid of him thinking that they care. "have you seen how they were all over jeno? and now they're probably having a threesome or something.."

"gosh, why are you like that?"

"like what? not blind of someone's pretty facade that they built just to get rid of the nerds like us?" mark leaned back on the wall when they got outside, breathing deeply. fresh air helped him feel better, he wasn't feeling that bad now after he finally left that crowded room that smells like alcohol and sweat. nasty.

"you're too serious," donghyuck took a sip from his drink and waved him off before he walked away. mark saw jisung smoking at the backyard with some stoner guys from the campus he saw before a few times. obviously hyuck went there to get high like it would bring some fun into this event.

mark was staring at his phone, scrolling through his discord chat with other friends, seeing they were playing minecraft. he would play it too if he wasn't there. he couldn't leave this house without hyuck and jisung though, he wasn't a shitty friend after all. they were drunk and high and he didn't want anything to happen to them.

he didn't hear when the door opened and only when someone quite literally bumped into him and almost fell, he saw you. his phone almost slipped from his hand, but that didn't matter now. mark's hands quickly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place so you wouldn't fall on the ground. "yo, are you alright?"

"yeah, thanks." you nodded, looking up to see who saved you from falling. trying your best to get your hair out of your face, you saw mark. you knew him because you shared one class together when you both were on your freshman year, after that you were only looking at him from time to time at campus. or in cafeteria. or when he was ordering his coffee in the morning before classes at the same coffee shop you always went to. "im bad at drinking, had one fucking beer and can't stand straight already.."

"why did you drink then?" mark asked. his hands still were on your waist, holding you in place with a gentle grip. he looked at you, searching your face and eyes, something about you were super familiar but he couldn't quite understand what. like he saw you somewhere before. and you were pretty. mark's gaze dropped to your lips, lip gloss looked so shiny he was wondering how'd it taste and how'd your lips look all swollen and messy… what the hell? why was he thinking with his dick right now, that's not mark lee. something about you just brought this side of him out and he couldn't help it. so stupid.

"because this party is fucking boring!" you rolled your eyes as you heard mark's question. in all honesty you came to this party to have fun and relax after a stressful week of studies and maybe hookup with someone, but music was shitty, guys were ugly and your friends decided to get high for some reason and you weren't feeling like it. you drank one cherry flavored beer and since you're not good with alcohol, it was enough for you to go outside to get some fresh air before you could've done or said anything weird that you'd regret later. "aren't you bored, mark? that's why you're outside, yeah?"

"how do you know my name?" mark's eyes widened slightly, now he tried so hard to remember where he could possibly see you that you even know his name. you. hot girl in those fucking jeans that were hugging your ass perfectly and low cut top, he felt like he was in some teenage movie where a popular cheerleader girl allowed a nerd like him to touch her and there'd be happy ending where they ended up together or something. some stupid shit his cousin would probably watch.

"we had art class together a few years ago, you sat right infront of me and i couldn't see half of the desk because of your big head," you explained, standing straight and making sure your hair and outfit looked presentable. even though you weren't about to fall anymore, you didn't want to escape from mark's grip on your waist. you didn't want him to let go either, it also seemed like he forgot that he was touching you.

"oh! sorry dude, my bad.. um," he finally let go of your waist, making you pout slightly which he didn't notice. his hand comes to the back of his neck as he rubs it awkwardly. "how'd you still remember me?"

"can't say i didn't like that big head of yours covering the view, so i asked your friend… ugh, what's his name?" you genuinely couldn't remember the name of the guy that you asked for mark's name. he looked like he was about to cry back then when you came up to him. "the emo looking kid."

"jisung."

"i guess? whatever. i asked him for your name, poor boy looked like he was about to piss himself." you both chuckle.

"wait, you asked for my name? why?"

"you're cute," you shrugged, looking up at him. the distance between you two was small, you could smell the mix of perfume and alcohol coming from him, his hair looked soft and the only thing you wanted to do right now was run your hands through it while you kiss him, leaving him all breathless and shy. "the reason why i haven't talked to you since then is because i thought you were too busy studying.."

"too busy for what?" mark interrupted you, his cheeks now flashed slight red as he noticed your gaze on him. and when you called him cute.. he just had to believe you, there was no sign that you were lying or anything like that, he thought you'd never make fun of him too. just felt right.

"dating? fucking? not sure."

"you wanted to fuck me?!" mark was shocked, he almost yelled so you had to cover his mouth with your hand to shut him up so nobody would look at you two.

"shut up, idiot. gosh, why are you so pathetic, that's hot.." you truly didn't mean for the second sentence to come out of your mouth, but by the look in mark's eyes you could tell he was more shocked and confused now. you put your hand down, clearing your throat as you looked away. "still do, by the way."

"what?"

"still wanna fuck you, mark."

oh, he wasn't expecting that. what was he supposed to do? or say? maybe he just needs to shut up and stay there quietly and wait before you say something? there was a lot of thoughts in his head, gaze flicking from your face to your boobs. yeah, he was still thinking with his dick.

"wanna make out?"

"what?!"

"are you deaf or something?" you rolled your eyes at him once again, turning your head to look at him and wait for his answer. yeah, you liked mark. he was cute, awkward and oh damn you loved nerds and he was the hot one, obviously you wanted to make out because you were at this party for that at the first place. and you were a little drunk, so why not? "if you won't answer i'll just kiss you.."

"i want to," mark swallowed hard, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before looking down at you. "what do i do?"

"oh my god, mark! have you ever kissed a girl in your life?" one of your hands wrapped around his shoulder while other comes to the back of his neck to bring his face closer to yours. you couldn't wait, your mouth quickly covering his, tasting a strong taste of beer on his lips. mark closed his eyes, standing there and letting you do all the work. he didn't even know where to put his hands, honestly. he was afraid you wouldn't like him touching you even though you two were kissing. and he still couldn't remember your name. fuck.

you pulled away, taking a breath before smiling at him. your smile was so pretty, mark could've sworn he almost faint. "you can touch me, i can tell you want to touch my ass."

"are you s-serious?"

"cute." was the only thing you've said when you pulled him for another kiss. the hand on his shoulder slipped down his arm and you brought his hand to your ass, mark's eyes widened and he almost moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth slightly more so you could slide your tongue inside. the wet sound of your messy kiss was making mark's head spin, his other hand moving up to your waist as he pressed his back to the house's wall. the contrast between your hot body, warm lips against his and the coldness against his back was definitely doing something to him.

mark felt kinda bad though. he liked kissing you, liked knowing that you were attracted to him, who wouldn't be happy if they were him? you — pretty girl from his university, hot as fuck as we speak, were attracted to some nerd like him? what a fucking win. he loved touching your ass too, it just felt right. so soft comparing to the rough fabric of your jeans, fits perfectly in his hand. but he still couldn't remember your name. he didn't want to become one of those jerks who's fucking a cute girl without even knowing her name and then leaving. yeah, you two weren't even fucking, but kissing you was nice and he liked that cherry beer flavor on your tongue when you licked his lower lip. so fucking hot.

he couldn't believe a girl like you could possibly like someone like him and that was one of the reasons why he didn't want to let go without remembering who you were. he wanted to take on a date? yeah. date you? maybe. damn, he doesn't even know you, but for him that was literally the last thing that matters right now. your lips were soft, the way your hands run through his hair and pulled them slightly… oh shit. when he felt your lips on his neck, teeth rubbing his gentle skin slightly as you pressed more kisses down his neck, mark was gone. down bad. in that moment he was pretty sure he wanted you all to himself and that right now he was the luckiest man alive.

"what's your name?" he choked out between kisses you shared, eyes still closed and his hand still squeezing your ass. you chuckled, finding his behavior adorable.

"y/n."

taglist: @spacejip @peterm4rker

[stray-cat-with-internet-access]

TW: angst, abusive relationship (not with Simon), toxic relationship (that´s with Simon), bruises, he is kinda mean but can you blame him?, he is your ex, curse words, no proofread we die like real men, english is not my first language wc: 1168

1:54am

He opens the door at your fifth knock and his jaw clenches at seeing you.

You have a nasty handprint bruise on your neck and he is already fuming, at the bastard who did this, but also at you. Simon´s your ex, and something keep pulling you to him every time you need aid, but never taking him back completely.

This is not the first time you run to him and he is not happy about it.

He lets you in, but curses and slam the door behind him

Coming close he backs you up against the wall, forehead close to yours

"You have to be fuckin jokin´ with me..."

His voice trembles with anger, maybe not the best approach, but he is getting tired of keep collecting your pieces back together

You avoid his gaze, a bit ashamed. You lick your lips, with no urge to start talking. He is not dumb and he already imagined what happened. Tears run down your face and that seems to anger him more.

A bitter scowl etches on his face, he is mad for many of the wrong reasons, but he is trying damn hard to keep himself in check

"Is this some sort of sick game to play with me, hm?" He whispered, voice trembling with anger “You think I like seeing you like this?”

"No!" You respond quickly, finally meeting his gaze. You felt stupid because he is right to be angry. You´ll accept any scowl and curse coming from him because deep down you know you deserve them.

"Why else would you keep coming back every damn time only for you to go back to him? To test me and see how much I still care for you? Do you get off on doing this? Don´t I have enough shit in my life?"

There it is, the bitter words finally spilling out

"Simon please, I don't have anyone else, pleas…" You yelped when he punched the door, finally backing away from you, running his hands through his hair

"I left him...for good this time..."

He stops pacing and looks at you, he doesn´t believe you, that anger rising up inside of him, why was she still doing this and why he kept letting himself drag back into her? He feels stupid

"I've heard that before"

"I swear to god" You’re trembling at this point, desperate to get some gentleness.

You showed him the backpack you were carrying, talking in whispers

"I left him the flat, I grabbed what I could and left"

There is a pang on his chest, of guilt this time, the bruise around your neck is prominent and he can't help but to feel like this time is not the same as before. He wants to touch you, to make sure you are okay, but he doesn't trust himself not to hurt you unintentionally because of his anger

"Show me your neck" He finally says through gritted teeth, his tone of voice still stern

Tears start running freely now, but you cry in silence, ashamed. You pulled the hem of the neck of your t-shirt, showing the purplish marks over your throat and clavicle

He curses again before inspecting it more closely

His eyes darken at looking at the bruises, he knows exactly who is to blame and his blood boils with rage, he is going to kill him after dealing with you, he is sure of it. He touches the purple skin gently, barely a feather caress on it, checking them out

"Does it hurt?" His voice a soft whisper now

"Only when I swallow" Hugging your arms around your middle, you look around his flat, avoiding his gaze

He denies with his head, a million thoughts racing through his head. He is still sore for your break up a year and something ago, terribly bitter that you were able to left him for his "violent" line of work and the repercussions that it left on him, but not the bastard treated you like shit. Yes, he was damaged goods, but he´d never lay a finger on you

He has to stop himself from saying something stupid, he shouldn't be this close, feeling so many things at once

"Go have a shower... " he said, walking to the kitchen to pour himself a bourbon

Walking past him with your head low you make a beeline to the bathroom. You know his place very well, and the sting of the good memories here make you cry a bit more

After undressing you hop in the shower, letting the warm water wash away your tears. The smell of his soap envelopes you, making you feel more calm

Simon is a difficult man, the fact that he even let you in after you fucked up so many times says more about his feelings that anything

You reappear at the living room a while after, a dark blue towel covering you. You are pale with dark circles under your eyes, but it´s a better sight than before.

You noticed he got dressed with jeans too, and was smoking by the window when he hears you come back, he can't help it as his eyes travel over you, his own towel around you like you were his again. He has to bite his tongue, to stop himself from making promises and saying a million things he wanted to

"Did you eat?"

"I'm not hungry" You kneeled next to the sofa to grab some clothes from your backpack and he walks to grab a hoodie from the back of a chair, and you catch a glimpse of the hilt of a knife on his waist when he put it on over his head.

He looks immersed with himself, unapproachable

He turns his head to look at you again. Dove eyes, that beautiful face and that ugly bruise… God, he is so fuckin tired...

He put out the cigarette in the windowsill and put his gloves on, he does not trust himself right now, this is the reason why he needs to go and put distance between the two of you. Besides, there´s someone he needs to pay a visit…

"Go to sleep... " He said, voice strained

Getting up slowly, you approach him softly, placing your hand on his shoulder

"Why don't you..."

It's a mistake, because he shoves your hand away and strides towards the door, grabbing his mask from the hall table and putting it in his back pocket

"Go to the fuckin bedroom"

He slams the door on his way out, leaving you frozen in place, tears running down your face

-

You´ll find him the next morning, asleep on his couch. His nails are dirty and the hem of his hoodie is darkened with a reddish rusty stain. Next to the door are a couple of boxes with your all your stuff from the flat you shared with your now ex- boyfriend. Seems like Simon moved you into his own place last night.

Dividers are from @saradika-graphics Cosplayer: @mrghost.cos on TikTok

[jsbluu]

left on seen | chapter 28: mistletoe by justin bieber

➨ chapter 27: party time pt.2 | left on seen masterlist | next

➨ chapter 28 omg MERRY CHRISTMASSSS BABIESS and happy holidays to those who don’t celebrate christmas 😘 hope you guys like this chapter LOL.. 2114 words isn’t that crazy

TAGLIST: @yizhrt @bococostree @sunghoonsgfreal @dinonuguaegi @ddolbyong @4chensungs @vixensss @jirsungs @luffysprincess @nosungluv @akunoeyebrows @sinsgaybutthatsokay @joyzluvr @n0hyuck @mrsbyun-baek @queenrachelpink @botchedbrat @livingdoll-hara @minkyuncutie @gomdoleemyson @17ericas @cookydream @bitchzitschimi @luciavrseblog-com @minhosprettywife @hyukkstar @kyanmeai @shadysnoopy

the uber ride to sunghoon’s party was filled with light chatter (aka gaon yelling and disrupting the poor driver), but your mind was a million miles away. despite being with your friends, you couldn’t stop thinking about jisung. it had only been a few days since you spoke, but those days had made you spiral into a storm of overthinking. had you gone too far asking him to hangout at your apartment? its not like it was a date, especially after he invited mark along. maybe he sensed your intentions and invited mark to let you know he didn’t see you that way. the thought makes your stomach twist, but you try to shake it off as the party approaches.

“are you excited?” liz asks, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“yeah, i think” you reply, trying to sound enthusiastic, but there’s a slight hesitation in your voice. the idea of talking to jisung again had you on edge.

gaon’s beside you, clearly distracted by his own thoughts. you knew he’d been waiting for an excuse to see sunghoon, and this would be the perfect chance to do so. you smile at him, trying to distract yourself from your own anxiety.

“are you planning on talking to sunghoon tonight” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

he blushes a little, glancing out the window shyly like he wasn’t just talking about making out with him 10 minutes ago. “maybe. hes been kinda busy so i haven’t been able to see him recently. but who knows?”

you giggle, nudging him gently with your elbow, “good luck.”

meanwhile, ningning was busy with her phone, the bright light of the screen lighting up her entire face as she smiles. “i still can’t believe chenle asked me to go”

“you guys have been talking for weeks, i’m surprised it took him this long to make a move. i should’ve done it before him…” liz replies, eyeing ningning up and down. you raise your eyebrow at her, holding back laughter to keep the moment going.

“right..” she replies with, looking at liz with an unreadable expression. you giggle and shake your head, looking out the window at the passing christmas lights. its silly, really. you’ve never stayed on campus for christmas before, you always wanted to be with your family and do all the cheesy holiday traditions like usual, but not this year. something about it keeps you here.

as the car pulls up to the house, you notice the sound of music growing louder. the party is in full swing already, and a wave of excitement and dread wash over you at the same time.

“we’re here!” gaon exclaims, practically jumping out of the car.

ningning grabs her bag, throwing you a quick glance. “you okay? you seem kind of distracted.”

you give her a small smile, nodding, “im fine. just.. thinking.”

“about jisung?” gaon teases, catching on instantly, but you quickly shake your head, trying to dismiss it.

“no no, just.. you know, the party. a lot of people are here.”

he raises an eyebrow, patting you on the shoulder. “well i’m sure you’ll be fine. just try to relax and have fun, okay?”

you nod and shoot him a small smile, though it doesn’t feel as easy as it seems.

as soon as you head inside, you scan the area for any sign on jisung. you don’t see him immediately, but you can’t help like you’re waiting for something. as you make your way further into the apartment, you spot chenle and ningning already talking by the dinner table. he’s smiling at her in a way that makes your stomach do a weird flip, but you look away before they notice you staring.

“lets grab drinks first” liz suggests, grabbing your arm and heading towards the counter.

you enter the kitchen, making your way around all of the people standing in the way. gaon follows behind you, admiring the counters covered in various bottles, cans, and half empty solo cups. its noisy, people chatting and laughing around you, but it feels kind of nice. liz immediately grabs a can of soda and hands it to you.

“you’re overthinking again” she teases, nudging your shoulder. “seriously, stop worrying. he’ll either be here or he wont. either way we’ll have fun!”

you glance at her, grateful for her blunt but comforting words. “im trying, its just.. you know, everything is weird right now.”

she shrugs, popping the tab on her drink. “if he’s acting like that, that’s his problem, just have fun, and who knows, maybe you’ll find his replacement” he jokes, smirking at you.

you roll your eyes, a smile escaping your lips despite trying to hide it. “maybe i will” you say, trying to sound confident.

“exactly!” she laughs. “come on, lets go find gaon.”

you’re eventually dragged into a corner of the living room next to the christmas tree, a small break from the chaos of the party. you stand next to gaon, looking somewhat relaxed, he’s a lot quieter than usual. but that’s not surprising since sunghoon is here, and even though this is his party, you haven’t seen him yet.

you let your gaze wander around the room as your sip your drink, trying to let yourself calm down from the anxiety that had been building up for a while. just as you start to settle, something makes you pause.

jisung.

he’s standing near the punch table with mark and leehan, laughing about something. his hair is a little messier than usual, and he’s wearing a sparkly grey sweater, much different than what he usually wears. your heart skips a beat as you watch him. he’s standing there, looking so effortlessly attractive, and you find yourself staring for way too long. you quickly look away, feeling the heat creep up your neck as you avoid eye contact with your friends.

“i.. need some fresh air.” you announce, walking away before anybody could reply. you find yourself walking towards the balcony, and silently thank god that nobody is on there.

jisung watches as you exit the living room, closing the sliding door behind you. leehan follows his gaze and smirks to himself before speaking. “you gonna talk to her?” he asks, his voice low but teasing.

“huh?” he asks, tearing his eyes away from you. his heart speeds up and it’s clear through the tremble in his voice that he’s on the verge of panicking.

mark raises an eyebrow, his tone still teasing, “you’ve been watching her for like 5 minutes straight dude. she’s going outside.. seems like the perfect opportunity.”

his throat feels dry, and his thoughts start to race. he wasn’t exactly planning on talking to you tonight, but he can’t keep pretending like you don’t exist anymore.

“i—uh, no” jisung mutters, his fingers running through his hair showing how stressed he is, “i don’t know, i don’t even know what to say.”

leehan grins, clearly amused by the way jisung is borderline freaking out, “just say you’re afraid to talk to her.”

“i’m not afraid,” jisung responds quickly and sternly, though the slight edge of uncertainty in his voice betrays him. the weight of his words settle over him, and his instincts are telling him to go chase after you and just say something, anything. but he stays still in his place, still letting his thoughts consume him.

“whatever man, just don’t blame us when someone else talks to her.” mark shakes his head, clearly unconvinced by jisung’s words.

he swallows hard at the idea, a pit forming in his stomach at the thought of somebody showing interest in you. he hasn’t even come to terms with his feelings for you yet, so why does this bother him so much? it’s all too confusing for him and all he wants to do is hide in a hole and disappear forever. but he can’t. because he cares about you too much.

he knows you’re not gonna wait around forever for him to accept his feelings, you deserve better than that. but he can’t let anybody else do it before he can.

after a boost of confidence, his feet move before his mind can catch up, and before he even realizes it, he’s walking towards the balcony. each step feels heavier than the last, his palms starting to sweat as he approaches the door.

you’re standing against the railing, the cool december air hitting your face as you admire the christmas lights that are across campus. the way you stand, so quiet and alone, makes all the confidence jisung built up almost completely disappear. you looked so pretty, the lights shining against your face lit up all your features he liked so much, it almost made him forget how to speak.

“hey” he speaks up, his voice thick with uncertainty.

you turn around, immediately recognizing his voice behind you. your eyes widen when you see him, you never thought he’d be the first to reach out after so long. you stand and stare at him for a bit too long before replying. “hi..”

you raise an eyebrow in confusion, and he finally finds his words. “i just wanted to talk to you. to apologize, i should say. i’ve been kind of avoiding you, and i didn’t mean to make things weird.”

a small pause, and your gaze softens. “its okay, jisung. i didn’t really know what was going on either.”

he feels a small pang of guilt when he realizes the weight of his actions. he left you completely in the dark, and he can’t imagine the way you had been feeling the past few days. if he had been all over the place, he had no idea what it could’ve been like for you.

you meet his eyes, and for a second, neither of you say anything. there’s a strange tension in the air, like an invisible force pulling you two closer, but neither of you act on it, you’re just standing in front of each other awkwardly.

“yeah,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now. “i didn’t mean to ignore you. i guess i’ve been overthinking it.”

you smile at him softly, though it’s a little unsure, like you’re trying to figure it out together. “leehan says we have that in common.”

the comment catches him off guard, and for a moment, he just stares at you before letting out a small laugh. it felt awkward at first, but when you laugh too, the pressure subsides.

his eyes flicker away from you, looking upwards when he notices it. a small piece of mistletoe conveniently hung above you two. he freezes for a second, his breath catching in his throat.

you notice his pause and follow his gaze, looking up at whatever caught his attention “what is it?”

he hesitates, his lips twitching likes he’s fighting a smile. “..there’s mistletoe.” he says, pointing upwards with his finger.

you glance up, spotting the small plant above you two. your cheeks warm despite the chill, and when your eyes meet his again, there’s a flicker of something unspoken between you two.

he scratches the back of his neck, his confidence wavering for a moment. he takes a breath and steps closer to you. “maybe..” his voice lowers, quieter now, “maybe this will prove it.”

your breath hitches as his hand comes up to your shoulder, his warm hands sending sparks through your body.

“i-“ you start to say something, but the words get caught in your throat when he leans in.

the kiss is slow at first, his lips were soft and tentative, like he was trying to figure you out. its awkward, you shift slightly, making your noses bump, but when you pull back in a nervous giggle, he doesn’t seem bothered.

“sorry..” he mumbles, his face flushed. “that wasn’t..”

you shake your head quickly, a smile breaking through your nerves. “its okay, it wasn’t bad”

he tilts his head, his hands cupping your flushed cheeks. he softly rubs the skin under this thumb, smiling at you before speaking. “can i try that again?”

you nod and he leans in again with more confidence this time. the kiss is deeper, and more certain than the last. he knew you wanted, needed this as much as he did, and this was the only way to show it. his hands stay cradling your face, your hands wrapping around his torso gently and gripping the material of his sweater as a way of grounding yourself.

jisung’s thoughts are a blur, and yours are no better. but one thing is: neither of you want this moment to end. the way you respond to his kiss, leaning in like you trust him completely. the way he gently holds your face, like if he holds on any tighter you’ll break. everything about it feels right.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and he closes his eye for a moment. “that was..” he trails off, letting out a breathless laugh. “better?”

you nod, your voice barely a whisper, “better.”

for a moment, you two stay there, admiring each other’s faces like you’re the only two people in the world. inside, the party continues like before, but you’re way too occupied to care about that right now.

© jsbluu | please do not copy, reupload, or translate my work.

[jaeyong-sucker]

christmas gift

pairing: lee jeno x male reader

genre: smut and fluff (?)

warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, blowjobs, face fucking, anilingus, posssessiveness, breeding, voyeurism, vibrators, mirror sex, cum and saliva play

note: not proofread... i just wanted to write something for the christmas season... i'm still cringy in writing dialogues and fluff so please cut me some slack... please forgive the rusty writing... still, merry christmas and happy holidays!

For more than a decade, it has been a tradition for you and your neighbor's families to celebrate Christmas together. What started out as a simple gesture of gratitude to your neighbor for showing your family around town when you moved in years ago flourished into a deep bond that reaches its peak every Christmas. Thanks to your neighbor’s family, you were able to have someone who you spent your elementary and highschool days with. Someone who has witnessed you lose a tooth and have your first crush. He was also the first one to know about your first erection and nocturnal emissions as well as your identity as a gay person. Eyes formed into crescents and nose scrunched, he embraced you as he whispers back that he's gay. That was just the start of your freaky experiments and adventures from being each other's first kiss to jerking each other's dicks. Today wasn't any different, although maybe a bit freakier.

The moment you were done cleaning up the whole place (your families celebrated in Jeno's house and you decided to stay for the night), and probably done with Jeno playing with the vibrator stuck up in your ass throughout the WHOLE celebration, you quickly grabbed Jeno into his room, almost crushing your eardrums from the ear-splitting bang from closing the door. Jeno's smirk grew wider upon seeing your well put-up personality in the celebration earlier melt down into this messed up spirit, desperate to fulfill your carnal desires.

“Mmmhh, Jeno.”

“You were so unbothered a while ago. I'm impressed.” Jeno utters as he watches you hump yourself over his crotch. Leaning back as he is seated on the edge of his bed, he rolls his hips upwards, providing friction to your crotches, pulling long, delicious moans from your mouths.

“Shut up,” you scoff, landing a slap on his exposed chest. “If only there were no one else around, I would've fucked you already,” you talk back, slipping your dress shirt off as you lean back and admire Jeno's body. He looks so innocent and put-together as if he isn't the root of your desires to fuck with him on the spot. With the top of his dress shirt unbuttoned on purpose, almost half of his toned chest and the top of his upper abs are completely exposed. If you were an Omega you'd surely be washed over by a huge wave of heat and might be begging for Jeno to breed you and fill your hole with his pups.

While you were classy in the celebration, you were a fucked out mess in the bedroom to Jeno's delight. You're almost heated, sweaty, and nakedㅡyour lace panties left nothing to the imaginationㅡ while Jeno doesn't even look as troubled as you are. His hair still kempt and his ironed clothes are still on, prolonging the teasing from that stupid vibrator earlier in the occasion.

Jeno remains still, delightfully watching you rub your crotch against his with much desperation and want. His palms reach down to cup both globes of your ass cheeks before squeezing them in a painfully slow pace. Still unsatisfied at how messed up you are already, he plays with your puckered hole with one finger, pressing against the vibrator poking your prostate, making you shudder sensitively at his salacious touches. In response, you slam your lips against his, sucking his lips and tongue before moving to his neck. You dig your teeth before sucking in that spot you know and love so, so well, pulling a chain of deep moans from Jeno. As you leave a mark, Jeno (who probably couldn't hold his unbothered persona) throws you to the bed before taking off his clothes in a heated fashion.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this, baby,” he utters in a low voice as he gets on his knees before moving closer to your face. He taps his erect, veiny, leaking cock on your lips with a knowing smirk on his face. Not needing a verbal command, you quickly took Jeno's cock inside your mouth before bobbing your head on it. Being an expert at sucking his cock, you knew all the ways to capture Jeno's bliss whenever you give him a blowjob. You knew how to take his huge cock down your throat while tonguing on every vein and nook that makes him want to bury his cock deeper into your throat.

“Fuck, good boy,” he moans gutturally, throwing his head back before reaching for your hair. He gives your hair a few strokes before rolling his hips, thrusting into your mouth. His praise churning butterflies in your stomach, you upped his pleasure by sucking on his tip and tonguing on the frenulum. The action immediately aroused Jeno as you feel his grip on your hair tighten, and his cock harden while beads of sweat form all over his body. Pushing it even further, you cups Jeno's balls with your hands and damn were they heavy. Jeno rarely touches himself since he only enjoys it when he's around you. Thank god his college schedule is so busy and you're surely up for a huge explosion of cum tonight.

Moaning louder and wilder (he pays no mind since his walls are soundproof), he pulls out before laying on his back. You quickly hoisted yourself on top of him with your ass on Jeno's face before returning to sucking his angry cock. He reaches for his phone to put the vibrator to a high setting before landing a kiss on your puckered rim. Immediately, the vibrations send zaps of pleasure all over your body. With the vibrator hitting your prostate deliciously, you tremble as you suck Jeno's cock more urgently, lapping on the forming beads of precum over his slit.

“J-Jeno, fuck it feels so good,” you squeal as Jeno plays with your rim as he takes the entirety of your dick inside his mouth. He expertly takes all of your cock that it reaches the back of his throat (he sucked you off far more than you gave him blowjobs), humming and moaning loudly around your already sensitive dick, causing you to moan sluttilly. His one hand stretches your hole while the other gave your hanging balls the sweetest massages. Jeno just sucks you so good that all you could do is moan and squeal at every action he does that you neglect his throbbing cock, which gets harder and wetter as you moan more for him.

“Feels good baby? Tell daddy how it feels, come on.” He lands a slap on your thick ass cheek before burying his face inside your ass. He languidly inserts his tongue before lapping on the sweetest nooks and crannies, while jerking off your dick. The vibrator gets set into its maximum, sending your mind into haywire.

“Fuck, it feels so good!” “You’re so good, daddy!” “Shit, daddy, I want more!”

Jeno's cock hardens and leaks angrily as you sluttilly moan out at his actions. He smirks as he eats you out harder and thrusts the vibrator into your prostate while jerking off your tip with his thumb circling on your leaking slit.

“Fuck, you taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in pleasure as he spits on your puckered hole. Drool covering his lips, he spanks your thick ass once again before eating you out harder like a starved animal. The pleasure from the vibrator sweetly hitting your prostate and Jeno eating you out while deliciously jerking your dick is so intense that all you do is moan and irresistibly thrust into his hand. The room already smells like sweat and you know you're barely halfway with Jeno.

“Shit, daddy, I'm cumming!” You squeal wantonly as you squirt uncontrollably over Jeno's torso. Smirking, Jeno jerks you off harder and faster, intensifying your release that you squirt out more fluids that soiled Jeno's sheets. “Daddy, it feels so good,” you tear up as you hump Jeno's abs, seeking for friction. Not even taking the time to recover, you face Jeno and straddle his lap before kissing him messily. Jeno immediately reciprocates, pulling you closer by the neck before kissing back lusciously. He sits up, wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you deeper, taking control with his tongue swirling with yours and your lips rhythmically moving, satisfying and fueling your lust at the same time. You wrap your legs around Jeno's waist while your hands find their way to his broad muscled shoulders and back. As if on cue, Jeno grinds his aching erection against yours. He moans as your cocks grind against each other, releasung spurts of sticky precum.

Moaning, Jeno smoothly moves from your lips to your neck before kissing and sucking on the sensitive region. He bites and leaves multiple marks that'll probably fade in a week or two. But you didn't mind. Everything Jeno does is just sinfully pleasing that you sqeual and tug on his hair as he thrusts the vibrator deeper and harder inside you while inserting four fingers to stretch out your needy hole. Jeno has fingered you and jerked you off for so long that you forgot when you last felt the sensation of his cock inside you. College is a bastard.

“J-Jeno, put it in please,” you whimper shakily against his lips. You pull him off from your neck as you look at him needily. “I want you to fuck me now, please,” you plead as you grind your ass against his hard cock. He doesn't say a word.

“Mmmhh,” he moans deeply, leaning back from the friction caused by your ass cheeks gratifyingly brushing against his huge length. He closes his eyes and moans, grinding his cock deliberately against your rim to tease you.

“Jeno, please,” you whimper, planting pecks on his lips and neck. “You want this, too, right, daddy?” He leans forward, sucking on your nipples while grinding harder on your ass. “Let’s fuck now, please, daddy.”

Daddy. The word that scratches Jeno's horny brain in the right places. The mention of the word made him pull out the vibrator before lifting your hips, hole just right above his head before generously lubing his cock. Gently, he helps you sink down his tall, thick length. Immediately, you place your hand on his shoulders for leverage. Damn it, the stretching earlier wasn't enough to take his humongous length.

“Take your time, baby,” he whispers before pecking your lips. “We’ll go according to your own pace,” he whispers again, before making out with you passionately with his hands gently guiding your hips. Moaning nonstop, you plant your lips on his before kissing ardently as you slowly take Jeno's whole cock. As you kiss, you roam your hands over Jeno's firm, sculpted chest, giving them tender squeezes before touching his chiseled six-pack abs and well-defined biceps. Jeno delightfully moans, already deep in pleasure as his whole cock gets buried inside your warmth. He wraps his arms around you, pulling away as he moans into your ear. He slightly rolls his hips, burying his cock deeper inside you, pulling a chain of blissed out moans from Jeno.

He pecks your lips oncd again before looking at your tenderly.

“I love you.” He confesses before pecking your lips once again.

“I love you, too.” You reply, tears welling in your eyes, with your chest filling with warmth.

Your lips meet once again, now tender and affectionate compared to your previous ones that were rushed and fiery. Jeno pulls you closer by your nape, moaning as he kisses you lovingly. You grind against each other, touching each other's bodies out of warmth and adoration, equally receiving warmth deeper than physical pleasures. You trace Jeno's muscles, tenderly memorizing every detail of muscle while he lovingly touches your thick thighs and love handlesㅡwhich you’re deeply insecure of.

Pulling away from the breathtaking kiss, you press your forehead to Jeno's before pecking his lips. “Make love to me,” you whisper against his lips to which he responds immediately by gently thrusting his hips up, his tip hitting your prostate perfectly. He holds you by your hips, doing all the work as he plants his feet on the bed to leverage his thrusts. Jeno thrusts at a moderate pace while kissing your neck lovingly.

“How does it feel, baby,” he asks tenderly as he pecks your lips.

“I love it, daddy,” you squeal, digging your nails into Jeno's shoulders. “I wanna be under you.”

Gently, Jeno lays you on your back before lubing his cock once again. He inserts his cock inside your needy hole before moderately pounding into you.

“You are so beautiful, baby,” Jeno shakily moans between thrusts. “God, I can't believe I have you,” he cups your face before pecking your lips. “You’re so fucking perfect, fuck,” he moans as he thrusts slightly faster and deeper in your warm walls. Jeno was already great in fucking you but his words just make you more aroused at the moment, with his loving, piercing gaze making you wetter with more precum leaking out of your dick.

“Feel good, baby,” he asks. “Because you make me feel so, so fucking good, love” he deeply groans before reaching your hand tightly gripping the sheets before lacing his fingers with yours.

“Y-Yes, Jeno, it feels so good!” You whimper, arching your back, reacting to Jeno thrusting his thick cock deeper inside you. “You always know how to make me feel good,” you moan loudly as you look at him with your blissed out expression. “Fuck me faster please! I wanna see ourselves in the mirror!” You squeal, clenching tightly around Jeno's hard length.

Louder moans erupted from Jeno's throat as he positions you on all fours facing the full length mirror in front of his bed. “Fuck, this is so hot, babe,” he moans as he taps his cock on your rim before entering. You both moan at the sweet penetration that Jeno pulls you up, close to his body that you feel his muscular torso and abs from behind. “I love you so much,” he moans as before making out with you lovingly, while gently grinding his cock against your prostate. You kiss back eagerly, grinding back, meeting his soft thrusts, eliciting blissed out moans from the both of you.

While making out, Jeno thrusts faster and harder, reaching deeper inside your tight hole. You both pull away, moaning shamelessly in bliss as waves of pleasure travels throughout your sensitive bodies. After leaving a hickey on your neck, Jeno instructs you to look into the mirror, to which you immediately comply.

“We look hot, don't we?” He asks, nibbling your ears while playing with your taut nipples. You moan sweetly, taking in the sinful yet pleasing moving image in the mirror, apart from Jeno's thrusts increasing in pace and intensity. You couldn't help but lick your lips and drool at the sight in front of you. You and Jeno, perfectly paired for each other. Just as you thought what you saw in the mirror got you heated enough, Jeno smirks before inserting fingers in your mouth while his other hand reaches for your leaking dick before giving it lascivious pumps.

“Fuck, baby, how could you be so tight?” Jeno grunts into your ears as he drills your hole deeper. “This feels so perfect, like we're having sex for the first time,” he moans, reaching a new depth manifested by a bulge in your stomach. The sight is just dirty. Jeno fucking you wildly from behind with his fingers in your mouth and his hand jerks off your dick. You looking like a completely whored up slut, jolting from Jeno's actions and pulling his hair from extreme arousal. Sweat drips from your temples to your torsos, basically coating your bodies.

“Daddy, I wanna ride you, please!” You squeal sluttilly, to which Jeno responds by sitting on the edge of the bed with his cock still inside you. “Wanna make you feel good,” you whimper as you prop yourself over Jeno while still facing the mirror. Planting your feet on the bed, you swiftly slide down all over Jeno's length, bouncing immediately over his cock. Loud, lascivious moans erupted from your throats, not caring if anyone could hear you.

“Daddy, you're so fucking big!” You squeal with your hole tightly clenched around Jeno's throbbing, leaking length. His huge dick just stretches you everytime he penetrates you. His cock just perfectly hits all the right nooks and crevices of your tight hole and you think you will never be used to Jeno's length. Fucking yourself into his huge cock always feels like your first time being penetrated by him. It's like him claiming your virginity in every fucking session you have.

“Daddy, you're so deep inside me! I can feel it in my stomach!” You both moan upon seeing your stomach being bulged by Jeno's huge cock in the mirror. Not able to keep his hands to himself, Jeno again jerks for your dick with one hand, while the other reaches for your neck, giving it a moderate squeeze as you ride him wildly.

“You’re so fucking beautiful riding my cock like this, baby,” he moans, jerking your sensitive dick faster. “You’re such a good boy, making his daddy feel so fucking good,” he utters, nibbling your earlobe before kissing your neck.

He meets your gaze in the mirror. “Who’s my good boy,” he seductively asks, thrusting his cock deeply once. Too caught up in pleasure, you sob in sweet bliss, bouncing harder and faster, impaling your hole, stabbing your prostate with Jeno's large cock, creating nasty sounds of your skins slapping that it echoes across the room with your ragged breathing and lascivious moans. You throw your head back, unable to bounce on his cock, prompting Jeno to lift you by your legs and thrusting upwards, abusing your prostate with his unforgiving thrusts.

“You are fucking mine, baby,” he growls, spanking your ass harshly, probably leaving a handprint. “You are only mine, bitch, yes?!” He grunts, pummeling into your hole deeper and faster than he has ever been. You could only moan from pleasure and hold on tightly on his shoulders. Jeno smirks at the sight of you moaning dumbly, uttering incoherent phrases brought by him fucking you deliciously.

He presses you to the wall before thrusting upwards relentlessly. In response, you wraps your legs tightly around his waist, securing his deep, animalistic thrusts. Growling, he buries his head to your neck before kissing, licking, biting, and adding a new set of marks from your neck to your shoulders and chest. He doesn't care if it'll fade or not. It's him marking his possession.

“Who’s your daddy,” he asks, gazing at you intensely. His gaze leaves you weak and melting from his actions. Too aroused to even speak, you close your eyes and throw your head back to let Jeno use you and fuck you relentlessly. Before you could even throw your head back, Jeno grabs you by the jaw, making you meet his now more intense gaze.

“I said, who's your fucking daddy?! Answer me, dumb bitch!” He growls, wrapping a hand around your neck.

“I-It’s you!” You manage to whimper. “You, Jeno! You are my daddy!” You were practically screaming, your squeals probably penetrating the soundproof wall or even heard by the other neighbors. You couldn't care less. Jeno just confessed his love to you and fucking you wildly like a beast.

“That’s right, dumb slut,” he scoffs, landing a soft slap on your cheek. “You belong to me as much as I belong to you, right? Put that in your fucking head.” He growls before throwing you back into the bed.

He hovers on top of you, putting your legs over his broad shoulders before returning to drilling your abused hole. You squeal shamelessly while he grunts louder, the volume of the sounds of bliss growing louder as you approach your climax.

“Are you cumming,” Jeno shakily asks, noticing your leaking dick twitching. His thrusts are not as fast and deep and hard. He grunts, his thrusts becoming inconsistent.

“Yea, cumming!” You squeal, trembling as your orgasm arrives, hitting you hard like a truck. Thick ribbons of cum spurted from your dick. Shuddering, you came messily between your bodies. Your cum coated your and Jeno's torso’s with some even reaching Jeno's face.

Jeno grunts harder and louder, moaning against your lips as he finally explodes his release inside your tight, warm walls. Trembling from his hard orgasm, he presses his lips against yours, making out with you messily with drool and cum all over your lips. He cums generously, flooding your hole with his hot, sticky cum. He moans and whines into the kiss, as he becomes sensitive with the continuous ejaculation of his cum that a lot of it even leaks out of your pink hole. He reaches for your hand and laces your fingers together as you sloppily make out while recovering from your tremendous orgasms. 

Once everything got stable, Jeno pulls away from the kiss, landing another peck on your lips before slowly pulling his sensitive cock out of your hole. He hisses, glans still sensitive from the earlier orgasm, as he jerks off the last contents of his balls. Jeno leans down, burying his head in your cum-filled ass before lapping at and slurping all of his hot cum and licking your hole clean before licking your release all over your body before leaning back towards you for another kiss. 

He moans as he plays with the mixed semen and mixes it with his saliva before transferring it to you in the kiss. He inserts his tongue in your mouth, ensuring you suck all the remnants of saliva and cum from him. Jeno pulls away, landing a peck on your lips and a kiss on your forehead before laying beside you. 

You pull his arm, laying his bicep down the bed before using it as a pillow. With his free arm, Jeno holds you close by the waist before he lays on his side. He plants a kiss on the back of your head, making a sound of contentment before locking his feet with yours. 

“How are you, baby?” He asks softly, caressing your body gently. 

“Happy,” you smile, “although a bit sore.” “But I am happy nonetheless.” You scoot closer, feeling more of Jeno's warmth, while watching the starry sky through his glass wall overlooking the neighborhood. 

“What I said earlier, I meant it, baby. I love you and I want to be your boyfriend.” He whispers sincerely. You turn around to face him and see an equally sincere expression on his face. 

“I meant what I said too, love. I was just waiting for you to say it first.” You answer back, landing a peck on his lips. “Actually, I have already known for a long time. I was just waiting for you to say it.” You kiss Jeno on the forehead, making him blush and flustered, a rare moment for Jeno. 

“I didn't know when to say it. I guess I said it the way I didn't expect.” He giggles, flustered. “But really, I love you so much, Y/N.” 

“I love you so, so much, too, Jeno.” You give him another forehead kiss, which he enjoys. 

“Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou,” he pulls you close, planting kisses all over your face. 

“There. Treat your boyfriend with kisses and cuddles after fucking him like a wild rabbit a while ago.” You utter, acting sassily. 

He pulls away, sighing and smiling in contentment. “What a perfect Christmas present. A boyfriend.”

He sits both of you up before straddling your waist. “I love you,” he smiles, eyes formed into crescents before leaning in for a short make out. 

“Actually, I have another wish for Christmas,” he whispers, eyes forming into that of a puppy’s, acting cute which he rarely does. 

“And what is it, handsome?” You grin, pretending you don't know of this secret of his. 

“I want you to top me,” he says with puppy eyes without a hint of shyness or reservation. “Please?” He asks, like a good boy. 

You land a spank on his firm buttocks. “Get on all fours now.” 

Like a happy puppy wagging his tail, he eagerly gets into said position, ready to obey your next command. 

Boy, this'll be a night for the both of you. 

It'll also be a night for Jeno's gym buddy, named Jaemin,  living across the street, who just came from watching you from his window. 

[xoxochb]

hey will you please write some cute fluffy aftercare with percy ?

yes nonnie anything for u my love

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you wish it was humanly possible to dissolve into the sheets and sleep there forever. your eyes flutter gently closed, allowing yourself to take the moment in from touch alone. this was, until the silence broke.

“ya doin’ alright, sweet girl?”

you feel a rush of heat in your aching core at the nickname. you know he’s well aware of this. “gods— don’t talk…”

you turn onto your side, taking the sheets along with you to cover your bare skin from the coldness of the cabin, nuzzling your face into percy’s shoulder.

“I hate you,” you murmur. but he only laughs.

and shrugs, pushing your face off his shoulder, you whine and drop your head onto the pillow. “sure. but two minutes ago—”

“I’d pay you all the money in the world not to finish that sentence.”

percy smirks, nonetheless, makes a zipper motion over his mouth. you roll your eyes and sit up, shaking your head lightly to hopefully put your hair back into its place.

“where’re ya goin’, sweet girl?” he outstretches his hand and grabs your arm, pulling you to lay back down on his chest, kissing your forehead.

“shower. care to join?”

“is the sky blue? is grass green?”

you grimace. “what did I tell you about saying corny shit like that?”

percy pouts and releases you from his hold. you sit up again and scan the room for his discarded shirt before standing up from the bed. percy watches your every move attentively.

you ignore this though, and grab his shirt, sliding it over your head. you enter the bathroom and turn the shower knob to the left, heading towards the mirror to examine the plethora of marks left over your skin.

“perseus,” you call out. “I loathe you.”

you hear a laugh and the rustling of sheets. you roll your eyes and discard of his shirt for a second time this night, stepping into the shower. soon after, following you, percy arrives.

“hey, sweet girl, long time no see, huh?”

“you’re so fuckin’ weird.”

“yet you still let me—”

you cover his mouth with your hand and give him a warning look. “you’re proving my point.” he fake bites your hand. you pull it away. “don’t expect a second round if you act like that.”

“that was a possibility? my mouth is permanently zipped shut.”

“offer’s off the table already!”

[ilysungho]

hiii could u do 20, & 70 with sungho?

a/n: tbh i thought of making a text post sorta thing but i'm going to have to play with it to really understand how to do it well, so phonecall it is! this is SUPER indulgent… so sorry (not sorry) about that 😅 and also, merry christmas to everyone who celebrates! <3 wc: 1.5k contains: dom?sungho x sub?reader, reader implied to have medium or bigger sized tits, voyeurism, marking, masturbation, phone sex, established relationship (bf/gf), use of nicknames, lowercase intended, prompts italicized

sungho lay his head on his crossed arms, with tired eyes looking sad. his phone sat upright on the desk of the dimly lit hotel room, talking to you in a soft voice.

“i miss you… i wanna be back home in your arms already.”

“i know baby i miss you too, but on the bright side there are only a couple days left of tour! you’ll be back in no time!”

a small smile formed on his lips at your enthusiasm, grateful to have such an understanding partner. tour had been going well but drained him physically and mentally. not to mention, it’d been months since he’d seen you. since he’d touched you. the expression got replaced by a pout now as he remembered the last kiss the two of you shared before he left for the airport.

“what happened my love? what’s making you sad now?” his ears perked at your concerned tone, mentally cursing himself for not being better at hiding his emotions. he didn’t want to worry you after all.

“nothing, i told you already. i miss you... do you miss me too?”

“of course i do silly, i’m always missing you.”

“well, what do you do when you miss me?”

“you know… look at your pictures, listen to your voice, watch videos of you. there’s plenty of those after all.” you giggled as you recall the latest reel that got posted on the group’s instagram, him babbling on about how good the food was backstage.

“i know, but is there anything else you do? i wanna know everything please.” the same pout returned on his lips, not satisfied with the answer you had given him.

“well i mean…" you started off, feeling nervous to say the truth, "i just… you know… actually no, nothing! just those!”

sungho sat up straight on the chair, leaning back and furrowing his eyebrows. the change in your vocal tone caught his attention, genuinely curious now to know what you’re so embarrassed about. “you started talking so finish the sentence love.”

your hands came up to your face on instinct, covering you as you whispered, “i just… touch myself…”

“i can’t hear you princess, can you speak up?” he smiled seeing your state, teasing you now despite having heard what you said. he silently thanked his luck for letting him win the single room for this tour stop.

you raised your voice a little, just enough to let him hear you through the blockade you put up. “i said that i t-touch... myself… while thinking about you…”

“so… you touch yourself to the thought of me…? i’d… like to see that in action, love.”

“n-now?!”

he raised his eyebrows and nodded, as if he was questioning why you didn’t immediately do as he said. you got flustered by his request but composed yourself before setting down your phone against your bed’s headboard and sitting a bit far so he could see your full body.

truth be told, the anticipation already turned on the both of you. the atmosphere changed in the two rooms as you bit your lips, your boyfriend copying the motion. he stared at you intently, not wanting to miss any moment.

you touched your body slowly, intentionally pressing harder so sungho could see your curves through your clothes. you imagined his soft yet strong hands doing so as you reached the hem of your shirt. well, the hem of his shirt.

his eyes never left the screen, not daring to blink as you lifted the top off of your body to reveal your lacy bra he gifted you on your anniversary. he made sure to spoil you whenever he got the chance, and the memories of your anniversary night flooded in through both your minds.

“you’re so beautiful…” blushing at his comment, your hands rubbed the sides of your waist, inching upwards to your chest. sungho’s breathing got heavy as you reached your back, unhooking and removing the pretty cloth. he bit his lower lip, letting out a soft moan seeing you half stripped. despite being so far from each other, you still had that effect on him, making you feel proud of yourself.

“how do you imagine me touching you love?” his question made you smile as one of your fingers reached for your mouth. coating it with saliva, you hissed as you put it in contact with your perky nipples. he licked his lips at the sight, imagining sucking your tits.

your hands played with your boobs, letting out soft moans and closing your eyes to imagine your hands as your boyfriend’s instead. you flicked and pinched them, just how his tongue and fingers would. your mouth reached down to suck on the skin, your hands helping you hold the flesh.

“fuck you’re so good for me…” sungho’s mouth parted as he watched you mark yourself. he never imagined you doing that to yourself but now he couldn’t get enough of it. you littered your chest with mutiple marks, grinding on the mattress below you during the last couple.

the whole time, sungho’s boner grew until it got uncomfortable to sit with his pants covering it. he moved the chair backwards, putting himself into view as he palmed his bulge. you opened your eyes to look at his changed position, moans escaping as you watched him.

“i wish i was with you… i wanna help you.” he nodded his head, agreeing with you. he too wanted to be there with you. to touch you. to kiss you. to love you.

you bit your lips as you teased him now. your thighs parted to show him where he could’ve been right now, and he groaned knowing exactly what you thought of. words didn’t matter anymore when every movement was able to communicate what the other feels and insists.

as if on cue, both of you removed your bottoms. he did so just enough to where his cock sprung out whole, while you removed everything to bare yourself naked to him. he threw his head back after seeing you, in awe of your beautiful body. sungho really was so lucky you were his…

he brought his head back, mumbling a “show me babe.” his hand wrapped around his dick while you rubbed your folds. both your hands got covered with precum, with both wishing it was the others’ instead. sungho pumped his cock at the same time as you circled your clit, both eliciting out sounds of pleasure for the other to hear.

no matter how good it felt, you kept your eyes open to watch sungho just as he had been doing. you watched how he stroked up and down his shaft, his thumb teasing the slit on his tip while he chanted your name. you grinded against your fingers, imagining rubbing yourself against your boyfriend length.

as lewd sounds escaped from the speakers, so did words of pleasure. sungho watched your fingers prodding at your hole, keeping his hand wrapped around his dick and staying still. “go on baby, finger yourself.”

“mm no i want you to fuck me.”

a grunt came from his throat as he watched you do as he said, in return thrusting into his fist to imitate him pounding into your pussy. if you were with him right now, he knows he would’ve been able to thrust up until your cervix. just the thought was enough to make him cum really.

he abused his cock, imagining it as your cunt as you twisted your fingers inside your hole, inching closer to your phone to show him your dripping pussy. you moaned about how good it felt, telling him to fuck you harder, and faster, and deeper (despite only being to reach as far in as your fingers can). the squelching noises drove him insane, responding to you every time in a deep, husky voice.

both of you were so close, panting while holding on to your release despite starting to feel tired. you whined as you felt the knot in your core threaten to untie, giving a signal to your boyfriend that you were about to cum. he fastened his pace then, cumming while gripping tighter as he tried to control where it spilled. you came at the same time, spilling your slick onto the bed he would be in soon.

the both of you looked up to see each others' eyes, sungho’s squinting into a big smile.

as if on cue, woonhak's voice rang through the main door. “hyung we’re going to have dinner now, come!”

“shit babe… i’ll talk to you later, i love you, you did so well for me.” he kissed the camera before ending the facetime.

both of you cleaned up your respective messes, sungho rather quickly due to his presence being needed soon. but you took your time, taking pictures of yourself to send to your boyfriend.

my love 💙: i’ll be honest, i also get off to the thought of you. 8:04pm - Read

y/n: [4 attachments sent] then just call me next time 🤍 8:15pm - Read

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Can we have Azul being very excited to see his parents again with random dorm members questioning if thats the same Azul that's their dorm leader?

Octavinelle A-kun? Octavinelle A-kun. (Context: Octa A/Kon is my Octavinelle mob student OC asdblasdiabis)

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

Azul had reserved a slot of time early in the afternoon--before the Mostro Lounge's usual hours of operation--for his parents.

As soon as he swung open the doors, his painstaking efforts were made apparent. Every corner of the eatery had been scrubbed, buffed, dusted, mopped, and vacuumed to perfection. Their best china was out, a vase of freshly cut flowers and romantic candlelight marking the table he had saved. The live band he had hired (no expense spared) welcomed the Ashengrotto family with a soft, jazzy melody.

The music came with a chorus of clapping. Several Octavinelle students stood in lines, giving applause to the VIPs.

Azul ushered his parents inside. "Please, come in, come in! Right this way, esteemed sir and madam," he crooned, gesturing for them to follow him.

They settled into their seats and were immediately provided with menus and tall glasses of water, the ice so clear and free of impurities that one could see right through them. Octa A--Kon--their server, hastily pulled his hand back after delivering the items and bowed. How smoothly everything ran, like an orchestra with a skilled conductor.

"So this is what you've been up to at school," Mr. Ashengrotto murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I must say, it's impressive. Not every 17-year old would be capable of overseeing an entire cafe on top of studying and juggling the responsibilities of a dorm leader--well, perhaps your mother would."

"You really do take after me," Mrs. Ashengrotto laughed, "in more ways than I suspected you did."

"Fufufu. Yes, well... I did learn from the best." Azul straightened, lifting his chin proudly. "As it so happens, I also run a little... side business, shall we say. My peers come to me with their owes, and I do what I can to help alleviate those."

"If only your grandmother could have joined us... I'm sure she would be pleased to hear of your charity work. Perhaps we could pay her a visit on your next trip home."

His stepfather raised his brows. "Seems I've married into a multitalented family."

"Please do not talk down your own abilities. You're quite skilled in your own right, dear stepfather!" Azul wrung his hands together. "Why, I can only hope to match your legal prowess one day!"

“Haha, you’re a sweet talker too. Alright, I’ll take your professional advice. No more talk of business though—let’s decide what to eat.”

“Fufufu, as you wish.”

Kon warily kept his distance, a step or two farther from the table than he usually would. Staring, listening--it was strange, he decided. Never had he heard his dorm leader speaking with such sincerity, with kindness that wasn't laced with hidden ill intent.

Is this... Azul-senpai? He seems a little different around his family. Softer... squisher somehow.

"Pick anything you like off the menu. I'm confident that you will enjoy our dishes, made fresh every day with the best sourced, in-season ingredients possible.” Azul pushed up his glasses with one hand. “If you care for a recommendation, the fried chicken is sublime. It took us a while experimenting with spices to achieve its flavor and texture, but I believe those efforts paid off wonderfully."

“Fried chicken, your old favorite! You hardly touch it anymore.”

“M-Mama…! Er, I mean mother,” Azul quickly corrected himself. “That was back then! Now I am making a conscious effort to mind my health. I ask that you respect that."

“Alright, alright. Point taken.” Mrs. Ashengrotto tapped a finger on her menu. “I’ll take the fried chicken platter appetizer, for old time’s sake. We can split it so you can treat yourself too, dear."

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly..."

"One bite can't hurt," his stepfather urged. "Here, let's get a salad as well to balance it out."

"Th-That is not how nutritional intake works at all..." Azul sighed, a hand to his head. There was a pause, then he flagged Kon over. "... You heard them, correct? One fried chicken platter and the garden salad appetizers to start."

"We'll get those out for you right away," he said robotically. A line, rehearsed. "Take however long you need to decide your mains."

The mob student turned to scurry away and pass along the order to the kitchen. A voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

“And Kon-san?”

He looked back.

His dorm leader had his legs crossed, looking very authoritative as he sat up straight in his booth. He, the lackey, trembling before the boss.

“Y-Yes, sir?” Kon squeaked.

Azul simply smiled. "Thank you for your service."

The breath he had been unconsciously holding slipped out as a sigh. And he tried to smile back.

"Anytime, dorm leader.”

[honestlymassivetrash]

Fic idea!! If its been done pls tell me, but I'm pretty sure it hasn't, as always, free to a good home!

Tattoo shop owner Price: who, after one last extremely rough mission saw the exhaustion in his boys and helped them all get medically discharged. Who found an empty shop in a quiet town and saw the potential in both the shop and his boys, who runs himself ragged doing the paperwork and reception work for the shop.

Piercer Gaz: Who used to pierce in high school, in the bathrooms for the goths, the girlies and the gays. Who actually studied up on it quite a bit over the years (its a hyperfixation), Who has lots of hidden piercings that he somehow never got busted for during his military career. Everyone who saw them was too distracted by how hot he is naked to report his piercings.

Tattoo artist /biggest customer Ghost: Who got his first (shitty) tattoo at 15 and was instantly obsessed. Who uses the controlled pain as a coping mechanism for his trauma and PTSD. Who also just genuinely enjoys covering his body in Soaps art (definitely not because he sees the parts of his body with soaps artwork on it as more valuable than the rest of it.)

Tattoo artist Soap: Who is always drawing something, who can't help but see the beauty in everything and everyone, who is obsessed with finding the right style and placement to fit each person's body and soul. Who likes leaving his art on people as a way to prove that he exists, that he is here and he has changed these people in some way, that he has mattered. (Who is absolutely not obsessed with his art being the majority of marks on Ghosts and Oc's bodies, who absolutely does not see it as a mark of ownership, what are you talking about, he just thinks they're both his its bonnie!)

Receptionist-2nd biggest customer Oc: Who's just a pretty little thing that came in one day for shelter from a storm, Who asked so many questions in that soft voice, Who seemed so pleasantly surprised when Soap ("call me Johnny, please Lovey") offered to do her first tattoo as a way to pass the time waiting for the storm to end, Who mentioned a mean boss off-handedly, Who left with a new tattoo, piercing, and job. Who ends up turning into a tattoo fiend, (price and gaz have threatened Johnny that they'll fire her if he doesn't give her flesh time to heal before the next tattoo, they tried to fire him about it but he just kept coming back. She ends up in Ghosts chair anyway with his needle carving into her skin, and nobody is going to tell Ghost he can't tattoo her, well they can but he won't listen) Who gets absorbed into their lives and home and pollycule

[bring-forth-his-sac]

The Christmas Party - Finale!

summary: the Christmas Party is finally here! … and you and Negan are not on good terms

tags: Modern AU, Teacher AU, Gossip, Swearing, Pet Names, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Flirting, Kissing

word count: 7.1k

A/N: this is the final chapter! thank you to everyone who's read this and left comments!! For some reason, I always hesitated doing multi-chapter fics because I didn't think my writing was good enough to keep people captivated for more than one chapter but this has given me a serious confidence boost! and that's thank to all of you!

Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy!!!

Negan doesn’t know if you can be pussy whipped when you’re not getting any pussy, but damn that’s exactly how he feels with you.

He’s always been a fan of temporary pleasures, quick fixes for the emptiness that gnawed at him. He wasn’t interested in long term or relationship—at least, not in the way most people understood it. Love was something people with hope clung to. 

And Negan? He had lost hope a long time ago.

He’s had women, plenty of them, but none of them have ever meant more to him than a night of fleeting connection. Negan never made a fool of himself ice skating for some pussy, nor has he ever wined and dined them.

And he would say he still hasn’t, mainly because that would mean referring to you as just another piece of pussy. And no matter how hypocritical it may be, he doesn’t like that.

He doesn’t know how you do it, how you can penetrate the walls he’s spent years putting up. You’ve never been impressed by his bravado or his flirting. 

No, instead you’re the sweet type. You like the little moments, the playfulness, the cheeky texts neither of you should be sending during work hours.

Negan’s known it for a while now. He doesn’t want you like the others. He doesn’t want a night away or a quick fix. He wants the ice skating, the banter throughout the work day, the hot chocolates and dinner dates. 

Fuck, all you’ve given him is a kiss and Negan’s smitten. 

Waking up the morning after your sweet kiss, you’re the first thing that pops into Negan’s head. More specifically, it’s you in his truck, his leather jacket over your shoulders and eyes crinkling at the corners as you laugh at some dumbass joke he made. 

He woke up alone, having gone home the night before and spent an hour on the phone to Mark Smith. 

Negan couldn’t believe he actually sat on his couch and willingly listened to his colleague talk about some upcoming market by where he’s staying in Jamaica. Negan even asked Mark how his wife and kids were doing– voluntarily!!

He didn’t recognize himself anymore. The pain, while still there, isn’t as strong. Negan can’t find the strength to harness that resentment he had at the world and himself. 

Because how could he hate himself when he’s had your sweet lips on his not even 24 hours earlier?

But his Thursday goes downhill from the get go. Negan has a pep in his step as he leaves his house, quickly locking the door behind him before heading for his truck. A part of him hopes the smell of your perfume will still be lingering in there.

Aaaand that’s the start of a very bad day. Negan never gets to his truck, instead stopping a few feet away when he sees someone else parked behind him. 

His lips twist downward in a slight sneer. It’s the kind of look that says, “I don’t like you, and I’m not hiding it” without needing to say it aloud.

Sherry has her car parked directly behind Negan, purposefully blocking him in. She stands outside, her arms crossed as she tries to keep warm. 

“Hi…” she says plainly, trying to ease into this. 

When he speaks, it’s deliberate. His voice is dry, almost bored, but the weight of his words hangs heavy. "This is private property, ya can’t park there" Negan’s tone is laced with the kind of casual authority he’s so used to. 

It’s not a request. It’s not even a command. It’s a fact, something he’s not even sure needs to be said, but he does anyway because she’s standing there like this is some kind of game. 

Starting for his truck again, he only stops when she says his name.

Sherry huffs, rolling her eyes. Of course he won’t make this easy. “Negan,” her tone is firmer now “I want to cash in that I-owe-you. Now”.

His hand rests on the truck door but he doesn’t make a move to open it yet. Instead, he turns his body slightly, pivoting so he’s facing her fully now. Negan’s posture tightens, shoulders squared. 

“And you think that means you show up to my home at…” he makes a point of bringing his wrist up to read his watch “seven forty five in the damn morning?”.

“I said whenever and wherever,” she shrugs “and I remembered where you lived, so…”. 

Now it’s Negan who rolls his eyes. Because, yes, out of everything, he needs a reminder that he brought her home once upon a time ago. 

Seeing his little cooperation is shrinking, Sherry cuts to the chase “You have a motorbike, right?”.

“Used to” he corrects her vaguely. Medical bills are a hell of a hit to the balls… and bank account.

“Ok, good,” opening the passenger door to her car, Sherry begins to walk back over to the driver's side “well, get in”.

Negan doesn’t move. “This is kidnapping” he states.

Sherry tries not to lose her patience, nibbling on her bottom lip so she doesn’t let out a string of curses. “No, it’s the favor you owe me,” she corrects “and it’s for Christmas, so c’mon”.

Despite every fiber in his being telling him not to, Negan takes a step closer. “Unless you’re gonna drop me off at the school, we’re gonna be late” be points out.

With the wave of her hand, Sherry dismisses him and gets in. “It’ll be fast” is all she says to assure him.

Glancing back to his truck one last time, Negan sighs before reluctantly getting into Sherry’s car.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

By the time Negan gets to work, he’s pissed off, late and hungry. You’d think as the head cook of the cafeteria, Sherry would’ve had some snacks hidden away in her car but nope, Negan had to starve.

Negan tries to stay positive. He reminds himself that once he knocked out a few more classes, he would have time to do something he’d been looking forward to—setting up the Christmas tree with you. 

But as the day drags on and the hours tick by, his phone remains suspiciously quiet. He sent you a few texts, nothing crazy, just simple check-ins asking when you’d be free to hang out later. 

A casual message, nothing too pushy. But now, after getting through some classes, it has been hours and there still isn’t a reply.

At first, he figures you’d just busy, maybe caught up in teaching or managing your unruly students. He knows you have a lot on your plate and he didn’t want to be that guy who expecta instant responses. 

It’s fine. He’s patient. You’d get back to him when you have the chance.

But as lunch rolls around and there’s still nothing, he can’t shake the nagging feeling that something isn’t right. It’s subtle at first, just a flicker of unease, but it grows with every passing minute. 

He finds himself glancing at his phone more often, tapping his fingers against the desk, trying to focus on his work but getting distracted.

Something is off.

Negan gives the little pumpkin statue on his desk a quick rub, as if the small gesture might bring him some kind of luck. 

He doesn’t know why he’s so worked up. It’s not like he’s a clingy guy. But the silence between you two today? It’s not like you and it’s starting to eat at him.

First stop is the teacher’s lounge. Empty. He checks your classroom next— locked. No sign of you. Then, he heads to the sports hall, hoping you might be there, finishing something up. No luck.

Hell, he even hangs around the women’s toilets for a minute. It’s stupid, he knows, but he figures if you’re dealing with that time of the month, you might need a minute. 

He leans against the wall, trying not to look too out of place, but when Sasha passes by with a raised brow, he realizes how ridiculous he looks.

“Shit,” he mutters, pushing away from the wall.

He’s not the clingy type. He knows that. But by the time lunch comes to an end, he’s sent you a decent amount of texts. 

Negan: you ready for the tree?

Negan: it’s in the hall

Negan: u ok?

Negan: is this hide and seek? Where are you?

Negan: hellllllllooooooooooo? My messages are going through so I know you don’t have me blocked

More classes pass and Negan’s patience wears thinner with every passing minute. He yells at a group of rowdy students, his voice echoing through the sports hall as he orders them to watch out for the cheerfully decorated tables as they do their jumping jacks. 

He checks his watch, the second hand ticking a little too loudly for his liking. It’s almost the end of the school day and Negan can feel the weight of his frustration pressing down on him. 

He hasn’t heard a damn thing from you, not a single text, not even a “Hey, I’m busy.” Nothing.

And the silence? It’s driving him nuts.

By the time he’s checking the teacher’s lounge again, he’s about ready to give up… but then it happens. Just as he’s walking by Ms. Peletier’s classroom, the door clicks open.

You step out.

It’s like a moment of clarity hits him and for a second, all his frustration melts away. There you are— looking like you’re trying to escape something. 

You’re not your usual self. There’s something different about you today, something… timid. You’re not holding eye contact, your shoulders are a little hunched like you’re trying to make yourself smaller.

“Holy fucking shit,” Negan says, his voice full of relief “I was about to send out a search party, where the fuck have you been, doll?”

He expects a smile, some kind of warmth in your eyes. But instead, you tense. For a heartbeat, your body locks up, like you didn’t expect to see him. 

He watches, confused, as you quickly gather yourself. For a second, he thinks you might be walking toward him, like you’re about to talk, to explain yourself.

But then, just before he can take a step forward, you say it.

“Fuck off”.

Negan’s a man that likes to curse. He likes to throw in a few fucks, pricks, shit balls, whatever he feels in the moment. 

But this is different. 

The curse slices through the air, harsh and bitter. The venom in each syllable sticks in his chest like a jagged piece of glass. 

Negan’s stomach drops. He watches you walk past him, not even sparing him a glance and strut down the corridor without breaking stride.

For a moment, he’s frozen. The anger, the confusion— it all hits him at once. He isn’t the kind of man who gets easily thrown off, but right now? Damn right he feels uneasy.

“Woah, sweetheart, what’s that for?” Negan calls after you, confusion and hurt twisting his words. 

He takes a step forward, instinctively wanting to follow you but before he can move another inch, a voice calls his name.

“Negan.”

He turns, annoyed, ready to snap at whoever’s interrupting him but when he sees Carol standing in the doorway of her classroom, he stops dead.

“Let her go,” she says, her tone calm, but firm.

His brow furrows. What the hell is this?

“What?” He takes a few strides toward her, his voice rising. 

Carol raises a hand, palm out, silencing him before he can continue. “Let her go,” she repeats, her expression unreadable “She’s not interested”.

Negan’s chest tightens. Her words hit him like a punch to the gut but it’s the way she says them so matter-of-fact that makes him freeze in place. He opens his mouth, but the words don’t come. 

He looks at her, searching her face for some hint, some sign that this is a misunderstanding. But Carol doesn’t flinch. Instead, she just watches him, her eyes steady. 

“She’s not interested,” she repeats, softer this time, but still unyielding.

The truth stings. It settles over him like a weight, heavy and suffocating. The realization that everything he thought he knew about what was happening between you two—what he thought was real—might have only been a quick flash in the pan.

Negan stands there for a moment. The hallway around him feels too quiet, too empty. His chest tightens again and he can’t tell if it’s from anger or hurt or pure disbelief.

He looks back down the hall,  where you disappeared, then back at Carol. With a sharp exhale, Negan turns away, heading in the opposite direction without saying another word. 

What else is there to say?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Friday feels like damnation, and not just because of the party. You purposely come in earlier than usual, not wanting to run into Negan as you set up the last remaining decorations for the gym. Even Joey isn’t in yet.

You can still feel the rush of anger, the way it surged through you when you saw them together, Negan and Sherry. You wouldn’t say you’re a jealous person but to see them arriving together, after everything?!

After Sherry warned you away from him, the dates that weren’t dates you went on with Negan… the kiss. You wonder if you didn’t move fast enough for him and if he went straight to Sherry’s after dropping you home that night. 

You’re pissed—so fucking pissed—but more than that, you’re hurt. The way he acted around you was like you were something special. It was as if maybe, there was something more between you two, more than banter and attraction. 

But now? Now it feels like a fucking joke. He’s out there, probably flirting with whoever is next on his hit list while you’re here, stewing in your own mess of feelings and sticking wreaths on to tables.

You want to punch something just to feel like you’re doing something to get rid of this ache in your chest. 

Your mind races—did they sleep together? Was it just another one-night thing for him? Did it mean nothing? 

The thought of it gnaws at you, each question digging deeper. The betrayal, the feeling of being tossed aside, his voice when he called after you yesterday, the knowing look on Carol’s face when you told her what you had seen… It's too much. 

You wish you could cry but you’re too damn mad. So you keep working, head down, fighting the sting of tears that are just waiting to break through. 

The good news is the sports hall is finally done, besides the Christmas tree that was never put up. 

The high, vaulted ceilings are draped with thick strands of sparkling tinsel in gold and silver, catching the light from the overhead fluorescent bulbs and making the whole room shimmer.

Long rows of tables are now covered in bright red and green cloths, each one bordered with tinsel and a wreath hanging off the front. Paper snowflakes some of the students made dangle from the walls, swirling like an indoor blizzard.

Around the room, there are signs that read things like “Merry Christmas!” and “Season’s Greetings!” in big, bold letters and decorated with holly.

Even the basketball hoops are dressed up, with thick, red ribbons tied in bows around the rims, and a few oversized ornaments dangling from the netting. 

Everywhere you look, there’s something to bring a smile to your face— and yet that’s the one thing you can’t do. 

“Well, hello there,” you don’t tense when you hear the masculine voice. 

It doesn’t have that deep drawl Negan’s does. Nor does it make you want to shiver and purr at the same time.

“Hi, Joey” You don’t even glance at him as you say it, your eyes fixed on the twinkling lights that are tangled up in tinsel, casting a soft glow across the sports hall. 

“The place looks great!” he says, his voice a little too bright as he walks deeper into the room, clearly trying to make conversation.

“Uh-huh,” you reply, your voice flat and distracted “It’s basically done now. Just have to run home after school to grab the drinks, and it’ll be ready”.

You don’t want to engage much more than that. The last thing you need right now is small talk or having to deal with anyone else. 

“And the food?” Joey presses, his tone a little too chipper.

You force a tight-lipped smile, your jaw set as you turn toward him briefly. “Can you let Negan know that’s his shit to sort?” you ask, trying to keep your voice neutral, though it comes out cold.

“Uh—sure! Yeah!” Joey nods quickly, probably sensing the shift in your mood but not wanting to push it. 

Without waiting for another word, you head toward the door, not bothering to look back. The last thing you want is to stick around the hall in case Negan shows up unexpectedly. 

You can feel the tension already creeping up your spine at the mere thought of seeing him, of dealing with whatever’s going on between you two.

So, you leave, eager to put some distance between yourself and the mess you’re caught up in.

The school day drags, yet somehow, it feels like it’s slipping away too fast. The hours blur together— teaching feels more like a flurry of words and half-attention from your students as they count down the minutes to the end of the day.

You try to keep them engaged but it’s obvious they’re all just as eager for the holidays as you are. 

The morning feels slow, like every minute stretches just a little too long. You try to get through your classes but every time the clock ticks, your mind drifts back to the party— back to everything that’s been weighing on you. 

By the time you hit the afternoon, you’re caught in this weird mix of excitement and dread. Each class passes, each bell that rings to signal the end of a period feels like a countdown to something you’d rather not face.

The students, for their part, are bouncing off the walls. They’re eager to get out, to be free from school and homework and whatever else hangs over them. 

You watch them, their chatter almost deafening and you can’t help but feel a sense of urgency in the air. It’s almost like the whole school is vibrating with the countdown and the seconds feel like they’re slipping through your fingers.

The lessons go by in a haze—you’re teaching, but you’re not fully there. You’re running through the motions, reciting your notes and trying to keep your class on track but you know that the closer you get to the end of the day, the closer you get to the party, to seeing Negan again, to dealing with whatever awkwardness looms between you two.

Finally, the last bell rings, the sound cutting through your thoughts like a knife. You breathe out a little too heavily, a mix of relief and frustration swirling inside you. 

It’s over.

The school day’s done. 

The holiday break is here and the party is just around the corner. You grab your things quickly, eager to get out of the classroom but the thought of facing the party, of facing him, slows your steps.

You want a moment of quiet before everything kicks off but you can only have such a luxury when you get home to quickly dress into something a little nicer and bring all the alcohol back here to the sports hall. 

The noise in the hallways is deafening, students filing out, chatting excitedly about the break. Your thoughts, though, are already on the evening ahead. 

You rush home, the quiet of your place a welcome relief after the chaos of the day. You head straight to your room, pulling off your teaching clothes and slipping into something nicer for the party—nothing too fancy, but enough to feel put-together. 

A soft sweater and dark jeans, something comfortable but still festive. You grab the bottles you’ve set aside for the party, having to make multiple trips to your car before they're all loaded.

A quick glance in the mirror tells you that you’re ready but the knot in your stomach tells you the opposite. You grab your keys and head out the door, locking it behind you before making your way back to the school. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

It’s almost half six when the first few people trickle in and you’re glad to see their faces. 

For the past forty minutes, it’s just been you, Joey and Negan in the hall, stealing plates and cups from the home ec room and putting all the drink on display. And in that forty… long… minutes, you and Negan exchanged a total of seven words.

“Where’s the tequila?” he basically huffed at you.

“Still in my car” you retorted, giving him the same energy.

You got a grunt in response and he yelled at Joey to go out and grab it as Negan left to get more plates.

But now the sports hall is buzzing with that awkward in-between energy—everyone’s showing up but the party hasn’t fully kicked off yet. There’s a nice hum of conversation, teachers hesitantly reaching for liquor and some commenting on the decorations.

Every time you cross paths with Negan, you veer the other way. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between you two, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. 

You’re doing your best to keep yourself busy— lining up glasses, making sure the food table’s stocked thanks to the newest light in Negan’s life, Sherry (you swear you’re not jealous)—but it’s hard to ignore the tension, the way Negan moves around you, not quite looking at you but not completely avoiding you either.

In one corner of the hall, you see Aaron head towards the large speaker that sits silently waiting.

After a few seconds of fumbling with the speaker, the opening chords of ‘Last Christmas’ filled the room, too loud at first, making everyone glance at each other nervously, unsure if they were meant to sing along, dance, or just pretend it wasn’t happening.

Some teachers head over to the food. Thankfully, you haven’t run into Sherry yet, nor is that something you wish to do. But to give credit where credit is due, the food smells delicious and it’s not as plain as the food usually served at the cafeteria. 

Fingers quickly grab skewers of chicken satay or tiny puff pastries as the music loops on, providing a kind of strange comfort. 

"I swear," Morgan says as he fills his plate, laughing awkwardly as he nudges a colleague "I only came for the pigs in blankets".

Everyone chuckles the first real laugh of the evening and suddenly the awkwardness seems to melt away, if only a little. Yet it’s enough to kick off the night.

As the evening stretches on, the awkwardness begins to fade into something more familiar, a sort of communal ease that only happens when you’ve spent enough time around people you mostly like, but don’t quite know how to relax with. 

You stand back and watch, nursing your drink. 

A few teachers have found their rhythm, wandering between the buffet table and the cozy clusters of conversation, laughing a little too loudly and talking shop just enough to remind themselves they’re not too far from the classroom.

Jesus walks up to you and a few others, gesturing towards one of the empty corners. “Where’s the tree I gave you guys?” he asks curiously, no annoyance in his tone.

Taking a deep breath, you struggle for an answer “We uh, ran out of time to put it up”. 

Jesus gives a quick laugh and a nod, taking your answer for what it is. “And you still have the extra baubles I donated too?” he clarifies, taking a sip of his drink.

You nod and hesitantly explain “Yeah, the tree and baubles are uh… they’re under the bleachers. We didn’t have the space in the storage room”.

Looking around at the other teachers listening, Jesus smiles “Well then, who’s game for putting up a tree?”. 

Before you have time to process that, there’s a burst of energy. 

Jesus and Morgan help bring out the tree. Tara takes the box of baubles, standing with her hands on her hips as she looks down at the box. 

Aaron, ever the optimist, picked up a string of lights and began untangling them with the patience of a saint.

You stand there with a surprised look plastered on your face. Even the people who aren’t helping, stand by and watch. Michonne snaps a few pictures before typing on her phone, no doubt sending it to her husband or Carl. 

Jesus, who has already taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, grabs the tree stand. 

“The tree’s the easy part,” he tells the crowd “the real challenge is making it look intentional when you know it’s probably just going to be… well, a mess”.

Eugene, who has been quietly inspecting the box of ornaments with Tara, looks up at the group. 

“I must admit, I find the idea of a decorated tree somewhat... quaint. But I’ll go along with the sentiment if it makes the rest of you happy,” Eugene says, picking up a candy cane ornament “Plus, I believe we can all agree—Christmas lights are critical”.

Aaron chuckles “Of course you’d have a whole theory about the importance of lights”.

With Eugene’s help, the tree is quickly set up and anchored in its stand, though it wobbles slightly, as if unsure of its purpose. 

“No, no, no, it’s leaning to the left!” Gregory tries to direct them. As you all listen to Gregory and Sasha bicker whether the tilt gives the tree character, you notice a figure lurk closer to you.

Out the corner of your eye, you see Negan. His every movement seems charged, as if he’s on the edge of saying something but never does. And you? You’re not sure what to say either. 

So instead, you both continue this dance, each of you pretending that the other isn’t right there, just a few feet away, caught in the kind of silence that screams everything without a single word being spoken.

“And where’s the tinsel?” Rosita rummages through the box of ornaments. 

“I think there’s some old tinsel in the storage room,” you call out, wanting an excuse to get away from him “I’ll go get it!”.

Negan lowers his head, watching through his lashes as you hurry off to the storage room. He suppresses a sigh, wondering if it’s really that hard for you to be around him.

Do you seriously prefer the cramped, shitty old storage room compared to him? 

This should have been fun. You two should be celebrating! Fuckin’ finally! You’ve made it and now the others are having the time of their life by willingly doing a team building exercise! 

Right now, you should both be teaming up to haggle Michonne for a raise, not barely looking at one another.

And yet Negan can’t do it. He can’t find the words to say this to you. And so he stays in his spot and listens to the others make the task of decorating a Christmas tree seem impossible.

Ten minutes pass. 

Still nothing. No you. No shitty tinsel. Just a whole lot of avoiding. 

Negan can’t believe this. You’d rather hang out in the storage room? Or quietly slip out early? All that hurt and tip toeing around each other starts to bubble in Negan, slowly reaching it’s boiling point.

With a sharp turn, he makes his way through the crowd and towards the storage room. He figures he’ll check in there first and then check the parking lot to see if your car is still here. 

His hand comes straight out as he opens the door with enough vigor to make it fly open. Not that he’s thinking about the door when he sees you, just standing there.

“Are you really gonna hide on me?” He starts, boots slamming against the messy floor as he leaves the doorway and walks deeper into the room, closer to you.

For a split second, you freeze. But as you see your opportunity for escape closing, you rush forward. 

You don’t pay any attention to his question, trying to get past him as you blurt “Wait! Stop! Don’t let the door—”.

But before either of you can reach it, the door slams shut with a resounding thud, cementing back into its frame. Negan’s anger falters when he realizes what just happened.

He doesn’t know how many times he warned you about the old storage room door being hard to open from the inside, yet here you are— and now him, victim to the heavy door.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me…” His voice drops to a low, venomous growl as he steps back to the door. He tries to yank it open once, twice, thrice! And yet it stays in place.

With the click of his tongue, Negan looks to you “You seriously got yourself locked in here?”.

You don’t appreciate the mocking tone and so you bite back “Yeah and now you have too!”.

With a sigh, Negan leans up against some of the boxes. His anger is gone and now he’s just unsure what to say to you

You step up and try the door again. You yank the handle again, twisting it violently but the door stays still. 

“Dammit!” You mutter under your breath, before you get a new idea and begin banging on the door. 

“Hey! Hello? We’re in here! Help!” you shout, your voice rising with each strike. 

Unfortunately it’s still not enough compared to the loud thumping of bass and jingle bells from the Christmas music blaring in the adjoining room.

Negan watches you with a mixture of bemusement and annoyance. He chuckles lowly, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, that’s one hell of a performance,” he comments with a grin, the sarcasm dripping off his words. Stopping for a moment, you throw him a glare before continuing again.

“You’re bangin’ on beat with that Christmas nonsense. Hell, they won’t hear you over the jingle bells and whatever crap is playing” he points out, taking no notice of your glare.

You stop, staring at him with an annoyed look “I don’t need your commentary right now, Negan”.

He shrugs, uncaring “Just callin’ it like I see it. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Again”.

Ignoring his comments, you listen to the party outside. Laughter. Chatter too loud that it drowns out your shouts for help. The occasional cheering as they continue to decorate the tree. 

“Sounds like they’re having fun” you grumble.

Negan waits a moment before replying, his tone losing his sarcasm “So should we”.

There’s a tightness when he says that— but not the good kind. You’ve always been one to blurt things out, Negan should know that better than anyone. 

Although hearing you quietly mutter “Yeah, I’m sure you and Sherry should be having the time of your lives”, throws Negan’s head in a tailspin. 

“What? Sherry?” The edge is back in his voice as he asks, making you go quiet again. 

You shrug in response.

He narrows his eyes as you stay silent. When you don’t say a word, Negan shakes his head “Fuck, I thought we were gettin’ somewhere, and now? Now this shit?”.

Negan takes a breath before deciding to start small. “Why’re you bringing up Sherry?” he lets the question hang in the air.

Eyes flickering to the ground, your voice feels tight as you reply “I… I saw you with Sherry, arriving to work with her, and—”. You stop yourself, biting back the words. 

It doesn’t matter that you stopped anyways as Negan interjects with a slightly sarcastic laugh “You thought I’d what? Sleep with her?”.

He steps closer, trying to get you to look at him.

“Doll, she just wanted to cash in that I-owe-you,” he says before deciding you’ll need more of an explanation “she wanted to buy her boyfriend a motorbike for Christmas but she knows fuck all about bikes… I, however, have had my fair share so I went with her to get give her my expert opinion. Nothing more. I just spent the morning looking at shitty second hand bikes”.

You nod, eyes still down as you process his answer. But now it’s Negan’s turn to get some answers.

“You really think I’d kiss you, then go and sleep with someone else right after?” his voice is firm but tinged with hurt “Is that how little you think of me?”.

That makes you look up, eyes wide before they soften with regret “No! I don’t— It’s just, you didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to think. You didn’t tell me anything about her or what you were doing”.

You hesitate, realizing how much you’ve misinterpreted “I should’ve talked to you first. I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t want to make a fool of myself”.

A few hollers can be heard in the sports hall as Negan pauses, letting out a slow exhale.

“You don’t have to apologize for giving a damn. I get it, though, how that would’ve looked,” he runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself “I mean, Sherry and I, that was a one time thing that neither of us want a round two of”.

You nibble on your bottom lip, unsure whether you’ll like the answer to your next question but needing to ask nonetheless. “So… what did happen? Back then, between you and Sherry?”.

His posture shifts slight as if he’s physically as well as mentally letting down his guard. 

“Sherry and her man were on a break, she wanted a distraction…” he trails off, letting you fill in the details “and then when they got back together, she had to really prove to the guy that she wasn’t interested in me anymore so she went from thinking I was good enough to fuck, to straight out hating me”.

“Huh… I kinda presumed you just cut contact with a lot of them after the deed is done” you reply, not expecting to hear that Sherry hated Negan anyways, whether or not he ghosted her.

“Oh I do sometimes, other times it just fizzles or it’s decided beforehand that it’s just a one night kinda thing” he explains “We both get something out of it”.

“A two way system” You call it.

Negan tilts his head as he thinks, “‘I wouldn’t exactly call it that. It’s just… mutual benefits.

A faint smirk ghosts his face “A two way system is you arguing with me, me arguing with you, you taking me on a date, me taking you on a date, me flirting with you, you flirting with me”.

You can’t help the smile at that, rolling your eyes teasingly, any annoyance you had for Negan melting away.

He continues, poking his tongue out of his mouth “Me kissing you.. you shoving your tongue down my throat”.

“I did not do it like that!!” You exclaim with a laugh.

He chuckles, his own annoyance gone now too. “You’re right, you’re right,” he concedes before thinking up a better way of saying it “you… oh so subtly slipping that dainty tongue of yours into my mouth all sexy like”.

“I didn’t use tongue!” You declare, throwing your hands up before the playfulness fades into a somber silence.

“I am sorry,” you reiterate ”I guess I should’ve trusted you more. I should’ve asked, instead of assuming.”

He gives you a look you can only describe as tender. 

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly the talking-about-feelings kinda guy and I kinda thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore,” he tells you, his voice a gentle hum “But if you’re asking— I want this. I want you. No more games, no more misunderstandings. Just… us. Alright?”.

A small, relieved smile tugs at the corners of your lips, tension easing. “I think that would be nice” you agree, trying to drown out the loud Christmas music during your intimate moment.

There’s a quiet between you both, no more words needing to be exchanged. Negan begins to move again but instead of heading towards the door, he briefly disappears to the back of the storage room.

“Negan?” You call out.

He strolls over to one of the old boxes and starts to look through it. The musty smell of forgotten storage fills the air as he pulls out a dusty, crinkled piece of tinsel, its once-silver strands now dulled and faded with time.

“If we’re all good now…” he says as he stops and reaches down into the box “y’know what we gotta seal it with, right?”.

His mouth twitches with a hint of amusement and as he steps back toward you, dangling that goddamn piece of old mistletoe in front of you. 

His expression is half-mocking, half-playful, as if he’s trying to make light of getting stuck in here. 

You look at the mistletoe and then back up at him. “Well, it is tradition…” you tilt your head up, expecting to see that cocky expression of his but instead it gives way to something more sincere.

Before you can say anything, he’s lifting the mistletoe above your heads, positioning it just right. 

Not being one to waste time, Negan presses his lips to yours, the kiss soft at first, just a light brush but as if giving into the moment, you deepen it. 

His lips are warm and steady against yours. The taste of him lingers as it becomes more heated. Negan drops the mistletoe, both of you each other instinctively pulling closer.

His lips press more urgently against yours, like he's unable to hold back anymore. His hand slides from your waist to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, pulling you into him with a force that makes you gasp into his mouth.

That gasp seems to push him further, the heat between you intensifying. His tongue sweeps against yours in a coaxing manner. Backing away, you pull him with you until your back is flush against another stack of boxes. 

There's nothing tentative about this anymore; it's a powerful, consuming kiss, raw with hunger and desire.

Negan’s hands slide under your festive sweater, skin on skin. The contact sends a shiver down your spine, heightening every sensation. Your fingers clutch at his shirt, needing more of him, more of this. 

His body presses against you, hips aligning with yours, and the pressure builds as you feel the weight of him against you. His breathing becomes heavier, his chest rising and falling in sync with the erratic make out session.

The words around you fall on deaf ears, neither you or Negan paying attention to the Christmas music or the mumbling of Gregory outside saying “It’s in here, you say? Oh Christ!”.

Suddenly the music is clearer and another light source shines across your face. “Mm?” You question, although it’s hard to get the words out with Negan’s lips still on yours.

Pulling away, you see a look of shock and disgust on Gregory’s face.

He clears his throat, trying and failing to regain some semblance of control. “This… this is—uh—what is happening here?” his words came out in a disjointed jumble, bringing the other’s attention to the storage room.

“They’re together?!” you hear Rosita’s voice.

“You didn’t know about them?” the voice of Michonne reaches your ears “Carl told me they were a couple ages ago!”.

Suddenly you realize you’re like a deer in headlights, just frozen and watching. That is until Negan takes you hand in his and yanks you out of the storage room while the door is still open.

You follow his lead, letting him bring you out to the middle of the sports hall until he turns to face you again. His hands find their home on your back and he begins to sway to the slow Christmas song.

“Are we… dancing right now?” You question, clasping your hands around the back of his neck. 

The others stare for a few moments before carrying on with whatever it is they were doing beforehand. Some drink, some stuff their faces and chat, while others grab a partner and dance too.

Negan doesn’t answer with words, instead giving you a little spin before finding you back in his arms.

“So… you still spending Christmas alone?” Negan says it casually, though there’s a subtle trace of concern in his tone.

You inhale before replying, shifting slightly in his arms “Yeah”.

“You sure about that?” He leans in a little closer, his face now just inches from yours, as though trying to read between the lines. 

There’s a small, almost imperceptible shake of your head, showing you’ve already made peace with the decision as you sigh “I think it’s for the best I don’t change plans now and go spend it with my family”.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I was kinda trying to crash your plans, not suggest you skedaddle out of town” Negan’s grin widens, and he gives you a playful nudge

“What?”.

His smile deepens as he watches your reaction, fully aware of how bold he’s being. “Well, you’re spending Christmas alone, I’m spending Christmas alone,” he explains “we get on like a house on fire, you’re hot, I’m hot”.

“Negan!” you exclaim, a mix of embarrassment and amusement flooding your chest.

“I’ll bring the mistletoe” the offer hangs in the air, and you can feel the moment shifting, building toward something neither of you is fully ready to name, but both are undeniably feeling.

“… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you were there too” you slowly admit “but you have to bring me a present!”. 

Negan chuckles, keeping his hands on the small of your back as he looks up and pretends to think. “Hm… I might be able to do that” he says. 

He tries to act as though he’s debating the condition, as if he hasn’t already bought you things.

A cinnamon candle.

A pumpkin statue to match his own.

A winter coat that will actually keep you warm (that may have some leather accents so you’ll match his own jacket).

Some snacks he’s been picking up whenever he’s out.

And a list he’s made himself of the corniness Christmas movies he could find on the many streaming services that are around.

“Maybe I could do with that mistletoe now,” you tease, showing off your actual flirting skills.

Negan smirks down at you, one of his hands trailing up your back as you both sway to the music.

“Darlin’ I think we are way past mistletoe now,” he quips back before he leans down.

Despite being in the sports hall that made you and Negan go at each other’s throats. Despite being surrounded by your colleagues …

You kiss him.

[hanta-seros-wifey]

something in the orange| fratboy!katsuki bakugo x f!softgirl!reader

mmary: childhood competitive friends take a college cooking course together for fun. katsuki bakugo, our amazing frat boy, and y/n, our amazing soft hearted girl. katsuki has a soft spot for her, but because of his ego won't let it show. denki being denki, lets a secret spill out which can ultimately make or break your friendship with katsuki bakugo

authors note: reader is best friends with denki, sero, kyoka, and tenya!!

chapter 7: dance private rooms & sunsets

you danced your heart out in the private room you reserved for practice time. you leaped into the air and fell down not landing correctly. you sighed out in frustration. “fuck!” you mumbled to yourself. you havent been in the right head space since last week.

you’ve been postponing talking to katsuki and you were glad your professor for your baking class with katsuki cancelled class today due to her feeling ill. you were nearing the end of your first semester here at UA University with only a month left before youre all going home for Christmas break.

you got up again and tried again, repeating it over and over again. at one point you got tired and threw yourself on the floor. you sighed out and reached for your phone. you paused the music and scrolled through your phone, responding to some messages.

as soon as you finished replying to hanta, a message from katsuki came through.

kats 🍓

where are you? i knocked on your door but i got no response.

you opened the message and shakily type out a reply.

you

sorry im in the dance building

you wait a minute before your phone dings with another message.

kats 🍓

im coming over

you only reacted with a thumbs up to the message as you hurriedly tried making your hair look nice. you brushed it and tucked a strand behind your ear. you grab your id and walk out to wait for katsuki.

you spot him walking over and you cant help but melt at the sight of him. he’s just so handsome. you smiled at him as he reached you and looked down at you.

“come” you mumbled leading the way into the private room. he locks it behind him and you look at him. “i cant hold it in anymore” he says and quickly moves towards you and kissing you.

you grab onto his shoulders and get on your tip toes to kiss him back properly. one of his hands held your face gently and the other held your waist gripping it slightly. he kissed you as if it was the last time he’d be doing that. he moves you towards the wall and your back gently pressed against it.

“i love you” he muttered in between kisses and you smiled into the kiss. “fuck us talking” he said moving down to kiss your neck. “i know you want me and i want you” he grumbled into your neck and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

you sighed gently at the feeling of his mouth of your neck. he pulls away and looks at the mark he left on the side of your neck. “let me take you out please?” he asks cupping your face and you smiled.

“i thought you’d never ask kats” you joked while giggling lightly and he presses his lips against yours again. “theres no cameras in here is there?” he asks you while looking around the room. “no” you giggled and looked at the mirror.

“hm” he only hums and looks at the mirror too. “its getting late” you said holding his hands and he looks down at you. he nods his head and packs up your things while you change out of your pointe shoes.

the walk back to the dorms was filled with laughter and stolen kisses. you walked in and your friends were sitting on the couch, waiting for your arrival.

hanta smirked as he looked at your’s and katsuki’s hands. “goodnight guys!” you cheered out dragging katsuki along with you. “theyre definitely gonna fuck” denki said and you returned down the steps enough to throw your pointe shoe at him.

kyoka starts laughing while massaging the back of his head, the boys dying of laughter. “no we are not” you said before disappearing up the stairs.

●~*

you and katsuki sat at a booth in the schools on campus cafe, talking. you sipped on your coffee as you giggled at something katsuki had said. “youre so cute” he says while his laughter died down. he stares at you with such love and adoration.

you looked down at your math notes in your ipad and blushed. “shut up” you mumbled with a huge smile on your face. “what its true” he says staring at your flustered face.

he clears his throat and looks at his hands resting on the table. “can i take you out on a date Saturday?” he asks as he looks at your face. “you have yourself a date katsuki” you said smiling at him and he smiles back.

denki and eijiro come out of nowhere and sit in the booth with the two of you. “its busy today isnt it?” denki asks katsuki shrugging off his jacket and placing it in his lap. “what are you two idiots doing here?” katsuki asks the both of them and they look at each other. “we just wanna” they said at the same time and you giggled while katsuki groaned out in annoyance.

“how’s life?” eijiro asks after a moment of awkward silence. “good eiji!” you answered and he nods and smiles at you and turns his head to look at katsuki. katsuki looks at him, “good” he grumbles out. “yea i can tell its going good” denki says smirking down at you and glancing towards your neck.

your eyes widened and you hit denki’s arm while he and eijiro burst out laughing. “not funny assholes” you said crossing your arms across your chest. “lets go get a coffee” denki tells eijiro and they slip out of the booth leaving their belongings behind.

“idiots” katsuki mumbles and you giggle. “cmon kats theyre our friends” you said with a big smile. “idiot friends” he smirks at you and you hold eye contact with him. “you talked to your moms?” he asks you and you nod your head.

“almost daily kats” you said sipping your coffee and he watches you. “do they know?” he asks and gestures to the two of you. “of course duh we giggled about it for an hour over the phone yesterday” you smiled and he smiles so wide.

“told my parents” he mumbles and you smile too. “theyre happy” he says and you smile even more. “im thinking of going red guys how we feel about it?” eijiro says as he and denki come back with coffee and pastries.

“telling him it’d look sick huh bakugo” denki says nodding his head towards katsuki. “it’d make you look stupider” he says hiding back a smirk. “hey cmon now man” eijiro says throwing his hands up in the air at katsuki’s remark.

“i think it’d look nice eiji” you softly smiled at him and he offers a fist bump to you, which you gladly do. “i like how nice your girlfriend is” denki says biting into his muffin. “complete opposite of you thats for sure” he continues which earns him a smack across the head from katsuki.

“technically not his girlfriend officially, a girl can dream” you said looking at katsuki and he playfully scowls at you and you giggle softly. you’re friendly help denki soothe the pain on his head where katsuki smacked him while he happily eats his muffin.

“you know whats funny” eijiro starts as he bites his banana bread. “kyoka is like katsuki and you and y/n are the same its so hilarious” he continues and denki nods. “i love kyoka though she’s the best” he says dreamily and you smile at that. “aww” you gush and katsuki smiles at you.

“mina and i cant be mean to each other. its just not us” eijiro tells the group and you nod. “i like that its adorable. i love my katsuki the way he is” you said proudly and all the boys smile at you. “coffee without us?” you heard and your eyes lit up upon seeing kyoka, mina, and hanta.

“denki move!” you said as you pushed him lightly out of the booth and opening your arms to have them all hug you. “my babies” you said as they group hugged you. “back off” eijiro and denki said at the same time and you only shook your head no. you stand up and pull away immediately telling them to sit down.

“let me get you guys coffee and pastries my treat, i’ll be right back” you said grabbing your wallet and a hand stops you. “no here use my meal swipe for it dont use yours” hanta said putting his id card into yours. “no i will be paying with my meal swipe shush” you said returning his card and walking off.

“its how she is. this is kind of her way of expressing her love” katsuki said as he looked at you standing in line. “she paid for mine earlier” he smiles looking at his cup of coffee. “hey she didnt do that for us” denki complained and kyoka slapped his arm. “shut up!” she hissed and he nods his head immediately shutting his mouth.

“you got him wrapped around your finger huh ky” mina jokes and the table laughs. you return back with 3 cups of coffee along with a pastry for each of them. eijiro and mina stand up so you can sit with katsuki and he immediately wraps an arm around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“thank you” the three said as they sipped on their coffees happily. “no problem” you waved it off and put your leg on katsuki’s thigh. you sit there for the next three hours, chatting and laughing.

●~*

SATURDAY

you sat at your vanity while mina, kyoka, momo, and ochaco sit on your bed giggling about your date with katsuki. you finished your makeup and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“okay my girlies i know you guys know where this date is and considering its freezing outside. can you help me pick out an outfit?” you smiled sweetly at them and they immediately jumped up, looking through your closet.

they fished out a pair of light blue baggy jeans, white fitted long sleeve shirt, and white heeled boots. “this” mina says and the girls nod along. you changed and the girls immediately start with compliments.

“here wear this to stay warm” momo says handing you a jacket from your closet. a knock on your door startles you. youre not expecting katsuki for another 15 minutes at least. you opened it and eijiro, denki, izuku, tenya, and hanta scoot themselves in.

they stand in front of all of you and the girls look stunned. “special message from katsuki bakugo” hanta started off with a posh accent and turned to look at izuku.

“katsuki bakugo will be here in approximately 15 minutes to pick you up for your scheduled date” he says mocking hanta’s fake accent and looking at denki to keep going. “scheduled for 4 pm maam” he bows and the boys follow along.

“any message to deliver to the katsuki bakugo?” eijiro says and mina bursts out laughing. “okay honey stop” she says as her and kyoka giggle. “tell him im ready and i’ll be waiting his arrival” you said and the boys nodded with tenya bearing a farewell to all of you.

“weirdos” kyoka says as she holds momo’s arm to stable herself. 15 minutes later, a knock was heard on your door. you softly breathed as you opened the door to see katsuki with a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

“hi pretty” he says as he extends the flowers out to you. “for you” he mumbles clearly nervous and you take them. “i love them” you beam up at him and pull him into a hug. momo comes over and hands you your purse. “ready to go?” he asks you making sure you have everything.

“yes” you said checking your purse giving him the all clear. “have fun, enjoy, be safe” the girls say all together as they shut your dorm room giggling. the boys come out from the stairs and immediately make their way to your dorm, push the both of you out of the way, knock, are let in, and giggle with the girls.

“what just happened” you said in disbelief as you crane your neck to look up at katsuki. “no idea” he says as he looks down at you and smiles. he takes his hand into yours and starts the walk down the stairs.

●~*

“you are an idiot katsuki bakugo” you laugh as you fed him a strawberry. youre at the park, on a picnic date. he wants to watch the sunset with you. its supposed to turn orange today and wants to see it with you.

“its true guilty” he says as he laughs with you two, his mouth full of a strawberry. “i beat him up, didnt get in trouble” he says defensively. “we ended on “good terms” cmon now” you laugh as katsuki just finished telling you he beat up your middle school boyfriend after he broke up with you.

mind you the relationship was going for at least a week, its middle school. “you seemed so sad” he defends and you only laugh harder. “any new dance choreography” he asks grabbing some kiwi on a fork and feeding it to you.

you chewed on it before speaking and nodded your head. “to a new song, wanna help me with it?” you ask him and he nods his head popping a piece pf pineapple in his mouth. “i love watching you dance” he says and your cheeks heat up.

“its just so mesmerizing. the way you move, the way you know how to move. its so skillful and beautiful” he rambles on and you can only smile as you watch him talk. “wanna know when the moment i fell in love with you was?” he asks you and you sit up wanting to know the answer.

“do tell kats” you tilted your head to the side, a huge smile on your face. “junior year we went to your dance recital and just watching you dance to one of my favorite songs did it for me” he says grabbing watermelon and eating it.

you thought long and hard. “apocalypse by cigs after sex really!” you said excitedly and he nods his head smirking. “oh i love that piece” you said grabbing his arm lightly recalling that night in your head.

“i think i fell no?” you ask him and he immediately nods his head stifling a laugh. “you did” he says recollecting himself and grabs a grape feeding it to you. “well i’ve honestly been in love with you hmm lets see basically our whole lives” you said with a smile and he swallows the piece of sandwich he just bit into.

“be more specific” he says gesturing for you to elaborate. “the swings. i beat you there, you stomped off all mad” you recalled and he laughed looking away. “no way” he says shaking his head while you nodded.

he looks out into the field and notices the sunset. “look pretty its starting” he says scooting closer to you and wrapping an arm gently around your waist. you leaned your head on his shoulder and looked up slightly to push your lips against his briefly.

“i love you” you mumbled against his lips as he cupped your face and turned you to capture his lips completely. when you pull away you both turn to look at the beautiful orange sunset.

you pull your phone out to snap a picture of the sky and turned the camera towards the both of you. “smile baby” you said and he leaned his head on your shoulder smiling lightly.

you snapped so many pictures and sent them to your moms. you turn to see katsuki held up a sign with the question “can i be your boyfriend?” you smiled widely and tackled him in a hug. “1000 times yes dumb dumb” you captured his lips into a kiss.

taglist:

@akuixe @arc6021 @jellysupremacy @defnotriri @babylambdietcoke

[legendary-69420]

Chapter 0 : A New Normal

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 3) EVERYONE SHUT UP IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!!!

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Charles sat at the café, the steady hum of quiet conversations around him doing little to settle his nerves. His fingers traced the rim of his cup, mind wandering to the events of the previous night. The message from Mark, asking to talk, echoed in his mind. “Hey! About what happened… Can we talk soon? Just us?” It had left him tangled in questions, wondering what Mark meant by it—was this about setting boundaries? Or perhaps something more?

A soft chime at the door pulled Charles from his thoughts. Mark walked in, his familiar presence immediately settling the buzzing anticipation in Charles’s chest. He spotted Charles with a small smile, making his way over. Mark’s casual sweater and jeans were a contrast to the racing suits and helmets they were usually known for, yet Charles felt no less captivated. He slid into the chair across from him.

“Hey,” Mark said, his voice steady, but Charles could see the nervous energy in his eyes.

“Hey,” Charles replied, managing a small smile though there was an edge of tension in the air between them. They shared some awkward pleasantries, neither quite knowing how to begin. Finally, Mark broke the silence.

“So, about… about yesterday,” Mark started, his voice unsure.

Charles nodded, his gaze never leaving Mark. “Yeah. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up either, but I’m glad we’re talking.”

Mark let out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, me too. I just… didn’t want things to be weird, you know? We’re teammates first, and a… kiss shouldn’t mess that up.”

The words lingered in the air, and Charles felt a pang in his chest. The kiss had felt like more than just a fluke, more than just a momentary lapse in judgment. But he couldn’t say that—not yet, anyway.

“Yeah,” Charles agreed, his voice steady but tight. “It was unexpected. But we were both just caught up in the moment, right?” He forced a chuckle, hoping it would sound lighthearted, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing to worry about.”

Mark seemed to study him for a second, his eyes searching Charles’s face as if he could read something unspoken there. He leaned back, seemingly relieved, but Charles could see the hesitation in his smile.

“Exactly,” Mark agreed quickly. “It was just an accident. A funny story for later, right?”

Charles let out a soft laugh, though it felt more forced than before. “Yeah, just one of those things.”

They both fell silent, neither entirely convinced by the words they’d just exchanged. Then, unexpectedly, Mark’s gaze softened, and his voice dropped, barely above a whisper.

“Honestly, though… it wasn’t a bad thing. I didn’t expect it to… feel like that.”

Charles’s breath caught in his throat at the admission. Mark’s vulnerability was rare, and it hit him harder than he’d anticipated. He looked down, trying to steady himself, but before he could gather his thoughts, Mark cleared his throat.

“Not that it means anything,” Mark added hastily, “I mean, we agreed, right? Just a one-time thing.”

“Of course,” Charles replied, his voice sounding rougher than he’d meant it to. “Just an accident.”

But before either of them could say more, Mark closed the gap between them, his lips finding Charles’s in a tentative, slow kiss. This time, there was no rush, no panic. It was soft, but the depth of it hit harder than the first. It wasn’t a mistake. It was something more—something that neither of them could explain away.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Charles’s cheeks were flushed, his mind racing. Mark’s lips were still slightly parted, his eyes wide with surprise, but there was a soft acknowledgment in his gaze.

“So…” Mark started, his voice trailing off as the kiss lingered in the air between them.

Charles didn’t know how to respond. The world felt quieter now, the café’s hum fading into a distant murmur. He didn’t want to break the moment, but neither did he know how to move past it.

Mark pulled back first, looking down at his hands, his gaze unable to meet Charles’s. The smile that had played on his lips was gone, replaced by a subtle unease. Neither of them spoke, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them.

Charles shifted in his seat, his heart still racing from the kiss. He wanted to say something—anything—but nothing felt right. So he stayed silent, his mind swirling with what had just happened and what it meant. Neither of them had said it aloud, but they both knew that what had just occurred wasn’t a one-off. It couldn’t be. The kiss, though brief, had felt too real, too undeniable to ignore.

Mark broke the silence after a long pause, his voice quieter than before. “Well… guess that was… unexpected.” He cleared his throat, the words awkward, but there was something in his eyes that told Charles he wasn’t talking about it being an accident anymore.

“Yeah,” Charles muttered, his own gaze dropping to his coffee cup. “Definitely unexpected.”

For a moment, they just sat there, both trying to act like nothing had changed, but everything had. They weren’t sure what was next, but neither of them doubted that this wouldn’t be the last time their lips met.

With a final, hesitant glance at each other, they both stood up, paying for their drinks in silence. They walked out of the café side by side, the weight of the unspoken words hanging between them, but the comfort of each other’s presence undeniable.

Neither of them said anything more on the walk back, but Charles could feel the electricity in the air—the knowledge that whatever this was, it wasn’t over. And though they hadn’t put it into words, there was an understanding that this awkwardness wouldn’t last forever.

--- (I'm so sorry I had to make some final edits and It took some minutes)

[heylittleriotact]

🎄 Merry Almost Christmas Have A Festive WIP 🎄

(It's not looking like I'll be able to finish this before the holiday chaos ensues and I won't have a moment to myself until at least the weekend, so Christmas came sort of early, Emmrook friends)

❄️ Yet Untitled First-Day Holiday Fluff Piece ❄️

She stares at the gold ring and twitches her finger slightly, capturing a beam of groggy winter sunshine in the impressive red jewel that adorns it. She raises and lowers the finger, mesmerized by the comforting silence of the wood paneled entryway, and the way the light catches so prettily on the stone, making it look like bright arterial blood: rich with oxygen and scarlet in colour. 

It’s no ruby though… not even relatively inexpensive garnet. It’s coloured glass, and the band isn’t gold: judging on the way it leaves a dull green shadow of itself on her skin by the end of each day, it’s brass or maybe copper. 

If one was to look at it closely - which she has numerous times over the past few months - they would see where the cheap metal has been repetitively worn down, buckled, been repaired, and worn down some more over decades. There’s an almost imperceptible chip in the stone near the upper left edge of the setting, and in the right light you can see where small spiderweb cracks have been painstakingly filled in with a strong, clear substance, sanded and polished to match the shine of the rest of the stone. 

She dare not ask how much coin Emmrich has spent over the years to keep this ring in good repair. 

He rather insistently offered to buy her a ‘proper’ ring to mark their betrothal the morning after they returned to Nevarra: his Father’s ring was only meant to be temporary given the timing of his proposal, and what she really needed was a ring befitting the enormity and depth of his love for her; a ring that would at least compare to her beauty, though no bauble existed that could ever equal it. There were a number of other poetic and deeply romantic sentiments that she patiently waited for him to list off, nodding politely as he worked himself into a veritable tizzy, snuggled up alongside her in the warmth of the plush feather bed in the master suite of his house in the city.

“If you wish to spoil me with a second engagement ring, I daresay I’ll be the talk of Nevarra, and I won’t utter a single complaint,” she grinned, rotating the priceless ring on her finger. “But I hope you realize I’m going to keep wearing this one. This is the real one: this one is you. And you could drop a small kingdom worth of gold on the finest ring from King Caspar’s personal collection for all I care, but it would still look like cheap junk next to this, so if this is all just a clever ruse to get me to give it back, you’re out of luck, love: it’s mine– just like your heart… but don’t fret: I’ll take good care of them both.” And she planted a kiss on the top of his head, burying her nose in tousled hair that smelled of ripe cherries.

He made her come three times in a row that morning. 

She smiles at the memory and tugs on a pair of lined leather gloves, looking around the inviting entryway of the house as she does this. It’s a level of status and comfort that she’s still very much getting used to. It’s not a palatial manor by any means, but rather a high-end rowhouse in a quadrant of the city where nobles, high-ranking Mortalitasi, and retired political advisors live. Rowhouse or no, it’s still got four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and the nicest kitchen Amina has ever seen. Emmrich worked hard for the comfort he enjoys, and Amina was no pauper before her break from the Watch, but getting used to having staff has proven… challenging. Blessedly with the holiday coming up, Emmrich has sent the housekeeper, footman, and butler home - with full pay of course, and some extra - to be with their families. The house is empty and quiet but for the two of them, and it’s been a boon to just feel able to fully relax without the ever-present awareness of someone perceiving her, even if it was done benevolently by the curious staff of Professor Volkarin.

She couldn’t blame them for their interest: their employer went on sabbatical months earlier and returned home, a lauded hero of Thedas, with a relatively young woman on his arm and rumours of an imminent marriage trailing the pair. 

She runs a gloved finger down the dark chestnut door frame (not a speck of dust) and shifts, feeling a bit warm standing inside wearing her thick, gray wool coat. It always takes Emmrich forever to get ready to go anywhere— they’re going skating, not attending high tea with the Empress of Orlais…

“Rook!”

She glances over her shoulder to see Manfred shuffling down the hallway towards her, a pair of ice skates held aloft in front of him as he races towards her. 

“Knives!” He declares, eyes flaring gleefully. “Knives!”

“Sort of,” she remarks wryly, her lip curling in an amused smile that she can’t help whenever the enthusiastic construct is around. “Best not let your Father see you running with those: you remember the incident with the scalpel, hm?”

“Pressure!” Manfred recites proudly, “Put! Pressure!” He grips Amina’s forearm with surprising strength to demonstrate.

“Very good.”

“Hurray!” He relinquishes his grip and hops from foot to foot, unable to contain his excitement.

It had been difficult to convince Emmrich to bring Manfred skating, what with her beloved citing the obvious incompatibility of brittle bone, hard ice, and gravity. 

“What if he falls?” Emmrich had queried, his brow knitting in consternation, his lips pouting, fingers laced over his heart - hell, his moustache might have drooped a little. 

Emmrich still turns brick red when Manfred calls him ‘Father’ and tries to correct him, but when he’s not within earshot, Amina tells Manfred not to listen: just this time - because he is Manfred’s father, and he’ll get used to it eventually, but denying it isn’t going to do either of them favours.

“He won’t fall,” she had promised Emmrich, tracing the shape of his shadowed jaw. “Not when he’s got both of us by his side.”

He made love to her twice that night: long, passionate encounters that left her muscles a bit achy and her brain a bit foggy come the morning.

She’s still been taking her weekly tincture to prevent pregnancy, but sooner or later she knows they’re going to have to talk about the future of that… and all that might come of stopping it. She could have broached the topic by now - could have said something, but he hasn’t said anything either, and even if she did float the idea of a child by him and he said no, that would be fine, but she hasn’t felt ready for the permanence of that conversation yet… the fact that once its had, it can’t really be taken back: she’s thirty-seven, and running short on time to act on such things…

“Emmrich is Father. Rook is Mother!” 

“Oh. Um… not… not just yet, Manfred… wait— who told you that?” She feels her face redden, feels even warmer in her coat and scarf than she already does: where the hell is Emmrich? “Your ability to speak is certainly coming along, isn’t it?” She pretends to take a nose he doesn’t have, sticking the tip of her gloved thumb out from between her index and middle finger. She shakes it tauntingly and bites back the laugh threatening to break loose at the sound of Manfred’s scandalized hiss. “Give you a few years and I bet you’ll be running entire lectures by yourself.” She ducks Manfred’s grab for the ‘nose’ in her hand, bobs under his skeletal arm and straightens: they’ve played this game before - it rapidly became one of his favourites once Amina made sure he was crystal clear in his understanding that it was a game and he was not to actually remove anyone’s nose. 

“Oh good, you’re both ready!” 

Emmrich traipses down the stairs, hauling his own dark green wool coat up over his shoulders, a man in his element with his hair impeccably coiffed, his charcoal trousers perfectly pressed even in the absence of his butler. His earthy, herbal aftershave follows in his wake as he squeezes past Amina, his hand trailing over her waist to tug a soft woolen scarf from one of the hooks lining the wall.

“The ice on the river might have started melting had we waited any longer.” She snags Manfred’s wrist and gently deposits the ‘nose’ in his hand. After he jams it back on his face, clacking madly the entire time, she turns to Emmrich and beams at him, watching him weave the brown scarf into a complex but distinguished knot, tucking the ends down the front of his coat before buttoning it and lifting the collar to frame his angular face.

He’s flustered - at odds. Is it because he hasn’t skated in years, or is he still preoccupied with worry over Manfred?

“I loathe feeling rushed,” he half mumbles into the scarf, verging on a proper strop. 

“No one’s rushing you.”

He’s taking this very seriously. Too seriously: the tension in his frame gives it away. So she catches his eyes with hers along with his hands, and rises on her tiptoes to press a long, soft kiss to his lips. He tastes like life and embalming fluid and strong black tea.

“You’re the one that wanted to take me skating anyway,” she purrs against his lips, half tempted to tell Manfred that skating has been cancelled so she can take Emmrich upstairs and put a properly fucked out smile on his face instead of the dour pout he’s currently wearing. “We’ll have a lovely time, and if it helps put your mind at ease, why don’t we bundle Manfred in your thickest down-filled coat?” 

His mouth turns up slightly at the corners after a moment of consideration. “What an excellent idea, darling.” He kisses her again, holding her chin with his thumb and forefinger, his fingers so wonderfully warm and real. For a moment she wonders if he’s having thoughts about calling off their excursion as well, but he turns from her to rifle through the closet. He leans further and further in, going further and further back through decades of fashions - some timeless, others dated and eccentric - she’s well familiar by now with the state of his sprawling closet upstairs: it’s little wonder he has this many coats too. 

Eventually she hears a muffled ‘a-ha!’ and Emmrich resurfaces gripping a massive down-filled jacket that’s a virulent shade of yellow plaidweave. It’s got about forty pockets, twenty-odd buckles, and a dozen black toggle style closures running down the front all shaped like skulls. The hood and cuffs are trimmed with…with some sort of fur? …Why is it bright green?

It’s hideous.

Actually, ‘hideous’ is a polite assessment: in fact, it’s so, so far beyond hideous that Amina is unsure if there actually exists a word to accurately describe the severe affront to all things fashionable that this jacket is. 

Unable to help herself, Amina bursts out laughing at the sight of the thing, mostly due to the immediate mental image of the man holding it, wearing it. 

“What?” He frowns.

“It’s so…” she gasps between giggles. “It’s just so… hah! Did you actually wear that?” She collapses in a fit of amused titters again as the love of her life holds the jacket at arms length and studies it. 

“Well… yes.” He states, sounding nonplussed. “Granted, I was in my very early twenties when this style was popular with the more… avant garde circles I ran with in those days…” 

“It looks cozy, I’ll give it that.” She gently tugs it out of his hands even though he’s still frowning at it, nostalgia evident on his face. “And we certainly won’t lose Manfred in a crowd with this colour combination.”