#because I think they were both a little too tired for that

[subcultureblues]

Don’t You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 1

Steve and Eddie have been hooking up and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)

———

“For the record, I still think this is dumb.” Lucas said over the wind.

“Yeah, well, you’re dumb.” Mike said, sharp witted as always.

“Got you there.” Will grinned, sidling up beside him on his bike. Mike shot him a look, vaguely betrayed. Will shrugged innocently and kept peddling.

“Alright, alright, let the court record reflect you’re both morons.” Dustin sighed, peddling between the bickerer’s bikes and cutting ahead.

All four boys skirted to a stop outside the trailer park. Dustin wiped at his forehead under his cap, the humidity creeping back up on them as soon as the air stopped it’s rushing by.

“Dude, if Eddie wasn’t picking up the phone, well, there’s probably a reason for that.” Lucas said, in that tone of his. The demeaning one.

Dustin just shook his head. Name one good reason to ignore your party? One good reason. Dustin certainly couldn’t!

He started walking his bike up through the dusty lot, leaving the rest with little choice but to march ever onward.

“Maybe he’s still sleeping.” Will said, lingering a bit behind the pack.

“At 1 in the afternoon?” Lucas rolled his eyes.

“What? He does, like,” Mike’s voice dropped to a paranoid whisper. “weed, right? Jonathan’s always sleeping in?” Mike looked behind them at Will, who shrugged.

“Eddie,” Dustin said his name rather uncharitably but he’s at his limit here, really, he is “has been dodgy weeks now. Doesn’t answer the phone, he’s never free on the weekend, never hangs out after Hellfire anymore - I’m telling you guys, somethings up.”

“Or maybe - he’s finally graduated after the third try and he’s tired of hanging around high schoolers all the time.” Lucas rolled his eyes.

Dustin shook his head at Lucas, because that can’t be it. Eddie loves them. Well, he loves Dustin and likes the rest of Hellfire’s fresh meat well enough. They bonded, alright? - after everything they went through in the Upside Down. Hell, they’re practically brothers. And it’s not just Dustin who thinks that, Eddie had said it first. Well, he called him ‘the little brother I never wanted’ but had said so sarcastically. Obviously, he’d meant the opposite.

Hard to feel wanted right now though, considering as of circa maybe a month ago, Eddie’s been MIA. He still shows up to Hellfire, obviously. But that was about it.

After stopping the clock on the apocalypse and banding together to clear Eddie’s good name, it kind of become a thing - Eddie taking them out to get slushies after a game. Calling up Eddie to tell him, not ask, but tell him they were all going to the arcade. He’d even gone to Eddie’s trailer a few times so he could help Dustin homebrew his subclass!

Steve had started tagging along too, usually. Him and Eddie even getting started to get less awkward around each other after a while. Not best friends or anything, Not like Dustin was hoping. But friendly. It had been totally awesome! And totally annoying that he had mysteriously gone to ground.

It’s possible Dustin’s being, well he doesn’t want to say needy...

It’s just, Steve started picking up extra shifts at work and spending a whole lot of time with Robin. Not that Dustin didn’t support their relationship. Steve’s been single so long, it hadn’t started verging on pathetic exactly, but it was a near thing.

It’s just hard for a guy not to feel neglected.

The four boys had almost reached the trailer when they heard it. At first Dustin dismissed it, surely the trailer next doors’ doing. But no, that music definitely coming from Eddie’s.

That in and of itself, wouldn’t be unusual. Eddie is likely the loudest human being on the planet. No, the weird part is it’s not thrashy, garbage can lid, Eddie-music but goddamn…

“Is that - “ Mike said, trailing off from sheer befuddlement.

“Culture Club.” Lucas could barely hide the cackle in his voice.

“What in the -“ Dustin muttered, throwing his bike in the grass and wandering up to the door like it was a gate to another dimension. For all he knows, it might just be.

“Eddie?” He knocked on the door. Nothing. He tried again. Obviously, someone’s home.

Dustin’s only met the man briefly but he didn’t take Munson Sr for being the bubblegum pop type.

Besides, Mr. Munson certainly wouldn’t be playing anything this loud unless those late nights at the plant had him going deaf. Dustin peeked through the window into the living room. More nothing.

“Oh man.” Lucas shoved him to press his face against the glass too. There was a slow smile creeping across his face, like he was suddenly overjoyed they had come to the trailer park after all. Lucas wasn’t gonna let their DM live this one down, not any time soon. “I thought he was supposed to be cool.”

“He is cool.” Mike said.

Dustin just sighed, threw his hands up, and started rounding the corner of the RV. Eddie’s van was here, ergo Eddie. Dustin was sure he’d be lurking around here somewhere. The rest of the boys followed, their previous hesitation now nowhere to be seen.

“Come on.” He gestured towards the window. They all leaned in and Dustin was already furiously rapping on the window. “Ed - “

Dustin’s eyes went wide. And maybe his face a bit pink.

Eddie was here alright.

He was laying in bed. Very much not alone. There were two of them, lying in bed together. They were under the covers but Eddie was sprawled out on top of someone, a thick curtain of hair hanging over both faces. Clearly, ew, kissing, based on, and Dustin might be scarred for life here, a hand gripping Eddie’s hair at the base of his neck.

As for the tunes, the obvious culprit was in the corner of the room. Eddie’s little cassette stereo.

“Eddie?” Dustin blanched before he could stop himself. And it was of course, in that exact moment Culture Club decided to betray them and the tape cut out.

Will went to shush him, grabbing his shoulder to drag him away but oh no, Eddie definitely heard something. The guy squawked and jolted up in bed, swooping the covers up to hide them both in their immodesty. Eddie’s eyes peaked over his elbow like a vampire leering over his cloak. He gaped at the window, clearly rather horrified.

The boys all threw themselves out of the frame, Dustin pressing up against the back of the trailer.

“What the fuck - “ he heard Eddie say. “What the fuck.” He sounded almost angry but closer to panicked. There was a vague whispering match, but whispering was never really Eddie’s strong suit, so they heard him just fine.

“Relax.” Eddie said, though he did not himself sound relaxed. “No, it’s fine. We’re cool. You need to - I need you cool right now.”

They heard something like a grown man crashing off the bed and gracelessly hit the floor.

“I know, I know, I know. I know! Christ, I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t - I’ll deal with it. Just - “

The boys were already turning tail and scurrying back to their bikes. Gone entirely red in the face.

“I told you this was a bad idea.” Mike said, the hypocrite bastard.

“No you did not!” Dustin huffed.

The front door swung open with a bang and Eddie came spilling out towards them as he, oh gross, scrambled to get into his jeans. He was still shirtless and sweaty, hair fluffed up like an angry cat. Looking rather frantic.

“It’s not what it looks like!” He actually looked properly pissed, hands shaking with it as he did up his fly.

“We didn’t see anything.” Lucas put his hands up, but the guilty way he refused to meet Eddie’s eyes kind of gave up the game.

“Nothing!” Will squeaked, beet red and squeezing his eyes closed tight. Just in case they hadn’t made themselves look incriminating enough.

“God, of all the shit fucking timing -“ Eddie’s fist clenched up in front of him and he let out a frustrated noise, eyes darting around the trailer park. “Look I can explain. If you just, ergh, give me a minute to think of something.”

“No need! We didn’t see anything, promise.” Mike assured him again, his voice nearly steady. Good for him.

“Right so. I guess, did I mention I’ve take up recently taken up semi pro Grecian wrestling - “

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Dustin couldn’t help interrupting him. Lucas smacked him. He gave Lucas a face, which was returned, so Dustin did it again even harder. But fuck Lucas cause it may have been the right thing to say. Eddie stopped fluttering, looked right at him. Squinted, scanning his face.

“You know you can just tell us. If you did. You could have just told us in the first place.” Dustin didn’t get why Eddie wouldn’t. Did Eddie think this kind of thing was too ‘grown up’ for them. They were high school freshman for Christ sake! The only one of their little crew who didn’t have a girlfriend was Will. And I guess Steve.

Allegedly.

Of course, Dustin didn’t believe that for a second.

“I - what?” Eddie perked up.

“If you had a girlfriend. Do you? Is that - “

Eddie huffed out a hysterical laugh. It was weird. But then, Eddie wasn’t exactly the poster child for Normal. Dustin crossed his arms.

“Sure. Yeah.” He took a big breath as he looked behind him back into the trailer. “I have a... my girlfriend.”

“Sorry. For coming over.” Will said, timid like a mouse.

“It was Dustin’s idea.” He took Mike for many things but never a rat. Dustin sputtered indignantly, throwing up his hands.

“And we didn’t even see anything, really! So if you’re worried about your girlfriend’s modesty, like - we didn’t see anything, we swear! Right guys?.” Lucas insisted. Mike and Will bobbleheaded in agreement.

“What the hell are you squirts doing here, anyways?” Eddie said, scrubbing roughly at his forehead.

“I needed to get my binder.” Dustin said flatly. And maybe to remind Eddie that hey, he’s still here too. Like, right here.

“Your fucking - “ Eddie said in disbelief, and then he laughed. “Your binder.”

“You weren’t answering the phone.”

“Yeah well I was busy.” Eddie said, eyes wide and awfully antagonistic.

“Busy getting busy.”

Eddie turned his wild eyes on Lucas

“Thin ice, Sinclair. Thin fucking ice.”

That just made him chuckle again. At least he half tried to hide it behind his hand. But Lucas always was the least cowed by Eddie.

“Is this why you haven’t been hanging around anymore, like all month.”

“Jesus. Henderson, I’m sorry, ok? Hard as it is to believe, I do have a fucking life outside the game.” Yeah, Dustin thought, it was pretty hard to believe. “Look, just give me a second.”

“I’ll be quick - “ Dustin made a move to come inside.

“No.” Eddie firmly hip checked him out of the way.

Eddie slipped back into the trailer. Through the open door Dustin could just barely make out the words.

“False alarm. No - actually. I’m being serious. They think - “

They think what? Think they have a right to be here at Eddie’s trailer. Taking up space in Eddie’s life. Well they do. The party almost died saving the world side by side with Eddie, they had more right to be here than that - Dustin just grumbled. He wouldn’t call her a harlot. But only because Susie’s voice was already in the back of his head, admonishing the thought.

Eddie came back and pushed the binder hard into Dustin’s chest. He was stumbled back a step. “Now scram.” He said, not leaving room for Dustin to get a word in edgewise.

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been around but I… See you at Hellfire, ok?” Eddie slammed the door in their faces.

“How great could this even chick be?” Dustin frowned. Great enough to edge the party out of Eddie’s life it seems like.

The other boys just shrugged. They all picked up their bikes.

“I mean, why can’t he just like, bring her along when we hang out or something.”

“I told you, maybe he just wants to hang out with someone his own age for once.” Lucas said.

Maybe Eddie’s too cool to bring his new girlfriend around his dorky freshmen friends. Is he embarrassed to introduce them to her or something.

“Come on.” Will said. “We should get back to Mike’s.”

“Yeah. Yeah whatever.” Dustin said.

———

“So our parents said me and Mike and Lucas could go to the arcade for an hour before it gets dark.” Dustin said to Eddie as they walked through the empty school hallway after Hellfire.

“No can do, compadre. Fight the good fight against those Space Invaders in my steed, yeah?” Eddie grinned down at him over the few boxes of mini in his hands.

Dustin huffed.

“What? Too busy hanging out with your girlfriend? Dustin said petulantly. “Just bring her along if your - “

The three most senior PC’s in Hellfire skid to a stop in front of them. Dustin and Eddie nearly walked straight into the wall of them. It was almost comical the way all their heads swiveled around to oogle at him. Jeff only just managed to choke back a chortle.

Dustin was honestly offended on Eddie’s behalf. Sure, dude was a drug dealing, super duper senior nerd/freak/metalhead combo who had been semi-recently accused of ritualistic dismemberment - but certainly someone was into that.

“My -? Oh yeah my, my - that.” Eddie winced, avoiding many, many eyes.

“Oh, and you have a girlfriend now do you?” Gareth huffed a laugh, in clear disbelief. Eddie glared daggers at him.

Dustin really didn’t see why it was that hard to believe. Eddie was like, really cool. It was an indisputable fact. If all of them could see it, why couldn’t some weird, off the wall alt girl see it too.

“I don’t want to hear a fucking word from you. Any one of you.” Pointing rapidly at all three of them, like he was warding off the words waiting right at the tip of their tongues.

“So who’s the lucky lady, Munson?” Jared said, like he had ‘held action, Vicious Mockery’ and simply couldn’t help himself. He was fighting a positively delighted smile. Eddie flushed.

“The DM giveth and the DM taketh away, and you would be very wise to remember that, Ser Elias.” Eddie said loudly, still jabbing his finger about like it made him more authoritative.

“Sorry man, just joking around.” Jeff grinned good naturedly.

“Yeah, I mean, good for you dude.” Gareth said, with a genuine smile. He tapped Eddie on the chest who childishly batted Gareth’s hand away.

“No, don’t do that. I - seriously guys, we’re not - it’s not like that. I’m not ‘dating’ anyone.” Eddie deflated, looking uncomfortable. The unflappable Eddie, looking all too flappable after all. He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear and huffed. “Just someone I’ve been screwing around with alright.”

Eddie walked past them. Dustin almost felt bad for bringing it up. Almost.

He turned to Gareth.

“So you guys don’t have any idea who it is?”

The guys looked around at each other, all of them shrugging.

“Who knows.” Jared shrugged again, this one still no more helpful than the last.

“Unless,” Gareth straight up giggles, “it’s that suburban mom Eddie’s been swooning over since sophomore year.”

“Yeah right.” Jared chuckled, shoving Gareth forward. They all continued walking.

“That… doesn’t seem like his type.” Dustin said, suddenly confused and perturbed and feeling like he doesn’t know Eddie Munson at all.

“You’d be surprised.” Jared grinned and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

They exited the school just in time to see Steve getting out of the car. Usually after Hellfire he didn’t bother. He just wanted to get the kids rounded up and out of the parking lot as quickly as he could ever really manage. Not today though. Eddie walked to Steve’s Beemer, parked in the stall next to his van.

“Munson.” He said with a small smile. He grabbed one of a few boxes of minis out of Eddie’s arms.

“Uh, Harrington.” Eddie gave a hesitant smile, before bowing his head with predictable theatrically.

“Hi, Steve.” Dustin said from behind. Steve gave him a fond nod before looking back up to the DM.

“So, uh, how was the session?” He said kind of awkwardly.

“Bordering on child abuse.” Eddie beamed.

“I got knocked out, twice.” Lucas windged, holding up two fingers.

“Whatever keeps you humble.” Steve shrugged. He turned back to Eddie. “So. Uh. Any plans for this weekend?”

Eddie blinked, then he raised his eyebrows with a haughty grin. “Dunno, had a few things in mind.” He shrugged.

“Cool. That’s cool. I did too. But uh, then my parents came home from their trip early.” Steve scratched the back of his neck. “So, you know, guess there go my plans for the weekend.”

“Huh.” Eddie frowned. “Bummer.”

“Shotgun!” Dustin decided, throwing open the passenger side door.

Mike, Lucas, and Will who also couldn’t care less about their inane small talk, were already piling into Steve’s car. Steve was lingering though, helping Eddie load his stuff into the van. Dustin’s glad they’re making an effort to be friendly acquaintances, especially since he’s pretty sure it’s mostly for his own sake. But come on, it was like, 3 small boxes. They had space invasions to thwart.

And of course, Lucas was still bitching at Dustin about his failure to come through with a healing spell.

“I’m a bard, what did you want me to do?” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“You have healing word!” Lucas said, to which Dustin roll his eyes. Again.

“Which does like, 2D-nothing!” He looked out the window, wishing Steve would hurry the hell up already. Him and Eddie were still talking? What the hell did those two even have to talk about? Eddie was giving Steve an optimistic grin, but Steve was just shaking his head.

“Cute wounds than!” Lucas groused.

“Well, then you should have thought about that before you went down thirty-five feet away.”

“You could have dashed.” Lucas crossed his arms.

“Ugh. That would have defeated the whole - ugh!” Dustin rolled the window down impatiently. “Steve is it cool if I eat in your car?“ Dustin hollered. He wasn’t actually gonna, he just knew how to get the man’s attention.

“Absolutely not! You know the rules.”

“Don’t worry, it’s just a granola bar! Nature Valley.” Dustin shouted back.

“Don’t even think about it Henderson!” Steve said, already rounding the car. Eddie laughed brightly.

“Harrington?” He said.

“I - Yeah. Fine. Fine, alright.” Steve said to which Eddie smiled triumphantly. That better mean they were done with their little pow-wow.

Eddie climbed into his own vehicle. Steve opened the Beemer’s drivers side door but he didn’t get in yet. Instead he stood there running his hand through his hair muttering something to himself.

“See ya, nerds!” Eddie called out, lowering his own window. There was a chorus of goodbyes from the Beemer. “And Harrington -“ He started the van and a blast of guitar poured out. He smiled that Eddie smile. “You worry too much.” He said. And then he swept out of the parking lot with the sound of his obnoxious music on the wind.

“Yeah. Sure.” Steve said sarcastically. He got behind the wheel, Dustin’s threat of snacking seemingly forgotten.

“What was that about?”

Steve just waved him off and started the car.

Dustin eyed Steve skeptically. So what, were Steve and Eddie like, actually friends now or something?

Maybe he knows.

After a few minutes, Dustin finally broke and asked.

“Soooo, do you know who Eddie’s been seeing?”

“What?” Steve says, nearly swerving over the line.

“Jesus!” Lucas swore from the back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve chuckled awkwardly, eyes now, thankfully, firmly fixed on the road.

“Of course he’s not gonna tell Steve.” Mike grumbled.

Dustin stroked an imaginary beard. The fog of mystery only grew thicker and thicker.

“His secret girlfriend.” Mike said, like a little know it all.

Steve just huffed a, sure.

“I bet she’s like, some badass metal chick.” Mike said reverently, looking out the window. “She probably has like face piercings and crazy dyed hair. Or like a shaved head or something cool like that.”

Dustin sighed. She probably was badass. Way cooler than they were. Way too cool to bring around the dork squad.

“Does that sound like anyone you’ve seen around here?” Lucas said skeptically.

“Yeah, I dunno. Gareth said he was into like… suburban moms.” Dustin grimaced.

“Excuse me?” Steve sputtered.

Will made a disgusted noise.

“I know.” Dustin shivered.

“Better watch out for your mom then.” Lucas snickered. Dustin shot him a dirty look.

“Yeah, no way.” Mike shook his head. “He had to be messing with you or something. Eddie probably has like, groupies and stuff.”

“Please. That man has no game.” Lucas said. Steve snorted but played it off like a cough.

“That man runs the game.” Dustin said defensively.

“You know that’s not what that means.” Lucas said.

“The real question is, how long has this little dalliance been going on for?” Dustin pondered.

“Hey, you nosey little twerps. I really don’t think this is like, any of your business.”

“At least a few weeks right?” Lucas spoke up.

“And how do you know that?” Mike said.

“Cause that’s how long it’s been that Eddie’s been using the phrase ‘busy’ to get out of stuff. I mean he’s a jobless, drug peddling hobo, I don’t think I’ve seen Eddie be busy like, ever.” Lucas said, scratching his chin. “Until a few weeks ago that is.”

Dustin grinned widely. “It’s elementary, my dear Watson.”

“It’s invasive is what it is.” Steve grumbled. “Also, he’s not a hobo. He has a house.”

“Well, I guess, technically it’s a trailer.” Will said, rather pedantically.

“Well, it’s got four walls. And he lives inside them. Ergo…”

“He’s also been a lot nicer.” Will said thoughtfully.

“Huh?” Dustin and Steve said, and looked at him in unison.

“The last couple weeks, don’t you think?” Will said, smiling faintly. “He’s been nicer than usual. Or happier. I guess.”

“I guess.” Dustin said.

“You think?” Steve said.

“Okay,” Dustin should have a houndstooth cap and a pipe. “We have our timeline. Now, we need to root out suspects.”

“Alright, this, whatever this is, stops here. You nosey little twerps need to mind your own business.”

“But - “

“I don’t want to hear it. No buts.”

And that was the end of that. For now at least.

Tag List : @reading-archieves @homoerotictangerine @bingbongsupremacy @aroseandherthorns @wheneverfeasible @travelingtwentysomething @ineffable-monster-romancer @laughingphantoms @gregre369

(Stayed tuned for emotional immaturity! Reply to be added to the tag list!)

[currentfandomkick]

Is it bad i want Damian to see Danny in a fight against Spectra where she actively exploits every insecurity Danny has—he’s neither living nor dead, he’s been rejected by blood and the family that ‘chose’ him as part of him is the very thing they hunt and torture to study.

He may try to help ghosts, but he is still the child of their enemy.

He may try to help humans, but they reject him for every time he’s proven to be as weak and useless as the humans he was half raised and rejected by.

That even his twin resented his existence. That the only three people that liked both sides of him, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker) would leave him in the dust soon as how long can he manage to pass as living? How much longer until he may as well be fully dead as they all die and he remains helplessly between?

Face it little freak, you were born to be left alone, never loved like the brother who was chosen by your blood every time. That he will never be anyone’s choice once they see the truth.

Meanwhile Danny was fully aware Damian is jealous of his powers and wanted to snap at Damian for it but doesn’t. He’s not allowed to as a powered person. As one of the few ghosts/liminals the public sees and can interact with.

Danny is not allowed to show his fear. His resentment of always being rejected. Of being left behind and only accepted in parts and pieces by what he can do for others.

He’s been wondering if Sam only stuck around after his powers because of the heroics or her misplaced guilt the first time she killed him. He did blame the second time on her and she acknowledged it. Was that why she stayed?

Tucker is his best friend. But he’s not going to pretend that then growing apart isn’t a fear of his. Tucker joking that Danny is who he trusts to drag him back to himself whenever his past life’s… power madness returns stings deeper than it should some days.

Jazz wanted a brother but may as well have raised him some days. How long until she cuts him off for being too needy when she’s only two years older than him. How long until she’s tired of his real attitude?

And Damian catching a number of snippets of this fight and having to reconcile a reality he hadn’t considered: Danny’s situation isn’t unlike Superman’s when it comes to the public, but he has no community or support to lean on when he began. It was become stronger and better and a paragon or a fate worse than death.

Phantom is Danny’s ‘customer service’ self now.

And Danny gets to hear in depth how badly Damian thinks of himself and how naturally Danny would have been Robin.

Danny snapping he never would have been Robin or a vigilante period if that had ever been an option, because he never wanted to fight anyone. He just wanted to be a normal kid and study the stars. Combat training was required by his adoptive parents. As was weapon training. He hated hurting people and avoids it where he can as he hates it being a weapon of last resort, and always had.

So Damian’s idea of Danny fitting into Robin? Does get chipped a bit. Danny never would have been Robin if being a civilian was an option.

And Damian gaining an awareness of how privileged it is to have as much training and how large his support in the hero world is, (something he was somewhat aware of) and the fact he doesn’t have to question if Father would ‘vivisect him’ for telling him of gaining powers.

But also? Let Damian be pissed with all his power, skill and ease as a theoretical Robin, Danny would chose to never be one.

Let them resent each other for factors outside of their control, have them confront each other’s reality (Damian never fitting the mold of Robin, always feeling like he has to repent for being born and raised an Al Ghul, constant culture shock, never feeling enough, constant miscommunication in and out of family, knowing/feeling like his father would never choose him, ect.,)

And twist the knife of them having a degree of understanding but that not soothing the jealousy at all, as Damian is jealous more of Danny’s personality and skill than his powers, and Danny is jealous that Damian has the support of a family who (clumsily) cares about him and can actually die.

Al Ghul twin ramblings

Something really interesting about the dpxdc crossovers that have Danny and Damian as twins that I've never seen anyone talk about is the bit of mirroring imagery going on there.

Like, Danny is literally everything that the Wayne family, consciously or unconsciously, would give Damian grief for not being.

He's better socialized, easy to get along with, has the snappy banter and peppy attitude Robin was known for as well as a quick wit that helps him figure out clever ways to deal with difficult situations.

Damian has better training and the attitude rich socialites would expect from a child of a wealthy family, but he's not going to be able to fake the ease and friendliness of his predecessors for a long time, if ever. He's certainly made Robin his own, but he's never going to match up to the picture everyone has in their head of what Robin is supposed to be like.

Does Damian ever think about this? How, if their positions were swapped and Danny had been sent to their Father and he had been cast out to the Fentons, Danny might have taken to the mantle of Robin so much easier than he had?

and if that's true, could Damian say the same? Would he have been able to protect Amity Park while balancing school and a social life, all while keeping himself in check and only using non-lethal force?

Would he have even made it that far, or would he have run away at the first opportunity?

Would he have even been able to survive the accident Danny went through, or would he have burned to a crisp instead?

[luvergirl-866]

something like love

part - 4

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 5.3k

c/w - language, small amount of angst, some hurt/comfort. also kinda problematic paige but i get her

a/n - guess who’s endo cramps are killing her!! that’s right, me! fml. as usual this is unedited but i’ll come back to edit later! also, i changed paige’s step-dad’s name from tim to dean because i remembered that azzi’s dad is named tim and i felt like that would be confusing lol. also, thank you so much for all the fic recs i got! i’m so excited to start working on them :3

They’re ten minutes into the thirty-minute car ride and nobody has said a word. Country music is playing quietly over the radio, and Dean and Amy keep glancing at each other. But the awkward silence is deadly.

Nobody spoke earlier, either. After Paige dropped the bomb. It was silent for a good minute before Dean had coughed loudly and turned back to the car, getting wordlessly into the driver’s seat. Amy stared at them for another minute or so, giving them no clue as to what was going on in her head other than her ears, which rapidly turned bright red. Finally, she’d shook her head and said, “We will talk about this when we get home,” before following her husband into the car.

As soon as they were both out of hearing range, Paige had sagged, and Azzi’d looked over at her, concerned. Usually, she’d lay a hand on her arm but she wasn’t sure if Paige wanted to be touched, especially by her, so instead she’d said, “Remember, we can leave anytime.”

Paige had nodded stiffly. And then, without looking at Azzi, she’d gotten into the car as well, leaving the door open for Azzi to follow suit.

And now they’re on the road, Paige and Azzi sitting in the back seat like two little kids in trouble. Azzi wants to go on her phone to avoid the awkwardness but her parents raised her to be polite, no matter the circumstances, so here she sits, stiff and awkward while she rides in this car that smells new and fancy and she hates it.

Chancing a glance over, Azzi sees that Paige is still staring out the window, the same thing she’s been doing the whole car ride, and Azzi hates that, too, because Paige only ever gets quiet when she’s bone-tired or truly upset. And Paige got a pretty good nap on the plane.

Based off the way she acted to Azzi’s words before they got on the road, Azzi’s pretty sure she’s doing that thing where she shuts people out because she’s mad or on the verge of tears or thinking too hard. And when she does this she can get mean, because she’s trying to protect herself, and it comes out all wrong.

She’s always done this, been reluctant to open up about the hard stuff, shut out the people who care about her. She and Azzi have talked about it a lot. She once admitted that Azzi was the first person to get her to actually talk about her feelings. But despite Azzi’s way with Paige, and despite the fact that they just get each other in a way no one else ever has, they still have their flaws. Azzi still doesn’t always know the right thing to say. And Paige still gets mean.

This fact keeps Azzi glued to her seat, thinking sidling closer and trying to comfort her best friend would only end badly. Azzi acts like she has a tough skin but often, the things Paige says when she gets like this cut deep, and it ends with both of them hurt. She’s scared to add a fight between the two of them onto whatever will surely go on with Paige and her parents later. So she stays put, even though every bone in her body is telling her to make Paige better.

Azzi has only managed this for maybe five minutes when she glances over again and notices that this time, Paige’s hand is splayed over the middle seat, fingers tapping anxiously, almost like she’s subconsciously reaching over. And that sight alone is enough to get Azzi sliding over, moving Paige’s hand so she doesn’t sit on it. Dean looks at her through the rearview, but Azzi pretends not to notice.

Paige doesn’t look over when Azzi settles in beside her. But she does reach blindly for her hand before taking it and placing it in her own lap, playing with the fingers nervously. Azzi breathes in relief. Paige hasn’t rejected her outright—she can’t be too upset. At least not yet.

They sit like that for the remainder of the ride.

When they pull into the driveway, Paige gives Azzi’s hand a squeeze before subtly shaking herself out and exiting the car. Azzi follows, afraid to be alone with Paige’s parents for even a second.

Before Paige can close the door, Amy calls, “Bring your bags into your room, Paige. And when you’re done come down and talk to us in the kitchen.” There’s a weighted pause. “Alone.”

Paige doesn’t answer, just slams the door shut. Azzi winces.

Azzi doesn’t say anything while Paige opens the trunk, or when she starts aggressively pulling their things out, or even when she slams the trunk shut. No, Azzi keeps her mouth shut, wanting to allow her best friend to seethe in peace, but when Paige slams into her shoulder when she passes her, Azzi doesn’t want to let it slide. “Ow! Paige, what the fuck?”

“Get your bags,” Paige responds gruffly.

Okay, so it’s gonna be one of those times. Perfect.

Despite not wanting to, Azzi does as she’s told, gathering her bags and following Paige to the front porch. She tries not to think about how usually Paige would’ve carried her things for her.

Paige opens the door without a word and they walk inside. The house is nice, open, smells of cedarwood. Paige doesn’t give Azzi a chance to look around, though, instead walking briskly to the staircase, lugging her shit upstairs with impressive strength, and Azzi thanks God she’s in such good shape because she’s practically jogging by the time they arrive at a room at the end of the hall.

“Paige—“ Azzi starts to stay, but Paige cuts her off by throwing her own backpack off her shoulder and dropping her suitcases, as if she’s trying her hardest to make as much a ruckus as possible.

Azzi places her things much more nicely on her usual side of the bed, eyeing Paige cautiously the entire time. It’s the only reason she’s able to catch her before she leaves, anticipating her movements just like she does on the court and darting between her best friend and the door, blocking her.

For the first time in nearly an hour, Paige looks her in the eye, and there’s fire there. “Move, Azzi.”

“No.”

“God,” Paige sighs, “seriously, don’t piss me off. Get outta my way.”

“No, Paige,” Azzi repeats, keeping her feet planted.

Paige stares at her and then shakes her head. “Why are you being so fuckin’ annoying?”

“Don’t,” Azzi says, trying to stop her before she gets too fired up, but it’s already started.

“No, Azzi, you don’t,” Paige snaps. “I knew you were gonna get like this, do your fuckin’ peace and love shit that you think will solve everyone’s fucking problems.”

Azzi swallows hard. It’s been years since Paige went on a rampage like this, and she opens her mouth to stop her, but is quickly interrupted.

“It doesn’t solve anything, dawg. It actually makes shit worse, because it’s so motherfucking annoying having you acting like everything’s fine when you don’t even know.” Paige shakes her head, taking a step towards her. “And that’s the thing, is you really don’t know but you wanna pretend like you do. You don’t know what it’s like to have your mom fuckin’ leave you for some fuckass guy, for her to have new kids outta state and raise them to be hateful just like her. Just like him.”

At this point, Azzi has tears in her eyes, and she attempts desperately to swallow them down. “Did you forget that my dad fucking left me when I was a baby? I’ve never even fucking talked to him, Paige. He doesn’t want shit to do with me.”

“That’s not the same and you know it.” Paige sends her a withering glare, so different from the way she usually looks at Azzi. “You have Tim. You have your mom and your brothers and they all love you so fucking much.”

“You have your dad!” Azzi responds, throwing her hands in the air. “You have Drew, you have Alora!” A tear escapes, against her will, and she wipes it furiously away. “You have me, Paige,” she says, more quietly now. “I love you so fucking much. So you don’t get to take this shit out on me and say mean things to hurt my feelings. That’s not—it’s not fair.”

As soon as she sees the tears welling in Azzi’s eyes, Paige softens, her shoulders slumping, eyes turning on her with guilt rather than venom. “Az, don’t cry.”

For some reason, this makes Azzi more mad, and she turns away to face the door, always having hated crying in front of others. “Well if you say mean shit to me, I’m gonna cry, Paige,” she mumbles, though there’s not much fire to her weak, shaky tone.

“Hey, no, you’re right,” Paige reaches for Azzi’s shoulder, trying to turn her around, but the tears have started now and they’re not going to stop anytime soon so Azzi stays turned firmly away. “Azzi, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“ Paige cuts herself off on a sigh. Her hand falls off Azzi’s shoulder, and for a second Azzi thinks she’s going to walk away, but then a pair of arms wrap tenderly around her waist and Paige’s chin is wresting on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—I was wrong for that, I shouldnt’ve said any of that shit.” When Azzi doesn’t respond, instead burying her face in her hands to try and hide what she’s sure is an ugly cry, Paige squeezes her tighter. “Azzi, please don’t cry, I’m really sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry, for real. I didn’t mean any of it, I was just so scared about my parents and I took it out on you, I fucked up.”

Azzi nods into her hands, taking a deep breath to try and stop the embarrassing flow of emotion. “I know, Paige,” she tries, but it comes out sort of as a whimper and this only makes Paige circle around to stand in front of her, full-on hugging her now, burying her face in her neck and rubbing her back soothingly.

They’re silent for another moment before Paige says, “I’m serious, Az. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Azzi knows this, fundamentally, but there’s still a part of her that sort of cracked at hearing her best friend tell her that she was annoying, that her efforts to help always fall flat. “You shouldn’t have said it, then,” she stutters, letting Paige hold her close even as her face doesn’t come out of its hiding spot.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have. You’re the only person who can ever make me feel better and I—fuck. Azzi, I’m sorry, I can’t believe—I never wanna hurt you.” Paige lifts her head out of her neck to nuzzle into Azzi’s hair, pressing a kiss to the spot just behind her ear. “Never wanna make you cry.” She plants another kiss there, and Azzi’s breath hitches. From the crying or from something else, she doesn’t know.

Sighing shakily, Azzi finally pulls her head out of her hands to look up at Paige, placing her hands at her chest almost as if she’s about to push her away. She’s sure her mascara is ruined by now but she can’t bring herself to care too much. “It really hurt when you shoved me outside, too.”

A pained expression flits over Paige’s face, and she nods, looking almost sick. “Fuck. I’m—I’m sorry, Azzi. I’m so sorry. Is your arm okay? Does it still hurt?”

Azzi can’t take the guilty look on Paige’s face and shakes her head no. It doesn’t seem to relieve much of anything.

Breathing deeply, Paige closes her eyes and then leans her forehead against Azzi’s, bringing her hands up from her waist to stroke over her tear-stained cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispers, and Azzi’s knows that the nickname wasn’t a slip-up this time, wasn’t just a habit from their pretending. “I’m really fuckin’ sorry.”

And with that, Azzi isn’t mad anymore. Her feelings are still hurt and the things Paige said are still going to replay in her head for quite some time, but at least for now, Azzi just can’t be mad. Because Paige is going through something she could never imagine going through.

“I’m sorry, too,” Azzi breathes, and Paige rears back, but before she can protest, Azzi says, “about your parents. About this whole…situation.” She looks down at her hands on Paige’s chest, and, deciding she won’t be needing to push her away anymore, she slides them up to her shoulders. “It’s shitty and you’re right, I don’t know what it’s like to be in your position.” She shrugs, swallowing back the last couple tears that threaten to fall, trying to regain at least some of her composure. “I’m going to be here for you, okay? I always am.”

Paige nods. “I know you will.”

“And that means,” Azzi goes on, “you can’t do this again. You can’t take it out on me. You can’t push me away. Because that makes it really fucking hard for me to help you, and I want to help you.”

Paige nods again, more solemnly this time, moving her hands back to circle her waist. “Yeah, yeah, I know, and I’m so sorry for—“

Azzi holds a hand up to Paige’s lips, effectively shutting her up. “Okay, stop. I accept your apology, I promise. Just, show me you’re sorry and don’t do it again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Paige says. “��Course.”

“Good.” Breathing mostly even now, Azzi pulls Paige in for another hug.

With a heavy sigh, Paige hugs her back. “We’re in it together, hm? From now on, together.”

Azzi rests her cheek on Paige’s shoulder, the weight of her arms around her, the feeling of her skin and bones, so familiar. “Yeah. Together.”

Paige pulls back just enough to look at her, and when Azzi reciprocates, she’s uneasy to find that Paige is giving her that same new look. The perplexed, maybe enthralled?, almost worried look that has taken over her face more often than can be explained ever since the first time after their kiss. Azzi really wants to work out what it means.

But, as always, Paige corrects herself and it’s gone as fast as it arrived. “We’re good?”

Azzi nods, smiling softly despite herself. “Yeah, P. We’re good.”

—————————————

Paige has been downstairs with her parents for nearly an hour.

From what Azzi can hear from her spot at the top of the stairs, it doesn’t sound to be going too well. The three of them keep going from yelling to whisper-yelling to yelling again, and Azzi swears Amy has cried like five times at this point.

When Azzi hears Dean say, “We just don’t allow sinners in this house, Paige,” and Paige snap back, “Do not use God against me right now!” Azzi figures it might be time to intervene.

Trying to come up with something quickly, she pulls out her phone and dials Paige’s number. She hears Paige’s phone ring downstairs, and the three of them go quiet before Paige says, “Just—one second,” and then there’s a click on the other line and she’s answering. “Um, hi?”

“Pretend I’m your dad,” Azzi says, hoping she’s not on speaker.

“What?”

“Just pretend I’m your dad, Paige. Seriously.”

“Uh, okay.” The line gets a little muffled and Paige says, “It’s dad.” Azzi can hear both Amy and Dean let out audible groans downstairs.

“Okay, now tell them that I—your dad—am offering to fly you home.”

“I…wha—“ Azzi can tell Paige wants to argue but can’t with her parents right in front of her, so instead she sighs and the line goes muffled again. “He’s, um, he’s offering to fly me home.”

Azzi only has a second to hope and pray that Amy shares Paige’s competitive nature before Amy is saying, “What? You told him about this?”

“No,” Paige answers, “he just knows how you’re like now. And he wants Azzi and I to have a good summer, not a shitty one with shitty people.”

“If you want to go back to your dad’s, go,” Dean says, and Azzi’s heart sinks. Maybe this won’t work.

But then, bless her evil, horrible soul, Amy is stepping in. “No. Absolutely not. I will never hear the end of it if we send you to your father after inviting you over. We just…” Amy sighs, and Azzi thinks she can hear her start crying again. “We want what’s best for you, Paige.”

It’s silent for a moment. And then, “Let me be happy, Mom. Let me see my siblings. Let me and my girlfriend have a good trip with y’all.”

Dean interjects. “We really don’t believe in this kind of stuff.”

“I don’t care,” Paige replies viciously. “I love Azzi. It doesn’t matter that she’s a fuckin’ girl. I…” Paige pauses, quite abruptly, and Azzi wonders if something happened. But then she hears a heavy inhalation and a quiet, “I love her, Mom.”

Azzi knows it’s for the act, but she can’t help the way her stomach somersaults, hearing the words she’s always wished Paige would say.

“And it doesn’t matter what you think of it,” Paige continues. “I’m happy. My faith is strong. And what goes on between me and God isn’t your fucking business.”

“Language,” Amy says immediately. But then it’s silent for another weighted moment and Azzi can imagine Amy and Dean sharing that knowing, judgmental look of theirs. Her heart races while she waits for a consensus, and she’s sure it’s 100 times worse for Paige. But after a few moments, Amy says, “Tell your father that you’re staying here with us. Your siblings will be home tomorrow morning. The four of us adults have a reservation at a restaurant tonight, and we’re all going to go.”

“Mom—“

“We will try,” Amy sighs. “Azzi’s a nice girl. We will—we’ll try.” There’s something tired in her voice when she says, “Right, Dean?”

No answer. But Azzi can imagine him nodding gruffly, and a moment later, with no more words from any of them, Paige appears at the bottom of the stairs. She startles a little when she sees Azzi sitting there at the top.

“Hi,” Azzi says sheepishly, finally disconnecting their call. “I was eavesdropping.”

Paige stares at her, and then starts climbing the stairs, a small smile overtaking their face. “Thanks for saving me.”

“I told you I would,” Azzi replies, waiting for Paige at the top. “So. Dinner with your parents tonight.”

“Yeah. I guess.” Paige gets to the second-top step and stays there, so she’s just a little shorter than Azzi.

“Dinner as a fake lesbian couple with your homophobic parents,” Azzi clarifies, and Paige laughs nervously.

“Uh-huh,” she responds. “I think we needa nap before that.”

“Oh, yeah,” Azzi agrees, pulling Paige up to stand with her. “That is an amazing idea.”

——————————————

Azzi is rudely awoken to none other than an old Tyler, The Creator song blasting through the tinny speakers of Paige’s phone. Azzi groans, and she blindly reaches out for Paige to turn the damn thing off, but her hands only find cold bedsheets. Annoyed, Azzi cracks her eyes open and tries desperately to find Paige’s phone, realizing in the process that Paige’s side of the bed is cold. Strange, considering they still have two hours until dinner.

Finally, after probably thirty seconds of this stupid song playing over and over again, Azzi finds the phone tangled up in the bedsheets and slams the off button. It’s sort of pointless, though, because now she’s very much awake and will not be going back to bed.

She sits up in Paige’s bed, rubbing her eyes and looking around the room. The sun is shining through the curtains, reflecting off the mirror above the vanity and showcasing the off-white walls, the pink door to the adjoining bathroom—which Azzi now realizes is in use, the sound of the shower muffled through the door. She hadn’t noticed before because Paige isn’t awfully singing to some Mariah Carey song. Other than the water, it’s dead quiet in there. She must be nervous.

Fiddling with the pink sheets, Azzi feels nervous, too. Usually, merely being in Paige’s space comforts her, but this room—it doesn’t feel like Paige. It doesn’t smell like her, and it’s too pink. There’s no purple at all, actually. And the vanity—Paige has never known how to do much else other than mascara. In high school, she needed Azzi to tell her what concealer was for, and to teach her how to curl her lashes. She certainly wouldn’t have use for an entire vanity dedicated to makeup. The walls are also decorated with cringy, sort of Bible-thumping quotes and paintings of flowers. There’s not a single basketball poster.

No, this room isn’t Paige at all and Azzi feels an ache in her heart, thinking about how out-of-place she must have felt whenever she came to visit as a kid. How out-of-place she must feel now.

Without Paige to talk to, and without her room to comfort her, Azzi settles for laying on Paige’s side of the bed, burying her face in the blankets, and there she is—vanilla, like her hair products, and lavender, like the lotion she wears and the linen spray she uses, because it calms her down.

Azzi thinks she just might fall back asleep, enveloped in Paige’s scent, but then the door to the bathroom opens and steam billows out just before Paige does, wrapped in a towel, hair wet down her shoulders. Azzi only has a second to ogle the water drops adorning Paige’s collarbones before she’s spotted, and Paige gives her a curious look. “You still sleep? I left my phone here so the alarm would wake you up.”

“Yeah, no, it did,” Azzi says, sitting up quickly, before she looks like a weirdo snuggling up in Paige’s spot. “Just tryin’ to hype myself up for dinner.”

Paige gives her a commiserating look. “Me too. I’m shitting my pants, for real.”

“That why you couldn’t sleep?” Azzi asks, stretching out her back and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

Paige hums, bending down to rifle around in her suitcase. “I’on even know what to wear. Apparently it’s some fancy restaurant but I’m not wearing a fucking dress.”

Azzi laughs at that, lifting her hands when Paige shoots a glare over her shoulder. “I’m serious, dawg! And it’s not like I brought a suit or nothing.”

“I think you’re overthinking it,” Azzi says, standing up. “Just wear jeans and tuck a t-shirt or something. You’ll look cute no matter what.”

Paige straights up and gives her a cocky grin. “You think all that?”

“Chill, P,” Azzi rolls her eyes, shoving Paige’s shoulder a little.

“What were you doing on my side of the bed, anyway?” Paige asks, and Azzi can’t help the way she freezes. She’d thought Paige hadn’t noticed.

Trying to cover her reaction, she shrugs casually. “I didn’t know you owned the right side of the bed.”

“Nah, we’ve always had our sides,” Paige shakes her head, taking a step closer. “Why was you all cuddled up in mine?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Azzi says, trying for sarcastic but she can’t even really make eye contact, “maybe I rolled over or something.”

“Please. You don’t move in your sleep.”

“Maybe I do. You don’t know.”

“I think I’ve slept with you more often than I’ve slept alone,” Paige scoffs, taking a step even closer so that they’re practically chest-to-chest. “I know damn well.”

“Okay, seriously,” Azzi says, taking a small step back and stumbling when her thighs hit the bed, “go get dressed, you weirdo.”

“Mm,” Paige says, pretending to think about it. But before Azzi can move away, she grabs her waist and they both fall onto the bed while Paige starts to tickle her like crazy.

“Paige!” Azzi screams, laughing so hard she almost can’t breathe. “Get—off, oh my God!”

Paige is laughing right along with her, and it’s a miracle her towel hasn’t dropped yet. “Tell me the truth!”

“What the…” Azzi giggles and squeals when Paige goes for her armpit, “fuck!”

“I won’t stop ‘till you admit it!”

“Okay, fuck, okay!” Azzi pushes Paige off her, and Paige lets up just enough for her to gasp and say, “It smelled like you, okay? The sheets, they…” Paige has stopped completely now, staring at her with a shit-eating grin on her stupid face, “they smell like you.”

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies, “and you missed me so much while I was in the shower that you needed to smell my sheets?” She jabs her one more time in the ribs, making Azzi shriek, before rolling off her. “You lil creep.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Azzi insists, even though that’s exactly what it was like. “Now, seriously, go get dressed. You got me all wet.”

What Azzi means by that, of course, is that Paige’s damp towel and sopping hair had transferred to Azzi’s own clothes and hair. But Paige can’t be normal about anything, so she looks over and grins slyly.

“Don’t,” Azzi sighs.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Paige says, sitting up in bed and pulling Azzi up with her. “You don’t gotta be embarrassed. I know I make a lotta girls wet.”

“Stop being weird,” Azzi says, as Paige bends down once again to pull an outfit from her suitcase.

She begins walking back to the bathroom. “I’m not the one who gets turned on by tickling,” Paige calls over her shoulder. Just before she closes the bathroom door behind her, she says, “Don’t worry, we can take care of you after dinner, mama,” and winks at her.

Azzi’s shoe hits the door just as it clicks shut.

—————————————

They drive to the restaurant in silence.

It’s similar to their car ride from the airport, though it is a little less tense than before. Paige isn’t fidgeting too much beside her and her parents aren’t giving each other looks the entire time. That’s gotta be a good sign.

When they arrive at the restaurant, Amy and Dean start chatting idly, Paige and Azzi trailing behind when they walk inside the fancy building and give the hostess their reservation.

It’s only when they’re finally seated that they are addressed.

“So, girls,” Amy says, her voice all forced cheerfulness, “what looks good?”

“I dunno,” Paige mumbles, and Azzi kicks her under the table before saying, “Have you guys ever been here before?”

Amy looks a little startled at Azzi’s voice, but she recovers quickly, looking over at Dean with a forced smile. “Oh, yeah, we come here sometimes.”

Azzi smiles politely. “What do you suggest, then?”

“Um,” Amy says, and then she sort of jerks and Dean winces, and Azzi’s sure Amy has also just kicked him under the table.

Apparently well-trained, he speaks immediately. “We love the spinach ricotta.”

Azzi hums, then nudges Paige. “That sounds good, right?”

“Uh…” Paige looks like she wants to be difficult, but then she sees the warning stare Azzi is giving her and straightens up a little, “yeah, yeah. Sounds good.”

“Wanna share?”

Paige sighs, but luckily it’s barely audible. “Yeah, sure. Let’s share.”

Azzi leaves herself out of the conversation after that, letting Paige answer her parents’ conversation starters. When the waitress comes to take their orders, Paige gets a glass of wine for the both of them. Neither of them really like wine, but it seems classy enough and it might take the edge off just enough that they can actually get through the night unscathed.

It’s not until their dinner arrives that Azzi is addressed again.

“So, Azzi,” Dean says, out of nowhere, “How’s the knee?”

Azzi’s hand goes subconsciously to her surgery scars. “Doing better. PT’s been going good.”

“Good, good.” He leans back in his seat, and Azzi senses trouble. Something about the way Paige protectively rests her arm across the back of Azzi’s seat makes her think she senses it, too.

“You get injured a lot, huh?” He asks.

Azzi sort of hates the way her face gets hot, hoping it doesn’t show up on her brown skin. “I’ve torn my ACL twice, yeah.”

“And your meniscus, right?” he prods.

Without really noticing it, Azzi looks over to Paige, and that’s apparently all Paige needs to jump in. “Hey, let’s not talk about it.”

“Why not?” Dean asks, scoffing. Amy is looking between the three of them nervously. “It’s hard not to talk about. Azzi, you don’t even play basketball at this point.”

“Um,” Azzi replies, her instincts telling her to get hot-headed but with the way Paige is buzzing beside her, she’s gonna need to keep her cool.

“What the hell?” Paige says, her hand going from the chair to Azzi’s shoulder. She looks at Amy. “Mom, you said this wouldn’t happen.”

“Your father is just asking a few questions—“

“He’s not my fucking dad!” Paige exclaims, and Azzi jerks as she’s pulled into Paige’s side. “I already have a dad! He raised me, he loves me, Mom, and he’d never say this shit about Azzi.” Angrily, Paige stands up, tossing a few bills onto the counter and helping Azzi to stand beside her.

“Sweetheart,” Amy says, reaching limply for her daughter while Dean sits beside her looking far too smug. “Paige, where are you going? We’re your ride.”

“We’ll Uber,” Paige responds, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s waist. “I’m not gonna make her sit through your bullshit because you don’t know how to act like a decent fucking human being.”

“He was just asking—,” Any starts, sounding exasperated, but Paige cuts her off.

“You know what he was doing.” She glares at Dean, who shakes his head, smirking. “We’ll go back to the house,” she sneers. “But if this doesn’t change by tomorrow we’re leaving.”

And with that, she takes Azzi hands and leads them both out into the night.

—————————————

Paige keeps it together until they get to the house.

As soon as they’re stepping through the door, she turns away from Azzi and leans down to untie her shoes. Azzi does the same, but she doesn’t miss the sniffling sounds coming from her best friend.

Paige refuses to look at her when they start heading upstairs, and she tries to make a beeline for the bathroom once they close her bedroom door shut behind them. But Azzi stops her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “P?”

Another sniffle. And then a quick wipe at her face before she’s turning around, trying to look nonchalant but her eyes are red and her lip is trembling. “Yeah?”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, and Paige crumbles, hands coming up to her face as she starts crying.

Azzi steps forward to hug her, pulling her down to hide in her chest. “I’m sorry, P. I’m so sorry, this—this sucks.”

“I’m sorry,” Paige replies, voice all small and muffled in a way that makes Azzi’s heart hurt. “I thought they were gonna try…I wouldn’t have taken you out with them if I knew…”

“Hey, it’s all good,” Azzi responds, running a hand through Paige’s hair. “I didn’t mind, really. I’ve heard worse.”

This is apparently the wrong thing to say, because Paige just cries harder. “Fuck, Az, you shouldn’t have to do this.” She lifts her head up to look at her, and Azzi absently wipes her face. “This sucks. It’s the first week of summer and I—I was shitty to you and now my parents, and I—“

“Paige,” Azzi says sternly. “I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I couldn’t handle it. I can handle it. It’s you that I’m worried about.”

Paige nods, sniffling again. “You don’t gotta worry. I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not fine, P,” Azzi says, and Paige winces, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her shirt.

“I’m okay,” Paige insists. “Really. As long as we do this together, I’m okay.”

She straightens up like she’s steeling herself, and Azzi thinks maybe she should do the same.

This is only the first day of their two-week stay.

It’s going to be a long trip.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa

[gothamhappiness]

I like to flirt with you, Red Hood! (Jason Todd x f!reader)

This is part 2 of this imagine

Warnings: no proof reading, fluff

Red Hood insisted on bringing you back home that night. He had no idea how to thank you for what you did for him, so making sure you arrived safely at your place was the least he could do. Your presence was bringing him a new kind of peace he never felt before as well.

If you always felt safe on his territory, you felt even better by his side. You felt like nothing could happen to you. You were at ease with him, you just hoped Batman didn't hurt him too badly. You walked as close as possible to him without touching him. The warmth of his body was smoothing you in the cold night surrounding the two of you.

You both stayed silent as Red Hood was following you home. Once you arrived at your building, you offered him to come upstairs with you because "he was a great bodyguard", and then you offered him to get inside because "he needed to get some rest".

Red Hood stayed a few instants without reacting, as you were gesturing for him to get inside. He peered inside your flat before his eyes went back on you.

"You really trust me" Red Hood quietly commented

"You're the only person I trust in this city" you proudly admitted "But you, do you trust me?" you asked

Red Hood entered your home, without thinking. It was rare to be able to trust someone so quickly in Gotham. But you both wanted to take the chance.

Or maybe it was simply love at first sight.

You closed the door behind him, giddy he was there, in your home. You always had a crush on him, he was so tall, so strong, so violent and yet so kind. He had this aura of danger and yet, now he felt like a protector. A guardian angel.

"Can I take care of your wounds? Or at least offer you some food?" you asked

"Food would be nice yes" he hummed

"No worries. Settle on the couch while I cook something away. You can play with my switch or watch the TV meanwhile" you replied

Jason had pushed his luck by accepting the food. He half wasn't believing you were truly going to make something for him. It all felt like a dream anyways. None of this could be true, so he should enjoy it while it lasted, he thought.

He removed his helmet, and a black domino mask greeted you. You smiled at how smart the man was.

After a little while, he helped you dress the table and you both settled to eat the food you prepared. You usually were too tired to cook anything after work, but it was different with Red Hood in your home. You wanted to look after him, like he always looked after the people living on his territory. It was the least you could do.

You waited for him to taste the food, before starting to eat. You were ready to get him something else if it wasn't to his liking.

"This is good" he praised you as he brightly smiled at you

"Glad you're enjoying" you replied and you started to eat as well, hoping he didn't notice how flushed your cheeks got at his compliment and smile

You finished to eat in a comfortable silence. Red Hood had too many thoughts swirling inside his head to hold a conversation, but you didn't mind. You were happy he was here.

You didn't find him intimidating at all.

Especially not when he insisted to help you with the dishes, no matter how much you protested. You both liked the sort of domestic vibes it had to it. Your shoulders touched at some point too. Red Hood almost broke a glass then and you teased him.

Before letting him go back outside, you gently put a hand on his arm:

"I know we don't know each other, but my home is always open to you... If you need somewhere to crash at, just knock at the door or at the window" you smiled

"Keep your window open then" he replied as he put his helmet back on to hide the blush appearing on his cheeks.

You nodded and smiled even more. You couldn't express how excited your were getting.

Without any warning, he softly grabbed your hands and gave you a little device with a red button on it. You looked up at him with a curious look written all over your face.

"If you're in trouble, push the button. I'll find you and keep you safe" he instructed you and your eyes lit up

"What if I just want to see you again?" you cheekily asked

"Push the button too" he hummed before looking away

Even with his helmet on, he couldn't hide the effect you were having on him. He thought it should be illegal for sure an attractive woman like you to flirt with him like that. How was he supposed to no completely become putty in your hands?

Damn, he couldn't be falling in love so easily. So quickly.

And yet, here he was.

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

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This part 2 was requested by @jasontoddsthunderthigh, hope you enjoyed!

[paulyenvol6]

Used

You're craving your husband's attention but to your misfortune he has to leave to meet his friends so you start to sulk. Daemon has a solution though and suggests that they could simply join you in your activities....

Contains: detailed smut, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, foursome, p in v, unprotected sex, possessiveness, degrading, gagging, crying, sub!reader, spanking, dirty talk, words like slut and whore

Wordcount: ~6.38k

Masterlist

Please send me your requests, I need inspiration!!!!!

"It's so fucking hot today, gods.", Daemon murmured as he walked up and down restlessly.

It was afternoon, the time of the day when your husband always talked and talked while you were trying to relax especially on days like this.

"But I can smell thunder. A good rain is what the city needs right now." You rolled your eyes which he couldn't see and put the book you had previously tried to read back on the shelf.

"Yes. I agree."

Daemon heard in your tone that you were annoyed and turned around to curiously look at you.

"What is it?", he asked and you shook your head smiling lightly.

"Nothing. I just realized that apparently right now is not the time for me to read."

He raised his eyebrows and looked caught. "Oh. Sorry, love."

But you didn't care now anymore and opened your arms to signalise him to come to you. He understood and stepped in front of you so you could rest your head against his chest. That was the moment when you truly forgot about your book because his presence felt so comforting and good that you quietly hummed to yourself and closed your eyes. Now you wanted nothing more than to be with him, feel him in every way possible.

"Daemon…", you mumbled and he stroke the back of your head.

"Mhm?"

"I want you." You felt lazy and a little tired but it was the kind of mood in which you craved sloppy sex with him. Slow and calm movement when you were both just enjoying each other and took your time with everything.

Daemon leaned down to kiss your head. "I want you too. But I have to go soon."

His words made you abruptly pull away from him and the crease between your brows deepened.

"Where?"

He caressed the side of your face. "I'm meeting Aston and Jarak in the city."

You let out a dramatic cry and pretended to sob in your hands which made Daemon chuckle and he took your hands so he could look at you.

"Darling.", he tried to get your attention.

But you sulked at him. "Please. I really want you, Daemon. So badly."

He now looked like he was in pain but still soothingly ran his thumb over the back of your hands.

"Just wait until I'm back. I'll take care of you then, little one."

But you wouldn't give up yet. You needed him and you would do anything it took to have your husband all to yourself. He wanted to meet with two of his friends who also served as warriors of the city watch and of course that usually wasn't a problem to you but not tonight when you felt so aroused. So you bit your lip while running a hand down your body to open the first buttons of your light summer dress.

"I don't think you know what you're missing, husband.", you whispered. "You could do anything you want to me. Whatever it is you desire. I'd be at your mercy, doing and taking whatever you want. Do you know what I have to do to fulfill my needs while you're gone? You couldn't expect me to wait for hours when I need it so badly… I'd have to take care of it myself with my own hands though I know that you can do it so much better."

Daemon closed his eyes and you could see in the way his chest heaved and lowered itself so rapidly that he was turned on which was exactly what you had intended to do. But then he opened his eyes again and had a mischievous smile on his face. Daemon leaned down so his mouth brushed over your ear while softly squeezing your hand.

"I mean that would be very irresponsible of me, right? Well… I do have a solution, little girl.", he stated and you curiously met his gaze. "You know… they could come here to the keep and… join us."

His last words were almost inaudible but you understood them all the same and its content made your heartbeat fasten. You had done something like that twice before. A year ago had been the first time and it was Daemon who had suggested it. He liked the idea of other men joining the two of you and watching them pleasuring you. He had only two rules: They weren't allowed to come inside of you and they weren't allowed to make you come either.

For Daemon the first rule was easily justified as he simply didn't want you carrying another man's child. The second one was a bit more twisted but Daemon was very possessive over you and your pleasure and he wanted to be the one making you see stars.

You were very open about it as well and after your husband and you had communicated about it you had decided to try it. The first time you did it, only one other man joined you, Orwen a good friend of Daemon. Your husband had made clear that in the end it was still him and you who were in charge and that Orwen was to stop whatever it is he is doing when he or you told him to. He had agreed to that and the three of you had spent a beautiful night together.

Afterwards you were very fond of it and had told Daemon that you would like to try it again. And though he had made clear that he could still satisfy you all by himself (by actually showing you that he could), he was on board and only shortly after that you had tried it a second time, that time even with two more men.

Now you nibbled at your thumb and thoughtfully observed your husband. It was a tempting idea you had to admit… You were aroused and needy and you knew his two friends from the city watch so things wouldn't be too awkward. Daemon sensed your indecision, sat down on a chair and gestured you to climb on his lap. Once you straddled his thigh he brushed over your head and examined you closely.

"We don't have to.", he spoke quietly. "Only if you feel like it."

You bit your lip and then smirked croakedly. "I want to."

And it was the truth. You felt like being intimate with Daemon and two additional men excited you as well. You trusted your husband completely and knew that he would probably behead any man who did something that happened without your consent. He would make you feel good while looking out for you and protecting you if there was need for it.

"Really?", he asked once again and you nodded determinedly.

"Yes. I do." He smirked and his hand wandered to your arse to squeeze your flesh softly.

"I will invite them then, my sweet girl. Let them have a taste of your cunt." He stroke your skin. "Let them feel your tight hole. But they're not gonna make you come, is that clear?"

Once again you nodded and couldn't surpress a quiet moan because his hand that was only on your thigh already turned you on so much that you couldn't think straight.

"No else is gonna make this cunt come but me. That's my fucking job. Do you understand me, little one?"

"Yes Daemon.", you pressed and leaned down to kiss your husband.

You spent a few more moments in this position feeling the warmth in your chest and stealing little kisses from him until Daemon told you he was going to meet his friends now and then take them to the keep if they agreed. Unwillingly you got off his lap and sat down on your own chair while watching Daemon gathering his things. Your eyes were yearning for him which didn't go unnoticed by your husband and he chuckled quietly.

"Are you done now?", he asked and you snapped back to reality.

"What?"

Daemon's laugh intensed and he walked over to you to kiss your forehead. "Oh my sweet girl… Are you that eager?"

You nodded with flared eyes while pressing yourself against Daemon's hand that held the side of your face.

"I'll be back soon. With company."

You returned his wide smirk and then watched your husband leave your chambers. Once he was gone you dropped your shoulders and looked around in the room unknowing what you could pass the time with now. But then your gaze quickly returned to your book that you had previously put down after Daemon had interrupted you over and over again and decided to read a few more pages.

That turned out to be a bit of a difficulty because now that you knew what would happen in a matter of minutes, it was hard to concentrate on anything that wasn't your husband's slender fingers, his toned abdomen, his skillful mouth and his thick cock. It felt like torture awaiting his arrival and your eyes wandered to the closed door every few seconds. After a while you put down the book because it was hopeless and instead you stared down to watch the sun lowering itself until it hit the horizon.

Only then did you finally hear steps outside your door and excitedly jumped from your chair. Adrenaline made your toes curl and you felt your heart beating fast in your chest. You glanced in the mirror one last time, made sure your hair wasn't too messy and adjusted your dress and then the door opened and Daemon strut inside. As soon as he saw you a smirk appeared on his face and this time you felt like he was undressing you with his eyes.

"My beautiful wife.", he said loudly and right now you only had eyes for your husband so you didn't pay any attention to the two men following him. He walked towards you, possessively wrapped his arms around your waist but then turned the two of you to the guests.

Aston was a tall man whose dornish descent was visible in his dark features and eyes so black that you couldn't see his pupils. As fit for a warrior he had broad shoulders and hands that looked like they could strangle a man in seconds.

Jarak was a little shorter with light hair but looked equally muscular. His piercing eyes were of a light blue and every time he looked at you, you felt like he could see right through you. But he was a kind man and it was rare for him to ever keep a straight face as he laughed about anything and everything.

In fact both men were familiar to you because they had been being your husband's best friends for a long time. The only thing that would change now was the fact that you were about to get intimate with the both of them and considering their beauty and their trained bodies this thought aroused you. But your priority was of course still Daemon next to you. You knew that you would never meet someone who would make you feel what he made you feel. No matter how pretty or strong they were.

His thumb now slowly drew circles over your skin on your waist through the fabric of your dress while Aston and Jarak approached you and bowed their heads.

"My princess.", each of them said and you smiled graciously.

"Ser Aston. Ser Jarak. It's a pleasure to welcome you here."

Daemon to your left smirked smugly and pulled you closer to him. "Ser Grandon!", your husband then shouted. "Close the door."

The knight positioned by the door to your chambers bowed and then the four of you were to yourselves. Your eyes rested on the knights again who observed you heatedly and Daemon kissed your forehead.

"I think there is no need for further courtesies, is there?"

Jarak shook his head smiling. "No, my prince."

"Good."

You were absolutely taken with Daemon's words because you simply couldn't wait any longer so you reached up to press your lips on your husband's to involve him in a aroused kiss. In the meantime your hands wanted to cup the side of his face but he was quick to take hold of your wrists and hold them down in front of your body.

"Oh little girl…", he purred against your ear. "Did you forget your manners?"

You were confused and anxiously wondered what you had done wrong while Daemon gently pushed you towards the bed. Once your legs hit the edge of it he finally answered you and caressed your cheek.

"You know who's in charge here, mhm? You know that all you're gonna be tonight is a fuck toy for us. Three nice holes for three men who are starved for a pretty girl's body."

You shivered at his words and felt that sensitive spot between your legs starting to pulsate more intensely.

"Come over here.", the rogue prince now demanded of his friends and they couldn't wait to follow Daemon's command. "What are we gonna do first? What do you want from her, my dear friends?"

Your eyes switched between the three men and you felt so vulnerable and small and yet so confident at the same time. Daemon's words obviously were degrading and supposed to make you feel like you were totally under their control and just here to fulfill their needs but you also felt hot and strong that way. It was odd and weird but just as much as you enjoyed it when Daemon was fucking you slow and nice, whispering praising words and compliments in your ear and holding you gently in his arms did you love it when he was rough and hard with you. Throwing you around and bending you to his will, punishing you when you were bad and taking you like you were a cheap whore rather than his wife and princess.

Aston put his hands to his hips and tilted his head. His eyes wandered down on your body and you shyly smiled.

"What if she sucks us off first. Maybe while one us eats her out."

You pressed your thighs together at the image in your head and just hoped that your husband would agree. Daemon actually nodded and his hand wandered to touch your shoulder.

"Why don't you get on your hands and knees, little girl? You can sit on one our faces while sucking another off. How does that sound?"

You merely loved the way that even when Daemon was being dominant with you he still made sure that you were comfortable at all times so you nodded with big eyes feeling overflooded with love for your husband. He misunderstood your mimic though and worriedly soothed your collarbone.

"What is it, sweetling? Are you fine?"

You swiftly nodded. "Yes. I just… I love you Daemon.", you breathed quietly which made him smile and he held your head to his chest for a brief moment.

"I love you too, sweet girl." He was relieved now and gently rubbed your arm. "You wanna get on the bed now?"

You nodded and obeyed and positioned yourself on your hands and knees as he had requested it. Daemon watched you with dark eyes and then looked at his friends.

"I'm gonna have a taste of that cunt.", he stated and climbed on the bed as well while Aston was the first to crawl to kneel in front of you.

"Open your mouth, pretty girl.", he growled and in the way that he looked at you, you knew you weren't his princess anymore. Now you were their whore, but no part of you had a problem with this fact.

You did as he commanded and the man quickly pushed two fingers past your lips. He immediately went all the way until he hit the back of your throat.

"Let's see how well you can take it." You gagged a little but kept your eyes on Aston while he slightly turned his fingers in your mouth.

"Good girl. Very good."

While Aston toyed with your mouth Daemon had positioned himself on his back underneath you so your core was hovering above his head. He had soothingly caressed your clothed hips and arse and now gently pushed you down so your cunt was available for his mouth.

"Come on.", he hissed and you felt his fingers digging in your flesh. "Sink down on my face, darling.", he demanded and so you did.

You felt this familiar fluttering in your stomach because he had eaten your cunt so many countless times already that you knew what you were in for. He was incredibly skilled with his tongue so from the moment the tip of his tongue connected with your still covered pearl you couldn't surpress the little sighs leaving your mouth.

He softly ran his tongue over your nub and the slight touch would have made you jump if his hands didn't hold you down. And then you felt another pair of hands running over the side of your body. Jakar had sat down next to you and massaged your belly and your tits and now Aston prepared himself to get his cock pleasured. He opened the lacing of his pants, removed the breeches and freed his half-hardened cock.

"Mhmm… I know that you'll do such a good job. Cause you're a good little girl, aren't you?", the man whispered as he took hold of your chin but you couldn't answer him because Daemon's mouth felt so good on your cunt that all you were able to do was let out quiet moans.

"Already too fucked out to have a straight thought.", Aston chuckled and then ran his thumb over your lips. "Open."

You obeyed and he smiled as he let his cock enter your mouth. He was big but not as big as Daemon so you knew you wouldn't have any problems satisfying him.

"Fuck.", Aston cursed and his hand went to grab the back of your head at once. He held you in place while thrusting in all the way until he hit the back of your throat.

"Oh seven hells. What a tight fucking throat."

You watched him as you held back your gagging reflexes. He had his eyes closed and his jaw was tensed and you knew that it would be an easy job to get him to release. It was difficult to concentrate at times though because Daemon's mouth felt so good on your pearl that you restlessly moved around on top of him. But Jarak took this job now and kept you in place by placing his knee underneath your upper body and wrapping his arm around your belly to press and cage you between his arm and his knee.

In the meantime he toyed with your nipples and soon everything was so much for you that you couldn't hold yourself properly up anymore. That was to Daemon's fortune though because he loved it when you were so weak and powerless at some point that you just sank down on his face without caring whether he could breathe. You always feared he would suffocate but your husband liked it the most when you just relaxed on top of him so he could bury himself in your warm and sweet cunt.

"So sweet, gods be good.", he mumbled and gripped your hips tightly.

"The gods really were good when they made this little slut of a girl. So innocent from the outside but such a nasty whore between the sheets.", Aston cursed and sank so deep inside of your mouth that you choked and tried to flee from his cock. But his hand in your hair was too tight and you didn't have a chance when you tried and fight his grip. Tears welled in your eyes and you felt a little panicky which Daemon noticed by the noise you were making.

"Aston. Careful. I don't want you to seriously hurt her."

His friend nodded unwillingly and loosened his hand that had grabbed a fistful of your hair. You pulled away from him and loudly gasped for air while trying to collect yourself. Aston didn't give you a lot of time though because he immediately shoved his cock back into your mouth, more gentle now. You twirled your tongue around his tip knowing well how much a man liked that and in the sounds Aston made you knew he was close. But before he could release Aston suddenly gripped your head.

"Let's turn her on her back."

You felt the touch on your cunt stop and immediately let out a whine but then Daemon gently took hold of your hips, pushed you down and then turned you on your back. Now you could look at the men towering over you and saw the gentle smile on your husband's face.

"Are we all good?", he asked and you excitedly nodded.

"Yes. Please Daemon, I need more."

His smile intensed and he then crawled to lay between your legs to continue his meal. He circled and pressed with his tongue against your pearl while collecting your wetness to savour the taste. You were dripping, soaking his lips and chin with your arousal and Daemon enjoyed every second of it. He was determined to make you come so you were all wet and puffy for their cocks.

Meanwhile Aston had crawled to kneel diagonally over you so his cock could slide into your mouth from atop. It hit the inside of your cheek with every thrust and at this point you could simply relax and let him use your mouth. Jarak welcomed this new position as well because he had better access to your chest now and his hands massaged and kneaded your breasts. And then Aston finally came and let out a growl as he shut his eyes and threw his head back.

He ejaculated on your lips and chin and you let your tongue lick over your lips a few times to taste his salty seed. Aston smirked, grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to look at him. Then he spit down on your face so his saliva mixed with his seed and let out a chuckle.

"That's the picture of a dirty little whore. And that's where you belong cause you love it, right? Fucking pathetic helpless slut."

You clenched around Daemon's finger that he had now inserted inside your whole while his tongue continued to play with your pearl. You were so close to releasing now and just hoped that your husband would let you. Aston wrapped a hand around your throat while observing you smugly.

"You're gonna come for us now, little one? You want to soak your husband's face? But do you think you deserve it?" You swiftly nodded with big eyes and but then shut them as Aston had delivered a soft slap to your cheek.

"Then come on. Release for Daemon."

And you did. Daemon wrapped his lips around your little nub and sucked softly which sent you over the edge and your whole body started tensing and trembling.

"Oh fuck.", you cried and wrapped your legs around Daemon's head. "Daemon, oh gods."

While panting heavily you sank back down and relaxed your hips that you had arched while feeling the warmth spreading in your body.

"Good girl.", you heard your husband pur and then he crawled up until he was hovering over you.

"Yeah. That's it. I know you can be sooo good for us. Doing exactly as you're told. S'what you like, don't you?"

You nodded weakly with half-closed eyes and then Daemon ran with his thumb over your jaw.

"You want to be fucked now? Want your holes filled by us?"

You heard Jarak chuckle and move on the bed and then a hand grabbed your hips.

"I bet she wants to be torn apart by us. Stupid whore."

You let out a little moan and clung to Daemon's shirt.

"Please…", you whined and he raised his eyebrow. "Please what?"

"I want you. Please I want to… want to feel full." Your voice was barely more than a whisper and yet your husband understood all of it. "Don't you worry, little one. You'll feel full."

And then Daemon crawled off you and Jakar roughly pulled you to him by your hips.

"I need this fucking hole now, gods be good."

You were on your back while he adjusted you to your liking. He kneeled on the bed between your spread legs and ran the tip of his cock through your folds.

"Yeah.", he moaned. "You're gonna take it, right? Gonna take it like a good obedient pet until we're satisfied."

Your eyes fluttered when his tip brushed over your pearl and then you felt a hand on your shoulder and you immediately knew who it was. You would've recognized Daemon's hand among thousands. He caressed your skin and you welcomed his touch so much that you put your hand on his.

"Oh my sweet girl.", he whispered.

Then Aston took his place next to you as well and he started by kneading and massaging your already sore breasts and nipples but he did it with a sensual gentleness that you were soon to softly sigh each time that he circled your nipples. Jarak now patted the tip of his cock at your entrance while already panting heavily. Daemon's hand was still on your shoulder but he raised his gaze to determindely look at his friend.

"You're not gonna come inside of her. Is that clear?"

Jakar chuckled and looked down to where his cock collected your wetness.

"Yeah. Didn't know you were so possessive though."

Your husband suddenly grabbed Jarak's shoulder to make him meet his gaze. "I'm being serious, Jakar. You're not gonna fuck her if you can't give me your word."

"Alright, alright. I won't."

Daemon nodded contendly and freed his shoulder and instead went back to soothing your skin and head.

"Everything fine, love?", he whispered and your eyes found his.

"Yes, Daemon."

Jarak used these very words as his invitation to work himself into you tight hole and your eyes fluttered at the stretch.

"Ughh…", you whined and though he went slowly and you were more than wet you felt your legs shiver at the slight pain. But then Jarak had entered your cunt and it simply felt overwhelming to be filled like this.

Daemon had stroked your hair and shoulder the whole time while Aston's hand toyed with your breasts and nipples but only now were you able to really perceive your surroundings again. Feeling needy, you reached out to your husband hoping he would give you something else in order to show you his affection. Your watery eyes met with his and your hand tightly wrapped around his fingers while you were pushed up on the bed as Jakar had found a quick and intense pace.

"What do you need, y/n? You want my cock in your mouth? Taking two cocks at the same time like a slut would do?"

You let out a moan caused by a sharp push in your core but quickly Daemon had your full attention again.

"I want it. Want your cock."

And so he was happy to oblige and hastily removed his breeches. His hard cock was a familiar sight to you and Daemon chuckled when he saw your hungry eyes. Aston had observed your encounter and delivered a harsh slap to the side of your arse that made you whine.

"One cock is not enough for you, right?", he smirked but you were too focused on your husband's member. You wanted to reach out to touch him but he quickly took hold of your hands and pressed them to your chest.

"Shh.", he cooed you and came closer so his tip was touching your lips. "Open."

As soon as his words had left his mouth you parted your lips and Daemon slowly shoved his cock in your mouth. It was overwhelming with your mouth being so full while another cock destroyed your cunt but in the best way possible. Your eyes fluttered and you let out a soft moan which Daemon commented with a soothing touch on your head.

"I know you can take it. Just stay still and relax." You concentrated on breathing through your nose until you had gotten used to his seize and your husband started to slide his cock in and out of your mouth.

"That's it. Good girl, I knew you could do it. S'like you were made for my cock."

He watched you with slightly parted lips and now and then a sigh left his mouth that was music to your ears. Nothing in this world gave you more pleasure than seeing him enjoy your mouth or your cunt like this and knowing that it was you who managed to make him feel this way made your heart beat faster.

But Daemon was quick to remember to make sure that you received pleasure as well becaus right now your pearl was throbbing for touch and your husband noticed that by the way you were shifting your hips. He stroke your cheek lovingly and then ran his finger down over your throat.

"Need a hand, little one?" You couldn't answer for obvious reasons but tried to nod and luckily Daemon understood.

So he reached out between your legs where Jakar was still pounding your cunt and had his head thrown back, too caught up in his ecstasy to pay attention to what was happening. Daemon found your bundle of nerves in a matter of seconds and started to rub it in the exact right pace. It was soothing yet intense. Calming and yet it fueled your desire even more. You wanted to moan, tell him how good it felt but his cock in your mouth surpressed every sound escaping your throat so you could only hum around him which sent vibrations through his member.

You were just in the right rhythm with his cock hitting the back of your throat each time which triggered your gagging reflex now and then but you managed to keep him in. But then all of a sudden you saw Aston move towards the end of the bed in the corner of your eye.

"I need to fuck that cunt now, Jarak.", he said and his friend smiled crookedly. He moved out of you and made space for Aston who inserted himself inside of you with a deep growl.

"Fucking hells. Ohh that's a tight little cunt. Take it slut."

Now it was his cock who stretched your walls as he was a little bigger than Jarak and you squeezed your eyes. Your hands reached out to grab at Daemon's hips and he chuckled down at you.

"My sweet little pet.", he purred. "So needy and eager to be used."

You gulped and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Not because you were in pain or uncomfortable but because everything was so much and intense that you just felt like crying. Jarak, who now had crawled to kneel next to your body noticed your tears and removed one with his finger.

"Mhmmm… oh no. Tears? So fucking helpless and pathetic. You think it will make us stop?"

You sniffed but shook your head which earned you a soft slap on your cheek by Jarak. Daemon on the other hand stopped his movement for a moment to examine your face for any signs of how you were feeling. As much as the both of you enjoyed this kind of play your well-being was the most important thing for him at all times and so he searched for your eyes with a serious look on his face.

"Is anything wrong? Do you want us to stop?" His eyes danced over your heated face but you quickly shook your head and twirled your tongue around his tip. Then you let him slide out of your mouth so you could answer him.

"No. I'm fine." Your voice sounded a little croaky but he believed you and seemed relieved. He continued to use your mouth while rubbing your pearl and Aston between your legs picked up his speed as well and roughly thrusted into your hole. But it didn't last long because soon Aston tightly gripped your hips and grinded his teeth as he looked at Daemon.

"I need to stop. Otherwise I'm gonna come."

And so the man slid out of you and took a step back as though he was afraid he would burst if he was close to you. You sensed that your husband was close to reaching his high as well but once his friends had said these words he pulled out of your mouth and gently caressed your jaw.

"I'm gonna fill your cunt with my seed now, little girl. M'gonna breed you so you're gonna be swollen with my child. Do you want that, sweetling?"

You were beyond fucked out at this point and yet his words were clear to you so you nodded and watched him with half-closed eyes as he crawled to lay between your legs.

In the meantime Jarak and Aston had taken his place to your left and right and took turns fucking your mouth. Daemon ran his tip over your swollen cunt and stopped at your overstimulated and sore pearl which made you whimper.

"Fuck.", you whispered. "Please, Daemon… Please I need it so badly."

Though your mind was foggy the thought of him pounding your cunt was so appealing and sweet that you couldn't think about anything else. As much as you liked it when he brought more men into the bedroom, Daemon was your man, the person that knew you the best. The person that you simply loved and being connected with him like that now was what you just needed.

"It's alright, doll.", he whispered as he massaged the flesh of your thighs. "I know what you need. I'm gonna give it to you."

And so your husband slowly inserted himself into the tightness of your cunt and cursed out when your walls wrapped so nicely around him. It was pure heaven and definitely his favourite place in the world.

You inhaled a few times adjusting to his seize but because you were soaked and already prepared from Aston and Jarak you started moving your hips after a few seconds and Daemon understood it as your wish for him to start fucking you. And so he thrusted deep inside of you while holding on to your soft thighs and whispering phrases of praise.

You would have liked to answer him and tell him how good everything felt but your mouth was occupied with his two friends who continued to assault your mouth until your throat was all sore and hurting. But they didn't stop, even when you were gagging and gasping for air. Jarak held your head in place by gripping a fistful of your hair while Aston toyed with your nipples.

"Come on, little one.", he grunted and smugly watched his cock entering and leaving your mouth. "Take it. Until we'll release all over that pretty face. You want to be painted with our seed?"

You only hummed against his cock and then he switched with Aston so it was his cock now stretching your throat.

Meanwhile Daemon had started to circle your pearl with his thumb so you would be able to reach your high again as well. You could sense that your husband was close in the way that his thrusts became sloppy and his pants grew louder.

"You're gonna come, little girl? Want you to come with me.", he growled and because you couldn't answer you arched your hips to meet his thrusts. His finger pressed into you little bud and then you cried out at the same time as Daemon let out a "Fuck" and threw his head back.

You collapsed and your heart was beating quickly while Daemon's seed filled your cunt to the brim. You were so focused on your own release that at first you didn't notice the way Aston and Jakar were pumping their cocks in front of your face. But then they grunted deeply and you felt their seed spilling on your lips and cheeks. They had released all over your face and panted heavily when they were finished.

"Oh gods…", Aston sighed and sat down on the bed. There was silence in the room now as everyone was trying to regain their breaths and the next thing you felt was Daemon crawling up to you. You thought that you probably looked horrible with your face being all sweaty and heated and then his friends' seed on your face but you were too exhausted to really care so you let Daemon pull you to his chest. You clung to his shirt and inhaled his scent until he pulled away again to examine you for any signs of uncomfortability.

"How are you feeling?"

You looked at him with big eyes. "G-Good.", you whispered and he realized that you were feeling little at once.

"You need to cuddle a bit?", he said quietly and you nodded your head.

Daemon once again held you close to his body and then he turned around to speak to his friends.

"I need to take care of her now, alright? She's fine, she's just feeling little right now."

You couldn't see their reaction but felt hands caressing your hair.

"You did so well, princess.", Aston smirked.

"Good night, y/n. Hope to see you again soon.", Jakar added and you glanced up to them.

"Goodbye.", you breathed with a smile while you still pressed yourself to your husbands chest and then the two of them left your chambers. Once they were gone Daemon crawled to lay with his back against the headboard not without letting go of you.

"Daemon…", you whispered and he toyed with strands of your hair.

"What is it, sweetling?" 

"I need you… Need you to stay here with me."

He chuckled softly and made you look at him.

"Of course I'm gonna stay here with you. Don't worry. I love you, my sweet girl. More than anything."

His answer satisfied you and you closed your eyes. "Promise?"

"Promise."

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 3

Summary: Joel and Y/N force themselves to get over their tension while they spend time together with their children at the Christmas event. Talking about their past awakens feelings inside of both them that they haven't felt for each other in a very long time.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Negan Smith (mentions), Lydia, Carl Grimes, Peter, Elizabeth, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/154729198

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Unprotected P in V, Rough Sex, Car Sex, Public Sex, Grumpy Joel, Loads of Angst, Bickering, Spanking, Slight Choking, etc.

Notes: This chapter starts sweet, but then it just becomes absolutely filthy. Lots and lots of smut. There are also incredible amounts of angst that are in this chapter with the two characters talking about their past together. There is NO Negan in this chapter, but they do talk about him a little bit. Thanks for reading!

Things were quiet. And not the comfortable kind of quiet. When Joel agreed to bring Y/N tonight, he never really considered how weird it would be having her here. It had been a while since they had spent time together like this out with the kids. Sure, Peter and Elizabeth brought two of their friends. Which meant they were distracted, but that also meant that it left Y/N and Joel alone together. Because of how things had been, Joel was uneasy with talking. Then again, he wasn’t really good with talking to begin with. But having an in-depth conversation with his ex-wife didn’t seem like it would be too easy.

“I was surprised that you accepted the offer to come tonight,” Joel walked side by side with Y/N with their children and their friends in front of them. On the ride to the historic village, they didn’t really talk much. The children did most of the talking and they just listened. Once they got in, things were awkward with the silence so Joel did his best to start a conversation. “I thought you would be too tired.”

“You’re surprised that I wanted to spend more time with our children?” she smirked, gazing over at him when Joel rolled his eyes with his own ignorance. Of course she would jump at more time with Peter and Elizabeth. Especially during the holidays. She was a good mother that loved her children very much so thinking back on it, that comment was kind of stupid. Joel shoved his hands into his pockets and she could tell that he was uncomfortable. “I was surprised that you allowed them to ask me to come. I realize that there are things you like doing with them alone.”

“They were pretty insistent,” Joel retorted with a frown, nodding forward toward where there children were looking. The village had old homes and buildings that were decorated to match the year and location of what it would have been like at that time for Christmas. Each section was lit up differently. The children seemed more interested in it than Joel did since he was trying to strike a conversation. “They want us to spend more time together as a family.”

Hearing him refer to the four of them as a family was strange because that wasn’t typical for Joel. Especially over the last few years. There was a clear separation between them with the children and that was something she had grown used to.

“I hate to admit it, but I ate most of the cookies you sent over,” Joel informed her with a weak smile seeing the amusement in Y/N’s eyes. Changing the subject to something more innocent seemed like the only way he knew how to keep the conversation positive. “Once I start eating them, it’s just addictive and I can’t stop.”

“And that’s why you’re getting soft,” Peter blurt out, turning on his heel hearing his father talking about the sweets that Y/N had sent home with him. Joel was surprised that Peter was paying attention to his comments at all since their son had a friend with him. Reaching out, Peter poked Joel in the stomach causing a scoff to fall from Joel’s throat. All four of the children giggled at Peter’s comment. Even though it was dark, Y/N imagined that Joel’s cheeks flushed over with red from embarrassment.

“Just wait until you’re older like me,” Joel grumbled stepping forward to place his hands in over Peter’s shoulders to give them a squeeze. “Sure, you’re skinny now, but once you get to my age you’ll see that it’s not as easy to keep the weight off. I reckon my body is average in the belly area.”

“Not if you keep up eating those cookies like you have,” Peter pointed out with a simple shrug, still working to tease his father. This was their attitude though. Peter and Joel would always give each other a hard time. In fact, Peter reminded her a lot of what Joel was like when he was that age. Except, Peter wasn’t as angry or closed off. Their banter drew Elizabeth’s attention and she also seemed amused with the joke that Peter pulled on Joel.

“Do you think I’m getting fat?” Joel directed the question at Elizabeth, who immediately shook her head and raised her hands up. Trying to opt out of the conversation all together. Elizabeth had no interest in getting into this or getting in trouble with Joel. “Come on Ellie, you’ve always been my biggest sidekick.”

“I’m taking no part in this,” Elizabeth choked back on her words, doing her best to hold her laugh in. All of the children seemed entertained that Joel was getting so worked up over the idea of being softer in the abdomen area. “I fully believe you still could knock out all my friends’ fathers. Does that help?”

“Yeah Mr. Miller,” Elizabeth’s friend blurt out, her head nodding when she gazed back at Joel. Throwing her arm up in the air, she pretended that she was flexing and scrunched up her face. “You have got those guns. So trust me, no one is going to be looking if you have a little bit of a tummy. They are going to be totally distracted by your arms.”

“Thanks Lydia,” Joel huffed, not certain of how he should feel about hearing that. There was the creeped-out factor that Elizabeth’s friends were checking out his body in any fashion. What had started as a joke had become successful in making Joel feel awkward. Especially since they had all confirmed he was a bit squishy in the middle. “I think.”

“Plus a lot of people really like your butt,” Lydia attested causing Peter to groan out at Elizabeth’s friend drawing attention to Joel’s body again. Y/N laughed at the outburst from the seventeen-year-old, noticing that Joel was incredibly embarrassed. “It stands out. And most people very much enjoy looking at it.”  

“That’s not funny,” Joel countered looking over at Y/N who was trying to bite back on her laugh. Just the thought that young girls were scrutinizing his body made Joel uneasy. “You shouldn’t be looking at my…at my butt.”

“Yes, please refrain from talking about my dad’s ass,” Peter scoffed out with a disgusted sound hearing his friend that he brought with him giggling. “Carl, it’s not funny. You wouldn’t want me talking about your mom’s breasts.”

“Peter!” Y/N corrected her son’s behavior watching Peter’s arms immediately fly up in defense of himself. The expression that Peter gave her reminded her of Joel when he was younger and did something cheeky. It almost wasn’t fair how much both Peter and Elizabeth looked so much like Joel. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m just saying Mr. Miller is one of the dads we actually enjoy looking at,” Lydia addressed the situation and Elizabeth eagerly tried to hush her friend. “It’s a compliment. You should feel honored to know that.”

“I don’t…I just…” Joel shook his head, noticing that they had stopped in front of one of the old homes that they were allowed to go into. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that? There was no easy way to respond to something weird like that. “I don’t.”

“Come on,” Elizabeth groaned, dragging Lydia into the house with Peter and Carl following not far behind. By the expression over Elizabeth’s face? She was embarrassed by what Lydia had said too. Under their breaths, the two girls seemed to bicker with one another, but Lydia didn’t seem angry. In fact? She seemed amused.

“You’re one of the hot dads,” Y/N teased Joel, nudging him with her shoulder hearing him groan out. This was not a situation that Joel was comfortable with. And he was probably thankful that they were taking their time in following the children into the home they were walking through. It kept some space from Lydia who had a hard time not saying exactly what was on her mind. “It is a compliment in some fashion.”

“I’m one of the younger dads,” Joel corrected her with a grunt, keeping far back enough so that when he whispered to Y/N only she could hear him. “You’ve seen most of the dads at the school functions. Most of them are a lot older than me. We had Elizabeth when I was twenty. So of course they are going to be drawn to the younger father.”

“Right, and even those that are your age aren’t as good looking as you,” she reminded Joel, lifting her hand to playfully pinch at his cheek. The glare she got from Joel’s dark brown eyes had her laughing out. There was a lot of color in his cheeks expressing just how mortified this whole thing made him. “I’m sorry. I think this is great that you are so embarrassed.”

“Well, I got called fat and then found out that seventeen-year-olds are checking me out. I don’t know how to handle that,” Joel professed, his hand placing in over the lower part of his abdomen seeing her eyes follow his movement. “I used to be ripped when we were younger.”

“I remember,” she noted with a smirk. For a long time Joel was slender and chiseled. As a teen and a young adult, Joel was very athletic and proud of his body. It was hard to forget what he looked like when they had first hooked up. Ahead of them, she saw that the children were surrounding a demonstration in the kitchen section of the house they were in. It was someone dressed accurate to the era showing how they would have made chocolate during that time period. Since they were still in the back, she reached up to playfully squeeze at Joel’s bicep. The movement surprised him, his dark eyes narrowing when he dropped his head down to look at her. “I think your arms are much nicer now. You went from a twink to a daddy.”

“Twink?” Joel repeated what she said, amusement flooding his features. Hearing something like that from her was entertaining. Especially since they hadn’t talked much in a very long time. “I’ll take that one as a compliment.”

“You should,” she still found herself amused that the moment got so awkward between all of them. Instead of continuing on the conversation, she moved in behind the children to watch the demonstration. They allowed someone to volunteer to try and they ended up picking Peter after Elizabeth said no. Of course Elizabeth teased Peter while he did it, but it seemed like Peter was enjoying this more as a teenager than he did when he was a child when they’d bring him here. After they were done, they headed out of the house. Everything was so dark which made it hard for Y/N to notice the patch of ice that was right beneath the last step out of the house. It had Joel reaching out to hook his arm around her waist to keep her on her feet. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” Joel hooked his arm with hers to keep a hold on her so she couldn’t fall. “That’s winter for you. Hidden ice, just waiting for you to fall and break something.”

“Second time I almost died today,” Y/N informed Joel knowing that Tommy had been the cause of the one earlier where Negan saved her. “This morning your brother was supposed to be holding a ladder while I was putting lights up and instead, he ran off after his crush. A gust of wind came through and almost killed me.”

“Tommy has a crush?” Joel probed and she was surprised that was the first thing that came to mind for him. “Sorry, he just…he hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

“Yeah. There is a girl that caught his eye. They are having their first date tonight,” she informed Joel who looked confused considering this was something Tommy obviously never spoke to him about. “I helped Tommy pick his outfit.”

“How?” Joel’s face scrunched up, trying to figure that out. Considering Tommy lived in the same house as him and Y/N had never showed up to the house, he found that hard to believe.

“He sent me a few photos and I told him what would look the best on a first date,” she explained to him seeing the sense of jealousy that flooded Joel’s body. It was hard to miss. Joel didn’t like to hear that she knew something he didn’t with his little brother. “Don’t worry about it Joel. I just…am the more romantic one and I think he views me like a mother.”

“You’re not his mother,” Joel clarified, his eyebrows bouncing up. How quick Joel was to remind her of that made her feel bad. Maybe she wasn’t Tommy’s mother, but she was the closest thing he had to one. She had been his adopted parent longer than Tommy and Joel’s parents had actually been in Tommy’s life.

“Yeah, I know that. But I did adopt him too,” she pointed out hearing Joel sigh in response to that comment. A lot of the time it seemed like Joel had forgotten that she adopted Tommy as soon as she could in order to help Joel keep Tommy from going into foster care. They had to prove that they were a family that worked well together. So she had been right there with Joel to be a good parent figure for Tommy. “I helped you raise him, so I’m the closest thing he has to a mom and a mother figure is the kind of person you want to talk to when you are having your first date.”

Joel was quiet. He didn’t know how to respond to the news. Especially since he lived in the same house with Tommy and he had no idea.

“I’m okay by the way,” she interrupted his thoughts since he hadn’t spoke of the fact she almost died. That statement had Joel’s face scrunching up, confused. “No scratches or anything.”

“I assumed you were okay since you were here,” Joel acknowledged, tightening his arm around hers while they walked together. The children headed up to the next building where it was full of a bunch of activities for them to do. Joel and Y/N stood in the back since it was more so a thing for younger people anyways. “Who is his crush?”

“Maria,” she educated Joel about the woman that his brother was interested in. Joel’s face scrunched up like he was trying to picture a face to go with the name. “It’s the mayor’s daughter. Apparently they ran into each other at the diner one night. They talked to each other all night and really hit it off. I guess they have been going there every night since. He seems really hooked on this girl.”

“That’s not good,” Joel claimed, loosening his grasp on her arm now that they were inside away from any ice. “The mayor hates Tommy. Always did. If he fucks up with this girl…”

“I don’t think he will,” she suggested knowing from the way that Tommy was talking about Maria that he really seemed to like her. “It’s not like Tommy’s past fascinations. You should have seen the way he lights up about her when he talks about her. It’s sweet.”

“My brother falls in love fast,” Joel reasoned with her, grumbling under his breath when she started to walk toward a hallway at the far corner of the building they were in. Following her not far behind, Joel could see that she was looking at the photos that lined the wall. “I don’t understand why he hid this from me. I’m his brother.”

“Maybe he thought you would have tried to persuade him not to do it,” she hinted since Joel was already being negative about things as it was. “I think he just wanted to feel good about this whole thing.”

“Are you saying that you think I make him feel bad?” Joel pointed toward the center of his chest, but instead of answering him she gave him a look that made him huff. “What?”

“Nothing,” she lied looking back to the wall and pointed toward the photo that she was looking at. Considering how heated he was getting about Tommy, she was attempting to change the conversation. The entire hallway was lined up with photos of the village’s staff from each year the Christmas event took place. From the very start all the way to the year before this one. “They put the photos of everyone who works each year in here. This was our first year.”

Stepping forward, Joel’s eyes narrowed when he gazed up on the photo that she was pointing at. Chuckling Joel found himself, Y/N and Negan in the back row of the photo, “I can’t believe our daughter thought I was lying when I said he was one of my best friends.”

Tapping his finger over Negan’s face, he saw Y/N leaning in focusing on the photo where Negan had both his arms wrapped around their shoulders pulling them in closer. It made Y/N smile as she looked to Joel again, “You should have seen her face when I pulled out the photos. How old were we again here?”

“You and Negan were sixteen. If you remember my family hooked us up with the jobs to make us feel a sense of responsibility,” Y/N noticed that the children were moving over toward them after they finished what they were doing. All four of them had candy canes in their mouths when they stepped in around them to look at the photo they were looking at.

“Hey, is this you Mr. Miller?” Lydia pointed toward the photo of Joel seeing him nod. “Look at you. Chiseled jawline and everything.”

“And if you look right next to me,” Joel urged his daughter forward so she could see that Negan was between him and Y/N in the photo. “There is the man that my daughter thought I wasn’t friends with.”

“How was I supposed to know you and mom were best friends with Negan Smith? It’s not like either one of you talked about it,” Elizabeth ranted and the surprised expressions on both Lydia and Carl’s faces drew them to both step forward to tip on their toes to eye over the photo.

“That’s Negan Smith?” Carl seemed shocked when he pointed at the younger version of Negan. “Holy shit. You guys are like cool by association.”

“I was a really good baseball player back then too,” Joel announced hearing Carl laugh before silencing himself when he noticed that Joel was offended. “I was. I was really good at football too. I got a full ride to a college with how good I was.”

“Which college did you go to?” Lydia was curious when she looked back at Joel and he suddenly felt small when she asked him that. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Joel seemed to shut down and Y/N picked up on it immediately.

“Joel’s parents passed away and he had to take care of Tommy,” Y/N answered for Joel hearing him clear his throat uneasily. Why Joel was embarrassed about that always confused Y/N. It was something to be proud of. Joel was a good brother. A good family man. Explaining that to people always seemed to make Joel feel bad. “Joel gave up his life for his little brother.”

“And me,” Elizabeth breathed so quietly that maybe only Y/N heard that.

“You were the hotter one back then,” Lydia suggested with an amused breath, completely ignoring the part about Joel giving his life up for someone else. Moving to the side, they went to the next photo and then found the three of them in the photo again. “How long did the three of you work here during Christmas?”

“I worked here until I was twenty-two,” Joel answered, shifting on his feet when he thought back on their history. “Negan stopped working here when he was eighteen because, well…I’m sure you know his history.”

“Where is he?” Carl stammered when they got to the third photo that included them in it. This time Y/N and Joel were up front, but there was no Negan. Y/N stepped in beside the photo and pointed to Negan who was at the opposite end of the photo pressing a kiss against a woman’s cheek. “Oh! He found love!”

“We both did,” Joel responded looking at the way Y/N clung to him back then. It made a breath catch in his throat when he looked over at her. “That school year, the two of us started dating and Negan started dating the woman that would become his wife.”

“Why aren’t the four of you together?” Peter was curious since he really hadn’t heard this story either. The only one who had details was Elizabeth. Peter’s brown eyes seem fascinated too when he looked back to the photo.

“We just…” Joel began, swallowing down the lump that grew in his throat. “Grew apart.”

“Love made you not friends anymore?” Lydia blurt out and it had Joel tipping his head from side to side. “Well that’s sad. You’d think you’d all be happy for each other that you found your soul mates.”

Lydia paused, looking back at Y/N and Joel knowing that they were divorced and no longer together. Her face went pale when she thought about what she said, “At the time.”

“What was his wife like?” Carl wondered since all of them were obviously interested in Negan and not so much about their experiences working there.

“We didn’t really know her,” Y/N explained with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Sweet,” Joel commented at the same time she answered. Giving her a look, Joel thought about it and took in a deep breath. “I think we knew her decent enough. She talked to us a few times. I thought she was nice.”

“Sure, we talked to her some, but we really didn’t get to know her because Negan wasn’t really around anymore,” she reminded Joel of their youth and it had Joel nodding his head before moving to the next photo that only had the two of them in it.

“Look at the way she looks at you,” Lydia moved to the next photo that Joel was looking at. It impressed her the way that Y/N looked at Joel in the photo. “You must have been doing something right. That’s the look of pure love.”

Instead of responding, Joel nodded and looked through the next few photos that involved them in it. Looking to Y/N, Joel could see that she was gazing over the photo where she was pregnant with Elizabeth in it. There seemed to be something in her expression changing when she lowered her head.

After some more talk about Negan, the children wanted to go off to the next destination and they followed them close behind. It seemed like Y/N was sad after seeing the photos and Joel cleared his throat, “So uh, one thing Tommy did tell me today was that me doing the Santa photos with the children hurt your feelings.”

“They don’t,” she immediately lied with Joel’s chocolate brown eyes locked on her reaction. It seemed like he didn’t believe her and she shook her head again. This was somewhat common. Anytime she would open up to Tommy about things, he would often try to help her but it only made things worse. “Really, they don’t. I don’t know why Tommy would say something like that.”

“Are you sure?” Joel wondered seeing that she had a hard time looking at him. “You know I’ve known you my whole life, right? Well, it feels like it’s been my whole life.”

“What’s your point?” they stopped when the children asked if they could get some snacks and hot chocolate. It seemed like she was eager to get away from the conversation to pay for the things. The children sat down at a table together. It was a heavily crowded area and the two of them stepped off to the side so they could talk.

“It means that I know when you’re lying to me,” Joel whispered, leaning in closer to her and he noticed the way the warmth of his breath made her shudder. “You have a hard time looking at me when you lie. It was always your give. I could tell that you were being honest when you didn’t break eye contact.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, holding onto the cup of hot chocolate she had gotten for herself. “I’ll have to work on that.”

“If you wanted to come, you could have told me,” Joel offered, hearing her let out a long exhale. It was one thing for him to say that, but another for him to mean it. Especially after the photos had already been taken. In the past she had expressed wanting to go and he never wanted that. “The children would have had fun with it.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to do it anymore,” she stated, her eyes looking sad at the idea of it. Truthfully? He told her that the first year of their separation. So his change of pace made her uneasy. “I distinctly remember you telling me that I couldn’t be part of it because Tess would get the wrong idea. Then when I did it separately, you got angry with me because you wanted special moments with them that were special just for you.”

“Things are different,” Joel reminded her, shifting on his feet uncomfortably after he took a sip of his hot chocolate that she got for him. “I’ve had time to…grow.”

With a nod, Y/N didn’t know what to say because she had grown used to a certain Joel over the last few years. This one wasn’t exactly the Joel that she was used to, “Things are actually a lot better when you are around. The children are happier. I’m happier…”

“Joel,” she looked to Joel seeing the way that his eyes were hooked on her. Those words had her heart fluttering in her chest. Everything inside of her still loved Joel so it hurt trying to think that there was a part of Joel that wanted her around. “Don’t.”

“What do you mean don’t?” Joel outstretched his free hand to curl his glove covered finger underneath her chin to try to urge her to look at him. There was tension in her body when her eyes locked with his.

“Time for the fireworks,” Elizabeth interrupted, reaching for her mom’s arm to tug her toward the opposite direction of the village. “We have to get good seats. I know it’s in like an hour, but you know right by the water is best for the fireworks and we should get there before everyone else does.”

“Sure thing sweetheart,” Y/N gave her daughter a one-armed hug, following Elizabeth and the other children toward the area they wanted to sit. When they were where they wanted to be, Joel moved in beside Y/N to drop down on the bench next to her.

“Can we talk?” Joel wondered, his breathing loud when she looked to the children. They seemed lost in talking to one another and probably wouldn’t bother to pay attention now that they were waiting for the most exciting part of the night. “We can just walk for a little bit. We aren’t going to lose them. They will be here for the next hour or so.”

Considering what Joel was asking of her, she knew it was probably for the best if they did get to talk. It had been a really long time since Joel had even attempted to have a conversation with her when the children weren’t involved.

“Hey, your dad and I are going to take a walk around the park. Watch your brother and call one of us if you need anything,” Y/N stood up from the bench seeing Elizabeth nod. Stepping in front of Peter, she reached out to brush her fingers through his dark hair and heard him huff. “Listen to your sister and stay here with her. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Peter waved his hand about before going back to laughing with Carl about something.

Following Joel off into the distance, Y/N wasn’t sure what to say to him when he nudged her slightly as they moved through the crowd, “Does this place bring back memories for you?”

“Lots of memories,” she remarked knowing that this place meant a lot to them when they were younger. Their job would start the first weekend of November and every weekend up all the way until Christmas. “We worked Christmas six years here. Lots of memories to be had. It was something else.���

“You were always so big on Christmas,” Joel recalled, clinging to his hot chocolate hearing the music that was playing from carolers in the distance. “After my parents died, I hated it.”

There was a silence when Y/N looked to him surprised, “I never told you because you loved it so much. It always reminded me of the things that I lost with my parents. You know how they were when it was Christmas. I could never do what they did. They weren’t great parents. We both know that, but they made it special the best way they could. And Tommy loved them so much. Christmas just reminded me that there was a piece of me that was always missing.”

“I’m sorry,” she didn’t know what to say when they stopped at the tree that was at the middle of the village. It was the biggest one and it was decorated with so many lights that it lit up Joel’s face perfectly. “I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t want you to know that. Because I knew it made you happy,” Joel reasoned with her, his shoulders shrugging when he thought about their past together. “I made myself love Christmas because you did. And then Elizabeth did too. You two were enough to lift my spirits with the way you would get excited.”

Swallowing down hard, Y/N nodded and wasn’t sure of what to say next, “You know, when I picked you up tonight it reminded me of when we were younger. How I would park the car in front of your house, wait to pick you up. You’d run out the door with a kick to your step and each night here felt like it was a date for us. We had fun with it. You reminded me of that girl tonight.”

“Just a lot older,” she half laughed, looking down at herself with what she was wearing.

“Just as pretty,” Joel retorted watching the surprise in her features. It had been a while since he had complimented her like that. By the way color flushed into her cheeks, he could tell that she liked it. “It felt like we were going on another date again when I picked you up. You look really nice.”

“Oh yeah? Bundled up like frosty the snowman?” she chuckled getting him to laugh. “I’m sure I look great after walking around in this cold.”

“You do,” Joel reached out to sweep his fingertips in over the side of her face and under her chin. “Do you remember when we would be working and the two of us would sneak off during the fireworks? We knew we’d have to clean up and close things down, but with everyone busy with the fireworks…”

“We could have been fired,” she exclaimed with a laugh, leaning into his touch. He couldn’t help but smirk with her reaction to his comment. “Especially when we’d go off to one of the houses or the buildings. They have cameras now. Back then, they didn’t have many.”

“We weren’t making that much money anyways,” Joel recognized with a wrinkle of his nose, tipping in closer to rest his forehead against hers when he laughed. “I wouldn’t have cared if we were caught because I was just…addicted to you.”

“We were stupid,” she thought back to their younger selves and the risks they used to take just to be with one another. “There were so many people here.”

“Yeah, but you put on a fireworks show and people just don’t care,” Joel stated with a shake of his head. Just like how things were now. Everyone was desperate to get a good seat to see the fireworks that they really didn’t care about the rest of the village and what it had to offer. “In a way, it was a different kind of sex every time we hopped into a different historical house or building. It was like time travel sex and it always turned me on.”

“You are so weird, what we did was crazy,” she swatted at his shoulder, enjoying the way that he laughed. It had been so long since they had been this relaxed with one another. A breath caught in her throat when she noticed the way that Joel looked down at her lips. “Joel?”

“Crazy or madly in love?” Joel debated, leaning in just enough for his lips to brush faintly over hers. A tremoring breath escaped her lips. Just by the closeness of him like this, it had her desperate to be near him. Sweeping his glove covered thumb in over her jawline had her tipping her head back. Her eyelashes fluttered to a close allowing him to steal a kiss from her lips. Both of her palms pressed in over the center of his chest to brace herself. It had been a while since the two of them kissed like this. Compared to the cool winter air surrounding them, the warmth of her mouth against his was very welcomed. Growing in strength, each caress of his lips over hers had her pressing in closer to him wanting to be near. After a few more kisses, Joel grumbled when she stepped back to pull away. She was trembling, her lips agape with her breathing heavy. “What is it?”

“We can’t have them see us kissing,” she cautioned reminding him of their children. Even though they were further into the village and not incredibly near the water, there was still that chance that Elizabeth or Peter could have gotten up to see them kissing there. “They might get the wrong idea with things and…”

“We’re far enough away,” Joel muttered, yet she still seemed worried. Tossing what he had left of his hot chocolate in the nearest trashcan, Joel waved her forward. Extending his hand out to hers, he could tell that she was deeply considering whether to take it or not. Once she finally did grab his hand, he hooked his fingers with hers leading her through the crowd. She didn’t know how to respond when he took her back toward the front of the village. Leaving wasn’t something they should have been doing with their children still there, but Joel explained to the guard that they had to grab something from the car. After getting the okay, Joel dragged her through the parking lot leaving her curious as to what was happening. It didn’t take long for her to find out because soon Joel had grabbed a hold of her, firmly pressing her back against the SUV. Stepping in close to her, Joel trapped her between him and the vehicle causing her to gasp out. Reaching for the cup that she was still carrying, Joel carelessly dropped it down on the ground beside them. Hovering his lips over hers told him everything he needed to know by the sounds that she made. “We have until the fireworks are over. The children are fine. They aren’t gonna move and there no cameras out here. I reckon you know that just as much as I do.”

“And what is it you want to do?” she exhaled loudly with Joel using his teeth to pull off his first glove. Shoving that one into his pocket, he hastily put the other one away as well. Lifting his hands up, he cupped at her face drawing her mouth closer to him. In that moment it felt like the world was spinning around her. There was something in the way that Joel Miller could look at her that took her breath away. His eyelids grew heavy with want, hovering his mouth just over hers. “Joel?”

“I think you know,” Joel slurred, dragging his bottom lip over hers and it rewarded him with a purr from her.

Sliding his left hand down had his fingers curling around her throat. Gliding his right up allowed his thumb to caress over her bottom lip, dragging it slowly over her flesh. Almost instinctively she started to press kisses against the pad of his thumb, wincing when he applied a small amount of pressure at her throat. Collecting her lips with his, Joel was passionate in the way that he kissed her. Barely taking time to separate between breaths. Nibbling at her bottom lip had her fingers sliding up over the back of his neck to sink them into his messy, dark hair. It seemed that talking about their past had rekindled the flame that existed between the two of them leaving them both hungry to kiss the other. Sliding his hand down, Joel’s fingers found the zipper in her jacket and he tugged firmly at it. Pushing the material aside, Joel dropped his hands grasping firmly to her hips. Taking a moment to break away from the kiss, Joel’s forehead pressed to hers. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, Joel liked the way she trembled in his grasp. Taking his time, Joel started to lazily palm up over the sides of her body. It drew her lips to part and he took advantage tracing the tip of his tongue over her sensitive flesh.

“I miss being able to touch you,” Joel confessed, allowing his fingers to slide up under the bottom of the sweater that she was wearing. Panting, she lowered her head to watch the movement and he nuzzled his nose in against the side of her face. Even though it was freezing outside, they both felt like their bodies were on fire. Once the roughness of his fingers collided with her flesh beneath the sweater, it had her whimpering out. Smiling against her cheek, Joel started peppering wet kisses over her jawline, toward the side of her neck. Leaving occasional nips at her flesh left her to start faintly moaning at the sensation. These were things he knew that she liked when they were younger. It was so easy to have her melting in the palm of his hand. Pressing his kisses closer to her lips, Joel stopped when he reached them. Hovering his mouth over hers, an arrogant smile tugged at his lips with how much she was yearning to be kissed by him again. Starting slow, Joel pressed tiny kisses at her lips. And she returned the gesture. “I miss being able to kiss you.”

Each kiss grew in strength having her lips parting allowing him to flick his tongue against hers. A sweetness still lingered from their hot chocolates, but it wasn’t something that either one of them were turning away. Sucking faintly at his tongue had Joel growling out, closing the distance between them more. In that moment, it had started snowing again. Small flurries were surrounding them and he tipped his head to look at it. Laughing, he buried his head against the side of her neck. Tracing his fingers down over her ribcage had her arching forward toward him.

“I see the way you still look at me,” Joel slurred, nibbling at her bottom lip when she clung to his jacket. Flattening out his palm, he traced a line from her navel, over her abdomen and toward her breast. Squeezing in over her breast through the material of her bra had her cooing out. “You still look at me the same way you did when we were young. I know how you feel about me. Like I said, you were never able to hide anything from me.”  

“Joel,” she panted when his fingers dropped down to open the button in her pants. She should have cared more that they were still out in the middle of a public place, but she didn’t. All that mattered in that moment were the two of them. A firm tug of the zipper in her pants had her hips pulling forward. Joel wasn’t being gentle about the way he was doing things. Locking his eyes with hers, Joel firmly pushed his hand between the material of her pants. The direct contact from the warmth of his palm had her eyes slamming shut. Caressing at the most intimate parts of her body through the thin material of her panties had Joel hissing out.

“Why deny ourselves the chance of feeling good? Of being happy?” Joel nipped at her jawline enjoying the sounds of her soft moans. Adjusting his position, he managed to get his hand beneath her panties. It had her burying her nose against the side of his neck, breathing out his name. “Let’s enjoy this moment. Act like we’re young again, running off together.”

Words were hard to form with how her body was reacting to Joel’s touch. Lowering her hand down, her fingers curled firmly around Joel’s wrist when she felt the roughness of his fingertips circling her clitoris. Dropping her head back against the car opened up her neck to allow his wet kisses to cover it. Involuntarily, her hips started to move against the sensations that he was building up inside of her.

It was then the sound of a car door closing in the distance was heard. A wet sound followed with Joel pulling his mouth away from her neck. Instantaneously, Joel pushed forward to hide what he was doing in case someone walked by them. Thankfully, he could see that the person was far out in the distance. Continuing with his caress had fear flooding into her eyes with him not stopping. There was no stopping him now that he started.

“Not out here,” she tugged on his jacket getting him to smirk. Following her toward the car, they managed to get the back door open of the SUV. Letting her get in first, Joel was quick to follow and even quicker to close the door behind him. Once they were inside, Joel was eagerly tugging at his jacket to get it off. And once he did? He was throwing it into the way back so it didn’t take up any space. Sliding forward, he helped her to get her jacket off. There was no haste to his movements. Immediately after he tossed her jacket aside, he was helping to get her sweater pulled up the lengths of her abdomen. “What if people walk by and see us?”

“They won’t,” Joel tried to assure her knowing that by her kisses, it wasn’t going to be much of a big deal for her.

Grunting out, Joel managed to get her to lift her arms so he could drop the sweater down beside them. Badly he wanted to touch her. Caress at the lengths of her body, but he was quick to reach for her bra. He wanted her. And he wanted her now. Tugging at the material of her bra, Joel got the cup down. His mouth eagerly covering the part of her breast that was revealed to him. Humming against her flesh had her crying out, her fingers sinking into his hair again.

Sweeping his tongue around her nipple allowed them to fall back into things so easily. He had always loved her breasts and enjoyed pampering them. Circling the taut nub with the warmth of his tongue had her back arching up toward him. Nibbling and sucking at the flesh, Joel’s hand pressed in over the small of her back to lead her closer to make things easier for them. Between them, her hands had dropped down working to find his belt. When she found it, she swiftly unhooked it with the material jangling. Adjusting his hips, Joel noticed that she was attempting to open his pants. They were craving each other like he couldn’t believe. She was shaking as she got the material of his jeans opened. Working with the denim she was able to dip her hand beneath his jeans to palm in over his manhood through his boxer briefs. Grunting against her breast led her to purr out which only fueled him further.

“Good girl,” he slurped at her flesh, his head tipping back just enough to watch what this was doing to her.  

Chills were flooding her body with how quickly they fell into this again. With every touch, his hips would arch forward into her caress. Leaving her to feel his erection growing harder against her touch. Nipping at her flesh a final time, Joel kissed up over her breast toward her collar bone. It sent a rush throughout her body. Sliding his left hand up over the opposite side of her neck, Joel led her to him so he could kiss her more passionately. Quickly remembering the things that she liked when they were together.

A loud surprised breath escaped her lips when Joel reached down to hook his fingers into the top of her jeans. The yank had her falling back against the seat with Joel pulling her hips up toward him while he worked the material of her pants from her legs along with her panties. In the cramped space it was hard to get it off of her, having to stop to pull off her boots when he got to her feet. Tossing her pants aside, Joel curled his arms under her knees pulling her in closer to him. It was amazing just how strong Joel was and he was showing his strength with how easily he was moving her around. Urging her legs up over his shoulders, Joel lifted her hips enough to start pressing wet kisses at the inside of her thigh.

It was an awkward position for her body to be in, but with Joel’s arms wrapped around her and holding her hips in place she knew that she wasn’t going anywhere. There was a soft scratching from his facial hair at her flesh while he pampered her thighs with wet kisses, each one growing closer to her core. Bracing herself, Y/N tried to make herself more comfortable. Most of her weight that Joel wasn’t holding onto was on her shoulders while Joel had her hips lifted up for him.

Slamming her eyes shut, she felt Joel’s mouth finally cover her most intimate parts with his growl of satisfaction following once the taste of her touched his tongue. Every kiss, every flick of Joel’s tongue over her body felt so much more enhanced. It had felt like it had been an eternity since the two of them fell into one another. Maybe with the idea of being caught lingering in the back of her mind made her feel everything so much more.

It had been so long since Joel had done this. And actually enjoyed doing this. Everything he was doing showed that he was determined. Clinging tightly to her made sure that she couldn’t wiggle free while he feasted on her pussy, eating her out and having her a trembling mess in his arms. Slurping faintly at her clitoris and folds had her arching up toward him. God, he loved it. Hearing her whimpering out his name while he pleasured her did a lot for his ego. When they were together in the past she had told him that he was a greedy lover toward the end of it, so he was doing his best to focus on her and show her what he was capable of.

Shaking his head from side to side, Joel tried to add some force to his movements. Desperately she was clinging to anything on him that she could grab. Breaking away for a moment to take a breath, Joel couldn’t help but smile at the way she squirmed. Desperate to have him go back to what he was doing.

Licking his lips, Joel lowered her slightly keeping his left hand still hooked around her while his fingers caressed at her sensitive bundle of nerves. Focusing on her entrance, Joel suckled and licked listening to her panting with the combined sensation of what he was doing. Prodding his tongue inside of her, Joel slurped at her body. Following was one of the most intoxicating moans he had heard in a very long time. Cries filled the SUV with him incredibly focused on getting her to an orgasm. And by the way that she was tensing up in his grasp? He could tell that she was close. Soon her hips started to rock against his movements, his mouth finding its way up to her clit. Focusing on and teasing it with his talented mouth.

And there it was, the repeated cries of pleasure once he got her to an orgasm. Having her hips shaking against him made him realize that he was perfectly capable of pleasuring her. Allowing her to lower her hips to the seat, Joel started to work open the buttons of the green flannel that he was wearing. How loud her breathing was showed him just how much he worked her body up with what he had done.

“You feeling good?” Joel wondered pushing the material of his shirt to the sides to reveal his torso to her. Truthfully? He didn’t need her to answer that question. He knew that she felt good. It was evident in every part of her body. She was already drunk on him and it turned him on so much.

Starting at her hip, Joel dragged his fingertips up over her side, under her rib cage and then cupped at the underside of her breast. Sweeping his thumb over the swell of her nipple had her arching up toward him and he hummed.

Realizing that her breathing was heavy, she just gave Joel a nod with her back arching up toward his touch. It was then she remembered something that Tommy said to her earlier in the day. Joel liked to be dominated. And she was letting him control every part of this.

Using the strength that she had, she lifted up pushing her hands into the center of Joel’s chest. Grunting out, Joel fell back against the door. Surprise filled his chocolate-colored eyes with her crawling in closer to him. Bracing his back against the door, Joel’s breathing grew louder with the way she looked. Fuck, her taking charge like that was incredibly hot. Hell, he was impressed. She had fire to her when they were younger, but toward the end of their marriage she had grown pretty relaxed and open to whatever he wanted. This? This was hot.

Hissing out with her fingers curling around his throat had his head tipping back against the door. A chill ran right through him with a wince falling from his throat. Pressure was being applied to the soft, fleshy part of his throat with her thumb as she moved in over him.

“You are so fucking hot,” Joel slurred, biting down on his bottom lip with her hovering her mouth just over his. She was teasing him, but he loved it. Attempting to press in closer to her to bring their lips together had her shoving him further back against the door.

Working his opened shirt down his shoulders, she purposely made the material get stuck near his biceps so he would have a hard time moving his arms in any fashion. His eyebrows furrowed, his chest falling and rising faster with his breathing growing louder.

Putting a bit more pressure at his neck had Joel wincing out, but something flooded into his eyes. Desire. It was burning in his veins when she forcefully lowered down to bring their lips together in a kiss that took her breath away. Joel was hungry. Passionate and it was all the things they had been missing in their relationship at the end. Kissing down over his jaw, her fingers remained around his throat until she reached his chest. Nibbling at his flesh, she allowed her fingers to slip from his neck down over his chest. It caused him to hiss out when she pinched at his nipple, but he arched in closer to her. Kissing down over his stomach, she took her time between her wet kisses and the tiny bites she left over his body. Once she got to his pants, she tugged them firmly down to his knees hearing him grunt. There was something in the way he was looking at her that had chills flowing down her spine. It had been a long time since Joel looked at her like that.

Stealing a glance at the dark green and red boxer briefs that were clinging to Joel’s erection made her smile, “Very festive.”

“That wasn’t purposeful,” Joel snorted, amused that they could still giggle about something as simple as that in the heat of the moment.

Lowering her head down she teased kisses over the material. Kissing over the shaft of his manhood had his hips bouncing up toward her, but she used a bit of force to push them down back into place. After a few more kisses, she reached for the black waistband of the boxer briefs to pull them down his hips and to his thighs. With a smacking sound, Joel’s erection rest against his lower abdomen. Tracing her fingertips over his shaft had his eyelids growing heavy. God knows how many times they had sex together, but the sight of Joel’s cock always took her breath away.

Keeping her eyes hooked on his for a moment longer, she started pressing feather like kisses over the shaft hearing his groan follow. They were wet, hot kisses that had his breathing getting louder. Curling her fingers around the base of his cock allowed her to start stroking over his flesh, sheathing him in her grasp. Teasing the flesh of Joel’s uncut, girthy cock in her hand had him groaning with his hips slightly arching up toward her.

“Be a good boy for Christmas this year, Joel,” she slurred, lowering down to drag her tongue across the tip having him hiss out. “Let me control this for a few.”

With a nod, Joel knew she was asking him to let her do her thing. Her lips were wet with her tongue flicking out slightly with every kiss. Watching her closely had Joel’s heart racing in his chest. More than anything he wanted her to take him into her mouth, but she was purposely holding off. Each caress of her lips over the ridges of his cock grew stronger and wetter. It had his length twitching with anticipation and she smiled. Finally taking him between her lips had him moaning out. It was a surprise since Joel was never much of a verbal lover. So she enjoyed hearing it. It was quiet, but it was loud enough to hear. It had her shuddering with excitement, the heat at her core aching. Unhurriedly, she lowered her head over his length, taking only a small amount. That alone had him inhaling sharply. Dragging her tongue along his flesh drew him to wiggle, but he couldn’t move much with his shirt locked at his arms like she had done it. Each drop down of her head had her taking him farther back into her throat. It was teasing him, but he seemed to like it. Pulling back with a wet sound, she caressed her palm over his flesh before lowering down to pepper kisses near the base toward his testicles.

“Shit,” Joel hissed out, his eyes slamming shut when she took her time focusing fully on him. When she started to kiss up over his hip toward his abdomen, he felt like he was breathless and his eyes were locked on her every movement. “You want me to beg, don’t you?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” she smirked, looking up just enough for Joel to drop his head back with a grunt. “What do you want?”

“Please just suck my cock,” Joel begged of her eliciting a smile from her lips. Giving him a nod, she got more comfortably in over him. Curling her fingers around the base, she dragged her tongue across the tip. Forcing himself to keep his eyes open, he watched her closely with her lips wrapping around the tip. Exhaling heavily, he was glad that he did ask for it because she did exactly what he wanted. Her head lowered down slowly with a wet sound before pulling back up. Circling the sensitive tip with the warmth of her wet tongue before lowering down again. Each movement grew faster having his lips part. “That’s it…”

Watching her pleasuring him was intoxicating. Not only did it feel good, but it looked like she was enjoying herself. And that to him was so incredibly sexy. Doing as she asked, he let her have her way with him. But he had nothing to complain about, it felt good with her head bobbing over his length in steady movements. By the time she pulled her mouth from his manhood with a wet sound it had him moaning out.

Crawling in over him, she was careful in the way she moved. Getting her bra off of her completely, she dropped the material to the side. It felt nice to have Joel looking at her like this. And it fueled her. “You are so fucking hot.”

Smirking, she reached with her left hand to grab Joel’s hands in hers forcing them back over his head against the glass window. Keeping them braced there she reached between them with her other hand. Rocking her hips forward had the length of his shaft teasing through her wet slit and he winced out. When the tip teased over her clitoris it had her cooing with the sensation. Lining up their bodies, she took her time in lowering down over him. It had been a while for her so even though she was being dominant, she was going to take the time to let her body open back up to the man beneath her.

It was obvious that Joel wasn’t used to her taking charge. At least not for a long time. As she took all of him into her, bottoming out, it had his head lifting from the door. Staring down at their bodies, Joel’s lips parted and he groaned. It was short lasted before his lips desperately found hers. Circling her hips allowed his body to slightly pull from hers and then go back again. It was nice to feel full again with Joel inside of her. Stretching her.

“Does that feel good?” she purred with her slow and steady movements. Starting small before growing in strength. Joel’s dark eyes were locked on her, his fingers curling into fists from where they were pressed against the window. There was something arrogant about her in the moment and he liked it. She was using his cock in the ways that she pleased. Riding him with confidence in steady, firm movements. “Does it?”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel swallowed down, pressing forward to nibble at her bottom lip. Tugging faintly at it, Joel flicked his tongue out over the inside of her bottom lip getting her to purr. Her right hand was braced against his abdomen to steady her when she lifted her hips to the tip only to bury him deeply inside of her again. Repeating those motions got Joel to be more verbal than he had been in a long time. That was what she was aiming for. It made her feel good that she could draw that out from him. Once her movements started to grow in strength, Joel wondered if someone walked by they could tell what was happening. He kind of hoped they could. Then again, she was riding him so hard he assumed the SUV was likely shaking. “So good.”

Soon she was bouncing her hips over his, her cries of pleasure filling the SUV. Watching her fucking herself on his cock had Joel’s blood boiling inside of his body with absolute euphoria. It was quite the sight and he was so glad that she actually agreed to this.

“That’s it,” Joel coached with a growl, his brow line creasing when she took all of him with ease at this point. “That’s so good. Ride that cock honey.”

Leaning in over him, she dropped his hands and they instantly went to her hips. Her right arm hooked around his shoulders, her left sinking her fingers into his thick hair while she worked herself faster over him. Burying his nose against the side of her neck, Joel gifted her flesh with wet kisses. Each forceful thrust back over his cock felt amazing. There was still a chill in the car that was around them, so that contrast of her tight canal taking him repeatedly felt phenomenal.

“Don’t…” Joel whined when she pulled her hips up and away from him. Trying to stop her from leaving, she motioned him to sit up on the seat having him huff out. Turning away from him, he helped her lower her hips back in over him in the reverse cowgirl position. Her fingers curled tightly into the flesh of his thighs. “Goddamn…”

Joel’s hands slid up her abdomen toward her breasts to cup them firmly while he kissed at the side of her neck. There was that involuntary want to bounce his hips up toward her, but she was so focused in what she was doing and how she felt that Joel just let her have her way. Dropping his fingers down, Joel’s palm pressed between her thighs. Circling her clitoris with his rough fingertips had her mewling out, her fingers digging even further into his thighs.  

“You missed this, didn’t you?” Joel questioned, reaching up with his other hand to curl his fingers around her throat pulling her back against him. Quickening the motion of his fingers had her crying out with the sensation. “Brace yourself…”

Joel’s hips started bouncing up matching her movements. His testicles smacked up against her while he pounded into her matching the tempo of his fingers. Noticing her shaking, Joel knew she was on the verge of another orgasm. So he kept up at it until he heard her moaning out his name. Fuck, having her body tense up like that felt amazing. The contracting of her tight warmth that surrounded his cock was addicting.

“I missed this,” Joel alerted her, forcing her to get on her knees in the backseat. Grabbing her hips, he moved her how he needed her. Swiftly, his hips smacked up against her when he sank his length back into her tight body. Each thrust was hard having her bounce forward with a cry. “I’ve missed this ass so much.”

Joel smacked firmly over it appreciating the way her whimper followed. Watching his cock sinking into her and pulling out was a beautiful sight for him. One he hadn’t watched in quite some time. Soon his thrusts were strong leading her to crawl forward on the seat, but he reached out to press down into her shoulders to lower her face down against the leather. Sinking his fingers into her hair, he pushed at the back of her head getting her cheek to press firmly against the seat. A bright light flooded the sky making him smirk when he realized the fireworks started.

“We’ve still got a few,” Joel alerted her with a grunt, pounding into her at this point with her cries filling the air. Every hard forward thrust filled the car with a loud smacking sound. “Your sweet little pussy always took my fat cock so well, didn’t it?”

“Joel,” she muttered, her breathing growing uneven when he reached for her wrists to pull them behind her back. Collecting them in one hand, Joel’s other hand went back to keeping a pressure between her shoulders. Even though Tommy said that Joel liked to be dominated, she could tell by the way he was having sex with her that he still like having that control. “Please…”

“We’ll get you to come, don’t whine,” Joel hushed her using the strength that he had built up to continue to fuck her hard. Each smack of his hips against her ass was loud. Plunge after plunge of his cock had the wet sounds of their bodies flooding the car. It was a little uncomfortable with her face buried into the seat, her ass up and her arms behind her back. But Joel moving inside of her felt good and by his breathing she could tell he liked it. “You’re shaking. Don’t fight it.”

Breathless moans followed when he forcefully bottomed out inside of her when he felt her orgasm start. Staying still had her trying to pull her hips forward, but he didn’t allow her. Groaning out, he looked down with the light from the fireworks flooding into the car so he saw things differently. He was overstimulating her body. And he loved the way it looked and sounded.

“No one knows your body like I do,” Joel pulled out of her, leaving her a shaking mess after he brought her to another orgasm. “Lay back so you can see the fireworks. I want you to see fireworks when I come inside of you.”

Breathless, she tried to move, but everything ached. Everything was spinning, her heart was hammering in her chest. It was the best kind of hurting, but her body was shaking. A liquid warmth was still rushing through her veins, her core tremoring.

Of course Joel helped get her where he wanted her, lowering carefully down in over her. Resting himself between her thighs, Joel curled one arm around her waist to bring her up so he could sink his length back into her while the other braced against the seat. Tipping his head back, Joel bit down on his bottom lip and hummed.

“I don’t think you knew what you were capable of making me do with this pussy,” Joel admitted, lowering down in over her with her sinking her fingers into his hair. Meeting her lips in a sloppy kiss, Joel’s thrusts started again and he groaned out against her flesh. “You were always so capable of making me do whatever you wanted when we were younger.”

Hearing her moaning out his name had chills flooding his body. Bracing both of his hands on the seat, Joel’s hips eagerly bounced forward craving to reach his release knowing that the fireworks weren’t extremely long. Wincing, Joel felt his balls tightening up and he knew that he was close to coming. Having Y/N kissing at the side of his neck felt amazing when the first twitch of his cock inside of her had her whimpering against his flesh.

Continuing to kiss her through his orgasm, Joel’s hips kept up with the pace of his thrusts until he let out a final grunt against the side of her neck. Soft strokes of her fingers through his wet hair was felt. The cold inside of the car suddenly felt hot around them and smelled of sex.

“Fuck,” Joel’s breathing was loud with him pressing a final kiss against the side of her neck. It felt nice to have her touching him and holding onto him the way she was. It had been a while since someone had admired him like this. The windows were steamed over from their moment when he lifted his head and smiled. Grunting out, he pulled his hips away from her and got to his knees. She seemed to whine as his body left hers and it made him chuckle. Once his manhood hit the cold air, it twitched and he huffed loudly. Pulling her closer to him, he pushed her thighs apart and watched the way that his cum started to spill from her body. “We need to clean you up.”

Leaning over the front seat, Joel reached for the tissues and he gave a smirk when he started cleaning his release from her flesh. With a wink, Joel fell back against the opposite end of the seat. Tugging his jeans and his boxer briefs up over his hips had him sighing. “I reckon that’s the biggest orgasm I’ve had in a very long time.”

“So you liked it?” she inquired, having a harder time with working her clothes back over her body. Once she was done, she laid in over Joel and his fingers reached up to sweep at the hair that was clinging to her damp flesh. Leading her to him, Joel peppered her lips with small kisses and it had the both of them smiling.

“It was so much better than the last few times we were together,” Joel announced with a loud swallow nipping at her bottom lip. “If our sex was more like that toward the end of our marriage, we probably would still be together with a few more kids.”

Fuck. After saying that it had her tensing up over him. Cussing under his breath, he watched her head pulling back to look him over. What was once a euphoric expression now seemed to be replaced with a hurt one.

Hesitantly letting out an uncomfortable laugh, he lifted his hands in a defensive motion and shook his head, “I didn’t mean it like that.”  

“Yes, you did,” she visibly caught onto the comment that while may have been innocent insinuated that sex with her was not good while they were married which is why they were no longer together. Noticing the color changing in her face, Joel swiftly started to button up his shirt realizing that this was headed in a bad direction. Some of his buttons were fucked up and he was attempting to fix them when she started heading for the door. Extending his fingers out, he firmly curled them around her wrist to stop her from leaving the SUV. “Forget it Joel. You got your fuck in, now it’s over. Obviously, you were just horny and wanted to fuck.”

“Come on,” Joel almost begged of her. He was at a loss of words. “You have to admit that when we were having sex during certain parts of our marriage it was really boring.”

Shit. That didn’t work either with her face twisting with upset, “I just mean we used to be this spontaneous couple that would get to have hot, amazing sex and then we became two parents sneaking sex in on a schedule of when we could get it. Either when the children were gone or sleeping.”

“That’s what parents do Joel,” she reminded him hearing him scoff when she pulled her wrist back from him. Reaching up, he slicked his hair back and let out an uneasy sound. “I’m sorry sex from me wasn’t good enough for you.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t good, I just said it was boring,” Joel repeated his earlier words, throwing his hands up in the air when he started to buckle together his belt. If he would have known he would upset her this much he would have kept his mouth shut. Which really? He knew he should have done. That wasn’t the kind of thing someone would want to hear right after sex like that.

“We had sex after we got divorced too,” she pointed out having Joel shrug his shoulders and shake his head. There were times when Joel would come over to the house. Sometimes they would fight and end up having sex. Other times he would show up drunk acting sad and they would sleep together. But every time? It never brought him back. “Was that boring too?”

“I don’t know,” Joel grumbled under his breath being flustered with the way she was asking the questions. Right now her feelings were hurt and he understood that. “Maybe I just don’t remember because you weren’t the last person I had sex with. Maybe I’m confusing you with Tess. I don’t know.”

“That’s great. You’re confusing me with your ex-girlfriend. That’s just great,” her eyes were damp and Joel regretted saying what he did because he clearly upset her more than she cared to admit. It felt like he was trying to throw a jab in there reminding her that he had an ex-girlfriend that he was sleeping with. “You know you’re the last person that I slept with Joel. Before tonight. It was still you.”

“As you like to remind me. I know I’m the only man you’ve had sex with,” Joel almost mocked her hearing the offended breath falling from her throat. Whenever Joel got angry his southern drawl would grow deeper. “It’s not my fault that you couldn’t find someone else after we got divorced. Maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight if you actually got laid sometimes.”

“And there he is,” she reached up to wipe at her tears that were burning at her face. “You make me believe that there is something between us still, you lead me on, you get me to sleep with you and then the old you just comes back out. I’m so fucking stupid for thinking that you still loved me.”

“You’re taking this too personal,” Joel tried to stress reaching for her again, but she was quick to leave the SUV. Groaning out, Joel followed quickly after her, snatching his jacket and pulling it on while he stumbled on the wet snow. “Can we just talk, please?”

“The fireworks are going to be over soon and the children will be looking for us,” she sniffled, looking toward the entrance of the village knowing that their children were at the opposite end of it. Keeping a good distance between the two of them, she knew that she didn’t want to talk to him right now. “We can’t do this right now.”

“Just fucking wait,” Joel demanded, grabbing a tight hold of her wrist, forcing her back toward him as the firework show still continued in the sky. “Ellie is seventeen years old. She’s not a baby anymore. And Peter is thirteen. She can handle him. They are gonna be fine.”

“Joel,” she placed her hand in over the center of his chest trying to put some distance between them.

“I was seventeen when we got together Y/N. We were still kids,” Joel started, drawing her to listen to him when he pulled her back. This whole situation had him frustrated. “And then we got pregnant young. We married young. The two of us were all we ever really knew.”  

“What are you trying to get at Joel?” she pushed struggling to get him to release her, but he wouldn’t. Right now it felt like the world was crumbling down all around her. What had started off as a hopeful moment had turned into something with a very shitty ending. “I was happy. I loved my life. You’re the one that was miserable and let me know it in every way possible.”

“I was depressed. I gave up my life,” Joel stressed, his voice growing raspier when his southern drawl grew just like it did every time he was upset. “I was the star quarterback Y/N. I was about to go off to college. I worked hard for it and then my life fell apart. I always assumed that maybe we’d break up when I went to college. We’d both go out, be young for a while and enjoy life. But my life fell to shit. I deserved that life. I know you meant well and you never gave up on me, so I never gave up on you. But not being able to do what I was destined for sucked. I could have been a sports star like Negan Smith. I could have become a singer like I wanted. Instead I got fucking stuck here in the town that I never liked to begin with.”

“You’re not the only one that didn’t get the life that they wanted Joel,” she recalled feeling an ache at the center of her chest hearing him just drop that bomb on her. “I’m just the only one that adjusted and dealt with it.”

“Yeah, but I was a sure shot,” Joel scoffed realizing that she had dreams too, but those were things she had to eventually work to try to get. He was offered a full ride to college for his skills. All he had to do was go and he couldn’t.

Tipping her head to the side, she angrily smiled and let out a tense laugh. That was his way of saying her dreams weren’t as important as his were.

Rolling his eyes, Joel let go of her arm firmly and rest his hands on his hips, “You know, I’m trying here. I’ve been a good dad. I never stopped being a good dad.”

“You’re right. You’re an amazing dad,” she stressed reaching up to rub at her arm where he had grabbed her feeling a sense of pain there. “Good for you Joel. I’m proud of you. Now please let me go get our children.”

“How are we ever going to be okay again if we can’t talk?” Joel called out when she went to leave again finding himself infuriated with the situation. “I’ve tried talking to you. I meant the things that I said to you. I miss the way things used to be. At the beginning of our relationship, it was so much fun.”

“Yeah, and then I got pregnant because we had too much fun,” she pointed out hearing him sigh again. “And then we had to have responsibilities. We had to be adults because we were raising a little girl. We couldn’t be that fun couple anymore.”

“I don’t regret being a father,” Joel claimed, reaching up to place his hand in over the center of his chest. “It’s the best thing in my life that I’ve done. Peter and Ellie mean everything to me. I don’t blame them at all for the things…the things that I lost in life.”

“No, you just blamed me,” she let out a whimpering breath causing Joel to drop his head down. “I’m not the person that made you have sex with me without a condom. You said that it felt better without a condom and I took the birth control like I was supposed to. It’s not my fault that it didn’t work. You did a good job hiding being miserable from the kids, but you never let me forget just how awful you thought your life was. You know what? No. I won’t say that. I’ll give you credit for the first part of our marriage. You hid it really well. It was toward the end that you let it show.”

“You know what I lost out on,” Joel reminded her, his dark eyes lifting when he shrugged.

“How could I forget? You reminded me so often,” she scoffed trying to wipe at her eyes again. Having hope for something that was never going to happen was one of the worst pains she had experienced. Hoping that something would come out of this was her problem. Hope got her a lot of heartache in the last few years and there was nothing that would change it now. “My mistake is thinking that you could ever love me again. Or that you never stopped loving me. There was a reason we got divorced. I just live in this fantasy world where I still believe that we can fix everything.”

“We can,” Joel suggested hearing her laugh and it frustrated him. “Our children hate us being divorced. If you weren’t so stubborn…”

“Dad!” a voice called out and Joel grunted when a weight jumped into his arms. Groaning out, he wrapped his arms around his son and pulled him up. Peter’s arms wrapped around Joel’s shoulders and he squeezed his arms tightly around him. In their fighting, neither of them noticed that the fireworks had stopped and people were starting to flood into the parking lot. “We were looking for you guys.”

“Sorry champ,” Joel pressed a loving kiss against Peter’s temple, his dark eyes locked on Y/N still when he braced his son in his arms. Elizabeth was approaching and Carl was with Lydia talking to her about fifty feet behind. “Your mother and I just started talking. We must have lost track of time.”

“Hey dad,” Elizabeth moved in beside Y/N who was doing her best to hide her hurt feelings from her children. It was something that she got really good at. “How about we take Carl and Lydia home and we all go out to dinner tonight? The four of us. Like we used to do after this event. We can go to that place that goes all out with the hot chocolates that we used to get. It’s been forever since we went there together. I know it stays open late. We used to have so much fun doing it.”

“That’s up to your mother,” Joel answered pointing in the direction of Y/N. He knew that she would never want to go anywhere with him right now, but it wasn’t going to be thrown on him if they didn’t go. “I’d love to go with all of you.”

“I’m sure you have better things to do Joel,” she suggested and he immediately shook his head, stroking his fingers over the back of Peter’s neck. “Things where you aren’t bored.”

“My night is free since the children were going to be with me anyways,” Joel repeated with a smirk, motioning Elizabeth closer to him. Balancing Peter in one arm, he managed to hook his other arm around their daughter to squeeze her close. “Ellie and Peter want to go, so come on…what do you say? Unless you have something better to do.”

“Liz, dad,” she corrected her father on what she wanted to be called and it had Joel huffing out. “Ellie just makes me sound like a little girl.”

“You are my little girl,” Joel grunted, nuzzling his nose against her temple. “You’re always going to be my Ellie. Your dad is old and locked in his ways.”

“I guess I’ll make an exception for you,” their daughter decided with a big smile and it hurt to see how much the children genuinely loved Joel. It wasn’t like he was abusive toward her. Just brutally honest. And they really had no idea how much he had broken her heart in the past. “Are we good to go mom?”

“Of course,” she agreed following them all into the car trying to hide her feelings by locking them deep down.

On the car ride to drop Lydia and Carl off at home, Joel outstretched his hand to place it over hers and she pulled it away from him. Trying to shut down, she stayed quiet until they were at the restaurant. Somehow she got lucky enough for them to end up in a booth and Joel hooked his arm around her shoulders while they sat at the booth. Having the children seeing them together like this was going to be bad. Especially since she could see it in their eyes when Joel kissed at her temple that they thought something was going on between them.

In the past, she would have swooned over this kind of opportunity. All she wanted over the last four years was to have Joel back. For them to be a family again. But after what he said? It just felt fake.

Even though this was his way of trying, it felt forced on her when she was upset and it made her unhappy. Pushing through dinner, she didn’t want to act miserable so she knew that she needed to talk, interact. After they had their dessert, they went home and the children wanted a movie night. Which meant they wanted to go back to her home and involve Joel. It was hard telling them no so she allowed it.

On the drive home they were quiet except for the children talking about what happened at the event. When they got home, it made her regret it because it reminded her of when they were younger coming home together as a family.

“Hey,” Joel stopped her when the children went in, grabbing a hold of the door. “Ellie, find something for us to watch, I want to talk to your mom for a second.”

“Got it!” Ellie called out while she bickered back and forth with Peter as Joel closed the door to give them some space.

“Y/N, I know I said the wrong thing,” Joel stammered from where they were standing on the porch of the home that they used to share together. With a frown, his hands went to his hips and he shifted his weight. “I have trouble saying the right thing. I know I do. Maybe tonight is a sign with me being here.”

Hearing his comment had a rush of heat flooding into her cheeks and Joel frowned, “I miss our home. I miss sleeping in my bed and I miss having you in my arms,” Joel reasoned with her and a hurt breath fell from her throat. “Maybe tonight we can try it again? When the movie is over. We can go to our bedroom. We can get ready for bed and we can sleep together. Like how things used to be.”

“Joel,” she began, folding her arms in front of her chest and lifting her head to meet the stare of the beautiful, brown eyes that she had fell in love with from the start. “It isn’t your bed anymore. This isn’t your house anymore. Your bed and your home are a block or two over with Tommy.”

Disappointment flooded his veins when she back stepped toward the door and grabbed a hold of the doorknob, turning it slightly to open it. It was then he realized how much he genuinely fucked up with what he said to her earlier.

“We can be civil with each other, but I know where this is headed. It’s headed in the same place that it is every time this happens. You are lonely. We have sex a few times. You realize it’s just the loneliness and you break my heart again. I don’t know how much of my heart is left,” she realized she sounded dramatic with the way that his eyes looked miserable while she spoke. “You can sleep on the couch after the movie is over. But in the morning, just go back home where you want to be.”

Going to open his mouth, Joel grumbled under his breath when she pushed open the door and stepped inside the home. Sure, what he said was honest, but he didn’t think it would ruin what they had been developing over the night.  But once again, there was no time for them to talk because they had to be with the children instead of getting to talk things out. And that made things hard.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis

[mrs-kodzuken]

hard to desire ⨟ kenma k.

chapter seven

stay ari abdul

❝I hope I occupy your mind

No one deserves you, yeah you're mine

Only with you I feel alive

If you leave me here, I'll die❞

The layout of the hotel was simple, sleek and seemed perfect for two adults, except those adults would have to be in a relationship if there was only one bed—or close family members.

Strangely, you didn’t feel the least bit mad though, a bit overwhelmed with the whole gas leak situation and the fact that the receptionist lied to your face but other than that, it was like you were at home.

But tonight, you’d be sharing a bed with Kenma—and you both weren’t family nor very close; it kick-started a flutter in your heart.

You watched him gazing around the room, skipping over the other living human being too as he stuck certain things to mind, like which side of the room the bathroom was at, where the remote to the TV was placed, where you were staring at him from and so on.

Kenma didn’t know how to feel, especially about rooming with the girl he actually realized he has a miniscule—huge—crush for. 

Kenma was hoping—alongside you as well—that tonight wouldn’t make anything more strange between the both of you, however, he could almost guess that it would be the case for the night. 

Kuroo stayed at an Airbnb with his friends, Bokuto, Akaashi and other high school friends you had never met—you had taken the liberty yourself to ask—so, you had no choice but to stay in the hotel room with Kenma.

You weren’t complaining too much though because you had become more comfortable with him over this past week, so it didn’t bother you too much. Especially when you learned to put the whole ‘he masturbated to the thought of you’ out of your head, that did leave lingering feelings of a schoolgirl crush. It’s not like you would ever admit it though. 

“So…” You trailed on to Kenma, “What do we do now?” You looked up from your standing spot, the hotel looked really nice.

You haven’t been to a hotel since your last vacation with your parents too. You tried to not be awkward with Kenma, flashes of your last talks with Akaashi were still fresh and at this point, you were too chicken to admit your feelings for Kenma.

“I guess just lounge til we're tired...?” He questioned, because that’s what he mostly does when his days off align with work and college. Now with you taking up even those rare days too, he needed a little quiet time in his head.

Kenma plopped down on the nearby, small sofa and pulled out his phone. You took that as a sign that he didn’t want to talk and then rolled your eyes. 

“Okay, Kenma,” You responded, opening up Pinterest yourself. You didn’t like sitting in mere silence either, it was practically deafening—it made you uncomfortable. So, you realized after so long, you had been rambling to Kenma about the things you were viewing on Pinterest.

“Oh, I think I like this picture better though, it has ribbons on the screen unlike the last one, but the last one was super cute too, though…” You trailed, scrolling between two lockscreens on your phone.

You just couldn’t decide, and all Kenma could respond with was a “Mhm.”

That was until you found a quiz, “Hey, wait! Should I take this quiz that’ll tell me what kind of bread I am? I hope I’m sourdough, it’s delicious.” You asked Kenma, hoping this time he’ll respond. 

He looked up from his phone to see you sprawled out on the bed, claiming it as yours. You looked cute as hell; Kenma couldn’t not soften his gaze from the random rambling you’ve been doing for the past hour.

“I think you’d be a sweet bread,” he said, not realizing how it sounded out loud until your head snapped up to meet his eyes that were trailed on your body.

“Like a coffee one because you drink it so often,” He hurried to add, alongside giving a fake snort to make it seem like a joke. Kenma didn’t want to be the person to initiate the conversation you both have been waiting for, but the buildup of talking was more nerve racking than seeing what was on the other side. 

After that bit, you didn’t speak anymore but put on a random TV show that was on, after Kenma’s compliment, you were in your head about how you needed to say something—anything—to him about your feelings.

However, with the way he looks at you, so kind now, as if you both are dear friends, you just can’t. Not to mention, when he’s helpful or does things for you just because he wants to with no ulterior motives.

That’s what makes you swoon for him, and it sucked for you. Between the hours from then and now, it was a comfortable silence, Kenma had turned the side table lamp on instead of the big, overhead light.

You had completed the last bit of homework that needed to be done so you could relax for the rest of fall break, and you watched Kenma—without him knowing—turn his phone horizontal. 

Watching his expressions when he was focused was mesmerizing to you, you couldn’t look away from him. Kenma’s appearance was also just one of those things that had you swallowing hard and clenching your thighs together, as much as you won’t admit.

Like a hawk though, the first yawn that escapes your mouth, he’s up. “Come on, I’ll order some dinner while you get ready for bed.” Kenma breaks you out of your trance-like state, not bothering that you are too tired to eat now.

“I don’t want to, I’m tired now,” You rolled over onto your face, your voice coming out muffled from the pillow.

“I don’t care, you’re eating. Get in the shower and don’t make me repeat myself.” You peeked from your pillow to him turned around, his backside facing you.

The rush of butterflies and urge in your lower abdomen was breathtaking. You never knew that Kenma could be assertive, but then again, you knew certain parts of him—only little tid-bits that he wanted you to know.

“Okay, fine.” You grumbled, trying to hide your flushed face with your hair as you trudged to the bathroom with your bag that you packed.

You could slightly hear him through the door, ordering dinner for the both of you, you did like that Kenma cared for you, it sent a rush of no other through your body. 

After your relaxing shower, you were met with dinner, it was something simple, but Kenma knew your favorites after living with you for so long.

“Thank you, Kenma.” You smiled, happy that you were eating, having not realized that you were even hungry.

“Don’t mention it.” He stated, scrolling on his phone before throwing away the scraps of his food.

“I’m going to shower; I’ll sleep on the floor when I’m back.” He said, not turning back and was about to close the white door.

“Hey, what? No, you’re not. The floor is going to be uncomfortable to sleep on, you can’t.” You said confused, the bed was big enough, and more, for the both of you.

“No, seriously, I’m fine with the flo-”

“Do you not want to sleep with me? I showered, you know. I’m not dirty.” You were taking offense to his refusal, it’s not like you weren’t clean either.

“Oh my God, fine. I’ll sleep in the bed with you, okay?” He looked exasperated but couldn’t get over you asking if he didn’t want to sleep with you. 

God, you were going to be the death of him, he thought as he shut the door behind him with a hard on. When he took his hair out of his ponytail, he ran a hand through it, trying to relieve the stress from the too tight hair tie.

But, of course, he knew that the hair tie wasn’t the problem, it was his dick. Closing his eyes, he couldn’t believe what he was about to do, especially with you on the other side of the door. Kenma turned on the shower, almost burning hot, just the way he liked it.

The thoughts of you filled his head, the way you laid on the bed, how comfortable you looked, asking you to sleep with him, you with your sleep clothes on. It was all becoming too much as his hand strayed towards his reddening cock, he slowly breathed, hoping to keep the noise down or that it would be muffled by the shower so your ears wouldn’t hear.

He would be painfully embarrassed if you knew that he got off to you, especially when you’re right through the door. 

Kenma couldn’t help but to tightly shut his eyes as his hand squeezed his needy cock, God, he needed you, he craved making you his so he wouldn’t have to do this anymore.

His hand pumped up and down his dick rapidly, the slight papping noise of his hand hitting his skin making the illusion that the both of you were having sex.

He groaned loudly, his orgasm that he was trying to get away from, hitting him hard making his hips buck for more. Kenma tried to catch his breath in the deathly hot shower, almost suffocating as he watched his liquid be swallowed by the drain.

He immediately turned the shower cold as ice and hoped that you didn’t hear him as he finally started his ministrations of cleaning himself. 

However, you on the other side of the door didn’t give Kenma any more thoughts when you heard a small clap of thunder reach your ears.

That was enough for you to focus on pulling up the weather app and hope that it wasn’t what you thought it was. Of course, to your demise, it was, and that only made things worse for you in particular.

You immediately grabbed the TV remote and wrapped it up inside the blankets so Kenma would have no choice but to watch something that would help you get through this night. And so, when you heard the shower stop, you gripped the remote a bit more and waited for Kenma to get out of the bathroom.

When the door creaked open, Kenma couldn’t help but to feel regretful that you’re in here bundled up because it’s storming outside, and he was in the bathroom masturbating to you.

However, he didn’t expect to see the kids show ‘Bluey’ playing on the large hotel TV screen very loud and proud though. Great, that’s something he’s going to have to listen to for the rest of the night. 

He side-eyed you, to let you know he didn’t want to be watching this but the look you gave him was basically saying ‘remember what happened like a week ago’ so, he concluded the best thing to say was nothing.

“Are you okay? Is the storm making you nervous to where you can’t sleep?” He asked, climbing into the bed, trying to fend for some of the covers that you took.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to be watching this.” You shifted your eyes, feeling bad but preferred if you weren’t scared and crying all throughout the night.

Thunderstorms were something you hated, you couldn’t help but to be afraid of them, it probably stemmed from your childhood.

“It’s okay, try to get some sleep,” Was all Kenma said as you got comfortable, however Kenma on the other hand, didn’t. If he wanted more cover and not shiver all night as well as turn the TV down, he’d have to get closer to you in bed.

He decides to bite the bullet, and just scoot closer, what harm could there be? 

As he got comfortable, he didn’t expect you to snuggle up closer to him, especially when you were more than likely asleep. He took that chance to grab the remote and turn the TV down a bit, it was hurting from how loud it was.

When Kenma finally settled back down, he realized how close you both were, he could feel how fast his heart was beating in your presence, not to mention that his dick was half hard even though he masturbated in the shower.

Kenma could feel his face flushing as he listened to your breathing, it was soft as he counted your breaths in and out. He definitely would not be able to sleep now, especially when the girl he’s been hateful crushing on is snuggled up right next to him.

Adamant to not make this night something sexual, especially since you’re afraid of thunderstorms, he holds you close like he did that night in your bed.

The rain sounds mixed in with the even breaths of you was soothing enough to probably let him sleep—if you didn’t shuffle around every five seconds. 

It almost gives him a heart attack every so often when you shift in your sleep because besides being interested in a kids show, he keeps peering down at you and soft smiling, not being able to help it.

Kenma didn’t realize how long a kids show could actually be, especially when it just kept playing each episode without pause. He reached for the remote, eyes heavy, body wishing to sleep, and mind foggy, hoping to turn it off because it was practically two in the morning by that point.

That was until you stirred, waking up due to the lack of sound, in which Kenma pretends to be asleep, hoping that you didn’t catch him pretending.

All he heard from you was subtle mumbling about how he ‘shouldn’t touch the volume’ and to ‘mind his manners’. That was when he rolled his eyes while they were closed, hoping that it was enough for it to look like he was in REM sleep.

He felt you pat his cheek, trying to resist the rosiness that usually happens during close contact like this. When you shuffle a bit more, he peeks his eye open just very slightly, hoping to not let you see him. 

Your hair was a mess, and you looked sleepy with a cute little pout because of the volume. Kenma felt like his heart was going to burst if you didn’t go back to sleep soon.

That was, until you kept whispering something he couldn’t hear until he focused on the sound and not your looks, “Kenma, I felt like a little creep that day when I peeked at you, and I’m sorry, but it’s nice to know you like me too.” You softly spoke, just shy of a whisper, hoping to not wake him and to go back to sleep yourself.

You felt better and went back to sleep with ease because you confessed and got it off of your chest. However, Kenma on the other hand was internally in shambles, he hoped to God you weren’t talking about what he thought you were.

If he wasn’t so close to you, he’d get up and leave without another word exchanged, it was embarrassing to know that you caught him masturbating to you, if he’s thinking of the day correctly. The whole situation you put him in was horrible, notably that the Bluey theme song was playing while his world was coming apart too.

When your breathing became even again, he had to remove himself just a little way away because his face was a rubescent color and his cock was rock-hard. Kenma stayed that way with you shifting every five seconds, making every minute worse for him until he could see the sun rising through the small emerge that was left open of the black out curtains. 

However, that’s when you decide that you want to get up and greet the day, sleeping nicely all throughout the night, except when you had to get that small guilt-ridden comment off your chest.

You peered over at Kenma, feeling shy that you both were so close together last night, also because he was like a heat warmer.

Somehow, he still looked tired even when he was sleeping. “Good morning, Kenma.” You said softly, being sure to ease your way out of bed without waking him up, as well as turning off the TV for his sake.

Funnily enough, the only time Kenma was able to get some sleep was when you finally left the bed and probably were hungry for breakfast.

You, on the other hand, were ecstatic for today because this was the day that you were going to talk to Kenma, you decided it the moment you awoke from sleeping beside him. Your schoolgirl crush with him would be confronted and you’d feel so much better about getting all the feelings out instead of keeping them in. 

You’re not in the hotel room when Kenma wakes up, as true, he barely got a wink of sleep, just shy of an hour because the check out time was coming soon.

He decided to leave while he still could and not have to face you right now, it was kind of a shitty thing for him to do, he thought as he got dressed and put his shoes on. But, nevertheless, he’d see you at home anyways, Kenma just needed a little refuge for right now.

Especially since he was your refuge/safe place all night.

When Kenma’s leaving with his backpack on, there’s plenty of people in the hotel hallways, people coming back from lunch, collecting their things to check out, even the cleaning staff too. I

t was understandable that he bumped into someone, but he didn’t bother looking back in such a crowded hallway, however, he didn’t realize that the someone was you.

And if he had seen you, the confused expression on your face as to why he was leaving when you had just got his portion for breakfast and bumped into you without saying anything.

That kind of hurt your feelings as you stood there in the hotel hallway, not sure what to do. 

synopsis: it's the summer before you go to university, and you decide to become roommates with your pen pal that you've known since you were in primary. big problem arises, he's got a roommate, and it just so happens that his roommate either has a sexual want for you or hates your guts – or probably both?

a/n: hiii! i hope you like the update and enjoy :)) we're coming to an end in a few chapters, so excitinggg ! <3

tag list: @geektastic84 @lavanderdreamve @hhoneyhan @kirikeijii @marsoverthestars @nymphsdomain @justagirlnamedkai @kodzukein @74zix47 @kakuzone @jaeminaur @3lectraheart @ookamiakasuna @22marie16 @jlly1 @aldebrana @kad0o

@deftrow allowed me permission to make this/it's their idea from A03!! all i did was create a multi-chapter fic of it :) i made the banner!!

[blackenedsnow]

howdy!! like many others I am down for the bug man and love the way you write him,, I've been battling a little cold for the past few days and I think it would fix me (or at least bring me joy) if you could write something with beej and a sick reader? either toon or movie juice would work :)

death becomes you (not really)

WARNING: Sickness

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Sick!Reader

NOTE: Hii! You're probably feeling better by now, if not, I hope you get well soon! I went with Toonjuice because I haven’t written as much for him, but I’m dying to do more! Hope you enjoy this!

SUMMARY: You're down with a cold, and Beetlejuice is, well… trying to help. Whether his attempts are more cure or curse, only time will tell.

You felt like death.

Not the cool kind of death with the ominous fog and cool, haunted moors—the kind you’d expect Beetlejuice to show up with. No, this was the miserable, sickly, mucus-ridden kind of death, where all you wanted was a cozy blanket, a good potion of cold meds, and about three weeks of uninterrupted sleep.

The door creaked open, and the unmistakable smell of something both vaguely expired and weirdly… minty? filled the air. You cracked open an eye and found yourself face-to-face with Beetlejuice, grinning as he hovered over you with something resembling concern. Or mischief. It was hard to tell with him.

“Oh, what’s this?” He crouched down, head tilted, putting his chin in his hands. “Somebody didn’t tell me they were planning to kick the bucket today. I coulda thrown a party!”

You gave a weak smile, too tired to argue. “I’m not dying, Beej… just a cold.”

He made a face, like the very idea was beneath him. “Cold? You mean you’re alive and still managing to look this awful?” He winked, but his voice softened a little. “Poor sucker… Well, lucky for you, you know the Ghost with the Most!”

“Oh no…” you muttered, already dreading what he might have in mind.

Beetlejuice wasn’t known for conventional cures, but before you could even attempt to protest, he snapped his fingers, and the room darkened for a split second before flickering back. When you opened your eyes, you saw he’d arranged a variety of bizarre items on your bedside table.

“Ta-da!” he sang, flourishing his hands. “The Beetlejuice Cure-All! Patent pending, results totally not guaranteed.”

You squinted at the collection. There was a bottle of something swampy green that sloshed a little too thickly, a small stack of something that looked like the world’s weirdest energy bars, and a bag of what you hoped were just dried herbs but had a suspicious, crunchy quality.

He held up the green bottle. “First things first: Beetlejuice’s Cough-Be-Gone Concoction! One sip of this, and bam! Sickness, begone!”

“Beej…” you eyed the liquid. “What’s in that?”

“Oh, you know... I dunno, let’s say ‘mystery slime’ from the Neitherworld.” He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Trust me, it’s a secret recipe.”

You narrowed your eyes. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed up, and even the faintest whiff of “mystery slime” was enough to make your stomach turn. “I am not doing this today,” you muttered, sinking deeper into your blankets.

Beetlejuice’s grin faltered just a bit, but he quickly bounced back, waving his hands theatrically. “Aw, c’mon, babe! Think of it as, I dunno, holistic medicine! Just one gulp of this beauty-"

You glared at him. “I’m already feeling nauseous. That thing is only gonna make it worse.”

He pouted, clutching the bubbling concoction like it was some treasured elixir. “Sheesh, tough crowd. Well, I got other ways to cheer ya up.” He snapped his fingers, and with a flash of green light, a parade of tiny skeletons appeared, each wearing a tiny top hat and doing an eerie little dance on the edge of your bed.

But you just groaned, pulling the blanket over your face. “Beetlejuice, I don’t have the energy for your... whatever this is.”

His shoulders slumped as the skeletons disappeared with a small poof. “Man, really tough audience tonight.” He hesitated, scratching his head as he glanced at you huddled up in your blanket, looking smaller and way more miserable than he was used to seeing. He leaned down to your level, his usual smirk fading as he tilted his head to study you.

“Hey,” he said softly, a note of actual worry slipping into his voice. “You really feeling that bad?”

Your eyes flicked to him, too tired to be annoyed anymore. “Yeah,” you muttered.

For a moment, Beetlejuice just stared, almost uncertain of what to do. Then he carefully set down his bubbling “potion,” took a deep breath, and plopped down next to you, close enough to feel his chilly presence.

“Well… alright then,” he said with a small shrug, as though convincing himself. “I can dial it down a bit. You, uh, need anything? More blankets? I got a stash of ‘em from the Neitherworld. They’re kinda… dusty. But hey, adds to the charm, right?”

You managed a small smile despite yourself. “I think I’m good on dust, thanks.”

He laughed softly, reaching over to pat your shoulder in a surprisingly gentle way. “Alright, alright. I’m here, y’know? Just… rest. I can keep the skeletons quiet for once.”

It was a rare side of him, seeing him actually worried—and for once, it felt like you might just let him take care of you.

[ficxworm]

Finding the Words

Pairing: Castiel x Dean Winchester

Tags: I don’t even know what to tag this as. I wrote this a few days ago in a desperate attempt to pretend the end of the show never happened.🙃

The bunker was quiet, heavy with an emptiness that lingered in every corner. Dean sat alone in the library, hunched over a half-empty whiskey bottle and a pile of unfinished research. He’d been drowning out the silence with work, but nothing could fill the void left by Castiel’s absence. Nothing could fill the ache of those last words Cas had left him with: “I love you, Dean.” He hadn’t had time to respond, hadn’t known what to say. By the time he did, it was too late.

Or so he thought.

A familiar flutter of wings filled the air, and Dean’s heart leapt. He stood slowly, the bottle slipping from his hand and hitting the floor with a dull thud, spilling across the concrete.

“Dean,” came the voice—low, steady, and achingly familiar.

Dean’s breath caught. He turned, and there he was. Castiel, standing in the doorway of the library, looking just as he had before he left. Maybe a little tired, a little worn, but real.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was thick with disbelief, and he could feel his hands start to shake.

“It’s me,” Castiel said, his lips curving into the smallest, warmest smile. “I’m here.”

Dean crossed the room in a few quick strides, grabbing Castiel’s coat as if to make sure he was real. “Cas, how—how did you…?”

“I fought my way back,” Castiel murmured, his eyes softening. “The Empty let me go, but only because I needed to be here. With you.”

Dean swallowed, his chest tightening with emotions he’d kept locked down for too long. He tried to think of something, anything to say, but all he could manage was, “I thought I’d lost you.”

Castiel reached up, his hand resting on Dean’s shoulder, grounding him. “I couldn’t leave things the way they were, Dean. Not after… not after what I told you.”

Dean’s eyes stung, but he forced himself to meet Cas’s gaze, swallowing hard. “Cas, when you said that to me… I didn’t say it back. I didn’t get to.”

Castiel’s expression softened, and he nodded. “I didn’t expect you to.”

Dean let out a shaky breath, one hand still clutching Cas’s coat, as if he’d disappear if he let go. “Well, you should have. Because, Cas, I…” He paused, his throat tightening as he searched for the words he’d buried for so long. “I love you, too.”

The words fell between them, raw and unguarded. Castiel’s face softened, his blue eyes filled with a warmth that seemed to reach into Dean’s soul. “Dean…”

Dean didn’t let him finish. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to Cas’s, his hands tightening on his shoulders. “I’m sorry it took me this long to say it. I was scared. But I’m done running from this—from you.”

Castiel closed his eyes, his own hand lifting to cup the side of Dean’s face. “You don’t have to run anymore.”

In the quiet of the bunker, Dean leaned in, his lips meeting Castiel’s in a kiss that was both soft and filled with a lifetime of unspoken promises. They stood there, wrapped up in each other, finding strength in a truth they’d both fought so hard to find.

When they finally pulled apart, Dean kept Cas close, his voice a rough whisper. “You’re not going anywhere again. You hear me?”

Castiel smiled, a quiet certainty in his eyes. “I hear you, Dean. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time, Dean felt at peace. They were both finally where they belonged—together, in a world that had finally let them find each other.

[fleming-o]

cozy love - Kika Nazereth X Reader

cute come home for dinner situation

1k

——

The kitchen is a warm haven tonight, the scent of simmering sauce mingling with the faint notes of your favorite playlist drifting from the speaker on the counter. Wearing one of Kika’s oversized jerseys, you hum along to the music, swaying your hips in time with the beat as you stir the pot on the stove. The sleeves are way too long on you, brushing your wrists, but there’s something comforting about being wrapped up in her clothes. It feels like she’s here, even though she isn’t—at least not yet.

You’re so caught up in the rhythm, in the cozy quiet of the evening, that you don’t hear the front door creak open or the soft sound of Kika slipping off her shoes. She’s supposed to be home a bit later, but the game wrapped up early, and she made her escape the moment she could. She’d been looking forward to coming home to you all day.

Kika pauses at the doorway, watching you with a grin spreading across her face. There’s something about seeing you like this, comfortable in her jersey, moving around the kitchen as if it’s your own personal stage. The sight makes her heart swell, filling her with an overwhelming rush of warmth. She could stand there all night, just soaking in this little moment, watching you be so effortlessly, beautifully yourself.

Quietly, she walks over, her footsteps softened by the music and your focus on stirring. Then she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you gently back into her chest. You jump slightly, caught off guard, but the familiar warmth of her embrace quickly melts any surprise. She rests her chin on your shoulder, smiling as she watches you stir the sauce.

“Hmm, something smells good,” she murmurs, her breath soft against your neck.

You smile, a flush of warmth rising to your cheeks. “Hey, I thought you were getting back later.”

“I couldn’t wait to come home,” Kika says, her voice a little softer than usual. She presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, lingering for a moment. “And look what I came back to—a whole dinner, and you looking way too cute in my jersey.”

You laugh, leaning back into her, letting her warmth soak into you. “I thought you wouldn’t mind me borrowing it,” you tease. “It’s cozy.”

She grins, her fingers tracing gentle patterns along your waist. “Borrow all you want, meu amor. It looks better on you anyway.”

A blush spreads across your face, but you tilt your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes are soft, affectionate, watching you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world right now. Her expression makes your heart skip, and for a moment, you forget about everything else—the food, the music, the rest of the world. It’s just the two of you, wrapped up in this little bubble of warmth and love.

She tilts her head, studying you with a soft smile. “You know,” she murmurs, “seeing you like this… it makes me fall for you all over again. Every single day.”

Your heart flutters, and you reach up to brush a stray curl from her forehead. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me,” you say, grinning.

Kika chuckles, pulling you closer, her hands gentle yet firm around your waist. “That’s exactly how I want it, querida,” she whispers, her eyes flicking down to your lips. Slowly, she leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s sweet and unhurried, like she’s savoring every second of it. Her hand moves to your cheek, thumb brushing softly as she deepens the kiss just slightly, making you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

When she finally pulls back, she rests her forehead against yours, her eyes still closed, as if she’s holding on to the moment. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this,” she says quietly.

A warmth spreads through you, and you wrap your arms around her, resting your head on her shoulder. “Me neither.”

For a while, you both just stand there, wrapped up in each other, letting the world fall away. The soft music continues to play in the background, creating a soundtrack to this little piece of heaven. Eventually, though, Kika peeks over your shoulder at the pot on the stove, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

“So,” she says, breaking the comfortable silence. “What masterpiece are you cooking for us tonight?”

You laugh, stirring the sauce as you glance at her over your shoulder. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a masterpiece, but I’m trying out a new pasta recipe. Figured I’d surprise you.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Você sabe o caminho para o meu coração,” she says with a grin, the Portuguese words rolling off her tongue easily. “You know the way to my heart.”

You roll your eyes, nudging her playfully. “Pretty sure I already found it a while ago.”

Kika’s laughter fills the kitchen, light and infectious. She takes a seat at the counter, propping her chin on her hands as she watches you finish up. There’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that feels like home. Every now and then, she’ll make a comment, asking what ingredients you used or teasing you about your focus as you put the final touches on the dish. You can feel her eyes on you, a gaze filled with so much love it almost makes you blush all over again.

Finally, the pasta’s ready, and you dish up two plates, setting them down on the small table you’ve set with candles for a cozy touch. Kika grins, her eyes lighting up at the sight. “Candles and everything? Você é demais,” she says, her voice full of admiration. “You’re really going all out, aren’t you?”

You shrug, a little shy. “I just wanted tonight to be special.”

She reaches across the table, taking your hand in hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Cada momento com você é especial,” she murmurs, her voice sincere. “Every moment with you is special.”

As you eat, you both talk about her game, laughing over funny moments and groaning about the tough plays. But it’s not just about the food or the stories—it’s about being together, sharing these small, perfect moments that make you both feel so lucky to have each other.

After dinner, Kika takes your hand, pulling you into a slow dance in the middle of the kitchen. There’s no music, just the faint hum of the city outside and the quiet sound of your laughter as you both sway together. Her arms wrap around you, holding you close, her heartbeat steady under your cheek. She presses a kiss to the top of your head, her voice a soft whisper in the stillness.

“Amo-te,” she murmurs, her words filled with a quiet certainty. “More than you could ever know.”

You look up at her, your heart full. “I love you too.”

As you stand there, wrapped in her arms, you realize that this is everything you could ever want—a cozy night, her by your side.

——

[zeropro]

What are your thoughts on transformers prime and transformers one?

TL:DR I liked both! TFP was my first Transformers show that I watched all the way through and TF1 was a lot of fun! Opinions on Starscream under the break pfpfpfpfpfpf

Prime was literally my first Transformers experience (Okay that's not true, I did see the first Bay movie when it came out but lets not talk about that). It's really good! My favorite character was Ratchet, I loved that he's just a tired, grumpy, racist old man and he's a doctor. Knock Out was the best thing to come out of TFP and he really should be in more stuff. Really would have loved a fourth season but it wouldn't have been the same without the children around. I liked what we got!

Prime has an excellent Starscream, Steve Blume does an amazing performance with both his deep conniving gravel and his high pitched terrified sputtering. So much character in his animation too, especially in later seasons, and an incredibly compelling character arc. Prime Starscream is not a good person, but I would burn the world for him, and I like the small moments in the show that hint at something in his character that could be turned to good, but circumstance always works against him in that regard. He's just so pathetic, but also competent and dangerous, all the best qualities of a Starscream and a very unique design!

Transformers One was quite good, I was worried because of the trailers but I was surprised by how well executed it all was. None of the characters were annoying, and making Optimus Prime originally one of the oppressed class alongside Megatron was a good move. The scene where Orion gives Dee the sticker is so cute, I simply cannot. The ending felt a bit rushed but what can you do, it wasnt so bad that it's a problem for me.

I would have loved just a little more Starscream in the movie! Like, I knew he wasn't really gonna be in the movie much so i was prepared for it to be little more than a glorified cameo, but I loved a lot of what we did get and I feel like it was missing just a little bit more! Like, the whole High Guard turned rogue backstory he has is great, implies some honor to his character since he didnt keep serving Sentinal when the guy turned Cybertron over to the Quintissance. I think it's hilarious that Starscream is so much older than Megatron. Like, they gave us a lot of food to make headcanons out of, but then the rushed ending kind of left me with no real reason given for him and the rest of the High Guard to go with Megatron without a fight. Like, I think the reason given was that, because Megatron beat him up that one time, and then killed Sentinal, and since the High Guard became a might makes right society and hates Sentinal, I guess thats why they are loyal to him now. And I guess the one line where Starscream is like "all hail megatron" is supposed to indicate he's 100% behind Megatron now and not just a spur of the moment thing. And I guess them following his command to destroy the city is why theyre being banished. But like...idk, every other plot point was well established and properly played out, and the whole decepticons thing just didnt really feel like enough, and i kind of feel like it should have been more clearly communicated considering its an entire one side of a two sided war? I feel like we werent shown the high guard doing anything egregiously bad besides attacking people because megatron told them to.

Like, there's nothing in the movie to suggest that Starscream and the High Guard arent still loyal to the Primes. So when Orion comes back as a prime, like a proper prime, with the matrix and everything, which everyone knows will make the energon flow again, I'm surprised Starscream didnt at least try to make excuses or worm his way into avoiding banishment? My headcanon is he wanted to kill Sentinal as bad as Megatron and so when Megatron finally does what he failed to do for 50 cycles, he's like aite im ride or die for this guy. Maybe 50 cycles of living in the wilderness doing nothing but scout and pit fight all day changes a guy and they dont wanna live in a society anymore. Why dont they accept Optimus as the new prime? They helped him and Elita save their friends, and unlike Sentinal Optimus has the actual Matrix this time. Idk mang. Woulda liked a bit more.

Transformers One, not my favorite design for Starscream. The head vents going wide at the bottom look weird to me, and his legs are so long and flat.

Thems my opinions!

[writingtraumaforever]

Uncontrolled Chaos: Chapter 15

Notes: And we're back and with the longest chapter yet! I'm feeling much better now and want to thank everyone for the well-wishes and patience! I do want to give a heads up that with the holidays coming up, I will likely be a bit busier and not able to update EVERY day as I did previously. But I still hope to pump our 2 or 3 chapters a week! Stay in the loop on my tumblr, and thank you all for your support!!

Summary: Sonic and Shadow are tense after their interaction in the valley. However, Shadow finds a curious object and needs Sonic's answers.

Chapter Select!

Link to my AO3!

Start:

Sonic just had to open his big mouth. He had finally felt like he was getting this new Shadow to open up some to him and not be so distant. And then he had to go and use the ‘M’ word, and that’s all it took.

It was just like all those years ago when he first brought Shadow home from Eggman’s base. Back to square one. And it was exhausting for Sonic.

He was so used to being able to just.. touch Shadow. To be with him with little-to-no bounds aside from the healthy ones placed. To be able to hold his hand, give him little nuzzles on his cheek to calm him, kiss his ears when they started to twitch from constantly being on high alert..

This Shadow had all the same ticks as his own Shadow, and yet Sonic had no idea how he was supposed to handle him. Frankly, he’s a bit too scared to touch this Shadow considering how he reacted to Sonic’s minor touches when he first woke up here..

And now he feels further away from him than ever. 

Sonic arrived back at Shadow’s house to all the lights being turned off and his bedroom door shut. New Shadow is inside. Sonic can smell him. The lingering scent of lavender and grass on him..

Sighing, Sonic locks the door behind him with his key– yes, he has a key to Shadow’s house because it’s not really Shadow’s house anymore, it’s their house, but stupid new Shadow is making Sonic feel like an uncomfortable guest in his own damn home–

Anyway.

Ears drooped back, Sonic walks to the stairs and takes a single step up them before pausing. Gloved hand grips the railing tight, brows knit as he looks up at the darkness above. The closed door. His lips purse tight, jaw jutting out in determination before that determination fades and leaves him feeling deflated and just.. Tired.

He breathes a long breath out, letting go of the railing to instead turn to the living room.

He could sleep on the couch.

But he doubts he’ll be doing much sleeping.

Taking out his phone, he unlocks the door once again to walk back outside and shut it behind him. 

‘Hey buddy. New Shadow and I are back home if you need us. Call me if you have any updates, please..’

Send. He sighs and pockets his phone again, looking up at the stars. The half moon in the sky.

Shadow and Sonic always would tease each other about the moon. Sonic telling Shadow it was the result of his biggest temper tantrum yet.

But on a more serious note, they’d always find comfort in knowing no matter where they were, they were both looking at that same broken half moon.. Sonic trying to associate it with something positive rather than Shadow being manipulated.

He wonders if Shadow is looking at that same moon wherever he is..

Or if he’s even looking at a moon at all.

If he’s even–

“Woah, Sonic..,” the blue hedgehog hushes his thoughts, tail tucking down between his legs as he shuts his eyes and calms his breathing he hadn’t realized was even picking up, “Don’t even go there..”

He can’t. He might lose it if he thinks like that.

Walking over to the nearby tree in the front yard, Sonic begins to hops up and swing himself up the branches. Couches were never really his thing. Neither were beds, honestly, until he started sharing one with Shadow. Nah, he was a free spirit. Didn’t have a home. Didn’t have a roof. Instead, he preferred trees or caves or the occasional rooftop or top of a lamppost if he was in the city.

And if he could just so happen to sneak a peek inside Shadow’s bedroom through the window from the branches, that’s just an added bonus.

Settling on a thicker and less shaky branch near the middle of the tree, Sonic finds himself perfectly nestled and tucked in the leaves.. and angled at Shadow’s room.

It’s not creepy, okay?? He just.. needs to keep an eye on him. He doesn’t know anything about this Shadow or what he’s capable of.

Plus, a piece of him worries.. Different Shadow or not, it’s still Shadow. And Sonic can’t not care.

It breaks his heart, honestly. Thinking about how this Shadow had to learn how to be okay all by himself. Thinking about this Shadow going through all of the Black Arms invasion alone. All of that chaos in the White Space by himself. No support system. No comfort.

It honestly makes Sonic pissed at whatever version of himself doesn’t care enough to be there for him.. Whatever version of himself that didn’t care enough to look for him.

Sighing in frustration at the thought, Sonic’s attention is soon caught by movement in the window. The glare of the moon on the glass makes it a bit difficult to see, but he can make out Shadow’s silhouette walking around the room. Pulling drawers open, looking through his closet, under the bed.

Investigating.

Sonic imagines he’d be doing the same thing too if he were pulled into another world and was staying at an alternate version of himself’s house. He’d be curious, no doubt.

This Shadow seems more than just curious, though. He seems.. frustrated. Overwhelmed. Desperate for answers or reason. His eyes are glaring but look more lost than angry. His ears are pointed as if refusing to droop back and show weakness or vulnerability. Stubborn. But Sonic knows Shadow. And he knows when Shadow is upset, his back quills twitch in a defensive bristle sort of way.. 

This Shadow is no different.

His chest aches knowing he can’t go in there and comfort the guy. Fix things. Make them not so scary for the guy, not so confusing. But he imagines that he himself is half the problem on why Shadow is so overwhelmed in the first place.

It’s not every day you wake up dating your rival.

Shadow seems discontent with most things he finds, but when he opens the nightstand on Sonic’s side of the bed, he pauses.

Sonic holds his breath for the reaction, expecting something angry or similar to a suppressed child throwing a tantrum. An explosion.

Instead, he watches how Shadow reaches into the nightstand and pulls out the contents.

It only takes a few moments for Sonic to realize it’s his shoe box. Sonic is often not seen as sentimental, but he cares privately. He keeps things most people overlook. Things many wouldn’t appreciate the way he would.

Shadow sits on the side of the bed, box in his lap, and opens it slowly like he fears what he may find inside.

Sonic wonders what’s going through his head when he sees it’s just a bunch of silly trinkets and souvenirs. 

He looks annoyed at first. Then perplexed. Then thoughtful..

He watches crimson eyes skim over each item in the box, lifting a few and sniffing them before placing them down ever so carefully precisely where he found them. 

His frustration heightens, and then all at once, diminishes. Like he’s coming to some sort of realization..

Sonic frowns a bit, watching the distressed hedgehog through the window from his branch..

Shadow keeps the box and its contents in hand and then stands from the bed, pausing only briefly before moving towards the door. Sonic immediately sits up at this, brows knitting as he quickly tries to shuffle down from the branch he’d been resting on. If Shadow is gonna go looking for him, he wants to be there.

In his haste to try and get down, though, his foot snaps a jutting out twig. Sonic doesn’t think much of it until he hears the swift roll and snap of a window opening.

Emerald eyes widen and return to the bedroom window only to see Shadow leaning out it with wide ruby eyes staring right back.

“...”

“...”

“...Sooo..,” Sonic smiles nervously, “Fancy meeting you here..” “Were you spying on me??” “Me?? Pshhh. No. Why would I do that–” “You aren’t convincing in the slightest.” “Your face isn’t convincing.” “I’m not trying to be convincing.”

“That’s not–” Sonic groans and rubs a hand down his face with a sigh, “Nevermind. I wasn’t trying to spy on you. I just-”

Shadow’s head tilts at the hedgehog, an eyebrow raising expectantly and Sonic just gives way too quickly. “Okay. I was spying. But it was with good intentions. I was worried about you,” he confesses with a little frown, his ears folding back. Shadow blinks at this, his face going neutral as he looks off to the side a moment. “I think I might have went to far back there in the valley. This whole thing has got to be super overwhelming for you, and I pushed some pretty heavy subjects pretty quick. It’s a… personality flaw of mine..”

Shadow frowns at this, looking back to Sonic now as if sizing him up.

Sonic just keeps nervous rambling, “Plus, I didn’t wanna leave you in a strange new world all alone, and I don’t really do couches–” “You live here,” Shadow interrupts, Sonic going silent with a quiet “huh??” Thrown off by the sudden observation. “You live here… in my home,” Shadow elaborates, looking back at the box he had left on the bed, “...You sleep in my room..”

Sonic feels his nerves ramp up even more, “Uhh-”

“You said our home when I first woke up..”

Sonic swallows. Then nods. “Yeah. I did.”

“...”

Shadow seems to think this through for a solid minute, Sonic not saying a word as he watches not a single emotion cross that stoic face but many roll through crimson eyes.

“...You should sleep in here,” Shadow concludes after the long silence, nearly knocking Sonic out of the tree in shock. “Huh???” “This is your bed. You should sleep here. Not me,” Shadow says simply, stepping back from the window as if expecting Sonic to jump on in.

Sonic just stays still.

“..Nah, man, I can just chill out here for the night–”

“Get inside.”

“Okay.”

Sonic ain’t about to question that tone, moving to the edge of the branch carefully before jumping inside through the window with ease. Landing next to Shadow, Sonic watches the ebony hedgehog immediately close the pane back up before turning to the bed without a word.

Sonic watches as Shadow picks up the box again and turns back to Sonic, “I’ll let you have the bed, I’ll take the guest room. But you have to explain this first.”

He doesn’t look angry. He looks like he genuinely just wants to understand what the hell is in that box.

Sonic looks at Shadow a long moment. Then the box. Then Shadow again. Then he snorts with a small shrug and, “Okay..” Reaching to take the box, Sonic watches Shadow slowly give it to him before retracting and crossing his arms a bit uncomfortably.

Sonic offers a tiny smile before nodding his head to the bed where he and Shadow both sit. Sonic opens the shoe box, placing the lid to the side before looking to Shadow, “What ya wanna know??” “All of it..,” Shadow says quietly, furrowing his brows at the contents of the box again as if trying to understand.

“You sure you wanna know? Can’t get mad at what I tell ya..” “Just tell me, hedgehog,” Shadow huffs, “And start with the eggshells.”

Sonic smirks a bit at that, “Okay, okay, bossy..”

He reaches down and picks up the broken eggshell ever so delicately. Like it’s precious. Because it is. To him.

“This is an eggshell from the first time you cooked me breakfast here,” Sonic explains simply, glancing to Shadow for his reaction.

Shadow’s tense form seems to relax a bit at that, curiosity taking over his defensiveness as he tilts his head and looks at Sonic, “You… kept the eggshells??” “Well– yeah? Dug them out of the garbage after I ate.” “...Why??”

“I dunno,” Sonic shrugs, looking at the eggshell fondly, “Never had someone cook me breakfast before. Not outside Tails, anyway, and he don’t count.” Shadow hums at this, pondering this information a moment before nodding his head as if to say ‘continue’. Sonic puts the eggshell back and picks up the crumpled up napkin.

He unfolds it and shows Shadow, “Okay. So this doesn’t look special, but if you look super close, you can see tiny hearts and ‘S’ indents pressed from your claw all over it. We were on a date, and I noticed you kept fiddling and drawing invisible picture with your finger on your napkin. So I grabbed it before we left to look later..” Shadow points to a orange stain on the side, “What’s that??” “Oh. Spaghetti sauce,” Sonic chuckles with a fond grin, “You’re a very clean eater, but no one can eat spaghetti and not get a little messy.” Shadow nods at this in silent agreement, watching Sonic put the napkin back in the box before picking up the next item. “This is the fishing hook from the first time you and I went fishing with Big,” Sonic explains, “It was your idea not long after the Time Eater fiasco. I wasn’t too keen on it since I’m not a fan of being on a rowboat in the water, but I wasn’t gonna discourage you from making new friends. I ended up falling in the water and panicking at one point only to stand up once I realized it was shallow. You laughed so damn hard, I’ve never seen you looking so relaxed and open around someone else.”

Next item. “This is actually from Cream,” it’s a picture drawn in crayon of Sonic and Shadow holding hands with big smiles, Cream off to the side in a white dress, “She um–” he clears his throat awkwardly, “She said she was our flower girl.. I thought it was funny. You thought it was sweet.” Shadow doesn’t say anything about this, and Sonic puts it away quickly before continuing on to the next item. 

A tiny stuffed banana wearing a cowboy hat Shadow won Sonic at a carnival.

Shadow’s comb he left at Tails’ house once.

A feather that Knuckles had braided into Shadow’s quills at a traditional gathering on Angel Island.

The first book Shadow ever gave Sonic, ‘Floriculture: How To Speak Flower’ complete with a pressed lavender inside bookmarking the page on how they represent ‘devotion’.

Magnets of all the places they’ve traveled together.

A rock Sonic picked up the day he found Shadow.

All these things that would seem so silly to most, Sonic has stowed away as prized possessions in this box.

Shadow sits quietly, listening as Sonic explains each one with the brightest smile on his face.

And when he’s done, Shadow’s eyes lift to find Sonic looking teary eyed despite his smile.

Shadow doesn’t show any signs of concern, but his eyes are sympathetic..

“And uh, yeah,” Sonic smiles, closing the box up and pretending he isn’t getting a bit sniffly, “That’s about it.”

“...Why do you keep these things??” Sonic shrugs, “I dunno,” he sniffles a bit and blinks his tears away, “Helps me feel better when I’m sad.” “They’re making you cry right now.” “I’m not crying.” “Yes, you are.”

“Anyway, I just.. miss my Shadow. That’s all.”

Shadow frowns at this, looking at Sonic a long moment with wonder in his eyes. He’s never seen Sonic look so.. sincere. He didn’t realize he was so sentimental.. Or that he could ever care so much about something like this..

Sonic takes a breath then looks at Shadow, “Look. I’m really sorry about what happened earlier. And I know I overstepped. But you gotta understand.. This is all scary for me, too..” Shadow blinks. Never heard Sonic admit to being scared. And the earnestness in Sonic’s eyes throws him off a bit. Leaves him questioning a lot..

But most of all, it leaves him having empathy for the blue blur.

“...I apologize for making this all about me,” Shadow mutters after a pause, and it’s Sonic’s turn to look thrown off. “I rightfully am overwhelmed with all of this, but in that overwhelment, I didn’t stop to fully consider how this is affecting you.. I pieced together your relationship with your Shadow pretty early on, and yet I still excused it as more of a joke to you rather than something serious..”

He looks at the closed box. “I now see I was mistaken..”

Shadow understands loss. And he understands how scary the idea of never seeing someone you love again is..

He also remembers how he felt when he had seen Maria again in the White Space… the false hope it would give him despite knowing she wasn’t his to keep..

Sonic is going through that same thing every time he looks at Shadow.. He misses his own.

And despite how disgusted or confused it makes Shadow to think any version of himself could possibly be with that insolent hedgehog.. It is the reality here in this world. And he can’t dismiss that simply because it’s not his own.

Sonic is quiet a long pause, looking at Shadow like he’s thinking something over..

And then he’s smiling. And before Shadow can process what’s happening, he feels strong, long arms wrapped tight around him and soft, tan fur pressed to his chest. 

Sonic is hugging him.

Shadow tenses up briefly… never having been hugged by anyone since Maria..

Most are too intimidated for such a thing..

And rightfully so..

And yet, every fiber of Shadow’s Ultimate being was vibrating with ecstasy at the touch.. A sense of comfort immediately swelling over him as he gradually relaxes against Sonic’s hold. He didn’t realize just how touch-starved  he really was. It wasn’t so bad when he allowed it..

He slowly lifts a hand to gently rest on the blue hedgehog’s back just under his quills. 

And while no one sees it except that half blown away moon gazing through the window, Shadow smiles.

[arolesbianism]

Some Brute doodles plus a bonus Button

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)

synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break

word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)

contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry

notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak

everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.

they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.

you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder. 

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence. 

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six. 

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard. 

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you. 

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him? 

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs. 

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better. 

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop. 

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines. 

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his. 

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone. 

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction. 

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru. 

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower. 

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you. 

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you. 

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends. 

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted. 

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four. 

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new. 

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome. 

scarily handsome, in fact. 

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend. 

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen. 

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk. 

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused. 

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle. 

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him. 

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it. 

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it. 

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information. 

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips. 

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble. 

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone. 

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples. 

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb. 

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign. 

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up. 

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you. 

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal. 

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale. 

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face. 

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him. 

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night. 

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length. 

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more. 

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you. 

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him. 

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans. 

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness. 

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you. 

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever. 

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin. 

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything

[cntloup]

Gojo Satoru x pregnant!reader

protective!Satoru, fluff, a lil angst, mention of feeling guilty, implied heavy symptoms experienced by the reader

"it's ok, baby. i've got it." Satoru says as he approaches your slouched form over the sink, washing the dishes as you try to get something done and make yourself useful.

you've been feeling guilty during the past month or so, feeling like you were a burden to him, thinking that you would never live up to his expectations. now he has to take care of you. and as time goes by, it will get even worse as your pregnancy progresses. but he's a busy man with heavy responsibilities. you'd be only holding him back. you torture yourself with these thoughts every day.

"oh, thanks. i'll go clean up the living room and do the laundry then." you respond with a forced smile, trying to mask the guilt that's been gnawing at you for a while as you try to keep yourself from falling over out of dizziness.

"what? no, wait! i'll do it after i wash the dishes. you go get some rest. you've done enough." he retorts while gently grabbing your arm, voice slightly raised to stop you immediately.

he is in utter disbelief at your behavior. you should be resting right now, tucked in beneath the soft sheets peacefully. you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about anything, he thinks.

"i haven't done anything all day." you utter in a faintly frustrated tone, mostly at yourself.

"and that's exactly how it should be." he replies with a nod, "now go to bed before i drag you there myself." he adds, maintaining a playful tone, a soft smile adorning his features as he drinks in your beauty. you're already glowing. but considering how observant he is, he senses your discomfort immediately like he can actually feel the gloom and sorrow you're feeling right now like a mother hen.

"what is it, baby? tell me." he murmurs as he walks up to you and pulls you into him by your hips, shining blue eyes staring at you as he awaits a response.

his hand rests on your side as the other cups your jaw, his thumb swiping over your cheek that could be dampened any moment now as you feel tears threatening to spill.

"i'm so sorry." you whisper breathily, voice slightly quivering with the lump in your throat as you look up into his glowing eyes.

"for what?" he asks, confusion evident on his features.

"for being weak. i'm so sorry to disappoint you." you finally spill out the words that have been weighing heavily on your chest as the tears cascade down your glossy eyes.

"disappoint me? i don't understand... why are you crying, love?" he mutters with a shake of his head, his confusion growing even more by your words as his fingers swipe over your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears.

"you're literally the strongest and you're stuck with me. i'm barely even showing yet and i'm feeling extreme fatigue. i've been sleeping all day for the past month cause i can't do anything. and because of the symptoms, i'll probably have to quit my job." you ramble about the thoughts that have been pulling you down all this time.

"wait, wait, wait! how long have you been feeling like this?" he questions with widened eyes baring into your soul.

"eversince we found out i was pregnant. i can't stop feeling guilty about disappointing you." you reply quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it. of course you know you're being irrational. it's all natural to be tired during this time and need help, but you just can't help it.

"you've been feeling like this all this time and you didn't tell me anything?" he blurts out almost too aggressively to his liking, "sorry. didn't mean it to come out that way." he quickly apologizes after witnessing the slight flinch on your part.

how could he not see it? you've been trying to do the chores like regular, pushing yourself to your limit both in the house and on your job until he swoops in and takes the weight off your shoulders. now he starts to blame himself for not finding out sooner and letting you wallow in your own sadness and guilt all alone.

"you're not weak, baby. you're doing the one thing that i can't possibly ever do. the one thing that the strongest can't do. and what does that make you? huh? you're literally the strongest of all, babe. i can't even fathom what you're going through and you're doing amazing-", "i'm barely functioning." you cut him off.

"i'm not done yet, babe." he says playfully before continuing, "you're doing amazing, honey. you sleep not because you can't do anything else but because you need it. you're carrying our child for fuck's sake. a literal human's life is growing inside you and of course it takes its toll on you. and i'm right here beside you every step of the way." he finishes his loving speech with a tender kiss on your forehead as his strong arms wrap around your now slightly shaking form as you sob, utterly moved by his words and also the hormones.

"thank you, Satoru. i really appreciate it. you always know what to say when i'm feeling down." your words are cut off by loud sobs but he patiently waits for you to finish as he rubs your back soothingly while nuzzling his face in your neck.

"any time, baby. i love you." he whispers in your ear, "i love you too, toru." you say back, continuing to sob in his arms for a while before you eventually calm down and he guides you to bed, encouraging you to take some much-needed rest.

"and don't worry about your job. you can take some time off or quit altogether. i have more than enough to pay for our family and the next generations to come-", "ok, stop bragging!" you chuckle, "i'm just saying, baby. i've been dying to spoil you. now's my chance. let me take care of you. you don't have to go through this alone. in fact, i won't even let you." he chuckles lightly and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling away with a loud smack as you both lay in bed, limbs tangled together, "you already spoil me." you mention with a slight pout, "and i'm gonna do it even more. you deserve it, baby. don't worry about anything. i've got it." he says while softly caressing your cheek, admiring your glowing beauty illuminated by the faint bedside light.

you slowly start to feel the sleep creeping in and drift away into a slumber as you mumble a quiet 'thank you', curling into Satoru's side as he holds you so lovingly while you think to yourself how you've been blessed with the best, most loving and supportive partner anyone could ever ask for.

[not-neverland06]

n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)

(one chance please, just one chance with him)

“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”

Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress. 

You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other. 

At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since. 

Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn. 

You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer. 

You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face. 

It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy. 

But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…

You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face. 

Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound. 

Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”

“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.” 

You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel. 

There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now. 

The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan. 

You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar. 

Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense. 

Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her. 

Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be. 

You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out. 

It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer. 

“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here. 

Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”

“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”

“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt. 

You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”

You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?

So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit. 

You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers. 

Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom. 

Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar. 

“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”

Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.” 

It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that. 

Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him. 

Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.

Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”

Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”

You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all. 

Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations. 

It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice. 

You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title. 

Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.

Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break. 

That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.

You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar. 

He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you. 

He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?

You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind. 

You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish. 

You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across. 

You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now. 

You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him. 

“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”

He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question. 

It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone. 

There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”

The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word. 

You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.

He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”

You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you. 

You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel. 

You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you. 

You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name. 

You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside. 

You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles. 

It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream. 

Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion. 

“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away. 

You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force. 

“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window. 

“That tree was a hundred years old.”

You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise. 

“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation. 

There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown. 

“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”

“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it. 

You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”

The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout. 

“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid. 

“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”

“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?” 

You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”

He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”

You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him. 

There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed. 

Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you. 

Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry. 

Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands. 

Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy. 

But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore. 

There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry. 

“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess. 

“You look like shit.” 

Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands. 

“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”

“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath. 

“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears. 

“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all. 

“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”

Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head. 

You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah. 

This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now. 

“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything. 

You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night. 

“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her. 

It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you. 

That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you. 

It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit. 

But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions. 

He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree. 

Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place. 

He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside. 

He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”

“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.

Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”

That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that. 

You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again. 

But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day. 

He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?

He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together. 

He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head. 

He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off. 

But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now. 

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.

“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.” 

Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it. 

She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”

Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem. 

A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs. 

Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you. 

Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes. 

Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.

Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.

You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out. 

Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is. 

“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench. 

You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”

He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan. 

Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in. 

He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other. 

You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan. 

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit. 

You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead. 

You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”

He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”

You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him. 

“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head. 

He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this. 

But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him. 

He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out. 

“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care. 

You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic. 

Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him. 

Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face. 

You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic. 

You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care. 

One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back. 

He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care. 

You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. 

He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building. 

You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat. 

You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out. 

It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over. 

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him. 

His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go. 

Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you. 

You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”

Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”

You glare over your shoulder at him  “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you. 

Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge. 

The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing. 

You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss. 

He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place. 

You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy. 

But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for. 

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered. 

“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”

You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”

“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other. 

You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back. 

But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.

You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.  

It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 

You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings. 

And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”

He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” 

You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it. 

A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.