#but I try to survive so one day I can take a breath and not feel choked by fear about whether or not I can put food on the table

[quietstormxr]

Found You Again

You'll Survive - Part 2

Garrick Tavis x Reader

Angst/Violence/PTSD

Minor Iron Flame spoilers

Summary: After Garrick finds you still alive, you both have to deal with the consequences of torture, the coming war, and your relationship.

Word Count: <10k

A/N: Get a beverage and get comfy, this is going to be a long one. Got a little carried away with this one, so it's going to be three parts. I have a few more scenes I want to add and didn't want to cram them all here! Hope y'all don't mind.

All it takes is a moment and you are shooting up from the bed that you had apparently been laying in. A scream still tearing from your throat as you scan your surroundings frantically. There are beads of sweat pouring from your temples and you can feel your heart beating a rapid staccato that you can’t seem to control. 

As you continue to heave breaths in and out you wildly search from left to right for any threats, the lingering phantom of hands holding you down ghosting across your skin. 

Your eyes finally snag on another pair staring at you with agonizing sorrow. You can’t help the way you scramble back out of the bed and as far away from the figure as you can. Your brain tries to remind you this figure won’t hurt you, but you can’t seem to connect the thoughts with the remnants of your dream that felt more like reality.

Your back finally hits cold stone and that makes you turn and jump again; memories of your head being smashed into the same type of stone only days ago vivid in your mind.

As the present slowly comes into focus and your dream fades away, your heartbeat slowing to a more reasonable rhythm, you finally begin to process the room in front of you. 

There’s no longer the smell of rotten earth and the metallic iron of dried blood, the floors are clean and there’s a large window showing the beginning cracks of sunlight rising from the horizon. You try to continue taking deep breaths as your gaze finally sweeps back to the pair of eyes that had you scrambling back before.

You meet the hazel gaze that shines with unshed tears and a sorrowful look on his face that you had never seen before. No one could miss the way that he is holding himself to the chair that he has been sitting in, obviously an effort not to move or scare you. You can hear the wood of the chair creaking under the pressure and his knuckles turning his pale skin even whiter.   

You both stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, neither one of you speaking seeming to not want to break the spell that you’re both in. 

You slowly begin to straighten yourself from the shrunken in shape you had taken when waking from your nightmare. As you do, you notice that you are no longer in your torn and shredded flight leathers you were tortured in. Now, you are in oversized training clothes that you know must be Garrick’s. Your hand moves to your hair and the strands slide through your fingers. Someone must have bathed and changed you after you were mended.

You continue to look around the room you are in and take in the way that it looks lived in and has notes of Garrick all around. There’s a tapestry over the large inner wall that has a desk in front of it and a weapons rack right next to it. You can’t help the way you notice the number of swords that are littered on the other wall making rainbow of glittering sharp weapons.

Out the corner of your eye, you can see Garrick’s form slowly move from grasping the chair with a death grip to relaxing his hands in his lap. You swallow, noting the scratch of your throat as you do. The memory of the scream you awoke to striking in your mind. You bring your hand up to your throat and tap, hoping that he will understand the gesture and get you some water. 

Garrick gives you a short nod before he moves to the small table that is beside the bed. You watch as he pours a glass of water before turning back to you and slowly making his way to where you stand. Neither one of you deigns to speak as if either of you do the spell will be broken. 

As he hands you the glass, you give him a curt nod before taking a few steps out of his reach. His eyes continue to look pained, and his arm falls back to his side as if in defeat. 

You slowly take sips of the water trying to relish in the way the liquid quells the scratch of your throat. It doesn’t escape your notice that something that was so trivial now seems to be such a luxury. The use of your hands, a mended body, the ability to move away from someone whether a threat or not. You hold onto the glass with both hands as you continue to drink the water while walking back to the bed. You sit on the side and let your body drop back in relief of not being restrained. 

Emotions hit you hard suddenly and you look at your hands noticing the way they’ve begun to tremble. You let yourself slide from the bed onto the floor carefully placing the glass at your side. As you finally make contact with the ground, you clasp your hands together trying to steady them. Leaning your head against the mattress, you can’t control the gasp that leaves your mouth as your throat constricts and tears begin to stream down your face. You continue to take gasping breaths as the tears fall and your head stays firmly planted against the mattress. 

As the fog of emotion slowly begins to clear, you hear carefully measured footsteps come towards you. Turning your head slightly, you watch as Garrick comes towards you slowly. He crouches down not far from where you’ve melted into the floor, and you notice the tear streaks that mar his pale cheeks. Your gazes collide and there’s nothing but raw, charged emotion hanging in the air. If the last week had never happened, you would be laughing at the way the mountain of muscle before you had become so tentative. Gone was the bravado and over-confident air that seemed to follow him around.

“C-Ca-Can I touch you?” He questions stammering, his tone quiet and reserved. 

Your mind is suddenly a cacophony of thoughts. The anger that you’d been clinging onto burning bright, the fear of anyone touching you in any way, and the undeniable want to be held close and safe by the man in front of you waging a war on every front. 

“P – Please don’t.” You whisper as the fear and then anger win out over the softer emotions roiling within you. 

You know that the fear you’re feeling must have leeched into your voice, because it’s almost as if you can see the heart of the man in front of you breaking as the words leave your mouth. 

“What can I do?” He mumbles as he seems to waver on how exactly to move forward. 

You look at him with a mix of sadness, resolve, and anger in your features before replying. “Nothing.”

The fear and helplessness you were feeling moments ago morphing into the relentless anger that you had harbored for the man sitting next to you. It’s with that spark of fire that ignites in your body that you find yourself getting up from the floor and marching towards the door.

“Wait!” Garrick calls from behind you as you go to open the door. You’re immediately met with a barrage of sounds that cause you to shrink back. Your eyes wide with pure fear, darting back and forth among the cadets that seem to be milling about wherever you are. 

You immediately close the door again, your breaths coming in ragged pants as you plaster yourself to the back of the door. Terrified eyes look back up at Garrick before the questions start rapid firing in your mind.

“Wh-where are we?” The question coming out with pure confusion laced in your words. You knew you couldn’t be at Basgiath, but all those people couldn’t possibly be lieutenants. 

“You’re at Riorson House in Aretia.” He says in a calm tone.

“Who are all those people?” Your brows furrow trying to make sense of everything that’s happening all at once.

“They are all the cadets that defected when Riorson and I came for Violet.” As he continues to explain, you watch as he slowly moved forward. His hands are fisted at his sides and look as if they are trying to hold him in place. 

“When I finally found you again.” He continues as if the thought of getting to Basgiath for anyone but you wasn’t worth his time to dwell on. His hand starts to reach out for you of its own accord, but he finally realizes, and it falls back to his side.

As the facts start taking shape in your mind, you can’t help the confusion that seems to blanket you as well. 

“Defected? Are you telling me that you took me, injured, from the little protections that Navarre does offer?” You incredulously look back at him, your eyes boring into his soul.

Garrick seems taken aback by your phrasing of the question and rage flashes in his eyes. “What protections?” His voice starts to raise slightly as the anger builds.

“Do you really think torturing you within an inch of your life is much protection? Of course, I fucking took you! I wasn’t leaving you with those sadistic fuckers.” He hisses, the switch to anger turning palpable as you see memories haunt his face.

He stops just a few steps from you and brings his face down to be level with yours. “And I would fucking do it again if it means knowing you are safe. I don’t give a shit whether you like it or not.”

Your face contorts into a sneer as the anger you felt before being taken roars back to life. But you aren’t complaining because at least the anger can drown out the fear. With that knowledge, you turn again back to the door and fling it open while Garrick tries to grab your arm, the fear you had shown him forgotten as he tries to catch up with you. 

You have no idea where you are going, you are just moving down the hallway trying to get away from the man that is yelling your name. You slink through the cadets that are milling about as fast as you can, using your smaller agile frame against Garrick’s herculean form. You descend the stairs and find a door open to the left and swiftly enter trying to escape. 

Unfortunately, it seems Zinhal has other plans for you today. As you suddenly come to a halt you look around and see that you’re obviously now in a training room that regrettably contains Bodhi, Xaden, and Imogen. The three of them turn to you with slight shock on their faces before you can hear Garrick’s voice burst into the room.

“Y/N.” He breathes in an exasperated breath before looking at the other three gathered as well. His eyes seeming to zero in on Bodhi.

You watch as Garrick stomps over to Bodhi with deadly intent. His uncertainty on how to handle the situation with you crumbling all the restraint left to his anger, fear, rage, and powerlessness to fix the torture you had to endure.

“You.” He growls menacingly while staring at him with a murderous gleam. 

“You knew she was fucking alive and didn’t think to tell me!” He roars. “I never thought my ‘brother’ would keep something like that from me.”

Bodhi’s face falls completely and that’s when you know that you must step in. You may not be overly friendly with Bodhi, but he doesn’t deserve to be treated badly because of the spot you put him in. You walk in between the two right before Garrick goes to grab Bodhi’s collar. You push Garrick’s hand aside and look up at him with a fire dancing in your own eyes.

“I made that decision for him.” You utter coldly. 

Garrick finally removes his gaze from Bodhi and looks down at you, the anger in his eyes softening in some of its sharpness. 

“Bodhi told me to write you the minute he saw me land at Basgiath, but I tied his hands.” You explain with no hint of remorse. “You left me behind, all while your little pink girlfriend smirked at me in smug satisfaction. You showed your cards to me, remember?”

Garrick’s anger seems to evaporate, and his entire expression turns into regret, but this time you aren’t swayed. 

“Then I went to Eltuval and found myself alone on patrol and learning that venin and wyvern were real. Alone. Something I believe you know a little about.” You add sarcastically as you gesture to the expanse of Riorson House. 

Your anger at the whole situation and what you had to face alone comes rushing back. A derisive laugh bubbling up at the predicament you find yourself in.

“You left me behind, told me I would survive without you, then I was left alone on watch and became the number one target for a massive wyvern doing its own patrol of Navarre’s borders.” You revealed while the anger and level of your voice began to rise. 

The expression on Garrick’s face is laughable to say the least. You watch as his regret turns to disbelief back to anger and finally lands back on regret. 

“That – That’s impossible.” A female voice stammers from behind you.

You huff a humorless laugh and turn towards the voice. You narrow your eyes in a glare at the girl staring back at you in disbelief. 

“Tell that to the scars on my back from the wyverns razored feathers.” You say as you stalk towards Violet with an ominous look in your eyes.

“Did you think that your little group was the only one who found themselves the victim of the cadre’s wrath? Did you think they were only after your precious Wingleader?” You spit the derision in your tone obvious as you gesture towards the brooding shadow wielder.

“You are more naïve than I thought if you believe that Colonel Aetos was only going to go after the marked ones alone.” You asserted as you walked into Violet’s space, looking down at the girl who was a few inches shorter than you.

You couldn’t help the mocking laugh that slipped past your lips when you noticed Xaden step up to her back as if you intended on hurting the girl in front of you.

“Don’t worry, Riorson. I have absolutely no intention of hurting your dear girl. I just want her to realize that you weren’t the only ones that the cadre had an issue with.” You sneered with boredom lacing your tone. 

“Now if your little family gathering will excuse me.” You gesture towards all the ones gathered there making a circling motion with your hand. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

You take three steps away before you feel a large, calloused hand wrap around your upper arm. You can’t help the way you flinch and your eyes flash at the touch.

“You can’t go out there by yourself. It’s dangerous and anything could happen to you.” Garrick explains sounding like he’s trying to reason with you. You forcefully pull your arm from his grip before turning around.

“No, see here’s where you’re wrong.” You purr with conviction while thrusting your finger into his chest forcefully. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. If I die,” you shrug your shoulders conveying your nonchalance “then so be it. At least I won’t be haunted by the nightmares any longer.”

“I will not let you put yourself in unnecessary danger.” Garrick barked blocking you from your path.

You take your time looking back directly into those hazel eyes. “You, my dear Garrick, lost your fucking privilege of caring about what I do about five months ago. Why don’t you go rut with one of the other mares in your stable and leave me the fuck alone.”

As you swiftly turn your body and continue your walk, there was no way to avoid hearing the shocked gasps at the words you said. Even though you knew you still loved Garrick, your heart was walled off to him after he became just another one of the men who continued to disappoint you. 

Right before you closed the door, you couldn’t help overhearing Garrick’s loud curse and a roaring bang that you surmised must have been a punch to the nearest punching bag or possibly a wall. A small, satisfied smirk crawled across your face when you realized that you could successfully still get under Garrick’s skin.

As soon as you were outside the heavy wooden doors of the fortress, you looked down and noticed the shifting of shadows.

“Leave me the fuck alone Riorson.” You spit while stepping over them. 

As you kept walking, you found yourself entering the small, reconstructed town of Aretia. You had heard stories of the burning and due to your interest in geography and history had more knowledge than your average cadet. However, you had no idea where you were going; you just knew that you needed to get away. 

You continued along the path, but still noticed the wisp of a shadow that followed you. Clearly Xaden wasn’t going to let you be alone, so you knew what you would have to do to throw off your wisping tail. Without much thought, you walked into the nearest shop that was bustling with townspeople trying to do their daily shopping. 

The minute you stepped in, you changed your entire appearance with the aid of Diomat’s power. You made your hair shorter and darker, your eyes a shade of sapphires you hadn’t seen anyone else have and reduced the look of your height. As soon as your looks were fully disguised, you walked back out of the shop. Taking a deep breath when you were finally away from the crowd, and you stepped into the shade of the nearest tree. Looking around for your unfortunate addition, you were happy to find that you must’ve slipped the shadows notice. 

When you confirmed there was no longer a wisp following you, you proceeded to continue your walk into town.

You couldn’t help the smile that immediately lit up your face as you watched children playing and mother’s going about their days. Something about seeing this domesticity made your resolve about fighting in the coming war harden. You knew there was no way that you would let these people suffer if you didn’t have to. Especially after experiencing what torture could be doled out from your own cadre, let alone an enemy. 

After walking a while, you found a small café and ordered a hot chocolate while sitting at one of the small tables. You sat there watching the calm lives of the civilians outside and continued to smile in your revelry of the small things. You were so engrossed in your own daydream that you startled when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Looking up in a swift turn, you are surprised to find a pair of liquid silver eyes staring back at you. You couldn’t help the way you appraised the stranger. You had never seen a man with such mesmerizing eyes. You continued to stare at the man in front of you, now noticing his raven hair and warm honey skin. 

“Can I help you?” You asked as you continued appraising the stranger in front of you.

“I’m sorry to bother you. But I had to ask as I was unsure if I was hallucinating. Did you change your appearance in that shop across the road?” He queried you while giving a slight tilt to his head indicating the shop you had left. 

You turned a little sheepish not really knowing how much you should reveal to the man in front of you.

“I don’t mean to catch you off guard.” He continues with a placating tone. “I’m a guard at Riorson House and by the clothing, I assumed you were a rider, and obviously noticed you before the hair and eye color change.”

You shake your head in acknowledgement before giving him a reply.

“Yes, I did. I was just trying to shake a little shadow and have some time to myself.”

He nods in acceptance obviously realizing what exactly you are insinuating. 

“Ah, yes. The real question is why Lieutenant Riorson is needing to follow you around.” He added pure curiosity in his face.

“If you’re asking if I’m a threat, I can assure you I’m not. After days of torture, I’m not sure how much of a menace I could be right about now.” You muse not afraid to share your misfortunes. 

“So, are you the Sorrengail or Lieutenant Tavis’ interest?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the remote possibility you could be Violet Sorrengail. 

“I’m not naïve enough to be Sorrengail. Besides, do you really think Riorson would let her out of his sight?” You criticized seeing that you can’t imagine how someone who was hailed at being so smart couldn’t imagine that the cadre of Navarre wouldn’t just take out anyone they saw as a threat in any way.

“So, you’re the one that Tavis thought was dead.” He surmises. 

Your eyes widen slightly and then narrow in suspicion. 

“And exactly how do you know that?” 

He gives a small smile before continuing. “I promise I mean you no harm and I don’t report back to Riorson or Tavis if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“If that’s the case. How exactly do you know all of this? I can’t imagine that the love lives of mere lieutenants are the subject of gossip.” You can’t help but question this man that has seemingly popped up out of nowhere.

He nods in understanding and gestures asking to sit at the table that I’ve taken residence at. You offer the seat, and he immediately sits down across from you. 

“You’re right in one instance. People aren’t normally interested in the love lives of the Lieutenants. However, I’m guessing you are aware of why people would be concerned with Riorson’s life.” You give a slight shift of your head confirming your understanding.

“Being that Riorson is the most important person to the Tyrrish people, it does not escape them that Tavis is his right hand. Therefore, both of their lives are heavily scrutinized from the Assembly, hence my knowledge on the subject.”

He goes on to continue to regale you with stories of both men, including Bodhi in the bunch. He takes time to explain how the Assembly learned of your existence since you were apparently a wrench in their plans. No one expected Garrick to be entangled with anything more than physical, let alone a first year.  

You also learn that this man’s name is Fabien, and he has been a guard at Riorson House since about two years after the Apostasy. His family owns the café that you are currently sitting in, but they had previously been servants at Riorson House as well. 

Oddly enough, you begin to let your guard down and find yourself being drawn into the grey eyes and warm personality of the man in front of you. It has been a while since you had met someone so open and willingly trusting. 

You could only think that a person like Fabien would be torn down immediately at Basgiath. The sad reality that the thought even crossed your mind crashing into you.

Soon enough, the light of the sun began waning into the horizon beyond the cliffs. You looked out at the setting sun and something in the shift of your facial features must’ve given away your decision to get back to Riorson House. 

“I know it’s getting late, and I imagine that you need to get back. Would you mind if I escort you back to the fortress?” Fabien asks as you both rise from the table. 

“I’d hate to be a bother, especially if you weren’t planning on going back today.” You say giving him an easy out from his ask. Although you were hoping he would still want to as you were slightly unsure of how to get back to the fortress.

“I insist. I’m more than confident you can handle yourself, but I will feel better if you’d allow me to escort you.” He declares.

‘I expect you to accept his offer, Bold One.’ Diomat slithers into your mind, reminding you that she’s watching out for you as well.

‘Yes, ma’am.’ You sass back, smiling at the exasperated huff you hear down your bond.

You nod your head in agreement and push in the chair that you had been relaxing in all day. As soon as you step into the night air you can’t help the shiver that crawls up your spine, the oversized training clothes not doing much to shield from the chill of the October air. Fabien must see your discomfort because not even ten steps later, he has thrown his cloak over you and closed the middle clasp. You give him a small thankful smile before you both continue your saunter back towards the doors of the fortress.

As you walk with him, you find yourself continuing to fall into conversation and chat about anything and everything. He takes great care to point things out around the town and let you know little stories from both his childhood and the ‘three musketeers’ that ran terror around the town growing up. In return, you tell him stories of your childhood growing up on the coastline and the scuffles you got yourself into with your siblings. 

As you both get to the gates of Riorson House, you can’t hold in the boisterous laugh that tears from you at a particularly funny story involving three small children and a two-tiered chocolate cake. As you round the corner, you see a tall, muscled figure pacing back and forth in front of the wooden doors. The minute the sound of your laugh touches his ears, you watch as he turns to look directly at you. 

Garrick’s eyes twinkle at the sound of your laugh before his gaze follows to the person that is standing next to you. His eyes immediately harden at the man standing next to you. You watch as he strides towards you with clear purpose.

Without giving him too much attention, you turn to Fabien and go to unclasp his cloak. However, before you can undo the clasp, Fabien touches your hand stopping you.

“Please keep it.” He says while looking out the corner of his eye, obviously watching the mountain of muscle that is marching straight towards you.

“You don’t have to do that.” You go to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I know I don’t have to, but I’d like if you would.” He states. “I’d also like to see you again sometime, whenever you aren’t too busy.”

You go to respond to him, but you are cut off by a gruff voice replying before you. “She’s too busy all the time.”

You turn a glare at the man that has decided he needed to put himself between the two of you. You step around Garrick and give him a glare that he doesn’t acknowledge.

“We’ll see each other again.” You say looking at the man who has treated you as more than a beautiful annoyance all afternoon. “I’ll make sure to stop by when I get some free time. In the meanwhile, thank you so much for the wonderful afternoon, stories, and the cloak.”

Fabien gives you a slight bow and nod with his smile before he turns on his heels and you watch as he walks outside the fortress walls. You spin on your heels and head towards the doors. As you go to open the door, a large hand covers yours and turns your body to face them.

You look up at Garrick with a face of exasperation your eyes turning tired. 

“How did you slip past Xaden’s shadows?” He questions. 

“That’s none of your business, Lieutenant.” You snap at him.

“Why won’t you just talk to me? I’ve been sitting next to that bed for three days waiting for you to wake up. Praying to any gods who would listen to make sure you’d be alright.” He explains while running a hand through his hair. 

“Will you ever give me another chance?” He says quietly. 

“What chance do I need to give?” You snarl back harshly. “You made your decision and told me that I would survive without you, didn’t you? So here I am, surviving without you.”

You watch as he rakes his hand through his hair again and blows out a growl of utter frustration.

“Yes, I said that, and I was a fucking idiot.” He starts as he moves closer to you. “You don’t know how much I regretted those words the moment you mounted Diomat and left me behind. Hell, the moment they left my mouth.”

His hand rises to your face and cups the side of your jaw, his thumb rubbing lazy circles over your cheek. 

“Then I flew back to Basgiath after Resson and the only bright light I could think of was your face.” A faraway look clouds his eyes as the memory fizzles inside his mind.

“When everyone was trying to play their part to make sure no one knew the truth, I kept searching formation for you. I looked up and down every row, every face looking for your eyes.” He recounts. “I was standing there trying to breathe and keep my composure so that we could sell our story. But the only thing I wanted to do was run down to your squad and ask every single person where you were.”

You take a deep breath as you stare into the worried hazel eyes that seem to dart all around your face as if cataloging every detail. 

“What do you want from me Garrick?” You ask tiredly not knowing whether you’re willing to give the man in front of you anything anymore.

“You.” He says breathlessly while bringing his forehead to rest on yours. “I fucking want you.”

You can feel how tense his body is from holding himself back from rushing to crush your body to his. Every muscle in his arms seem to sing with want to move and not let go, but you aren’t convinced.

You push yourself back from him and take his hand from your face. You bring it down and let it fall limp next to his body. 

“You of all people knew how many men in my life have let me down.” You reply, drawing your gaze down with the tears that are beginning to fill your eyes. You lift them back to Garrick and let him see your eyes shine with held back emotion.

“I was expecting better from you. I was expecting to be your priority, but I wasn’t. Not to mention you were keeping secrets. I feel like I don’t even know you.” You tell him as a single tear slips down the side of your face. 

Garrick’s face becomes a whirlpool of emotion as your words crash around him. He knew all the ways men in your life had failed you, yet he let himself do the same. 

“I was tortured because of your secrets that you didn’t see fit to tell me.” You can’t help the small shake of your head in disbelief and the haunted look of your eyes. “You knew that I would keep any secret and take it to my grave before putting anyone in danger, especially you. However, you chose to take my agency. You chose what you thought was best, with I’m sure some assistance from your friendly shadow. But, at the end of the day, you made your decisions.”

You begin to walk towards the heavy doors again before turning back towards the man that held your entire heart. 

“Now it’s time for me to make my own decisions. It will be on my terms if anything else happens between us.”

As you enter the fortress, the realization that you have nowhere to go dawns on you after remembering it was Garrick’s room you woke up in. As if in answer to your question, Xaden steps out of one of doorways in the hallway in front of you. With purpose written on your features, you walk up to your previous Wingleader. 

“I need a room to stay in.” You say unceremoniously to the man standing in front of you.

He looks at you with a hint of confusion on his face, before nodding his head and walking further into the fortress. You follow him and hope that you’ll be able to keep the talking to a minimum. 

“Are you sure that you don’t want to stay where you are?” He asks while continuing to walk forward, though he does turn to glance back at you. “The rooms in the family wing are significantly larger than those in the barracks.”

“I’m sure.” You can’t help the terse way you respond. 

Suddenly he turns and faces you. The quick way he moves and turns towards you has you retreating and running into the wall. You can feel the way that your face has twisted in fear at his movements and watch as the brooding man before you softens uncharacteristically. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He softly says while taking a few steps back. “We’ll get you assigned a room, but you should know that Garrick isn’t going to like being separated from you after everything.”

Your eyes roll at the statement and Xaden looks at you with a sad understanding. 

“Trust me when I say that both of us have said and done things in the past year that we deeply regret.” He starts in a rare moment of vulnerability from the hard man he usually is. “I’m not going to try and convince you to be with Garrick, but I do want you to know that it wasn’t Garrick’s call to leave you for War Games. It was mine.”

“I know that.” You argue. “It wasn’t the not being taken, it was the way he handled it and the words he said.”

You huff a cynical laugh before continuing. “I’m sure even Violet would admit that every girl wants the man that she’s with to show a little fight when it comes to her.”

It was then that Xaden blew out a huff of his own. “You may think that he didn’t fight for you. But you didn’t see him after he saw you in that chamber. When Aetos caught you after you fainted,” He stops shaking his head while recollecting the memory. “I’ve never seen Garrick move so fast to get to you and wrap you in his arms. When flying back here, he wouldn’t even let anyone else touch you.”

“Not to mention, you need to realize that sometimes a man makes a decision purely on the thought of keeping the woman he loves safe.” He catches me before I can open my mouth to argue back. “Whether or not she may like what that decision is. Sometimes he may prefer her to hate him if that means she’s safe.”

You look into the eyes of the man in front of you and his face is nothing but open and serious. You give him a curt nod noting your understanding before he turns back around, and you both continue down the hallway. 

Good to his word, Xaden finds you a room and even though you expected to be in the barracks, your room ends up being on the floor underneath the family rooms. You thank him for helping you and close the door to your room. 

You heave out a large breath before unceremoniously dropping yourself onto the bed. You turn and let your eyes drift to the ceiling of the room trying to quiet your churning mind.

______

Due to the amount of mending that you had to have after Varrish’s particularly brutal forms of torture, you were given some time off before having to join in with the rest of the cadets. However, after learning of your fate in Eltuval, you were summoned to the Assembly to explain exactly what you saw.

As you walked into the large room, you couldn’t help but notice the long table that ran the length of the room with several members lining each side. However, the thing that really took your attention was the large chair sitting slightly higher than all the rest and not just the chair, but the man lounging in it. 

There was Xaden sitting in the half-burned chair, legs stretched out in front of him with a bored look on his face. And if there was any question left in your mind about where Garrick fell, it was answered today. There he was stood behind the chair with his twin swords strapped to his back, arms folded across his chest looking as if he was assessing each and every person and the threat they may pose. 

A General guarding his King.

Garrick’s eyes met yours and you watched as his stance softened ever so slightly, the same way it always would at Basgiath. A sad smile sprawled across your lips as you shook your head slightly at the memory. 

“Cadet L/N.” You looked up as a man with auburn curls called your name and motioned you to take a seat at the middle of the table. “We appreciate you talking to us about your experience in Eltuval. Feel free to begin whenever you’d like.”

You make your way to the seat and tentatively sit down. You heart begins to flutter in your chest and nerves begin to make you stomach tighten. You place your hands in your lap to stop them from shaking and take a deep breath to try and steady yourself.

“I’m not sure how much information that I have to share that will enlighten you more than what you already know.” You start, suddenly feeling very self-conscious with all of these older riders.

“I was given orders to patrol a specific area within the borders of our position at Eltuval. Diomat and I proceeded to the area and began our patrol as normal. About a half an hour into the watch, there was a large roar from the northwestern part of our patrol.” You take another fortifying breath before the assembly seems to fade and your eyes become your memories.

“As I looked towards the sound, blue flames erupted from the mouth of the beast. I consulted with my dragon, as I wasn’t sure what exactly I was looking at. Diomat confirmed that it was a wyvern and confirmed that I could kill it with a blade that Lieutenant Tavis had previously gifted me.” As you finish your sentence, your eyes involuntarily flick to the man in question.

“Diomat then flew towards the wyvern as it headed straight for us in return. As we made our way there, I utilized my signet to be able to get down on the wyverns back. Once there, I slammed the blade in and was able to slash through half of its neck while it flailed.”

“Regrettably, I was thrown into its razored mane before I was flung into the air. Luckily, Diomat was able to catch me, and we returned to the outpost. From there, my wounds were tended to, and I told the cadre that I was hurt from falling from Diomat’s back.” As you finish, you look around the room at the eyes staring back at you. A mix of disbelief and astonishment fixed on all their faces, all but one. Garrick is looking as if he might be sick from the recounting of your tale. 

“Are you saying that you jumped on the back of a wyvern and killed it with your own hands?!?” A man with a hawkish nose barks out incredulously.

Your head immediately whips to him and your eyes narrow. “Why the hell would I lie?” You challenge the man.

“Why should we believe this tale? The whole thing sounds of fairytales.” A woman with an axe strapped to her back argues back.

“I thought venin and wyvern were fairytales, yet here we are in an Assembly room that is trying to figure out best way to beat them.” You fume as you gesture to the people sitting around the table while standing up from your seat. 

“And even though I shouldn’t have to fucking qualify my story for you to believe me, how about I fucking show you.” The anger at their accusations has turned your body into a raging wildfire. 

With that fire burning in your veins, you turn around and lift the back of your shirt. There’s no way to ignore the gasps of horror that leave the mouths of the people in the room. You know what they’re seeing, large scars that bisect through the part of the relic that Diomat placed on your back.

“So yes, I jumped on the back of a damn wyvern and killed it. And no, it wasn’t a fucking fairytale.” After you finish speaking you bust out of the room, the fire in your veins still burning brightly.

You know from experience there are only two ways to burn the fire licking at you. You decide that its been too long since you’ve seen Diomat and find yourself immediately making a beeline for the large front doors. Just before you are about to grab one of the handles and swing the door open, a large hand wraps around your arm.

You are immediately tugged around and enveloped in large arms. Your anger is still burning hot on the surface so thankfully the fear of being restrained hasn’t bubbled up. 

“Gods.” Garrick breathes as he holds you tightly. “It’s so much worse than I thought it was.”

“What did you think I was making it up too?” You huff out cynically. He moves one of the hands from the hug and pulls back slightly to grab your chin in his hand. 

“Of course, I didn’t. I was just hoping it wasn’t as bad as I thought. But apparently, it was worse.” He answers his eyes serious with a hint of sadness. The next thing you know he’s huffing out a small laugh. “I don’t know whether I want to be angry with you for risking your life so recklessly or just be in wonder at how astonishing you are.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “You can be both, but I need to get out of here.” With that you turn from the man and make your way outside of the fortress.

You’re thankful that Diomat shares your mind, because without you even having to ask, she touches down in the large courtyard upsetting the guards and garden below. Without caring, you mount your dragon and immediately take to the skies. 

After a few hours, your lack of flight leathers begins to wear on you as you become colder and colder.

‘Diomat, how close to town can you get me?’ You ask your dragon hoping that you can finish of this tiring day with a warm cup of hot chocolate. 

‘I can take you to the edge of the woods. Due to the civilians, they ask the dragons not to get too close and scare them. If you walk the path, then you should be at the town in about ten minutes from what Chradh says.’ She confirms down your bond.

You look down giving the back of your dragon’s neck a raised eyebrow as you hear her mention Chradh.

‘Why are you speaking with Chradh all of a sudden?’ Your eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

You hear a huff of amusement in your mind before she replies. ‘I suppose because his rider keeps pestering him about my whereabouts, and therefore yours as well.’

You can’t help the snarking laugh that you let out while Diomat begins to descend into the woods. ‘Well how about you just let him know you’re going back to the valley and leave me out of this one.’

As you begin walking away, Diomat huffs a blast of steam at you before nudging you with her maw. You glance back at her and give a wide smile.

As you begin your walk into town, the anger seems to bleed out of you again as you enjoy the day-to-day activities of the people around you. Soon enough, you find yourself outside of the café again and a smile breaks across your face as you see Fabien wave you in from the window. 

“Come in.” He says as he steps out from behind the counter. “I didn’t expect to see you in here so soon.”

“I didn’t anticipate a visit today, but I’m in need of a warm beverage.” You admit. “Preferably, one of those delicious hot chocolates.” You say sheepishly.

A genuine smile breaks across Fabien’s face.  “Of course, that’s no problem at all.”

You watch as Fabien disappears behind the counter to make your hot chocolate. Settling into the chair, you let your head fall to stretch your neck muscles from the flight and take a deep breath. Suddenly you feel someone tapping on your shoulder and you go to move your head expecting to see Fabien looking back at you.

Looking up, you are met with a pair of light green eyes. The snarl that formed on your lips was purely instinctive. Why couldn’t this little group just leave you alone when you wanted to be alone?

“Why can’t you all just go the fuck away?” You sighed exaggeratedly.

“Because you are going to stay seated and listen whether you like it or not.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the commanding tone that Imogen takes. 

“Well, I don’t like it. So how about I don’t listen.” You were in no mood to listen to anything the girl in front of you had to say.

“Look, I’m not here for you. I’m here because I love Garrick.” You can’t help the way your eyes widen and look back at Imogen when she finishes her statement.

“Oh-kay.” You say unsure on how to proceed. “We aren’t together, so I’m unsure as to why you need to talk to me about him. If you want to tell him you love him, shouldn’t you be saying that to him.”

Imogen rolls her eyes at you while beginning to sit in the seat across from yours. 

“The bastard is more than aware of my feelings.” She replies tersely. “But that doesn’t matter when he only has eyes for you.”

“I know that Xaden has already talked to you.” She goes on to explain and you quirk your eyebrow at the girl in front of you. “Don’t look so surprised, we all talk. Besides, its time to get off your high dragon and forgive the man.”

“Excuse me.” You say incredulously. You honestly can’t believe Imogen would have the gall to say that considering she wants to be with Garrick.

“Look, I get it. He was an asshole. Welcome to Garrick and his best friend Xaden for that matter. If you wanted the sweet one, you should’ve gone for Bodhi.” She continues. “I know Xaden told you that Garrick was doing what he thought was best, but it wasn’t only that.”

“He was doing what he wished he could’ve done for his own family. His mother. He’s always pushed women away because of losing his mom, but you somehow broke through that barrier. You’re the only girl I’ve ever seen him care about as more than just a friend or good fuck.”

“I’m not saying you should give him a free pass.” Imogen admits. “But I am telling you to let him in. Let him grovel and work for you. He needs that, needs you, just like Riorson needs Violet.”

You let your gaze bore into Imogen’s and see the hard set of her face and eyes, even though she can’t hide the flash of pain. In that moment, you can’t help but hate the whole situation that seems to have formed between the three of you.

“Imogen, I’ll give what you’ve said some thought.” You say seriously. “But I want you to know I am sorry. I never meant to show up and take anything from you, regardless of if you believe me or not.”

Pale green eyes look straight at you and a sad smile crosses her face fast before it falls, and she moves to get up. 

“Don’t throw away a chance at happiness over some heated words.” She urges before sharply turning and walking out of the doors. 

As she walks off, Fabien shows up with your hot chocolate and a small smile. You thank him and take a sip relishing the way the warmth of the drink seems to flow through your body. 

As you finish your drink and bid Fabien good night, you begin your walk back to the fortress and let Imogen’s words ruminate. Between her and Xaden, you could feel the anger in your heart for Garrick lessening day by day. 

As soon as you arrive back at the fortress, you look up to see the man with the auburn curls from the assembly looking back at you.

“Ah, just who I wanted to see.” He says and you look around checking to see if anyone else is there. 

“Yes, Cadet L/N. I’m speaking to you. I just have a few more questions to ask.” He explains as he beckons you back into the same room you were in earlier. 

You look around and notice that now you are the only two in the room that was previously filled. He turns back around to look at you and motions to a chair.

You sit as he begins to speak. “I’m Lieutenant Colonel Aisereigh. I know we didn’t get to introductions earlier.”

“No, he’s my brother, Brennan Sorrengail.” A female voice breaks in from the doorway. You watch as the man in front of you rolls his eyes as Violet moves into the room as well. 

“Either way, I wanted to ask you about your signet.” Brennan continues. “You said that you used it to drop onto the wyvern but didn’t explain what exactly it was.”

You look around at both people in the room and can’t help the uncertainty you feel at revealing your secret, even Carr wasn’t privy to all that your signet could do.

“I can change my appearance.” You begin to explain. Both of the faces in front of you widen in shock as you begin to detail the fact that you can change your entire body and clothing to replicate anyone. 

“With encouragement from Diomat, I – uh – I shifted to look like a venin I remembered from a book that was read to me growing up.” You say tentatively.

“Tha -That’s incredible.” Brennan speaks up after the shock begins to wear off. “And the wyvern didn’t think anything of you being on top of it while shifted to look like a venin?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think so, but I wasn’t there long before I sliced the blade into it.”

As you look back at the man in front of you, you can’t help as you watch the gears in his head turn through his eyes. 

“Could you show us?” He asks curiously.

“I can.” You reply in turn. “But – “

“But, what?”

“You have to remember that it’s me and not an acutal venin.” You croak worried that you’re about to be seen as a threat.

“Understood.” He confirms as Violet goes to stand next to him. 

After taking a long deep breath, you reach for Diomat’s power and let it flow through your body. You let your mind drift to the illustration in the book and feel as your fingers tingle. When you look back up, you see two sets of eyes as wide as saucers and know what it must look like to the people standing in front of you. 

Before anyone has time to speak, the door to the Assembly room opens and you can sense two people have entered. 

“Violence, I –“ The voice stops and suddenly you feel yourself being hoisted up by your throat, your hands reflexively going up to try and grab at the obstruction. However, when you try, there’s nothing to grab onto and you’re left kicking and flailing your arms. As the fear of being held begins to grip you, the hold on your power leaves and you’ve changed back into yourself.

“Xaden! Stop!” You hear Violet shout a second before you are dropped to the floor. You try to take a breath, but the fear has you in a cloud you can’t escape. You hear footsteps rushing towards you as you continue to take gasping breaths, your hands wrapping gently around your neck. 

“Y/N. Love, are you alright?” You shrink back as inescapable fear comes barreling in and your eyes blow wide. You look back into hazel eyes, seeing pure concern laced there. 

After what feels like hours, your heartrate finally slows again, and you can take full breaths. Looking up, the room around you feels frozen in time. Looks of horror and sorrow gracing each person’s face. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Xaden breathes quietly as if afraid to speak. You sit there with your hand around your neck and stare straight back at the man not really registering his words. 

“I – I’m going to go upstairs.” You croak through your abused vocal cords. You try to slowly get up on your feet and as soon as you’re standing, you feel your legs giving out. Before you can fall to the ground, you can feel a strong arm grip you around your waist. 

Looking to your side, you see Garrick looking back at you cataloging each blossoming bruise on your neck. His brows furrow as his concern grows. You can feel the bruising already and know that they must be turning a mottled shade of purple. 

Before you can think much more, you find yourself being scooped up into Garrick’s arms as his face turns hard and he begins walking up the stairs. Even though you are tense, you try to let yourself settle into his arms. You close your eyes for a second and before you know it, you can feel Garrick dropping to a bed with you still cradled close. 

“Why does it always seem that my family and I are always hurting you?” He rumbles lowly while dropping his head.

“It wasn’t Xaden’s fault.” You rasp, your voice feeling like its grating against sandpaper.

Garrick looks back at you and brings his hand to your chin, tilting your neck up. Soon the blue green of his hazel eyes disappears, and they become a molten shade of gold, hard and angry. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” He seethes as you watch him catalog the bruises along your neck. A sad smile blooms on your face and you bring your hand to his jaw, moving his face to look directly at you. You shake your head no before swallowing hard to speak.

“It wasn’t his fault. I knew it would be a risk to show them. I just didn’t think anyone would walk into the room before I could change back.” You finish before you end up coughing trying to coat the damage to your vocal cords.

As you finish, you feel the way Garrick’s face nuzzles into the hand that is still placed along his jaw. You look up to see his eyes closed as if he is trying to drink up every moment. A lost man wandering the desert for a drink of water.

Something about the gesture causes a crack in the wall that you’d built around your heart for the man that still has you cradled close. You realize that this is the first time you’ve seen the worry, tension, and stress melt from his face since War Games. 

A sudden knock at the door brings you both out of the moment. Garrick looks down at you and as if he can’t resist, brings his lips to the side of your head and gives you a quick kiss. He then sets you down gently on the bed and goes to open the door. 

“I thought Y/N could use some mending.” You hear a male voice call from the other side of the door. You watch as Garrick nods his head slightly before opening the door and letting Brennan in. Brennan shuffles in and with sad eyes looks at the bruises across your neck.

“Would it be okay with you if I mend you?” Brennan asks tentatively. You give a curt nod before he is standing before you and you tilt you head back for him to get a better view of your neck. You shut your eyes tight as the tears silently flow down the side of your head, the burning sensation of mending filling your head. 

Almost as soon as it begins, the pain seems to lessen slowly, little by little. You finally blink open your eyes and slowly lift your head back. 

“Better?” Brennan questions as he rises back up to his full height. 

“Much. Thank you.” You confirm.

“I know after what just happened, you may want to say no.” Brennan starts. “But I think it would be beneficial for everyone to get the visual of what they may be dealing with on the battlefield.”

You know where he’s going with his comment and your immediate response is to shake your head. However, wading through the panic, the logic starts to win out and you take a deep breath. 

“Would you mind doing the same thing when most of the Lieutenants and all the cadets are present? The Assembly all agrees that it would be best for everyone to have a real feel of the enemy.” Brennan finishes in a tactician’s voice.

You go to open your mouth, but you’re immediately cut off. 

“NO. You can fuck right off if you think she’s going to do that again.” Garrick growls while stepping into Brennan’s space. “Did you not just see what fucking happened? And then you want to put her in a room with untrained cadets who don’t even know how to use their signets and hope someone doesn’t have a bad reaction.”

Undeterred by Garrick’s reaction, Brennan calmly responds to the threat in front of him. “I understand your reservations Garrick and hers as well, which is why Bodhi and Mira will be on hand to make sure that no one responds the same way.”

You stand from the bed you were seated on and walk up to the two men that are still looking at each other trying to calculate who is going to make the next move. Instinctually, you raise your hand and place a comforting hand on Garrick’s forearm. You can’t help but feel the tense set of his muscles and crack a soft smile to reassure the hulking man.

“Gare.” You say and his eyes immediately dart to you as you use the nickname for the first time in months. “Brennan is right. Everyone needs to see what they’re going to be facing. It’s better than sending everyone out without having any idea.”

Garrick’s eyes search yours looking for any hesitation, seeming to hope that you aren’t really considering this. Immediately his shoulders sag when he realizes that you’re serious. 

“I’ll just need some forewarning to get myself in the right headspace, so maybe not the next couple of days.” You confirm with Brennan as he shakes his head in agreement.

“You’ll wait until I’m back here.” Garrick asserts as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Brennan. “You’ll do it after I’m back from patrol. She isn’t going to do it without me being present.”

You roll your eyes at his protective demands but you’re grateful that he’ll be there, if only for a sense of safety. 

“That can work. We will do it during a battle brief class and will catch the lieutenants while they are switching patrols.” Brennan affirms while he begins to walk towards the door.

You both watch as Brennan leaves and closes the door behind him. Garrick immediately moves forward to you lifting your chin to check for any lingering bruising. 

“I’m fine.” You say quietly to try and quell the anxiety burning in his eyes.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He quips back.

“You do realize that we’re both about to be thrown into a war that most likely will take both of our lives, right?” You sass back, getting irritated with his hovering. 

“Not if I can fucking help it.” He grumbles at you. You snort and roll your eyes at the over-confident man that he’s turned into again.

“Promise me you won’t do that again, unless absolutely necessary.” The earnestness in his eyes a plea for you to listen. “I don’t want you to be a victim just because someone can’t decipher you from friend or foe.”

You sigh and let your gaze soften. “You don’t think I already know that shifting myself to look like a venin is dangerous? You can ask Brennan or Violet, but I was hesitant with them both before I did it. And what followed just proved why my theory was correct.”

“You of all people should know that I’m smarter than that. I wouldn’t shift into that form unless absolutely necessary. Brennan just asked to see why the wyvern didn’t react to my landing on its back, so I showed them.”

Realization dawning on him seems to do nothing to quell the fire in his eyes. Fire to protect and shield evident on every line of his face. You realize that no words seem to be cracking through the thick skull of the man in front of you, so you utilize your best weapon, your touch.

You bring your hands to his face, cupping each side and rubbing soothing circles on his stubbled cheeks. He takes a deep sighing breath and his gaze bores deep into you. 

“I don’t think you understand how terrified I am of the actual reality of your death.” He divulges as both of his arms snake around your waist tugging you to him. “Ever since I laid eyes on you again, I wake up every day busting through my door to search for just a glimpse of your form.”

“Having to face a reality again where you aren’t there is the absolute worst thing I can honestly imagine.” He brings his forehead to yours leaning in and breathing a deep, calming breath. 

A sad smile begins to crawl across his face. “And being so close to you, but far away at the same time is eating at me more than you know.”

You give him a sad smile back in return. “I know.” You whisper, your walls cracking even more with the tenderness and vulnerability seeping from Garrick’s every fiber.

“I need you to know that I’m working on it.” You tell him while bringing your hands down to grab his own, rubbing gentle circles on his knuckles. “We aren’t there yet, but I can promise you the more you let me in, the more you show up for us, then eventually maybe we can get back to before.”

Garrick’s eyes search yours, probing for an alternate meaning. You just look back at him with the honesty you feel at his words. You’re unsure of what you’re looking for to be able to let him completely in again, but you know that you just aren’t in the right space at this moment.

__________

Taglist: @smashee0789 @batboygirlie @gayandfairycore

[kickthecan-revolution]

I had a major issue this morning with my long-term disability paycheck. It was less than a third of what I was expecting based on my conversations with the company and I was cutting it razor thin with what I was expecting.

In the past I would have absolutely lost my shit. I probably would have started yelling at people. I went outside, I took a deep breath and had a little talk with myself. “You are not poor and all alone, no one is trying to hurt you. No one is pulling the rug from underneath you. Those days are over. You don’t have to pawn anything, you don’t have to sell anything. That’s not your life anymore. You can figure this out, you just need to get some facts.”

I didn’t really believe any of that in my heart but fake it til you make it. I drank a big glass of water and then called the two companies involved. I spoke with the customer service reps respectfully. Asked a lot of questions, listened as carefully as I could. We finally got to an understanding - it’s a temporary fix until February but I’ll figure it out then.

I have some deep, irrational terror about being able to survive financially. I know it’s from watching my parents agonize and curl up into the fetal position for years over it, I never knew if we were ok or not. We were loved with money, it was the elixir of our parental relationships, almost the only thing we ever talked about. I never talk about it, my friends and family would consider it insane given I’m planning on retiring next year and I get it. (that is all locked up until next year). For them, it’s like Imelda Marcos worried about where her next pair of shoes is coming from (though I’m not quite that evil of a character). l feel uncomfortable writing about it here, I know people are struggling in real, not imagined ways but I use this as my journal so I’m going to keep doing that, as weird as it feels.

What I’m proud of is I didn’t lose my shit. I listened. I didn’t spiral, then rage. I was able to calm my mind and think a few things through, I didn’t immediately catastrophize. I worked *with* the people on the phone, they weren’t the enemy. They ended up being trustworthy. They helped.

This is big growth for me. To not expect others to hold my irrational fears at any level of engagement. The bigger healing is not feeling that trigger at all but I’ll get there. I will.

For now, I love you. I’m proud of you for not giving into your fear. You can take care of you, you have for such a long time.

[malachitezmeyka]

I actually survived 100 days in my Minecraft world and didn't die once lmao

[ibringyouasong89]

I’m 33 going on 34 in less than a month. I work two part time jobs (because after graduating college with a BA in English Lit, could not get a full time in publishing - or ANY full-time job for that matter with no connections to promote an opportunity based on nepotism) and one of them is in retail...which is a terrible industry that is utterly inhumane that I have worked in for almost 11 years. I currently go to school for my Masters in Education...which I still have doubts about doing, long term wise, because of the state education is in both the state I wish to teach in and also for the country (in case you missed it - America) itself. Being in NYC, there is no shortage of teachers, and I wonder, ever day, how long it’ll take me to get a teaching job for the public schools...because this is, literally, the only state where the union and the pay are worthy for teachers to have and be a part of...everywhere else, including CA and NJ are shit, in terms of pay and union protection and benefits. 

I live with my mother, in my great-grandparent’s house that will turn a century old in two months...I literally live in the house that was built upon the foundation that was “The American Dream” and all I can hear, repeating in my ears, is George’s Carlin’s takeaway line of “You have to be asleep to see it.” I’m in my thirties, where most people I know are either married or getting engaged; pregnant for the first time, the second time, etc...or have a growing kid/children already...and I have no SO, no children, no stable-enough financial situation to have a house of my own someday, or even a car. My parents did not have city-based jobs, which guarantees a union where one can inherit a pension and still maintain benefits upon retirement. My father used his 401K, after getting fired due to the economic downturn post 9/11, to go and obtain a real estate license. Then the housing market bubble burst in 2008 and, well...we weren’t destitute (poverty has definitely taken on a different flavor since the 1930′s for most Americans), but let’s just say my grandparents were helping my mother to pay for most of the bills (including my tuition to keep going to school for all four of my academic years in high school).  I have had depression, on and off, for over 15 years and find it hard to take good care of myself on most days when I’m not feeling either lazy or too despondent to get up out of bed (FYI, I don’t know if it’s clinical or not...). I haven’t been on a vacation since 2014. I had dreams of traveling of the world, ever since I was small enough to understand what wonders existed in the world, and don’t think I’ll ever be able to travel to any of those places until I am, most likely, too old to do so. I don’t have a social life. I don’t really have any friends and can’t afford to go see the ones I barely maintain a connection with from childhood...as I was forced to move away from my hometown when my parents finally divorced after almost 30 years of a toxic relationship that I bore witness to...and I know loneliness is a choice, but so is having self-respect and not allowing yourself to fall into terrible relationships just so you can say you have someone. In all likelihood, I will never get married. I will never have children...and when I think on never having children, part of me realizes that I will grow old and not have anyone to take care of me as most of my family had no children of their own (and got old and died) or have no real relationship with me.  I may wind up a smelly corpse in a rundown apartment at some point or thrown into an abusive nursing home due to the state checking up on me. I also feel, in large part, a great sense of relief...because I will never have to bring into this world a child who will be financially burdened the way I am. I will never have a child who feels like a failure, like they were left behind by the society that promised them they could, and would, succeed...that, for the most part, denies that climate change is real. That if I married a man that was not of my own ethnocultural background, they would be discriminated against and made targets of by law enforcement or of the government. That if I had a daughter, and she traveled to one of the states where abortion is illegal, and was tragically raped and made pregnant, she would have to bear that pregnancy to fruition, despite the trauma and despair. That my son, if he was a member of the LGBTQ+ community, and was lovingly accepted at home, would not find that same reception in the rest of the nation he was born into and would also become a target...Or, if one of my children wished to go to Florida, and wanted to study African American history at their chosen university, they could not do so because of the new law that Ron DeSantis has just written and signed into effect. That there is an international war going on and that if my children were old enough, could be drafted into (and don’t tell me it can’t happen because IT HAS happened before. My father was drafted for ‘Nam. And though he went willingly, he never celebrated the fact that he was a vet...none of my family members that served EVER talked about their service and what they had seen, done, or heard during that time in their lives) and made to fight and kill innocent people for the sake of “democracy” (that is highly corrupt) and, if they made it out alive, would be scorned and forsaken by the very same government that asked them to fight for their nation with pride (ask Jon Stewart about it sometime).  That my children will never become subject to addiction of smart technology, social media, or any of the ways instant gratification and technology has shaped the lives of children that I see today in that they evolve to become computer compliant, but deficient in human social skills (and it started well before Covid, but the quarantine definitely made it worse).  That my children will never become hopelessly engaged with fentanyl or any of the opioids that so many children become hooked on, from young ages (even from the womb!) and wind up either tragically a part of a statistic for death or incarceration. That my children will never be forced into homelessness because of a devastating storm that washed away their homes and their livelihoods. That my would’ve-been-future daughter will never face the choice of having to wait her child dying within her womb and her body turning sceptic because her doctors could not give her an abortion (yes, this really happened in 2023).  That my son, if he wished to transition and become a woman, would not scorned by society, and would not be found wanting of healthcare to care for himself and his changing body.  That my children would not be forced to be placed under labels - no matter how conservative or progressive the ideology may be - that only furthers the lines of discrimination and divide within this country (even if the intention is the exact opposite - see Bill Maher about it sometime).  I will never have children who feel stifled by living with me because they can’t afford to live on their own...or feel that they are forgotten, let down, or left behind by the society that promised them they could succeed (no matter their race or gender).  I will never have children who ponder over the pointlessness of their existence because they can never fully enjoy life the way they were told to do so (and are constantly told to do so by people who don’t realize the limitations they are bound by, especially by a society that is run by the chrono-capitalist society they both revere and hate simultaneously). I am grateful I will never have children (if that is indeed my future) so that they never have to wind up as shooting victims, with pictures on full display on every news media outlet in the country. It’s not just the young...it’s also us adults (Millennials) who are expected to step up and take charge of society when the people who are in charge of it now step down.

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[chatsukimi]

ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

featuring: protective!heian!sukuna, kindhearted!servant!reader. slight angst/hurt -> comfort. synopsis: you're sick. to your surprise, you're rescued by the man second closest to death himself. masterlist

you should've known he wouldn't come. sukuna has never set foot in the servant's headquarters in his life, let alone to chase after a sick servant. you lower your head, trying to ease the headache that has plagued you through the day.

sukuna loves his bloodshed and his gore. him and death would be good friends, you think to yourself. he wouldn't care if your body was burnt or buried, you think to yourself; wouldn't care if you died at all.

the room the others put you in is empty. ash spreads neatly over the cold floor. the scent of kibble haunts the atmosphere. it's where they put the dogs before sukuna killed them.

ever since you took care of the king of curses while he was sick, the other servants had been careful in keeping a distance from you. not in ill of heart; they're simply terrified at what you must've done to survive in your week long stay with the monster. honestly, you don't blame them.

but now when you're laying on the freezing ground, struggling to breathe, it's hard not to.

'this is where you live?'

your eyes look up. shock. then, with all the strength you can muster, you heave yourself one step away from the man at the doorway, which only serves to piss him off more.

sukuna ryomen, in all his glory, looks down at you. bending down to pick you up like a limp doll to be seated against the wall, he seems to revel in his regained strength. you can't help but feel happy for him, to have survived this fatal disease. not many men can attest to that...

then again, he is no ordinary man.

'i asked you a question.'

you nod, a small thing, barely a movement. he seems to clench his teeth.

he takes off his long white coat, flaunting a layer of dried blood, and drapes it over your shoulders.

yet it doesn't end there. he retrieves from his pocket a bottle of what looks to be a golden syrup.

you know exactly what it is.

he takes your hand and wraps it around the flask, making you hold it, sparing, not one, but two of his eyes, to stare at you, making sure you do as he commands.

'swallow.'

you shake your head. you know he's asking you to do. this is a medication is so rare for your disease that no sorcerer has found in over a hundred years. he's brought this thing of myth right to your very lips. now he's asking you to drink it, and thus take away any chance of it saving anyone else's life.

you scowl, but the tickling sensation in your throat grows stronger, eventually erupting out of your mouth in a harsh cough. you look away from sukuna.

'leave,' you whisper, weakly. 'don't wanna infect you.'

'i survived the illness already. i've developed an immunity.'

you shake your head again. you couldn't threaten your king's health with your own weakness. you just couldn't.

'i can't take this.'

he growls. without any notice, he swallows your lips in a kiss. in the momentary haze, you could hardly resist, fisting the front of his kimono to ground yourself. then, you feel something sweet, honey-ish, hit your tongue.

with his hand locked on your chin, it forces you to swallow.

you pull back, pushing him away. he groans.

he wipes his mouth, still with two eyes staring.

no... no, why did he do that?

'y-you- how? no... why did you waste it on me?' you whisper, desperately searching his face for an answer. 'i'm just a servant. you could've given it to a princess, or a scholar, or priest-'

he grabs you by the arm and forces you into his arms. its heat astounds you, and you find yourself crawling closer. a vague thumping sound seems to press against your ear-

oh. you calm your breathing.

it's his heartbeat.

alive.

'sleep in my room tonight,' he demands.

what did he say? you strain your mind, trying to replay what he said earlier. no... maybe you heard correctly.

'but i'm no concubine,' you respond, instantly.

his arm supports your waist, helping you up effortlessly to your feet. he then directs two of his eyes to the doorway, his cadence low and domineering.

'it doesn't matter.'

he leads you placidly through the servant's quarters. you notice all conversation cease at your entry, bodies dropping into a low bow. a small voice in you whispers that it's where you should be too. you tug at sukuna's arm.

'i'm only a servant, sukuna.'

you know what it looks like, a servant clutching onto a man, more god than human. a man who has slaughtered villages, blood staining the base of his kimono crimson, and turned half a province on its head, just to save you.

'whatever you are in my eyes is what you are to the world,' he states, his expression unchanging. 'if i deem you a queen, that is who you are.'

exiting the servant compound, you know you can't say no- not like you wanted to. the wide expanse of his chest is comforting.

yet however sweet this feeling remains, you can't help but gulp. perhaps this is the closest a human has ever come to courting death.

[malfoys-demigod]

hii! it’s iluvloganhowlett i’m just on my other acc! could you do a logan fluff where logan has a soft spot for u and lit only u? like for a prompt, scott asks a question and logan answers with some “it’s none of your business” or is j flat out mean where as when you ask the same question minutes later he’s nicer and thorough with his answer.

and can u please make it logan x mutant!reader🥰🥰

Logan Howlett, underrated softie

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

A/N: Hi @iluvloganhowlett!! I really appreciate your request and here it is! Enjoy, dear!!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Winters in upstate New York were exceptionally known for their extreme coldness.

Which of course was no shock that a particular mansion at Westchester County was at -3 degrees celcius, almost reaching at 4 in your keen opinion.

Just being inside made you want to wear a thick full body coat today, wrapped with your favorite scarf and gloves. But you felt silly about that idea, seeing how everyone else was just casually surviving the day with good long sleeved tops. How lucky of them.

Though it was only 8pm, you had the senseless idea of wrapping yourself in your blanket, trying to fall asleep in your bedroom, desparately hoping to sleep through the coldest day of the week.

After a few tosses and turns, feeling the icy breeze sneak into your body, you just knew there was no hope in dozing off. Not with this kind of weather!

You groaned in defeat, sitting up to curse to yourself why you had to feel so, so, so frigid of all days today.

Maybe some instant hot chocolate by the kitchen would help you soothe yourself into sleeping soon.

So you got up, wore an oversized sweater over your thick long sleeved top, placed on your fuzzy slippers, and made your way out of your room to the kitchen.

There were still students around the mansion, either reading books with each other, watching the television by the living room, or playing some board games while having hot beverages and snacks. Hmmm, the smell of hot chocolate from some of them just made you realize that hot chocolate is always a good idea.

Meanwhile over at the kitchen, just a few minutes before you had arrived, Storm was in one of the seats in front of the counter, having her decaffinated coffee, mixing some sugar and some milk with it. Yup, she was one of those who enjoyed the taste of cofffe, even at night, so she has it decaffinated so it won't affect her sleep later.

Scott grabbed a bowl and a box of Lucky Charms cereal from the cupboards and made his way to the fridge, which was being leaned on by Logan, who was having a round of beer.

Scott stood in front of Logan with a serious look on his face, expecting Logan to move. But Logan, who wanted to mess with the man, just stared back at him, flashing a mischievous look. "You should take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Move, asshole," Scott sneered, "I need milk."

Logan continued drinking from his beer, still eyeing scott with the same mischievous look on his face, ignoring his command.

"Oh, Scott, I still have some!" Storm interrupted, saving Scott from possibly wanting to strike Logan, based on his tight grip on his bowl, and now slightly wrinked cereal box.

"Dick," Scott muttered under his breath, moving through Logan, who felt like he won another round of Logan v Scott. That small win was now done being celebrated when you finally arrived into the kitchen.

"Hey guys," you greeted your colleagues, getting some 'heys' from Storm and a slightly disgruntled Scott.

"Hey, doll," Logan recited gently, earning a dear smile from you. He watched you look around the cupboards, noticing your mystified expression as you wandered around each cupboard and cabinets.

You then moved to the fridge, "Sorry, could I just check something inside?" you asked Logan softly with your fingers skimming over each other.

Scott looked up from his meal, watching Logan expose a smile on his mouth, gently moving aside as you opened the fridge, watching you hmph in disappointment.

Scott made his own quiet hmph to himself, seeing Logan's patience with you, to which Storm smiled coyly seeing sparks fly around the tough Wolverine.

"Didn't find what you were looking for, darl?"

"Yeah, I think the kids got the last instant hot chocolate powders for themselves," you frowned lightly in disappointment. "It's okay though," admitting in defeat. You were starting to make your way out, looking at the doorframe, "I think I'll just-"

"Hold on there, bub," Logan's instruction brought you to a halt. You turned around to see a now quiet Logan, whose eyes were looking into, what he thought, were puppy eyes. "Instant powders are for kids," he continued, his eyes quickly scanning around the room as if he was about to make use of the information around him.

"How about I make you some real hot chocolate, huh?"

While Scott and Storm turned to each other, exchanging unsure looks, you let out a small laugh in disbelief, which determined Logan to actually pull it off.

"You?"

You didn't want to sound mean about it, I mean, anyone can make hot chocolate. It wasn't rocket science, or some gourmet dish, but never in your wildest dreams did you think that Logan Howlett, the man who only went to the kitchen to bring out his secret stash of beer, would make you hot chocolate?

But the way you asked didn't matter to Logan, as he got whole milk, chocolate, whipped cream, and heavy cream from the fridge, walked to another counter for powdered sugar, and expresso powder, which he directly got a teaspoon of from Storm's side to which she didn't say anything about, since she herself, was inclined to watch Logan act as if he was someone else she didn't know.

Logan was now whisking together his ingredients in a saucepan that you helped get.

"How long should these be over the heat?" you tip-toed, wanting to see over Logan's shoulder's as he was perfectly centered in front of the saucepan.

"Till you see small bubbles appear around the edges," he replied, looking over at you tip-toe, which he wanted to melt at just seeing.

He then stirred in chopped chocolate, waiting for it to melt, and carefully placing the sauce to low heat, stating to you that 'it's needed for the chocolate to melt completely.'

His little moment of domestic fluff with you and him in the kitchen was put to a pause when a voice from somewhere behind him got his unfortunate attention.

"Since when did you have time to learn all this?," Scott teased, receiving a nudge from the elbow from Storm who shook her head.

"Shut the hell up, prick," Logan said, not even facing a smirking Scott.

Logan then served the drinks in two mugs for him and for you, of course topping them with lots of whipped cream. More than excited to try Logan's hot chocolate, you immediately took a careful sip, tasting the intense, rich, and absolute heaven which had to be the most decadent hot chocolate ever.

"Oh my god," you said, closing your eyes with satisfaction, "It feels like I'm in one of those Parisian cafes, drinking the best hot chocolate there."

It was as if every sip made you forget about how cold and freezing you were just earlier, and seeing you look so content with the drink made Logan want to beam, but of course realized Scott and Storm were, annoyingly still around.

"Glad you like it, Y/N," he thanked, seeing you turn to face him with a curious look on your face.

"I do want to ask..." you hung back the question, "When did you have time to learn how to perfect this? I know you didn't just learn this overnight."

It was a genuine question because despite living since the 1800s or so, it was not exactly like Logan had free time to cook around or whip up hot chocolate, right? This man went through a lot in his life, and would he really just use his spare time investing in something like.. hot chocolate?

Logan looked down, with a humble and small smile on his face.

"My mother..," he first started, "When I was young and while my dad was out, she would make hot chocolate on cold days, or even any day for that matter."

There was so much value you had, appreciating the little yet deeply personal story behind your now, favorite drink. You knew Logan was never an open book with anyone. It was more of a shut and locked up book with the key below the bottom of the ocean for no one to pick up.

But the way he had just been with you tonight so far, was like, he was giving you the key for you, and literally you only.

"So you rememberd her exact recipe?" you inquired more, with a sparkle that Logan saw in your eyes.

"Nah, not exactly," he said, slightly timid with a grin, " 'course I adapted to today's ingredients like instant whipped cream, but it's something like what she made before."

"Do you think you could make some for me again tomorrow?" You genuinely requested, which made Logan more or less, want to fold and do as you say in a heartbeat.

But of course, he wanted to slightly play it cool. "Don't see why not," nodding in agreement.

"Good, I'm gonna bring this with me back to my room now," you announced, "Thanks so much, Logan, good night!"

You then smiled at Scott and Storm, waving them goodbye as you walked away from them, leaving them to smirk like children at Logan.

"That was cute." Storm said, bringing Logan back to his usual, serious look.

"I'd love to try some tomorrow too, Logan," Scott tried to fake his genuine statement at the same time trying not to burst a laughter out of him.

Without any words this time, Logan, holding his mug of hot chocolate in hand, passed Scott with one claw out from his other hand, slicing his cereal box in half.

"Asshole!" Scott yelled, now trying to pick up the pieces of cereal as Logan walked out of the kitchen took a sip from his mug, indulding in the fact that,

A. he made another successful hot chocolate in his life

B. he gets to make it again for you tomorrow

C. he hopes to make it for you for as long as winter's still there.

[whathorselegs]

Haven't been able to get these words out of my head. The fact they are the last thing he says. At first, I was just like "Okay, that's a very Kunikida thing to say" but then I put them into context of what just happened.

He'd been impaled and was desperately trying to use his last moments to allow Tanazaki time to escape. He knew he wasn't living after this, so as per his ideals he was going to fight until his last breath to save another life. If he can die in-service of helping someone else survive, that's enough for Kunikida.

And then he hears Atsushi shout his name. Atsushi ran up from behind Amenogozen, Kunikida probably saw him coming as well. He gripped the sword in his chest with the last of his strength to aid Atsushi in whatever way he could.

And Atsushi chose to save Tanizaki. The very thing he'd been trying to do just seconds before.

That why I think he'd smiling here, that's why I think he says his ideals will live on. Not in some abstract way, but in a direct reference to Atsushi, because he was Atsushi's mentor too. From day one, Atsushi has been seeking guidance from Kunikida, even when he didn't know how to give it.

One of the first pieces of advice Kunikida gives Atsushi is to "start thinking what you can do."

And it has been something he's been trying to figure out ever since. What can he do to help those who need it? To be worthy of living?

Both Atsushi and Kunikida want to save people. Both of them have been struggling on how to achieve that this whole time. Saving people isn't just a single action to Kunikida, it's sacrifice, it's taking on a burden, it's knowing you're tied to this person afterwards.

It's knowing you can't always save everyone no matter how much you want to. It's prioritizing saving who can and living with that.

Kunikida knew he couldn't be saved, but he hoped Tanizaki could. When Atsushi chose to leave him and save Tanizaki he following in Kunikida's footsteps.

His ideals will live on, in Atsushi.

[sleepyhoon]

THREE WEEKS & THREE DAYS - P.SH

pairing. best friend's ex!sunghoon x reader

genre. best friend's ex au, halloween au, smut, angst (if you squint).

word count. 12.2k+

warnings. alcohol consumption, drug usage, partying, driving under the influence, toxic relationships, themes of divorce, brief mention of physical abuse, smut [car sex, use of handcuffs, oral, praise kink/dirty talk, creampie]

summary. a stressful night at a Halloween party has you seeking comfort from the last person you should be involved with — your best friend's ex.

a/n. HIGHLY HIGHLY inspired by season 2 episode 1 of euphoria! this is a work of pure fiction and is NOT a reflection of how i view the members. despite writing this story, i DO NOT condone the dangerous choices the characters in this fic make and DO NOT encourage others to do so! read at your own discretion.  also, very special thanks to @zreamy for beta-reading this for me!!

When you were six, you spent Halloween night lying on a hospital bed dressed as Hannah Montana.

Everything happened so fast; one moment, you were trick-or-treating with your father and younger sister while scarfing down a Snickers bar for the first time (a king-sized one at that), and the next, your dad was rushing you to the hospital in a panic, tears in his eyes as he encouraged you to stay awake in the backseat.

By the time you’d arrived at the hospital, your body had gone completely limp, and your father struggled to carry both you and your younger sister into the hospital lobby. From what you can remember, it was like a scene from a movie: seeing your dad cry for the first time, being wheeled into an unfamiliar bright room on a mobile bed, all while dressed as your favorite popstar.

The scariest part of the night was shortly after arriving at the hospital and catching a glimpse of your reflection, not recognizing the person staring back at you. The blonde wig and blue eye contacts were to be expected, but the swollen face and half-lidded eyes were another. Had you been able to breathe (let alone talk), you likely would’ve given your sister a classic Halloween jumpscare.

Your mother had arrived only a few minutes after you did, yelling at your father loud enough to have the hospital staff threaten to kick her out. “You forgot she was allergic to peanuts?! Where was her fucking EpiPen?!”

Your dad sighed, running a hand across his face, “I forgot to pick it up. I’ve been busy with…you know.”

She scoffs, “You don’t think I’ve been busy too?! Especially now that we have to meet with the divorce lawyer once a week?!”

Your ears perk up at that, “Divorce?”

You hadn’t known much about the true meaning of divorce, except that it’s something your friend’s parents had gone through, and now he gets two of everything. Two birthdays, two Christmases, two lives. So simple yet so perfect, what child wouldn’t dream of that?

Your parents, who hadn’t even known you were awake, silence themselves immediately. Tears quickly form in your mother’s eyes as she realizes they’d been caught, trying their best to keep the news of their divorce as quiet as possible, waiting for the right moment to explain to you and your sister, Yuna, the real meaning of it, and how different your lives would be.

It dawns on them that there’s no point trying to keep this secret any longer. You were a smart kid, it was probably only a matter of time before you found out on your own, anyway. 

All in one night, you managed to survive a near-death experience, only to be followed by the news of your parents’ divorce. And somehow, at twenty-three years old, watching Lee Heeseung flirt with random girls at a Halloween party is much worse than everything you experienced that cursed night in 2007.

“Can you at least pretend that you’re having a good time?!” You can barely hear Minjeong over how loud the music is, her words fading in and out as you take a sip from your cup.

“I am having a good time, isn’t it obvious?” you reply, showing Minjeong your best fake smile.

Grinning, Minjeong shakes her head at you. “Not at all. Here, need a refill?”

Without waiting for your response, Minjeong hops off the kitchen counter and snatches the red solo cup in your hand. You don’t bother protesting, sighing as you rest your weight against the marble countertop, while she adds a mix of different ingredients to your cup.

When she’s not looking, you tilt your head in the direction of the living room, hoping to get a glance at Heeseung through the sea of drunken college students.

The only word that can be used to describe your relationship with Heeseung is ‘unfortunate’. You were together for six months, and spent most of the time fighting, making up, and having sex. It was a relentless, tiresome cycle you allowed yourself to succumb to just for the sake of not having to be alone.

Most of the arguments would start with you questioning Heeseung’s loyalty, growing suspicious upon seeing his username pop up in the likes section of random girls on social media. In hindsight, it seems like a silly thing to get upset over. The entire purpose of social media was to connect and interact with others anyway, but, why was it always girls? And why would these girls suddenly start watching your stories?

Breaking up with him was harder than you could’ve imagined, and you’re sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it without Minjeong by your side, encouraging you through the entire process. 

The aftermath was embarrassingly excruciating. For two weeks, you locked yourself in your bedroom and fell into a cycle of sleeping and crying, occasionally taking breaks to eat or use the restroom. At one point, your phone spent a full forty-eight hours without being turned on at all, causing your loved ones to panic upon not being able to get ahold of you.

Slowly but surely you managed to build yourself back up, finally starting to feel like your old self when Heeseung suggested the two of you get back together.

You were hesitant, of course, telling Heeseung you were willing to work things out if he can prove to you he’s changed and ready to be the loyal, doting boyfriend he should’ve been from the start.

So no, you’re not together. But you’re also not not together. It’s confusing.

A football player is blocking your view of Heeseung (dressed as a cowboy), you have to stand on your tip-toes to catch a glimpse of him talking to — wait, who is that?

“Patrick would not stand for this.” Minjeong interrupts your thoughts, poking fun at your costume choice of a female Patrick Bateman.

You shrug, pretending to act clueless. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Minjeong rolls her eyes, shoving your cup back into your hand “Sure, you weren’t. Come on, cheers with me.”

“To what?” you ask, suspiciously eyeing the drink she’s just handed you. Minjeong isn’t that great of a cook, so you can imagine she’s not the best bartender either. In fact, it’d be best if she stayed far away from any sort of kitchen appliance.

She thinks for a moment then excitedly extends her cup out to you. “To getting over our shitty ex-boyfriends!”

Minjeong’s ex was Park Sunghoon, they dated on and off for a year and a half before calling it quits over the summer. You don’t remember the exact reason why they broke up, there were many different factors. It didn’t matter, they were bad for each other anyway and the relationship was entirely too toxic for either of their wellbeing. 

You don’t know much about Sunghoon aside from the things Minjeong felt comfortable enough to share with you and the fact that he is on the university’s hockey team with Heeseung. You’ve probably had a handful of conversations and interactions with Sunghoon in the entire time of knowing him, and are more than happy with things staying that way.

Holding your cup up high, you match Minjeong’s smile and tap your cup against hers. “To getting over our ex-boyfriends!”

The drink is disgusting. You quickly turn away so you don’t hurt your best friend’s feelings by gagging at the taste. She manages to down her entire cup while you make quick work of pouring a majority of yours down the sink behind you.

Minjeong stares down at her empty cup with wide eyes, licking the remains off her plump lips. “Holy shit, that was so good. Do you want more? I’m gonna make myself another cup.”

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you say, snatching your cup away when she reaches for it. Minjeong raises a brow at you, and you follow up with, “I should wait before having another drink.”

She nods understandingly, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for coming up with that so quickly.

While she’s occupied with making another drink, your eyes trail back over towards Heeseung. The football player from earlier is gone, and now that your view is no longer obstructed, you watch in confusion as Heeseung now has this mystery girl by the waist, leaning his head down close to her lips as she whispers something in his ear.

This really is worse than Halloween 2007.

“Hey.” You tap Minjeong’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She follows your line of sight, scowling when it lands on Heeseung. “YN, don’t make a big deal out of this. You guys technically aren’t even together.”

“Relax, I’m just going to say hi.” You assure her, moving to head towards Heeseung when Minjeong stops you with a hand on your chest. “Think about this, please.”

You sigh, using your free hand to clutch hers and slowly bring it down from your chest. “I’ll be fine. Be back soon so we can dance, okay?”

Minjeong knows she won’t be able to stop you once your mind is made up, all she can do is sigh and wish you the best as you make a beeline for your ex. Maybe not the greatest idea on your part, but you’re too tipsy to think rationally.

Heeseung doesn’t notice you when you first approach, it takes the mystery girl awkwardly gesturing in your direction for him to finally look over at you, immediately dropping his hand from the girl’s waist. “YN!” He shouts, a little too excitedly, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in an unfamiliar bedroom with Heeseung on step one of your toxic cycle — arguing.

“You’re overreacting,” Heeseung claims. “We were just talking.”

“About what, Heeseung? Why did you have to hold her by the fucking waist to talk to her?”

“Because! She was drunk! I was holding her up so she wouldn’t fall and hurt herself!”

“Who gives a shit if she falls? She’s not your fucking girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well, neither are you.” 

His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do because he’s right; despite trying to work on things, you aren’t his girlfriend. You were the one who said you weren’t ready to get back together, not him. You shouldn’t be upset with him for talking to other girls.

And yet, here you are with tears in your eyes. 

You nod silently, avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat. 

Heeseung must realize how much his words have affected you if the way he curses at himself, and shamefully runs a hand across his face is anything to go by. “Listen, I’m sor-”

“Don’t bother.” You stand from the bed, holding back a sob.“Everything about this was a mistake. You’ll never change.”

Heeseung reaches a hand out to grab your arm as you push past him. “YN, I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, Heeseung, you did mean it,” you say, pulling the bedroom door open.

There is no point in trying to reason with Heeseung. You know in a matter of time he’ll apologize, you’ll accept it like you always do, have make-up sex, then lecture him about how important it is that he changes before you can consider getting back together. Another endless cycle you’ve fallen into.

Stepping back into the party, you head in the opposite direction of where Minjeong would be, not wanting to run into her in your current state and bump right into someone dressed as Spiderman, causing the little remains of your drink to spill over and knock to the ground. You’re grateful that a crucial part of Patrick Bateman’s costume involved a plastic raincoat, or else your outfit would have suffered a dark blue stain.

“Oh my God, YN! I’m so sorry!” Spider-Man apologizes with a thick Australian accent.

“Jake?” You question, gesturing for him to take the mask off.

He follows your command, face bright red from embarrassment or alcohol. Probably both.

“Yeah, haha, hey. Really sorry about that, I can get you a new drink.” Jake turns in the direction of the kitchen before you stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, Jake. Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Jake thinks for a moment, scratching at the small amount of stubble that’s graced his chin. He really does make a perfect Spider-Man, and if you weren’t so upset, you probably would’ve stayed and told him that.

“Upstairs, all the way down the hall. Wait! It’s occupied, people are doing coke in there, I think.”

Great.

You sigh. “Do you know if there’s another one I can use?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s one.” Jake turns, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. “Right there. I saw a few people come in and out.”

Thanking Jake, you follow his direction and head to the door at the end of the hallway.

It’s a garage, not a bathroom. But, as long as you get a moment alone, you don’t really care where you are.

After shutting the door behind you, you sit on top of a washing machine and flinch at the cold metal sending chills down your thighs.

You shouldn’t have come out tonight, you don’t even care about Halloween to begin with. It’s an overrated holiday, you wish you would’ve convinced Minjeong to stay in with you and have a classic horror movie marathon while eating takeout and pausing to hand out (peanut-free) candy to trick-or-treaters.

Though, you’re sure you still would’ve spent the better half of the night obsessively tapping through Heeseung’s Instagram stories or trying to spot him in the background of someone else’s. It was a lose-lose situation no matter what, and you find yourself wondering if there’s an end to this unhealthy cycle.

Despite being so young when it happened, you’re sure your parents’ divorce obstructed your view of love and how a healthy adult relationship should work. Your father went on to have short-lived relationships with younger women who were using him for his money, while your mother remained single and chose to criticize her ex-husband’s current lifestyle choices. They couldn’t even co-parent in peace, always making petty comments to the other during drop-offs and pick-ups, finding any and every little thing to start arguing about.

One time in particular, after spending the weekend at your father’s house, your mother slapped him in a Dairy Queen parking lot upon realizing his new girlfriend had taken you and your sister to get your ears pierced. You didn’t actually see the slap happen, but it was loud enough to echo through the empty parking lot and hard enough to leave a red mark on his face.

The memory has tears forming in your eyes for the umpteenth time tonight, but before any of them have the chance to trickle down, the garage door swings open.

You turn, and Park Sunghoon (dressed as a police officer) is staring back at you with a confused look on his face. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before pointing in the direction of the party. “Uh, Jake said this was the bathroom.”

Shaking your head, you offer him a small smile. “No, the bathroom’s upstairs but it’s being used. If you really have to go, I’m pretty sure that door leads to the backyard.” You nod your head in the direction of the other door, and Sunghoon picks up on what you’re implying.

He thanks you before jogging over to the exit, setting his cup down on a metal dog crate before turning the knob and pushing open the door.

Sunghoon stands far enough out of frame that you only see a portion of his backside, and once the sound of him pissing on the grass hits your ears, you wonder why he didn’t bother to close the door in the first place.

Men.

He clears his throat awkwardly, “So, you s–”

You cut him off. “Let’s just wait until you’re done, please.”

Sunghoon nods, mumbling, “Right, right.”

He finishes up a few seconds later, zipping his pants back up and properly adjusting himself before returning to the garage, closing the door behind him and picking his drink back up in the process. “So, I’m guessing you’re…upset because of Heeseung?”

You let out a sad chuckle that sounds more like a sob. “Lucky guess. He’s just so fucking confusing, I can’t take it.”

“You’ll be alright,” Sunghoon responds, slipping his phone from his pants pocket and unlocking it. “Heeseung’s a douchebag.”

This catches you off guard, and you’re laughing before you even realize it. “Isn’t he your friend?”

Sunghoon shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at his phone as he scrolls. “Not really. We don’t talk much if it isn’t related to hockey or school.”

A beat of silence passes, then you ask, “When Heeseung and I were together, did he mention anything about cheating on me? Or talking to other girls?”

Sunghoon glances up at you for a split second, taking in how sad and hopeful you look before returning his gaze to the weather app he’d been using to distract himself.

He wasn’t sure if Heeseung went as far as physically cheating on you, but he was definitely talking to other girls behind your back; proudly showing the hockey team countless nudes and vulgar photos they would send him, some of them coming from your own friends. 

Sunghoon can’t tell you this, you’re upset enough as it is.

“I wouldn’t know, I always tuned him out whenever he talked.”

Though he’s not sure what answer you were hoping for, Sunghoon can tell you’re a little disappointed by his response. Truthfully, he didn’t feel like getting involved in anyone else’s drama. If you wanted clarity from Heeseung, you should’ve gone straight to the source.

“Sorry,” you apologize, feeling slightly embarrassed that you probably made things awkward, “have you seen Minjeong?”

Your attempt to change the subject seems to work, because Sunghoon scoffs loudly at your question and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Have I seen the girl that just spent ten minutes yelling at me? Yeah, we may have crossed paths.” He says sarcastically, shaking his head before taking a sip of his drink.

“Yell at you? For what?”

“She fuckin’…I guess before we broke up she said I should dress up as a cop for Halloween and I must’ve said no, and now she’s saying I only dressed up like this,” he gestures towards himself, “to spite her. Fuckin’ insanity.”

“Well, did you?” You can’t help but ask, Minjeong would always go on for hours about how spiteful of a person Sunghoon was.

He shrugs, mindlessly tracing the rim of the red solo cup with his pointer finger, “Maybe, but this is all that was left in my size at the party store.”

You’re surprised Sunghoon makes you laugh as much as he does, and maybe that’s a bad thing since it’s making you enjoy talking to him. Though he technically isn’t your enemy, he’s definitely not a person you should enjoy having a conversation with. It’s not appropriate, he’s the ex boyfriend of your best friend; all your ties to him were cut the moment Minjeong broke up with him.

You should tell him to leave, that you’re really upset over Heeseung and prefer to be alone, but you don’t. Instead, you keep the conversation going, laughing every joke he makes and completely forgetting why you were upset to begin with.

Halfway through telling Sunghoon about the horrid drink Minjeong had prepared for you, your legs grow numb from having been sat on for so long. You untuck them from underneath your body, not thinking much of it as you continue on with the story, legs dangling against the cold washing machine.

Sunghoon takes notice, though, his eyes quickly darting down to the space between your legs and the white fabric that’s suddenly visible to him due to the short length of your skirt. You miss it the first time he does it, but the second and third time are hard to ignore, especially now that he doesn’t seem to mind being caught.

You really should cross your legs or call him out on his staring. Or maybe even get up and leave entirely.

To no one’s surprise you don’t do either of those things and opt to keep your panties visible enough for Sunghoon to see while you continue to talk his ear off about his ex-girlfriend. There’s something unspoken happening between the two of you, and it’s exciting yet confusing since this is the longest conversation you’ve had with him in the two years you’ve known each other. 

The strangest part of it all is that you’re just now realizing how attractive Sunghoon is, Sure, he’d always been a good looking guy, but you’d always seen him as Minjeong’s property and never paid much attention to his face out of respect for her.

But Minjeong no longer has a claim on him, and now you really notice the perfectly placed moles that graced the side of his nose and under his eye. He really was a sight to behold, you often find yourself stumbling over your words as you speak to him, becoming flustered over the intensity of the eye contact he’d been making with you.

“…my throat is still burning and it’s been, like, twenty minutes.” You say with a laugh, watching as Sunghoon finishes off his own drink.

He sets the empty cup down, licking the remaining alcohol on his lips before smacking them, “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust her in a kitchen. I’m not that good either, though. There was this one time I had to make brownies for our hockey team’s bake sale and they turned out awful. It’s like, half of them were watery and the other half were burnt. So weird.”

“That doesn’t even sound possible.”

“I’m serious! Hold on, I probably have a picture.” 

It takes Sunghoon approximately forty-five seconds of scrolling through his Snapchat memories to find a photo of those godforsaken brownies, and sure enough, they really are a watery, burnt mess. Not that you can even focus on the picture to begin with now that he’s sitting next to you on the washing machine, and you’re finally able to see him up close.

Sunghoon’s words go in one ear and out the other, because now you’re close enough to smell the cologne he’s dabbed on the back of his neck, and notice the metal handcuffs hooked in his belt loop, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else. Especially his uninteresting story about those stupid fucking brownies.

When Sunghoon locks his phone, you take it as a sign that he’s finished with his story and let out another laugh, “Not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he jokes, slightly slurring his words. 

Maybe it’s the fact that his voice sounds deeper than usual, or that he’s staring right at you with half lidded eyes, or that he's started playing with the handcuffs on his waist, but Sunghoon looks dangerously attractive right now. 

You gulp, looking down at your lap, “Well, at least one of us had a nice drink.”

Sunghoon nods, running his fingernails along your plastic raincoat, “Wanna taste mine?” He asks, eyes darting down to your lips for a split second.

If there was ever a time to get up and leave, it should’ve been now. The rational part of your brain is telling you to push Sunghoon away and return to the party and forget this encounter with him ever happened. But you can’t move, and if you’re being honest, you don’t even want to.

You’re stuck in place, heart beating out of your chest as Sunghoon leans in closer to you. You feel dizzy in the best way possible, and a part of you feels sick for enjoying the moment as much as you do. 

His breath fans your cheek, and the faint scent of alcohol on it should’ve been enough to remind you that you shouldn’t be in this situation with him. Still, you don’t move.

Right before Sunghoon has the chance to kiss you, the door swings open and you jolt away from each other out of shock, clutching your chest as you watch Jake jog into the garage.

“You guys seen my vape?” he asks, a little out of breath.

“I…no, Jake. Why would it be in the garage?” Sunghoon asks, hopping down from the washing machine. He offers a hand to help you down and you ignore it, finally starting to come back to your senses.

“Dude, I don’t fucking know! It was just in my pocket and now it’s gone, it could be anywhere. Help me look!”

Spending your night in a garage helping Jake look for a strawberry-flavored vape doesn’t sound ideal in the slightest; now is the perfect time to leave.

Heading in the direction of the party, you pause when Sunghoon calls out your name, a slight shakiness to his voice. “Keep an eye out for me, yeah?”

Another beat of silence passes, then you nod and say, “Yeah.”

In your defense, there’s nothing to feel guilty over. All you did was have a conversation with Sunghoon, and keeping an eye out for him doesn’t necessarily mean anything else will happen, right?

You try not to think too much about it as you exit the garage, holding in a laugh when Sunghoon says something along the lines of, “You’re a grown ass man, Jake.”

What Minjeong lacks in cooking, she makes up for in dancing.

While you wouldn’t consider yourself to be on her level of dancing, you’d say you’re good enough to keep up with her at a crowded party. If swaying to the music, holding hands, and grinding on each other counts as dancing, that is.

“You’re too stiff; loosen up, babe,” she comments, fingers interlocked with yours.

“Sorry,” you reply, slightly frustrated since you don’t feel like dancing in the first place. “What were you saying?”

“Oh, yeah!” Minjeong turns to face you, moving your arms to drape them around her shoulders. “Then he said I was being crazy, and that he only got the costume because it was all that was left in his size, as if I believe that.”

“Sorry that happened,” you say, and it comes out more sarcastic than you had intended it to. 

Minjeong takes notice of this, raising a brow at you before slipping her arms under your raincoat and pulling you closer to her. “You okay?”

The two of you are pressed so close up against each other that it almost feels romantic, and you’re sure if there was another drink in your system you’d probably lean in and kiss her. 

You nod. “Just thinking about Heeseung.”

Fake offended, Minjeong’s jaw drops. “You’re dancing with the hottest girl at this party, and all you can think about is your ex? I’m hurt, YN.”

Truth be told, her ex was the one you were thinking about, certainly not your own.

Not a whole lot of time has passed since you left Sunghoon in the garage, but you make sure to keep your promise of keeping an eye out for him upon returning to the party. You’re certain that on the outside you probably look panicked and frantic, eyes darting all over the place for any sign of Sunghoon.

“Well,” Minjeong starts, tugging on your tie. “Since you’re thinking about your ex, it’s only fair that I think of mine; and there he is.”

You stop yourself from excitedly shouting, “Where?!” and watch as Minjeong subtly nods towards the staircase.

Sure enough, Sunghoon is leaning against the banister, eyes zeroing in on you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“He’s been watching me for, like, ten minutes. Probably wants to see if you and I will make out, fucking pervert,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Minjeong has it wrong, Sunghoon has been watching you for the past ten minutes. Ever since he finished helping Jake find that stupid vape, he’s had his sights set on you and you only.

That other part was probably true, though.

You swallow the lump in your throat and say, “Such a pervert.” It comes out a tad more robotic than you were going for, but you tried your best. 

Once Sunghoon is sure that Minjeong is distracted, he mouths, “Bathroom,” before immediately turning around and jogging up the steps.

Fuck, are you really about to do this? 

Your eyes dart from Minjeong to the staircase, and you can’t believe you’re even considering going upstairs to meet her ex. Everything about this predicament is sick and twisted and perfectly on brand for Halloween. 

But, somehow, it’s not sick enough to stop you.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna get some air; I’m feeling kinda dizzy,” you lie, hoping it’s believable enough.

Minjeong stops dancing immediately, a look of genuine concern on her face. “Here, I’ll come with you.”

“No, no. You keep having fun, I’ll be back soon. Make another drink for me, okay? I’m sure I’ll need it,” you assure her with a smile, taking her hands into yours.

“Fine, I’ll be here. But the only drink I’m making for you is a Ginger Ale.”

Thank God.

After giving Minjeong a kiss on the cheek (feeling guilty as ever), you slip past her and head towards the direction of the backyard. Once Minjeong is fully out of sight, you switch paths and sprint up the staircase, bumping into and angering a few people along the way. 

You keep your head down once you reach the second floor, speed walking to the end of the hallway and avoiding eye contact with everyone you walk by until you reach the bathroom.

The door is closed and locked, of course, and that’s when it dawns on you that this could be one big, elaborate prank from Sunghoon. You could open the door and be met with a camera in your face with Sunghoon recording, laughing maniacally before mentioning something about telling Minjeong everything and that he stayed loyal to her the entire time.

Unfortunately for you, even that possibility doesn’t scare you away from knocking on the door and saying, “It’s me, YN.”

The knob twists before the door is pushed open, barely enough room to slide in discreetly, but you manage anyway.

Using your body weight to press the door shut, Sunghoon reaches behind you to make sure it’s locked. “You really came.”

You hate that he sounds shocked, as if he had some faith that you wouldn’t risk your friendship with Minjeong for a few minutes with him, of all people. He’s not even your type.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

Sunghoon scoffs as if you’ve said the most obvious thing in the world. “Trust me, I won’t.”

You don’t have time to overthink the meaning of his words because before you can even realize it, Sunghoon is pushing you further up against the door, and he’s kissing you, finally kissing you.

This kiss is everything but soft, and it knocks the wind out of you. Sunghoon’s hand cups your jaw, tilting your head sideways to allow himself further into your mouth. It’s wet and sloppy, you’re certain that dancing with Minjeong was far more romantic than this. You kiss back anyway, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and grabbing a fistful of his hair, shivers running down your spine when he groans into your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, Sunghoon reaches down to slip the raincoat off of you, pressing your body closer against him to ease it off. 

He pulls away slowly, his blown-out eyes focused on the string of saliva that connects your mouths to one another. “Fuck,” he groans at the sight, moving his mouth to kiss along your jaw.

You let out a moan when you feel his tongue slide against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, tilting your head back against the door. Sunghoon takes notice of this, focusing his attention on that same spot, sucking on it hard enough to leave a mark before teasingly scraping his canines along the area.

Quickly, your fingers move to unbutton your shirt, suddenly feeling warm all over. You’re only halfway done when there’s a sudden banging on the other side of the door, startling you enough to halt your movements.

“Ignore it,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. “They’ll go away.”

They don’t go away, they actually start to bang louder and harder once a few seconds pass.

Sunghoon lets out a frustrated sigh, lifting his head away from you, “Occupied!”

“Sunghoon?” You hear Minjeong’s voice on the other side of the door, causing you and Sunghoon both to freeze.

“M-Minjeong?” He stutters.

“I have to piss,” Minjeong whines, messing with the doorknob. “Hurry up!”

Sunghoon must sense your panic and the fact that you feel like bursting into loud sobs, because he places his hand over your mouth before mouthing for you to stay quiet.

Minjeong doesn’t let up on trying to open the door, and you’re sure that with just enough force, she could probably get it open.

“I’m using it! Can’t you just go outside?”

“I’m a fucking girl, Sunghoon. Just hurry up and finish.”

“Just…just hold on a second, Minnie.”

Minnie? Fuck is that about?

Sunghoon pulls you away from the door, keeping his voice and movements as low as possible. “You’re gonna have to hide in the bathtub, just lay down flat and wait for her to leave.”

“What?! What if she sees me?!” You whisper, silently praying Minjeong can’t hear you over the music.

“She won’t, okay? I’ll pull the shower curtain back. It’s the only option we have right now unless you want to jump out the window.”

You shake your head. “There has to be a better idea.”

On the other side of the door, Minjeong begins to grow impatient, anxiously tapping her foot against the floor. She’s had three full drinks and is on the verge of busting the bathroom door down if Sunghoon doesn’t open it soon. She focuses her gaze downward, raising a brow at a piece of plastic that’s been slightly pushed under the crack of the door. What is it? A shower curtain? It can’t be, why would the shower curtain be on the floor? It looks more like…

“Fuck! The cops!” A drunk voice yells before the entire house panics, sirens and flashing blue and red lights fill the house.

Inside the bathroom, Sunghoon had still been trying to convince you to lay down in the bathtub when even more panic sets in.

Minjeong bangs on the door one last time. “Sunghoon, the cops are here, you need to leave! Fuck, I gotta find YN!” She yells before taking off down the hall.

Police officers are raiding the house, and all Minjeong can focus on is finding you and making sure you're okay, while you were seconds away from hooking up with her ex. What a fucking nightmare.

“We gotta jump out the window,” Sunghoon says, hurrying over to the other side of the bathroom and forcing the window open.

“What?! Why?!”

“People are doing fucking illegal drugs at this party, YN, and now the fucking cops are here. My dad works for the city and if-” He pauses to grunt, struggling to get the window all the way open. “-news spreads that his son was at a house party that was full of people doing fucking cocaine his career will be fucking over. Fuck!”

This doesn’t explain why you have to jump out of the window with him, but you narrow it down to the possibility of Sunghoon just wanting to be around you for a little longer. And as pathetic as it sounds, you find yourself smiling at the possibility.

Sunghoon finally gets the window fully open, quickly hiking one leg over. “It’s not that far of a jump, we’ll be fine. I’ll go first then let you know when to jump.”

“You’ll catch me?” you ask, buttoning your shirt back up. Now that the raincoat is gone, you probably resemble a perverted schoolgirl costume.

Sunghoon sighs. “Yes, YN, I am going to catch you. Just be ready to run, my car’s down the street.”

He doesn’t give you any time to protest before hiking his other leg out the window and jumping down; you watch in horror as he lands face down. If it weren’t for your current predicament, you’re sure you would’ve gotten the ick.

It takes Sunghoon a few seconds to get back up, brushing himself off before standing, “Come on! Hurry!”

Despite your hesitancy, you follow Sunghoon’s action and hike a leg out of the window, staring down at him. “Are you sure about this?!”

“If you want me to catch you, you better jump now!”

Halloween fucking sucks.

You swear to yourself as you hike your other leg out of the window, saying a quick prayer as you brace yourself to jump.

Sunghoon doesn’t exactly catch you, but he does brace your fall, which is good enough for you. 

He groans in pain from the impact as you stand and dust yourself off, reaching a hand down to help him up. “Sorry!”

Sunghoon stands, feeling a tad bit dizzy and lightheaded. “Just follow me.”

It isn’t too late to turn around and find Minjeong and just leave with her. In fact, it’d be the morally correct thing to do in this situation. Not that you seem to care for morals.

You make a mental note to send Minjeong a text later as you run after Sunghoon.

Sunghoon is not that great of a driver, but this doesn't surprise you.

He's still somewhat tipsy, occasionally swerving along the empty back roads.

What makes it worse is that Minjeong has been calling and texting you nonstop, your phone practically burning a hole in your pocket as you ignore her relentless attempts.

Sunghoon is trying his hardest to stay focused on the road, but your phone ringing every few minutes was really starting to irritate him. "Just fucking answer her," he says, shaking his head.

"And say what? That I'm with you?"

Sunghoon isn't too pleased with your sarcasm and rolls his eyes, "Obviously not, YN; just do something to make her stop panicking."

That's way easier said than done, especially considering that you can barely even think about Minjeong without wanting to burst into tears. The guilt has already started to set in, and it has you questioning yourself and your morals.

You can't talk to Minjeong; it's too risky, but you can call your sister and ask her to cover for you.

Slipping your phone from your pocket, you force your eyes to unfocus and ignore the string of missed calls and messages from Minjeong, dialing your sister's phone number with trembling hands.

As always, Yuna answers on the fourth ring, sighing loudly into the phone before greeting you with a monotonous, "Hello?"

"Hey, um, I need you to help me with something," you keep your voice low, not wanting Sunghoon to hear your conversation despite being right next to him.

Yuna sighs again, "With what, YN?"

"The party I was at got raided by the cops, and we all ran, so if Minjeong calls you, I need you to tell her I'm with you," you say, your eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets when Sunghoon makes a sudden sharp turn.

"Sorry," he mutters under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

You hate that even now, you find him cute.

"Well, where are you?" Yuna asks, snapping you back to reality.

"I… it's not important, just please do me this favor."

Your sister scoffs, "You expect me to lie for you, and you can't even tell me the full story?"

"The full story isn't important, Yuna."

"Clearly, it is if you're asking me to lie to your best friend."

"Just tell her," Sunghoon groans, sounding slightly annoyed, "but make sure she doesn't tell anyone else."

Yuna doesn't have many friends, and the few she does have wouldn't even care about your drama, so it's not like she'd have anyone to share your business with. You hesitate anyway because of the principle of the situation, how just ten minutes ago you were unbuttoning your shirt for your best friend's ex. Maybe you're starting to come back to your senses because replaying the scene in your head has you cringing from embarrassment.

You lean your head against the window and squeeze your eyes shut, "I'm with Sunghoon."

The line goes silent for a few seconds, and you're worried you may have lost service from driving in such a rural area until Yuna sighs for a third time, "The pretty ones are never that bright."

"I swear it isn't like that," you plead, "just, please, help me out."

"And what will I get out of this?"

Of course, she wants something, classic younger sibling bullshit.

"Well, what do you want?"

"I don't know…a normal older sister?"

"Yuna, I don't have time for this, will you help me or not?"

Bickering with Yuna was starting to give you a headache; you were seconds away from hanging up and coming up with a new plan entirely.

"After tonight, don't involve me in this anymore; I have my own shit to deal with."

You hold back a laugh at that as if Yuna does anything other than stay home and talk to the same two people. "I won't, I swear. I'll text you when I'm close to being home; let me know if Minjeong reaches out to you."

"Whatever, just get home safe and don't do anything else stupid," Yuna says through a yawn before immediately hanging up, not giving you the chance to say goodbye.

As much as you loved your sister, the two of you weren't exactly close. The divide started sometime during high school; your interests and friend groups never really aligned and only led you to stray further away from each other.

You being fairly well-known within your high school didn't help much, either. Countless random students would approach Yuna on the daily, asking if you were seeing anyone, begging her for your number, or even giving her small gifts and treats to pass along to you. 

What annoyed her the most was that they never called her by her name, in their eyes, she was always known as "YN's sister", and nothing more than that.

You're sure Yuna doesn't hate you because of it, but it certainly didn't make her very fond of you.

"What'd she say?" Sunghoon asks, interrupting your thoughts.

"She agreed to cover for me tonight," you respond, gazing out the window, "pretty sure she's pissed, though."

"She'll get over it," Sunghoon taps the navigation system on his dashboard, "type in your address."

Despite making you jump out of a bathroom window, Sunghoon technically doesn't owe you anything. He never claimed he'd bring you back to his place to finish what you started; you quite literally only jumped because he told you to, under the pretense that maybe — just maybe — he'd want to hook up with you. 

Clearly, that wasn't happening, at least not tonight. Having to jump out the window and then proceed to drive while tipsy must've knocked some sense into him, making him realize he'd been making way too many questionable choices all in one night. 

You let out a disappointed sigh, hesitantly reaching out to type your home address into the car's GPS. The system buffers for a few seconds as it calculates the quickest route to your home before displaying an estimated travel time of thirty-eight minutes.

"Forty fucking minutes?!" Sunghoon shouts, causing you to jump. 

He sighs, cursing under his breath before reaching forward and ending the navigation route. You sit up further in the seat, ready to ask Sunghoon what he's plotting before he starts typing "7/11".

You raise a brow at this, "Why're we going there?"

Sunghoon gestures towards the navigation system as if the answer is obvious, "Your house is forty minutes away, and I'm still kinda tipsy; I'm gonna need to pull over and get something other than alcohol in my system if I'm gonna be driving for that long." There's a slight slur to his words that had you weary about him driving, so pulling over to recharge isn't a bad idea.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Sunghoon managed to safely drive the two of you to the nearest 7/11, opting to pay seventeen dollars to park in a parking garage down the street instead of the shop's personal lot.

"This neighborhood isn't that safe; I don't want anyone breaking into my car," he claims, taking up two spots as he parks in the most secluded corner possible.

The neighborhood is fairly safe; he was just being dramatic.

The walk down the street is quick and slightly awkward, with you and Sunghoon stumbling every few steps yet refusing to hold onto the other for stability.

The two of you go your separate ways upon entering the shop, Sunghoon headed straight towards the snack aisle while you make your way to the slurpee machines. The difference in your priorities was humorous, with him wanting to focus on building up energy and you wanting nothing more than a quick sugar fix.

Blue raspberry isn't necessarily your go-to flavor, but it's the only flavor on the Slurpee machine that's currently working, so you fill your plastic cup to the brim before absentmindedly reaching for a straw.

Sunghoon is still prancing around the store by the time you've finished making your drink, and despite not being that hungry, you decide to kill time by strolling through the snack aisles.

The Snickers bars and Reese's Cups look tempting as always, but you refrain, sighing as you look over the selection of peanut-contaminated candy.

"Don't even bother," Sunghoon says from behind you, causing you to gasp in shock. 

He pauses for a moment, staring at the array of snacks before grabbing a pack of Skittles and walking off.

The thought of Sunghoon being aware of your peanut allergy is as comforting as it is strange. You can't imagine this is something Minjeong randomly decided to tell him, and even if that is the case, why would he bother retaining that information? It's not like the two of you are friends.

Whatever, you're probably thinking about it too much.

After deciding on a package of powdered mini donuts and Haribo gummy bears, you proceed to the checkout counter and set your items down, looking over your shoulder at Sunghoon, who was selecting the last of his items.

The man behind the counter smiles at you, typing his employee ID number into the cash register, "How's your night going?"

"Horrible," you say, making the clerk laugh even though you weren't joking.

"Sorry to hear that," he responds, scanning your items, "your total came out to…$6.12. Oh, hello, officer."

Despite not having done anything wrong, you nearly panic before remembering Sunghoon's unfortunate costume choice.

He nods at the man, setting his own items down on the counter, "Add these too. You guys take Apple Pay?" He asks, unlocking his phone.

"Oh, you don't have to pay for mine," you say, a nervous tremble in your voice.

Sunghoon shrugs, "No big deal."

Except it is a big deal. Sunghoon behaving like a boyfriend gentleman by paying for your items only made you like him even more, which is the exact opposite of what you need right now.

You sigh, taking a literal and metaphorical step back as Sunghoon taps his phone on the card reader. 

"A cop and a schoolgirl, huh? These couple's costumes are starting to make less and less sense," the employee comments, eyes darting between you and Sunghoon. 

"We're not a couple," Sunghoon responds, a little too quickly for your liking, but whatever.

The employee apologizes, embarrassed about his implications as he bags your items and wishes the two of you a safe trip home.

On the way back to Sunghoon's car, it dawns on you that Minjeong has stopped trying to get ahold of you, which is slightly worrisome considering that she's a person who wouldn't give up that easily. 

Sunghoon climbs into the backseat this time, mumbling something about needing to rest and stretch out before driving you home. He sets the bag down on the center console, grabbing a few of his items before propping himself up against the door.

You do the same, retrieving your own items from the bag before slumping into your seat. 

When you finally unlock your phone, a new voice memo from Yuna is waiting for you. Hesitantly, you hold your phone against your ear and hit play.

Yuna lets out a loud sigh, "So, you and Minjeong must have some sort of, like,  telepathic connection because she called me as soon as I hung up on you. Anyways, I told her our cousin was also at the party and was able to, uh, give you a ride home once the cops came. Oh, and I told her your phone died and that you'd call her, um,  later or in the morning. I'm not sure if she believed it, but she calmed down.

And, by the way, I meant it when I said I don't want to be involved in whatever this is after tonight. So, for everyone's sake, if something serious is going on, do not tell me about it. Get home safe."

You're not entirely sure if you deserve a sister like Yuna, who'd go against her own morals just to cover for you, but you're grateful you have her.

you [11:54 pm] : *you liked a voice memo*

you [11:54 pm] : thanks so much

you [11:55 pm] : i promise i wont involve u anymore. if minnie calls again u can just ignore it and lmk please

yuna [11:56 pm] : oh and she told me to let you know that she's safe. tho im sure that's not your biggest concern :/

Harsh but true.

You set your phone on your lap and tear open your pack of donuts, wiping away the powdered sugar that falls onto your blouse. Much like the blue raspberry slurpee, mini powdered donuts weren't exactly your go-to snack, but your options were limited, and you weren't in the mood to roam around the store any longer.

Suddenly, Sunghoon groans from the backseat and sits up, "Phone died."

Leaning over the center console, he plugs his phone into the car charger right underneath his navigation system, resting it on the dashboard before returning to his seat. 

The car falls silent, and as much as you want to start a conversation, you're not sure where to begin. There's so much you want to ask, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue so hard you're surprised the taste of blood doesn't fill your mouth.

Sunghoon leans forward again, this time resting his cheek on the side of your seat, "What'd you get?" he asks, staring down at your lap.

You turn your head to look at him, holding up the half-eaten pack of donuts for him to see.

"Can I have one?" he asks, already holding his hand out before you could even say yes.

You hand him one regardless, watching the powder fall from the pastry as he pops it into his mouth.

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you find yourself narrowing your eyes at him as you ask, "Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"

He nods, gesturing towards the remaining donuts in a way that tells you he wants more. You hand him the remaining three, nodding back when he mumbles "Thanks" under his breath.

"How did you know that I'm allergic to peanuts?"

Sunghoon pauses, brows furrowing in utter confusion as he looks up at you, "What do you mean?"

"Earlier in the store, I was looking at the peanut candy, and you told me not to bother. I'm assuming you must've known I'm allergic, right?" You ask, fully turning around in your seat to face him.

"Um…yeah. I know."

"Okay…how?"

"I mean, was it supposed to be a secret or something?"

"What? No, of course not. Allergies are probably the one thing that shouldn't be kept secret," you respond, "I'm just curious about how you know. I don't think I've ever told you, and I can't imagine Minjeong randomly deciding to tell you."

Sunghoon awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he avoids looking at you. It takes the tips of his ears turning pink for you to realize that he's embarrassed, which only confuses you even further.

Sunghoon shrugs, staring down at the snack you've just given him, "Whenever all of us would hang out, and there was, like, food involved, I just noticed you'd pay so much attention to the ingredients of whatever it was you were eating. At first, I thought it was a calorie thing, but you never really asked about the calories, only the ingredients."

"But, how'd you know it was peanuts specifically?" you ask, feeling embarrassed about how curious you were over something as silly as a peanut allergy.

"Remember the hockey team bake sale? The one I made those terrible brownies for?" He asks, continuing when you nod, "You were there, and I remember how excited you were to try the cookies that Jake made, but right before you bought one, you asked him if there were peanuts in them. That's when I knew."

You can't remember the last time someone had paid this much attention to you, and it's dangerous, considering how easily impressed you are by the smallest things. Sunghoon was by no means a friend of yours; you hardly knew anything about each other and often kept your interactions rather short, so his being able to pick up on your peanut allergy just by watching you was … different. Maybe even nice.

You don't even realize you've been staring at him until he stops chewing and stares back, unblinking.

You look away, retrieving your Slurpee from the cup holder and taking a long sip as Sunghoon watches.

"Can I ask you something now?" he asks.

You don't respond, side-eyeing him as you continue to sip your drink.

Sunghoon smirks, amused by your sudden silence, "Why'd you meet me in the bathroom?"

You pull the straw away from your lips, voice barely above a whisper as you respond, "To see what you wanted."

He nods, taking the cup from your hands, "You knew what I wanted," he says, pausing to take a sip of your drink, "and you still came; why?"

When you don't respond, Sunghoon lets out a loud sigh and sets your cup back down in its holder, "It's okay, YN."

"It isn't."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I guess we'll never know, huh?"

This is a test of your morals, and Sunghoon knows this. Every decision you've made tonight has led you to this exact moment. There's still enough time to redeem yourself and make an excuse for your actions. You could easily lie and say that making out with Sunghoon was just a result of being tipsy and vulnerable. But now, with the two of you in his car, sobering up and coming back down to your senses, you won't be able to use those same excuses.

Realistically speaking, what are the chances of your ex's finding out? Heeseung probably wouldn't care, but Minjeong was an entirely different story.

In your defense, they've been officially broken up for three weeks and three days, so you wouldn't technically be hooking up with her boyfriend. Right?

Sunghoon must've sensed the gears turning in your head because, after a few seconds of staring at each other in silence, he leaned over the center console and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss is softer this time, nothing like how it was in the bathroom as if he's trying to coax you in and convince you it's okay, that you're doing nothing wrong.

You find yourself slipping under his spell, eyes finally fluttering shut as he gently swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. The faint taste of alcohol is still on his tongue, but he does taste much sweeter now, like the blue raspberry slurpee he'd just had. A part of you wonders if he'd done that on purpose as if tasting better would make you enjoy kissing him like this.

He pulls away, scooting farther back into his seat, "C'mere, climb over."

You do as you're told, slipping off your shoes with Sunghoon guiding you right onto his lap as you climb into the backseat. You can't help but squirm on his lap, and he can still sense a slight hesitancy in your actions, the way you shiver when he touches you, how you initially pulled back when he tried to kiss you again.

"You're nervous," he comments, eye flickering across your face.

You shrug, holding onto his shoulders for support, "I can't help it."

Beneath you, Sunghoon reaches down to unclip the handcuffs from his belt loop, "You're making it hard to focus."

"The fuck am I supposed to do, then?!" You didn't mean to shout, but your patience was starting to run thin. You felt guilty enough as it is, and Sunghoon reminding you of how nervous you are certainly didn't make it any better.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, undoing the handcuffs before grabbing your left hand. He tightens the cuff around your wrist, "Just trust me," he says simply. He sits up further in his seat, grabbing your cuffed wrist as he pulls down on the car's grab handle. He slips the empty cuff through the slot before gesturing for you to give him your free hand.

Fuck.

"Sunghoon…"

"Just trust me," he doesn't wait for a response, grabbing your wrist and bringing it up towards the empty cuff. It locks around your wrist with a click, causing him to smile in satisfaction. 

You're sure that with just the right amount of force, you could easily snap the handcuffs in half, but it's the thought that counts. With your arms and hands restricted towards the ceiling, all you can do is stare down at Sunghooon and await his next movement, his very calculated movement.

He presses his cold lips against your neck, simultaneously using his hands to slowly unbutton your blouse. The mark he'd left on your neck earlier was as prominent as ever, and it pleased him to know you were okay with him marking you up like this. He swipes his tongue against the sensitive spot, hardening in his pants when you squirm on top of him. 

His nails trace along the bare skin of your waist once he's finished unbuttoning your blouse, your bralette — that was a few sizes too small — fully on display for him. He's practically salivating at the site, his tongue sliding across his canines, completely in awe of your breasts spilling out of the flimsy, white material.

Sunghoon can't unclasp and slide off your bra, or else it'd be awkwardly hanging in the air, and trying to slip it through the handcuffs would take too much effort. Instead, he apologizes under his breath before his hands reach the front of your bra.

"Wait, Sunghoon—!"

Without warning, he stretches the fabric until it finally rips, seemingly pleased with himself if the cocky smirk is anything to go by. "Relax," he says, "I'll buy you a new one."

You don't have time to scold him because before you can even process what's happening, Sunghoon's tongue is swirling around your nipple. You swear at the sudden contact, arching your back and pressing your chest further into his face. It's almost embarrassing how such a simple act already had your head spinning.

His hands trail downward until they reach the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it upwards until it's bunched around your waist. He traces the tip of his finger across your clothes cunt, pleased with how wet you've already gotten without having done much.

Your hips buck up into his hands on instinct, desperate for the friction, borderline craving it.

Sunghoon releases your perked bud in his mouth, looking up at you as he asks, "You want me to stop?"

"No, please don't." You beg.

"So this is okay then, right?"

If your wrists weren't handcuffed to the grab handle, you're sure you would've reached down and choked him for all the teasing. "Yes, Sunghoon, it's okay! Just hurry up and do something!"

Sunghoon shakes his head at you, mumbling, "So impatient." as he moves to lie flat on his back.

You stare down at him, confused, when he doesn't immediately start undoing his pants but instead positions his head right between your thighs.

It's funny, Minjeong claimed Sunghoon wasn't really into giving head and only gave it to her a handful of times during the course of their relationship, claiming he preferred to save it for special occasions.

But yet, here he is, willingly pushing your thighs further apart before pressing his lips against your clothed cunt.

The action sends shivers down your spine, and the handcuffs around your wrist suddenly feel tighter. He presses his tongue flat against you, groaning at the taste of your slick that's soaked through your panties. You grind down on him instinctively, your body trembling with anticipation as you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Fuck." You whisper, tugging at the handcuffs in frustration.

The sound of the metal clinking makes Sunghoon chuckle, pressing a final kiss against your damped underwear before mumbling, "Cute."

He makes quick work of sliding your underwear off your legs, tossing them to the 

front seat with a grunt as you wait for him to continue. Sunghoon settles himself between your thighs again, groaning in annoyance as you hover over him. "Stop fucking hovering," he demands, attempting to pull you down directly onto his face, "it's fine."

It's too intimate; you've never even sat on Heeseung's face before, and you're sure this isn't something he's done with Minjeong.

"But, I don't wanna cru- fuck!"

Sunghoon dismisses your worries, forcing you down onto his face and instantly wrapping his lips around your clit. You barely have any time to process that this is completely new territory for you, being this intimate with a man, sitting right on his face while he drags his tongue along your cunt; gathering your wetness and dragging it up towards your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan at that, leaning your head against the cold window as your face heats up. This only encourages Sunghoon even further, and his confidence grows, feeling bold enough to tease the tip of his tongue into your hole.

You jolt up at this, biting back a moan and wishing you could reach down and grab a fistful of his hair and properly ride his face. He licks another stripe up your folds, gripping your thighs and holding your body in place when you try to squirm away. 

"Stop trying to run from me," he groans into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice sending a shiver across your body. 

He presses his face further into your cunt, moaning at how much wetter you've gotten since he's started. For a man who apparently wasn't one to eat a girl out, he sure did seem desperate and eager to have you come on his face. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was doing it for his own pleasure rather than yours, which only turns you on even more.

After a few more slides of his tongue, you finally feel your orgasm approaching, your thighs tensing around Sunghoon's head.

"I know you're close," he whispers, placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, "go ahead, use me. I know you want to."

He's practically begging at this point, big, wet eyes staring up at you in pure adoration as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. That's your breaking point, the knot in your stomach finally untying itself as your orgasm washes over you.

You let out a moan so loud that your throat hurts shortly afterward, your wrists going limp in the handcuffs as you ride out your high.

Sunghoon doesn't let up until you're practically shaking from overstimulation, your body naturally twitching and squirming away from his greedy mouth as he cleans you up. He pulls away finally, his mouth and chin completely coated with your slick as he leaves a trail of kisses on your bare thighs.

You can't help but stare down at him in awe; he looks completely dazed as if he's running off, nothing but pure desperation and lust for you. You.

"Sunghoon," you say, trying to get his attention, "I…do you keep condoms in here?"

He flutters his eyes open, shaking his head, "No, but 7/11's just down the street. I can go-"

You interrupt him with a shake of your head, "I don't wanna wait; we don't need one."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm on the pill. Just, please, fuck me already."

It's music to his ears, really.

Sunghoon slides himself back up the seat, reaching up to release you from the handcuffs. You groan at this, having gotten used to them and quite frankly enjoyed the temporary feeling of restriction.

"You liked the cuffs?" Sunghoon questions, dropping your wrists from the grab bar.

"Yeah," you admit, "I liked it more than I thought I would."

He nods at this, and you realize now that one of the cuffs is still clasped around your wrist. Sunghoon also notices this and smirks as an idea forms in his head. "Turn around."

You comply with no further questions, groaning when he suddenly pushes your body down into the seat. He brings your arms behind your back, handcuffing you once more as he lets out a sigh of pleasure. "I knew you'd like it."

Sunghoon pushes your skirt back up, straddling himself around your things after pulling his pants and boxers far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He steadies himself with a hand on your shoulder, using the other to teasingly drag his fully-hardened cock across your slick folds.

Sunghoon shivers at this, cursing at the sight as he repeats his movements. He knows he won't last much longer; he was practically seconds away from coming in his boxers just from eating you out, so he really should quit with the teasing for his own sake.

Minjeong had never allowed him to fuck her without a condom, so this type of intimacy was new and overwhelmingly good.

He finally pushes himself into you, his tip alone causing you to bite down on the leather of his seat. You already felt so full, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.

"Ah fuck," he groans, "you're so tight, you're so…fuck." He can barely even form a sentence, biting down on his bottom lip as he further inches himself inside of you.

You're not doing any better, feeling as if you're already seconds away from your second orgasm when he's hardly even done anything. It takes a minute before he's fully inside of you, pausing before he leans down and asks, "Can I move?"

"Please, I need you to."

Sunghoon nods at this, pressing a kiss against your ear before sitting himself back up. He angles your hips off the seat but presses your chest further into it, giving you (and himself) the perfect arch to comfortably slide in and out.

The first few thrusts are slow, as expected, but just enough to get you used to his size. Even this was all too much for Sunghoon; he was already dangerously close to his orgasm.

He didn't intend on speeding up his thrusts already, but he really can't help it. Everything about this feels too good. The way your walls perfectly wrap around him, and the way you're moaning and cursing for him to keep going are overwhelmingly good.

"Fuck." He moans, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses you down further into the backseat. He pulls his cock all the way out before pushing himself back in, which you seem to enjoy. He does it a few more times, mostly to humor himself since it's something he assumed you would've been annoyed by.

"Sunghoon," you pant, "I'm close."

"Already?" He asks, pushing your hips downwards until you're lying flat on your stomach.

He tries to come off as cocky and frustrated, but he really is grateful you're already so close to your orgasm, seeing that he felt like he could burst at any given second.

You nod, "Please, keep going."

He doesn't respond, opting to remain silent as you pull his cock out of you before ramming it back in at a pace much harder and faster than before. His thrusts are sloppy and borderline desperate, the sound of skin slapping and grunts filling the air shortly afterward.

The two of you could hardly keep your eyes open, too lost in the pleasure of your approaching orgasms.

Your's hits first, and Sunghoon's follows shortly after, practically filling you up to the brim with his cum. You've never felt so full and warm, heat spreading through your entire body as you slowly calm down and regulate hour breathing.

Sunghoon doesn't feel like moving, but he does anyway, slipping himself out of you with a wince, watching his cum drip out of you and onto the seat of the car. He curses at the sight, stopping himself from leaning forward and eating it out of you.

He undoes both of the handcuffs this time, helping you sit up as you avoid eye contact with each other. "Hold on," he says, re-adjusting his pants and boxers, "I should have a towel or something in the trunk."

Sunghoon steps out of the car, returning a minute later with a towel in hand. He leans down, prepared to clean you up, until you stop him, "It's okay, I got it."

He shakes his head, "I can do it for you."

"It's fine," you say, buttoning up your shirt, "I'd prefer to do it myself, actually."

Sunghoon finally gives in, handing you the towel before leaning over the center console and retrieving your panties from the passenger seat. He waits patiently for you to finish up, instructing you to just drop the towel on the floor as he hands you your underwear.

"Hey, have you…do you think you've sobered up yet?" He asks, watching as you slip your panties back on.

"Yeah, why?"

"Before I met you in the bathroom, I took a few bites of an edible, and I think it's starting to kick in. I think you should drive."

You sigh, mostly because this was not at all what you'd been hoping he'd say. "Drive where? To your place? Then where would I go?"

"I can pay for your Uber home."

"Sunghoon, it's past midnight, and I'm a girl; taking an Uber this late is too dangerous."

"Then drive back to your place; I'll sleep in the car and drive off in the morning."

You groan, "No, Minjeong might visit me in the morning. What'll she think when she sees your car in my driveway?"

"Dammit, YN, then just spend the night at my place. You can take my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch; just please drive us somewhere, for fuck's sake."

Bickering with Sunghoon somehow doesn't annoy you; in fact, it feels almost domestic. Going back and forth like a real couple.

"Fine." You say, climbing into the driver's seat.

Sunghoon's phone falls off the dashboard in the process, now charged at twenty-eight percent, and apparently, a missed text from Minjeong that was sent a few minutes ago.

The jealousy that fills your chest is downright abnormal; Minjeong is your best friend; there's no real reason for you to feel jealous of her in the first place. 

In fact, you shouldn't feel any sort of guilt at all; it's not like they're still together. They've been broken up for three weeks and three days. 

Three weeks. And Three days.

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . WAKING UP WITH THEM feat. 𝓙𝓤𝓙𝓤𝓣𝓢𝓤 𝓚𝓐𝓘𝓢𝓔𝓝!

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi + itadori yuuji

warnings! none, fluff ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hi it’s been so long + i just got a sudden urge to write with the new season + all! life has been super cray but hopefully i get to do some more jjk again ueueue! back to my roots <3

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU

it was almost a mission getting up next to gojo, or more so having to actually get out of bed when you have your overgrown clingy boyfriend wrapped around you.

his breathing is soft, the rise and fall of his chest is steady and despite the way the light barely breaks into the room you can see the way his lashes still rest along his cheeks.

now’s your chance, you think to yourself as you ease gojo’s arm from where he’s got it draped over your waist — gently as to not jolt him awake as you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed. you gently swing your legs over the edge, but just as you go to push yourself up you hear the slow, drowsy drawl of a man who’s definitely not about to let you do that.

“oh, what’s this? i don’t think so, sweet thing.” your snowy haired boyfriend grunts as his arms take their previous place around your waist from behind, tighter this time before you’re pulled back into his chest with such an ease you almost squeak. you barely heard him move and the speed he always seems to despite the early hours still makes your head feel dizzy.

“you wouldn’t leave me cold would you? where’s your heart?” gojo teases but you note that he’s warm when he’s pushing himself into the crook of your neck, letting his lips graze along the skin there as he chuckles at the way you shudder at the touch. he knows you’re pouting, your little mission not so successful—but he still thinks it’s adorable the way you melt back into him regardless.. like you were secretly hoping for the loss.

“you were literally asleep a second ago.” your words are accompanied by a playful pinch at his cheek before his large palms graze under your shirt, squeezing at your waist as he pulls away to give you a tilted look. his sleepy smirk is in place as it stretches wide before he leans into to press a quick kiss against your lips, then another against your cheek that lingers.

“oh yeah? but i thought i was still in a dream, sweet girl.” crystalline eyes pull back to look over you, mapping out your features like gojo hasn’t already committed them to memory. but you think it’s unfair how handsome he seems to look in the mornings, especially when you’re trying to resist the way he makes you want to give in to his request to stay in bed a little longer.

“yeah yeah, just get up already.”

“nuh ugh, you’ve not even given me my good morning kiss yet. how will i survive the day, hm?”

✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU

you need to get up, geto knows when your alarm goes off for the third time even though it was the first that woke him. “i know you’re awake, pretty girl.” he hums against your temple, but you’re still pressed up into him and every attempt to shake you gently awake has you inching yourself closer to his chest rather than to the edge of the bed.

“come on.” his words are accompanied by the smooth trace of his hands along the curve of your spine and you think it’s a little contradictory, the way he’s making you melt even more into him despite the way it’s supposed to be waking you up instead.

“sugu, but i’m tired.” a kiss to your forehead and a squeeze of his hand at your hips and you hear geto chuckle as he pulls back to look at you — his dark hair still messily framing his features as he pushes himself up.

“yeah? you seemed to be sleeping well when you were snoring.” he teases even as one arm still wraps around you and pulls you into him anyway. chuckling, long and low when you grumble before nuzzling into the crook of his neck to press butterfly kisses along his skin.

“i don’t snore.” you reply before you find yourself lost in him, geto always smelled good, so good you wanted to wrap yourself in him like the blanket you wrap yourself in at night. you hear him hum at your words; like he’s not quite convinced before he’s reaching over you to tap at the alarm, again.

“but we really need to get up.” he sighs but somehow manages to keep you still pressed against him as he sits up, letting you curl up against his chest as the first cold press of morning air rolls over your shoulders while he stretches.

you look up at him with drowsy features but it seems to warm you from the inside out when you notice he’s already staring, a smirk in place before he’s pinching once at your cheek and kissing your lips when they jut out into a pout.

“hey, don’t gimme that look after all of those alarms, pretty girl.”

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO

waking up with nanami was easy, or more so being woken up by him. he was always up early, waking you up with a sweet kiss against your cheek, followed by another against your temple. his coffee still lingers on his lips but you think it’s familiar, like it makes the first stretch of the day come a little easier when hes resting over you.

“morning, sweetheart.” his voice is a low drawl but he knows you’ll probably still be in bed by the time he leaves. but you know you’ll walk into the kitchen to sliced fruit on the table and your slippers will be waiting in their place over the edge — perfectly positioned for you to slide into because he knows the floor is a little colder in the morning.

“morning, kento.” your voice is cute, barely audible but nanami’s still close enough to hear it as he lets his palm push gently down the curve of your shoulder — squeezing at the skin affectionately. your eyes are barely open, but you can still feel the way he tucks the comforter over you, sighing softly before he pulls back.

“do you want me to bring in dinner?” he asks, you’re barely awake but he still waits for an answer. a little nod follows and he smiles to himself when you subconsciously roll onto his side of the bed, seeking out the small remainder of the warmth he’d left behind although you’d still rather he be next to you instead.

“then i won’t be late, i have dinner plans now after all.” nanami pulls back to take another sip of his coffee but you still seem to find the consciousness to reach out to grab at the cuff of his shirt. a drowsy blink up at him and he knows he can’t deny you when he’s leaning over you again, leaving you with another few kisses that find him having to smooth down his shirt and hair again afterwards.

✩ ˛˚ . FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

you think it’s charming, the way megumi is already looking at you as you wake, blinking blearily at your dark haired boyfriend as he gives you a content sort of look. you blink again, stretching slightly before you roll onto your side, edging yourself closer before you speak. “were you watching me sleep?”

your question is still drawled as you tease him, barely awake but you can still see the way it makes him jolt slightly — like he’s been caught in a daze as the tips of his ears sting with a blush. “no” but his reply is too quick, followed by a tsk while he’s suddenly looking everywhere but at you with a pout on his lips that only seems to lure you closer.

you giggle as you press yourself into megumi’s side, humming at the grumpy expression on his face because you still think it’s cute the way he lets you climb all over him. “what? i think it’s cute.” he softens at that, slightly as his eyes dart quickly to look at you before they’re gone again.

you let the silence settle for a few moments before you feel his arm reach to wrap gently around your waist, securing you against him before he clears his throat to finally say something. but his gaze remains on the ceiling. “i wasn’t staring..” he begins before he gives you another quick look, “.. you, you just made a sound, i was checking on you.”

you hum at megumi’s little excuse as your press your cheek into his shoulder, failing to hide the way your lips are starting to stretch into a grin that he notices before his brows furrow slightly. “hm? you looked happy about it.” you tease again and you feel his fingers squeeze at your waist slightly as he breathes out a long sigh and curls you closer.

“shutup.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITADORI YUUJI

on the rare occasions itadori seemed to wake up before you, you were never far behind — mostly because he couldn’t seem to wait too long without you. so you always seemed to find yourself woken up by a few messy kisses, pressed quickly into your cheeks, then your neck, then your nose until you’re pushing him away playfully at the way they tickle your skin.

“yuuji! i’m awake..” you huff out as your overgrown boyfriend leans his weight over you, like a giant puppy licking his owner awake in the morning as he sends you a bright grin. you always thought it was cute how pretty he still seemed to be in the mornings, even when his hair is messy and it’s barely 8am— there’s still a soft sort of glow in his eyes when they meet yours.

“morning!” itadori replies, his voice is lower than normal but he still handles you softly despite how tightly he wants to wrap you in his arms. but he was warm, sort of like sunshine and you think you quite enjoy the moments when you get to wake up under the sun.

“do you wanna get breakfast?” you ask softly and you swear you feel your boyfriend squeeze you tighter at that. but your arms wrap around him and he doesn’t think anything is gonna be as good as the feeling of you against his chest right now.

“five more minutes, babe. i wanna cuddle a little longer.” itadori’s words are muffled when he speaks them into your skin, continuing where he left off on his onslaught of kisses as he peppers them across your features. across your cheeks, along your jawline and down your neck until he’s pressing you into your pillows and groaning when you scratch your fingers through his hair.

but you accept, even though in five more minutes you know it’ll be ten.

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Your biggest fan

pairing: seungmin x afab!reader

genre: fluff, smut, college au

word count: 9.8k

warnings: sex work(kinda), masturbation, sex toys unprotected sex, face fucking, degradation, bondage, spanking, lowkey pain kink, squirting, dirty talk, orgasm control, sexting, reader is called slut and loves it hehe (lmk if i missed some haha)

a/n: i hope y'all enjoy this, please reblog if you did, i had fun with the college au🫶🏻 also, my first full seungmin fic🥹💕

check out: Masterlist

Saturday night. In any student's case that would be the perfect time to go out and party, unwind from the whole week, get drunk and maybe score a one night stand.

Not in Seungmin's case though, he has found another genre of ...entertainment. He was never the type to go out to parties, finding alcohol something that just upsets his stomach and seeing people acting even dumber than they usually do only served to make him mad, not relaxed.

His roommate Hyunjin is the exact opposite, practically surviving the whole week just for any party organized nearby, and today was no different.

"Do I look good?"- Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at Seungmin, after trying on the fifth outfit and asking the same thing every single time.

"Why are you asking redundant questions? You got a mirror."- Seungmin rolls his eyes at his roommate who was looming over his frame as he layed on his bed.

"Because like, I need to know if you'd fuck me?"- Hyunjin says nonchalantly and Seungmin makes gagging noises at him as he sits up.

"I'd never fuck you."- he shakes his head and Hyunjin groans.

"Okay but like if you were a girl or into guys, would you?"- he tries again.

"If saying yes gets you off my case, then yes."- Seungmin sighs and it's Hyunjin's turn to roll his eyes with a playful smirk appearing on his lips.

"You're so boring."- Hyunjin sticks his tongue out at Seungmin.

"And you're so childish. Let me be boring in peace."- Seungmin waves him off.

Hyunjin makes snoring noises as he grabs his jacket, barely missing the pillow projectile Seungmin aimed at him.

"Don't bother coming back, peasant!"- Seungmin yells and the door is closed with a thud.

He sighs, sitting in silence for just a few moments, waiting for Hyunjin's long legs to take him away from the dorms.

When he's sure that his roommate is far away, Seungmin gets up to lock the door before making his way back to bed.

He grabs his laptop and opens it up, typing up the familiar page into his search engine, looking for his favorite user, the one he spent so much money on. Money he made working hard during the summer, but who cares when he can spend it on whatever he wants.

Every week he waits for Saturday, his favorite day, when she does all her livestreams. Even though she never showed her face on camera, Seungmin is convinced she is the most beautiful woman to ever grace the planet.

Judging only by her beautiful curves and the way she moves and sounds when she pleases herself only fuel the fantasy of her that blooms inside Seungmin's head.

This weekend she's wearing pretty pastel pink lingerie, delicate and frilly, the tiny see-through fabric leaving nothing to the imagination except her face that Seungmin wishes he could see.

"Oh hello, MongMong22. You're finally here! I was waiting for you before I start!"- Seungmin listens to her seductive voice, imagining her smirk and a wink she'd send to the camera.

She always gives special hello's to him, always fulfills his requests because he's been there almost since day one, a constant source of payment for her.

"I have some new toys I wanna try out today."- she reveals, spreading her legs tentatively, slowly sliding her hand between them as she presses her fingers into her clit, circling it.

Seungmin lets out a breath through his nose, his boxers are already getting tight and she didn't even start with anything.

~ Let us see your tits, please!

She chuckles at the comment someone left, moving her hand away from her panties that now had a wet spot formed on them.

"Okay, when you asked so nicely."- Seungmin can hear the smirk in her voice. She undoes her bra, taking it off slowly and Seungmin palms his growing erection at the sight of her beautiful tits.

"You want me to play with my tits? Imagine it's your hands touching me?"- she cups herself, slowly massaging her breasts as a little moan escapes her lips.

~ Play with your nipples.

Someone comments what Seungmin thinks, and she brings her fingers on her nipples.

"You want me to play with my little nipples? Mm it feels so good."- she whines as she starts pinching them and rolling them between her fingers.

"How long should I play with them? Until they're all tender and swollen, so sensitive for you?"- she moans, pinching them harder.

Seungmin twitches and pulls his boxers down so he can grab his throbbing cock, pre-cum spilling out and coating his length.

"You tell me when to stop, pup."- Seungmin's dick twitches in his hand, he knows she's talking directly to him, with the nickname he chose whenever they direct message.

He slowly starts moving his hand, only on his tip, the stimulation making his gut stir as he watches her torture her nipples while she lets out the prettiest moans.

Seungmin imagines how it would feel to actually be the one to touch her nipples, reduce her to a mess of moans while only playing with her breasts.

"Are you imagining you're touching me? Or perhaps you're imagining your lips around my nipples, sucking on them like a good boy?"- Seungmin lets out a quiet noise as his hand slips down his length, now completely lubed with his pre-cum.

He moves his hand very slowly, trying to make everything last as long as possible, after all it's been a week since he's last seen her.

He stops her only when her nipples are swollen and red, when she's whimpering and begging, rutting her hips against her bed, her wet pussy dragging on the sheets beneath.

~ Touch yourself. Push your fingers inside your pussy.

Seungmin types out, now completely succumbing to the arousal traveling through his body right to his red throbbing cock.

"Of course, MongMong. Tell me how many fingers?"- she sounds sweet, and he can imagine her batting her eyelashes at him.

~ Three.

She whines at his comment, sliding her panties off and spreading her legs wide so everyone can see her pretty pussy, glistening with arousal.

"Three fingers for my pup."- she moans, playing with her clit a little before she slides her fingers on her wet folds. She slowly pushes three of her fingers in, her little pussy struggling to take so much before any preparation.

Seungmin's head is dizzy, thinking about how tight her pussy actually is, how it would feel to sink his cock inside her, open her up only to take him. He tightens his hold on his cock, imagining it's her velvety walls squeezing around him.

The schlick sounds that her pussy makes as she starts fucking her fingers into it together with her sweet whines, make Seungmin move his hand faster.

He cups his balls with his other hand, giving himself more stimulation as she plays with her nipples and fucks herself.

"Ahh, are you thinking of having your way with me? Pushing your cock inside me and fucking me raw? Filling me up, full of your warm cum? Mm, I hope you are cause I'm thinking about it too!"- she whimpers loudly.

"Come on puppy, tell me when I can cum!"- she adds, fucking herself faster, her legs shaking as she brings her hand harshly into her hole.

"Fuck!"- Seungmin curses, his cock twitching hard in his hand.

~ Cum for me.

He types out when he feels close to his own high and she lets out a little gasp.

"Yes, puppy, cum with me too! I want you to cum all over me ahh!"- she moans and Seungmin's hips jerk upwards as he cums hard, at the same time she almost screams, pulling her fingers out as she squirts, her pussy visibly clenching around nothing.

Seungmin milks his cock dry as he looks at her beautiful flushed body, her pussy and thighs covered in her juices, her breasts shaking lightly with her ragged breathing.

"I hope you came with me. Now tell me which toy should I start with first? Or should I use both of them, fill both my holes?"- she giggles and Seungmin feels his spent cock twitch against his thigh.

Oh, it's just the beginning of the night.

-

Monday comes around, the day everyone dreads but not Seungmin.

It's another day he looks forward to, because he has lectures with you.

He barely knows you, you exchanged only polite hello's and a few sentences about your assignments and professors, you being Felix's friend who is Hyunjin's friend, brought you together as sometimes the four of you sit at the same table during lunch time at the cafeteria.

You're mostly quiet, hiding in big sweaters, your hair is always up in a neat bun or ponytail, your glasses sliding down your nose as you stare at your book.

Seungmin thinks you're adorable and also unapproachable as he, himself is a little shy and he tried to take the lead a few times, only for you to bite back short answers, your voice timid and your cheeks rosy.

You were like that with Hyunjin too at the beginning, shy and barely responding to him, but since he tries to fuck anything that walks and of course tried to flirt with you one too many times, you started being sarcastic and sassy with him, turning him down every time.

Seungmin wouldn't admit it out loud but he was enjoying every time you brought the cocky Hwang Hyunjin down to earth.

You seemed to only be somewhat relaxed around Felix, probably because you've known each other for quite a while, being friends even before college started.

Seungmin wishes he could be more like Felix, more extroverted and joyful, maybe then he'd get more of your attention, maybe then he'd get to talk to you more, find out about your desires, fears, dreams and interests.

"Well, I gotta go, I have a hot date."- Hyunjin stands up first, wiggling his eyebrows. "Any of y'all are welcome to join in for a little threesome."

"Ew."- you and Seungmin say at the same time, making Felix choke on his food as he tried to laugh and swallow the meat at the same time.

"Both of you are boring."- Hyunjin puts both thumbs down and Seungmin reaches up to slap his hands, making Hyunjin trip over his feet and almost fall as he tries to avoid him.

"Don't kill him. Yet."- Felix chimes in after a chug of water.

"I see you're siding with the snores. I'll catch you later then, my little retirement squad."- Hyunjin slips away with a smirk and a salute.

"Oh shit!"- Felix gasps suddenly, scrambling to get up. "I forgot I had a study date! I'm already late, I'll see you guys later!"- he grabs his stuff in a frenzy, running away comically as he tries to balance everything in his hands.

Seungmin and you watch as Felix almost bumps into another student carrying their tray of food, apologizing profusely as the person glares at him.

"He's a disaster sometimes."- you shake your head and Seungmin is taken aback, almost forgetting you're still sitting there. With him. Alone.

This is the first time that neither Hyunjin nor Felix are together with the two of you and Seungmin gulps, his heart picking up speed as you tilt your head at him, looking at him through your glasses.

"Yeah, he is."- he answers quickly with a nervous chuckle and you seem to already move on, your nose in your book again.

"W-what are you reading?"- Seungmin tries a poor attempt at starting a conversation, when he can clearly read the title and the author since you're holding the book up.

You close the cover, looking at it like you've forgotten what you're reading.

"The giver. I've read it multiple times. I just read it sometimes between new books. To have like a familiar story before I move on to something I've never experienced before. It's comforting."- you talk, your cheeks reddening with every word you utter, your eyes darting down to your book as you scan the words you almost know at the top of your head.

"What's it about?"- Seungmin asks, actually interested in knowing what kind of story you find comforting, one you can repeat over and over again.

"It's about a seemingly utopian world where everyone has equal everything but the more details you find out about the world, as well as the role of the giver, the more your eyes open up to see it's far from being utopian. I won't spoil much in case you wish to read it someday."- you smile at Seungmin, pushing your glasses up, your eyes sparkly.

"Wow."- he exhales as he stares at your face. "I- I mean, it sounds very interesting. The book. I might give it a read."

"Let me know if you do. I wanna hear your thoughts."- you say and his heart flutters.

You wanna hear his thoughts.

"Well, it was nice talking to you but I have afternoon lectures. See you around."- you stand up, hiding your face from Seungmin and he feels a kind of longing wash over him, longing to be in your presence just for a little while more.

You quickly gather your stuff, and he sees a glimpse of your reddened cheeks as you wave bye to him and walk out, your sweet perfume lingering even after you're far down the road and Seungmin is still sitting there, his heart hammering in his chest.

He finds The Giver in the library that very same afternoon and hurries to his dorm to start reading as soon as he can.

-

Seungmin finds it easy to fall into the fictitious world of your comfort book, with every word he sees, he reads it in your voice, imagines you with your little bun, a few strands of your hair falling into your eyes and framing your pretty face, as your glasses slide down your nose.

He reads and reads, and then he thinks about you, your pretty lips and he wonders how you taste. He wonders how his hands would look while holding your face, the look you would give him as he leans in closer right before he seals his lips with yours. He wonders how it would feel to press his body against yours, to melt into your embrace. And how it would feel to be inside you, how beautiful you would be with nothing but your glasses on.

Seungmin's pants get terribly tight, but it feels wrong.

So wrong to touch himself at the thought of the sweet and kind you, so he turns to the only source of pleasure he knows. That familiar site he's on every Saturday, and when need hits, sometimes during the week too.

Like today, while his roommate is luckily away, off to fuck someone somewhere while Seungmin looks for her.

~ Hey, are you online?

Seungmin quickly sends her a message and the three dots indicating that she's typing pop up in an instant.

~ For you always, pup. Tell me what you need.

Seungmin swallows, his cock straining in his boxers.

~ Could you send me a video of you playing with your favorite toy?

He sends, and adds a generous tip immediately.

He waits for a little while, the erection painful in his boxers so he decides to shuck them off and slowly wrap his hand around his length.

~ video attachment

Seungmin jolts and clicks as fast as he can. She's completely naked, save for cute white thigh highs, her legs are spread open as she runs her favorite dildo on her wet folds.

"Mm, pup I wish it was you here with me now."- she says lowly, before she slowly starts pushing the toy into her desperate pussy.

Seungmin watches as it stretches around the dildo, sucking it in greedily and he jerks himself off faster, his legs trembling.

"I wish it was your dick stretching me, fucking me raw. I would let you cum inside me, puppy."- she moans as she pushes the whole toy inside her.

"Ahh, fuck!"- Seungmin moans a little too loudly as his cock twitches hard in his hand.

"I want you to fuck me dumb, pup. Ah, please!"- she whines desperately, fucking herself faster and harder. Seungmin moans quietly as he matches her pace, almost throwing his head back in pleasure but he doesn't want to miss a moment of her sweet pussy taking it.

"Ahh, I'm gonna cum for you!"- she moans before exploding around the toy, coating it in her release.

Seungmin's eyes roll back as he fucks his hand relentlessly, on the brink of his release.

"Cum inside me puppy, please!"- she keeps fucking herself, taking out another orgasm out of her pussy as she squirts all over herself. That tips Seungmin over the edge and he cums, spurting all over his hand and stomach.

"I hope you enjoyed that."- she giggles before the video ends.

~ Tell me if you need something more, I'll do it for you MongMong<3

He sees the last text as he clicks off the video, after saving it of course.

~ I wish I could see your face.

He types out after wiping himself off.

The typing bubble pops up and disappears a few times before she finally answers.

~ I'm sorry pup, that's the one thing I can't do.

Seungmin knew she would say that, and he understands, she doesn't even know who he is, how old he is, what he looks like. He could say he's whatever age he wants to be or send a picture of someone else, it's easy to hide behind a screen. It makes sense that she wants to keep herself safe.

~ I understand. Thank you for the vid.

~ Anytime!<3 Ty for the tip, handsome<3

Seungmin watches the video a few more times before his roommate stumbles into the dorm, and he hides his phone away, pretending to be asleep.

-

Felix and Hyunjin are deep into a heated conversation about some game characters, and Seungmin has tuned them out long ago. His attention is only on you, as you fumble with your glasses, your book resting on the side of course.

"I finished the giver."- he starts and you look up from cleaning your glasses, your eyes big and eyebrows lifted as your cheeks redden.

"Wow, that was quick! You're a fast reader."- you say, putting your glasses on and smoothing out that strand of hair that always falls out of your bun. Seungmin wishes he could reach out and put it behind your ear himself.

"The story was engaging."- he chuckles and you let out a small giggle. "Actually, it was really sad at some parts. And it ends with an open ending, we never know if they survived or not."

"I like to think they did. That's what's comforting to me."- you shrug, looking down at your plate.

"Could you imagine a world like that? To be robbed of everything that makes you unique, that makes you who you are?"- you add suddenly and Seungmin shakes his head.

"Sounds terrifying."- he says and you hum in agreement.

You seem to be contemplating something, sifting through your food with your fork as your cheeks become even more red.

Seungmin can see you muttering to yourself and he finds it so endearing.

"T-there's a book fair happening this weekend. I was wondering if you'd like to... go with me."- you say quietly, your eyes meeting his in a shy gaze.

Seungmin's heart hammers fast in his chest.

"I'd love to!"- he says a little too quickly, cringing at himself.

"Great! Um, maybe we could meet up in front of the cafeteria at 5pm?"- you ask, smiling at him.

"Sounds good."- Seungmin nods, trying not to look affected but deep in his mind he's clawing at the figurative wall.

"Where are y'all going?"- Hyunjin butts in suddenly.

"Nowhere of interest to you, Hwang."- you answer with a slight scowl on your face, and Seungmin suppresses a laugh behind his palms.

Hyunjin lifts his arms up in surrender, feigning an innocent look.

"Just say it's a date and I'll be out of your hair."- he says and you almost suffocate on your own saliva. "It's about time my little MongMong gets some."- he smirks and Seungmin is quick to punch his arm hard, making Hyunjin wail dramatically as he almost falls off the chair.

Felix is laughing histerically, holding up his phone as he films the whole chaotic scene.

Your eyes seem to widden at the nickname, the color draining from your face.

"You broke my arm!"- Hyunjin yelps, making a few people turn to look at him with an annoyed look on their faces.

"I'll break the other one too if you don't shut up."- Seungmin threatens while you sit quietly.

"Ugh... I gotta go. I'll see you Saturday."- you look at Seungmin before patting Felix on the head and saying bye to the whole table as you rush out of the cafeteria.

Seungmin stares at the door swinging after you ran out and Hyunjin smirks.

"You better get that p-"

"Finish the sentence, Hwang. I dare you."- Seungmin glares at him with his fist lifted and Hyunjin yelps.

"See! He bullies me! He beats me up!"- he says to Felix who shakes his head, chuckling.

"You're the one who starts it."- Felix says.

"Y'all are against me. I'm leaving."- Hyunjin gets up.

"Goodbye."- Seungmin says and the two of them unceremoniously flip each other off as Felix laughs at them.

"Be nice to y/n. She's a close friend of mine."- Felix says to Seungmin as soon as Hyunjin is out of earshot.

"Oh... Yeah, of course. I promise."- Seungmin says and Felix smiles.

"Good."- he nods and just then Seungmin becomes aware of the butterflies in his stomach.

-

Seungmin doesn't know how he managed to sleep the night before. Saturday was always his favorite day, but today it was even more special.

"How do I look?"- he's the one to ask Hyunjin that this time around, as his roommate lazes around on his bed, playing some dumb game on his phone.

"Yeah, I'd fuck you."- Hyunjin smirks.

"I didn't ask that, you asshole!"- Seungmin snaps and Hyunjin just laughs.

"It was implied."- he wiggles his eyebrows and Seungmin grabs his pillow.

"See this? I'm gonna suffocate you with it if you keep being gross."- he threatens and Hyunjin just smirks again.

"I mean, if that's what you're into, I'm okay with a little breath play."- he says.

"Oh my god, I am leaving. You're sick."- Seungmin makes gagging noises at his roommate, grabbing his stuff as fast as he could.

Hyunjin is giggling, loving the way he can always annoy his roommate and friend.

"Get that pussy, MongMong!"- he yells after him.

"Shut up, Hwang!"- Seungmin yells back, slamming the door as he steps out into the hallway.

Finally.

He arrives in front of the cafeteria a little too early, and he's shuffling from one foot to another, his heart stuck in his throat. Is this really happening?

Maybe he's just dreaming. If he is, he hopes he'll never wake up because there you are, walking towards him.

Seungmin almost sputters when he sees you with your hair down, wearing a dress and an oversized sweater over it.

It seems like he fell right into a scene from a movie where the protagonist finally gets the girl, and she's walking towards him in slow motion, her hair cascading down her shoulders as the wind blows through it, her face breaking into a smile as she notices him and waves.

Seungmin is absolutely stunned.

"Hey."- you say as you stand in front of him, your perfume and shampoo mixing and filling up the space between you and Seungmin melts.

"Hi. You look... different."- you dumb idiot, he thinks. You look different? What the heck is that?

"T-thanks, I guess?"- you chuckle quietly. "My hair is down, maybe because of that."- you conclude, tucking that one strand behind your ear and Seungmin's hand itches.

"Yeah, could be."- Seungmin hopes the earth swallows him up. Why is he so embarassing?

"Shall we go?"- you ask and Seungmin nods, as the two of you start walking.

Luckily, the location is only a 10 minute walk from your campus, so you didn't have to take the bus.

The two of you walked in silence at first before you found a common theme, talking about your lectures and professors.

Seungmin's worries kept slowly melting away as your conversation flows naturally.

Arriving at the fair, Seungmin had no idea it would be this big. The crowd really was something and there were so many stands with books and trinkets, somewhere down the line there were even stands with drinks and food.

"Oh wow, what a turn up this year!"- you say, your body buzzing with excitement.

"Yeah, I didn't think there'd be a crowd this huge."- Seungmin nods.

"That's not a problem, right?"- you ask, your eyes big and sparkly and he melts.

"No, of course not. I'm excited to see what they have here too."- Seungmin smiles a blindingly bright smile at you, noticing your cheeks becoming redder as you look at him.

You avert your eyes in favor of scanning the books perched on the stands, looking for a new fantasy world to immerse yourself in.

Seungmin quickly found out just how passionate you are about your reading, as you talked and talked like someone opened up a tap of water and the words kept spilling out of your lips.

To say he was delighted to see this more excited, bold side of you was an understatement. He absorbed every single thought you let out in the open, like a man with a hard addiction he wanted to hear more, he wanted you to keep talking so his brain could get a well craved dose of you.

All the talking and walking made the two of you hungry and you made your way towards one of the little fast food stands.

Your hands were occupied with two bags of books and Seungmin held two books that you recommended to him, ones that he planned to read religiously as soon as he could just so the two of you have even more to talk about.

"Let me help you with that."- he says, offering to carry your bags. You almost shy away, saying that it's not necessary but he insists so you give in.

You both get hot dogs and sodas, sitting at one of the high tables.

As you sit and eat, making small talk, Seungmin's eyes fall to your wrist, where you rolled up your sleeve.

A dainty bracelet with a little sun and half moon pendant adorns it and he wonders why it looks so familiar to him. Until it clicks.

Sunbeam28. The woman of his dreams, the one that sends him hot videos on demand, the one that calls him puppy and fucks herself in front of thousands of horny eyes. She has the same bracelet.

Seungmin swallows, it can't be.

It's just a bracelet. Maybe many other people have it, it must be. He gathers his thoughts as you sense his stare and look up at him.

There's no way someone as sweet and innocent as you says the things she says, does the things she does.

"Um, your bracelet. It's pretty."- Seungmin comments.

"Oh!"- you look at your wrist and smile fondly. "Felix got it for me, on my 18th birthday."

"Oh, that's really nice. So you and him?"- Seungmin trails off.

"He's like a brother to me."- you smile, wiping your hands on the napkin.

"Yeah, I figured."- hoped, is what he wants to say but doesn't. "It's nice that he found that bracelet for you, I mean it suits you well."- Seungmin tries again.

"He got it made for me. It's one of a kind."- you say and he almost chokes on his drink.

"Seungmin, are you okay?"- you panic as he coughs, lifting to your feet and tapping his back.

"Mhm."- he nods quickly, swallowing and then drinking again. "Fine. I'm fine."

Completely fucking fine.

That can only mean one thing. You and Sunbeam28 are the same person. Seungmin lets out a quiet incredulous laugh. Out of everywhere in the world the woman on his screen lives on the same campus as him. Out of everyone, he fell for you twice.

But the sweet shy girl with red cheeks in front of him looks nothing like the sexy seductress that could have him wrapped around her finger in a matter of seconds.

He wonders how much you hide away, and he comes to the realization that he already saw everything.

His face feels hot and you look up at him expectantly.

"You sure you're okay?"- you ask.

"Yeah, more than okay."- he tries to reassure you and maybe himself too.

It's almost your streaming time, Seungmin thinks as the two of you walk back towards the campus.

"I had a really good time."- you say shyly when he walks you to your dorm.

"Me too."- he smiles, watching you tuck your hair behind your ear.

He gets an overwhelming wish to taste your cherry colored lips.

"Well, see you Monday."- you say, before turning around and leaving hurriedly.

"See you!"- Seungmin calls behind you, clutching the books in his hand.

-

He's logged on as soon as Hyunjin disappears off to party at 11pm like clockwork.

"Hi, MongMong22. Glad to see you here again tonight."- a seductive voice says.

Again? Again, like another Sunday or again as in you somehow know?

There's no way you could know.

"Tonight is a special night. I'm feeling extra giving so I will let my viewers take complete control over me. I'm talking what toy I use, how fast or slow I go, where I put it, when I cum... Everything is in your hands my dear viewers. I'm looking forward to tonight."- you let out a little chuckle, and Seungmin is 100% sure now. You are Sunbeam28.

~ We want you naked.

Someone comments and you giggle again.

"Your wish is my command, chat."- you say and take off the flimsy see through black bra and panties.

"Here we have a selection of all my toys. I'm counting on you to be creative."- you say, spreading your legs and letting everyone see your pussy, already glistening with arousal. The thought of being at the mercy of faceless viewers excited you so much.

~ Put on the nipple clamps.

Seungmin types out quickly. He wants, no needs to ruin you. How can you walk around so shyly, your nose always in your books, while here with the promise of anonymity you're such a horny little thing. He can't wrap his head around the duality.

"Anything for you, puppy."- your voice is low as you grab your pretty shiny nipple clamps. You tease your nipples a little, pinching and pulling on them, before you put on the clamps.

A whimper spills from your lips at the pain shooting through you, bringing pleasure to your core as arousal gushes out of it.

You flick your nipples a little, moaning quietly.

~ Does it hurt?

Seungmin asks, his hand palming his hard cock through his boxers.

"Mm it hurts so good pup. So good."- you whimper as you play with them, pulling on them and biting on your lip. Wishing you could close your legs to create some friction for your throbbing pussy but you want your dear viewers to have a good look at your greedy hole the entire time.

~ Use the vibrator

Someone adds and giggles spill from your lips as you take a hold of your toy.

"On my clit?"- you ask, playing with the settings.

~ Yes

Comments pour in and you press the tip on your clit, engorged and throbbing from arousal.

"How high should I turn it on?"

~ Highest. And don't cum unless I tell you to.

Seungmin gets bold, his cock now free from it's confines as he strokes it, his pre cum lubing it up perfectly.

"Mm yes pup."- you moan, turning up the settings to the highest point you could, pressing the vibrator into your clit hard.

"Ah!"- you moan wantonly, the pleasure coursing through your veins.

Seungmin curses as he can now imagine your pretty face, all fucked out, your eyes rolled back and tongue out as you moan, your legs shaking with pleasure, your tight little pussy clenching and begging to be touched and fucked.

He wonders if you still have your glasses on.

You're on the brink, barely holding in and the chat is exploding with different comments but you're waiting for him to tell you to cum.

"P-please, puppy. I wanna cum for you. Please!"- you whimper and Seungmin smirks behind the screen, flicking his wrist and also edging himself, just so he can follow your pace.

He doesn't answer yet, waiting a little more as your legs shake violently, arousal constantly gushing out of your pussy and soaking the bedsheet underneath you.

You play with your pinched nipples, the added pain makes your mind so cloudy and you keep begging.

~ Cum for me.

Seungmin fucks his hand as you grind on your bed.

"Ah, thank you puppy!"- you whimper as you cum, squirting on the bed in front of you, the liquid slides down your ass and you whimper, grinding against your own release.

Seungmin waits, he didn't come yet, not until you fall apart.

~ Let's see that little pussy take the biggest cock.

It's like something possessed him when he types that out, he's always had requests for you but he's never been this crass.

He could see your pussy clench at his words.

"Ah puppy, you wanna see my little pussy stuffed full to the brim? See it take this monster cock inch by inch just for you?"- he can hear the smirk and the need in your voice.

~ Yes. Don't make me wait.

"Ahh my puppy is so bossy tonight."- you tease, grabbing some lube to help you out, pouring it on your hands and the dildo generously before you start spreading it as you pump the toy.

"Watch closely."- you say, the tip of the dildo slowly pushed between your folds, as it catches and slips through and your eyes roll back as the toy breaches in, stretching your little pussy around it.

You whimper, pushing more of the toy in, determined to take as much as you can, push your limits as the thick long dildo forces your cunt open.

~ Fuck yourself faster

He comments and your moans are music to Seungmin's ears, together with the wet sounds your pussy makes as you start pounding your cunt. He fists his cock, matching your pace as you strain your wrist, your hole swallowing more than half the monster dildo.

"Ahh fuck puppy, I wish it was you! Fucking me, ruining my little pussy with your cock!"- you whine as you fuck yourself, the thought of when Hyunjin called your crush MongMong the other day flying through your mind. And you imagine him.

You imagine Seungmin pounding the absolute fuck out of you and you speed up, your head thrown back, not even caring about the camera anymore.

On the other side, Seungmin's legs are shaking as he watches you come undone, his cock twitching and he can't hold it in anymore, his warm cum shooting out in spurts as you babble and fuck your cunt until you explode all over yourself.

"Ah, shit!"- you curse. "I got carried away, chat."

But the comments are overwhelmingly positive as your eyes scan through them, trying to focus on the screen.

~ Please wanna see u fuck ur ass

Someone comments, and you chuckle.

"I'm afraid time's up. But next Saturday, I will wear the prettiest buttplug just for you."- you cheekily click your tongue.

Seungmin is still trying to catch his breath.

And he still can't believe it's you. Sweet y/n. Such a desperate little slut.

He wants to make you his.

-

It's the only class all four of you have together and Seungmin has a skip in his step after the weekend.

When he sees you standing and talking to Felix, all his confidence crumbles and his face burns as he remembers what he typed out and how sinful you were during that live.

As soon as you notice him, you quickly avert your eyes, your face matching his in color as you both blush. Felix smirks as his eyes travel between the two of you.

"Hello, Minnie."- Felix teases and Seungmin narrows his eyes at him.

"Don't call me that. Sounds like you're calling me short and I'm taller than you."- he says and Felix gasps, grabbing at his chest.

"Damn, don't have to rub it in my face."- he jokes and Hyunjin appears behind him, throwing his arm around Felix's shoulders.

"Who's rubbing what into your face? I volunteer."- he smirks.

"Ew."- you and Seungmin recoil at the same time again, making the two of them chuckle and exchange knowing looks.

"Moving on."- Felix shakes Hyunjin's arm off as he pouts on the side. "Y/n and I were just talking how fun it would be if the four of us would do the assignment together. Specifically, I'd like to pair up with Hyunjin."

"Ah, I know you want me Lix. We can arrange something."- Hyunjin smirks.

"Get your head out of your ass, Hwang."- you chime in and Seungmin can't help the cackle that falls from his lips. But you notice the little blush blossoming on Felix's face and your eyes widden.

Of course he fell for the playboy's charm.

"Anyways! Seungmin and y/n can work on their part together."- Felix continues, playing with his fingers nervously as Hyunjin keeps smirking at him.

"Alright, I like that mash up."- you nod, your cheeks dusted in pink and Seungmin's heart skips a beat.

"How about you come to my place tonight and we can start?"- when did you get so bold, Seungmin thinks. Is he even breathing right now?

"S-sure, that sounds good."

"Great, Lixie you can come to our dorm then. The snooze fest will happen over at y/n's dorm and you can have the only fun person here all to yourself."- Hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows at Felix.

"I'm sure he's absolutely estatic about that."- Seungmin shakes his head, missing the way Felix fumbles over his words.

"I promise I'll behave."- Hyunjin winks.

He definitely will not behave, Seungmin thinks, but as he looks at Felix he concludes that maybe Felix would like that.

-

The evening comes around quicker than anticipated. Seungmin is in front of your door, checking his hair, his breath and his heartbeat a hundred times.

He brought his laptop and stuff to work on the project together but that's the last thing in his mind right now.

He's gonna see the room. The bed. The one you do the most sinful things on, in front of the camera.

He knocks and you open the door, looking comfy and sweet, your hair up in your famous bun, the strands falling into the frame of your glasses and you're wearing a cute pyjama set, complete with shorts that reveal your pretty legs.

That must be on purpose, Seungmin thinks, or hopes.

"Hey, I hope it's not messy. I had to help my roommate pack, she's had some family emergency so I didn't get to clean up everything."

"No, it's completely fine. I understand."- Seungmin smiles as you lead him to your room.

"Let's just go to my room, my computer and materials are there."- you say and he follows, visibly gulping.

The moment he steps in, recognition settles in his stomach.

"Sit wherever you want."- you say. Will he dare to sit on the bed?

Yes, he will.

He sits down and looks up at you, you're biting at your lip like your were contemplating something, your eyes averting away from his, your cheeks becoming rosy again.

"Let's begin."- you quickly snap out of whatever you were thinking about and sit at your table.

Seungmin is disappointed but he's convinced you'd never make the first move even if you did want him and somehow he feels he'd have to break that ice soon or he might miss his chance with you.

-

Two hours later, both of you get a little tired and hungry from all the work you've done so you decide to order some food. In the meantime you show him some of your favorite books from your book collection (part of it that you could have in the dorm), and his heart swells at your excited babbling.

The food arrives shortly and you invite Seungmin to sit next to you so the two of you can eat. The table is small, your hands keep brushing against each other as you reach for different side dishes, your knees pressed against each other.

Something stirs inside him and Seungmin watches you as you wipe your lips with a napkin, that damn hair getting in your eyes again.

He can't ignore the need anymore, his hand reaches to tuck the strand behind your ear. You freeze before you look up at him.

"You're really pretty."- he says suddenly, surprising himself.

"Seungmin-" - you start, a little gasp escaping your lips as his hand cups your cheek.

"No, let me finish. I need to say it now when I feel brave. I- I really like you. Well, more than that. I'm falling for you, y/n and I don't know if I've read the signals wrong but I think you might feel the same."

"Oh..."- you look shocked, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. "I do, I really do. I've had a crush on you ever since I first saw you."- you confess, playing with your fingers.

Seungmin feels delighted, like a weight has been lifted off of his chest and he smiles brightly and sweetly at you.

"Can I kiss you?"- he asks quietly and your heart skips a beat.

"Please."- your voice almost comes out in a whimper and both of you lean in, your lips touching, figurative fireworks exploding around you as you sigh a breath of relief into each other, your lips moving perfectly together.

The kiss becomes heated quickly, as you keep leaning closer into each other, hands roaming on your bodies.

"S-Seungmin, I need to ask you something."- you whisper against his lips and he leans back, looking at you with hazy eyes.

"Anything."- he nods.

"Are you... Are you MongMong22?"- you gulp and his eyes widden as he gasps.

"You know?"- he asks and you chuckle nervously.

"Hyunjin called you that one time. Did you know I was-"

"Sunbeam28? Found out recently. Well I figured it out by your bracelet."

"I knew you knew. As soon as you asked me about it."- you say and a glint of something dangerous shines in your eyes.

"Are you uncomfortable that I know your secret?"- Seungmin asks.

"God no. I can just skip explaining it to you, if we're gonna date. I want to be transparent about it and somehow knowing you know and that you're... well, my biggest fan is somehow comforting."- you chuckle.

"I am your biggest fan."- Seungmin smirks, his gut stirring.

"What now?"- you swallow.

"Now, I'm gonna kiss you again."- Seungmin says, his eyes darkening as he leans in and kisses you slowly, his tongue pushing your lips open and playing with yours. You moan into the kiss, holding onto him desperately as his hands ground you.

"Wanna move this to the bed?"- you ask and Seungmin lets out a chuckle as he stands up.

You stand up too, fully expecting him to take you to your bed but Seungmin grabs you, making you squeal in surprise as he turns you around, pressing you into the table, and pressing his semi hard cock into your ass. His hand grips your bun and he pulls your head back.

"A-ah!"- you whimper in surprise and arousal.

"What's your safeword?"- he asks and you shiver.

"Are you familiar with the traffic light system?"- you ask, your voice trembling.

"Of course."- his breath ghosts on your neck, lips brushing against your skin.

Your lips open and close a few times but no coherent words come out as he starts grinding his cock between your plush asscheeks.

"Is this what you craved all this time, hm?"- his voice is low as he whispers into your ear.

"Mm, yes."- you let out a shaky breath as you grip at the shelf before you.

"You act all innocent and sweet, hiding behind those big glasses when you're nothing but a little slut looking to have all her holes filled."- he says and you gasp as his free hand comes up to grab your breast.

Good thing you didn't wear a bra today.

Seungmin turns you around, his long fingers wrapping around your neck before he leans in to kiss you hard, dominating you as he presses his body against yours. You melt as you wrap your arms around him, you can't believe this is actually happening and neither can he.

For some reason it feels natural as he leads you to the bed. Before you can lay down he stops you as he smirks.

"Strip."- he orders and you listen immediately, getting rid of your pjs and your panties. You had no problem showing your body on camera, and now even less with Seungmin, knowing he loves it, knowing he came so many times just because of you.

There's a kind of power you feel in that moment, and you decide to put everything in his hands, let him take the reigns this time, knowing you definitely have him wrapped around your little finger.

Seungmin pushes you down and you sit on the bed where he's seen you sit many times before, but this time he can see your pretty face together with your beautiful body that he's seen so many times on the screen and craved to touch it.

You reach to take your glasses off and he stops you.

"Leave those on. You look so sexy like that."- he says and you whimper quietly, spreading your legs tentively.

Seungmin chuckles, hands gripping your plushy thighs.

"Already spreading your legs? So eager."- he smirks.

"Yeah, don't you want me to?"- you bat your eyelashes at him, your pussy on display, gushing with arousal, knowing that you're at his mercy now.

"Keep them open then."- he says, spreading you even more, until there's resistance and your inner thighs hurt but you stay spread for him.

"Anything for you, pup."- you smirk and hearing you say that nickname in real life makes his dick twitch. "Whatever you want I-"

"You talk too much."- he stops you, fingertips on your lips and you part them, allowing him to push two of his fingers in.

You whimper around his digits, your eyes rolling back as his other hand slides down to caress your breast and play with your nipple.

You start sucking on his fingers as he pushes them as deep as he can, pinching and pulling your nipple harshly. You jolt, moaning around him again as he hovers over you.

"You like being pacified like this?"- you nod weakly. "Maybe you need something bigger, hm?"

You keen as he pulls out his fingers, his hands moving to remove his belt and unbutton his pants.

The belt is placed aside, and he lets his pants fall to his ankles before he steps out and pushes them aside.

His shirt comes off next and you almost wanna grind on the bed from the neediness you feel.

Seungmin is smirking as you eye his bulge, gulping at the size of it.

"Whenever I watched your live streams, I wished I could see your face, so many times I've wanted to ask you to send me a video of you sucking on your favorite toy. I'd make you take all of it. I don't care how but you'd do it."

"I would! I swear!"- you whimper. "Please!"

"Please what?"- Seungmin grips your hair, your bun messed up now.

"Let me make your fantasy come true but even better."- you look at him with a mix of lust and cheekiness and Seungmin really wants to stuff your face full of his cock.

He finally gets rid of his boxers, his hard cock springing out, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

"I wanna be on my knees for you, puppy."- you whimper, and Seungmin's cock visibly twitches.

"Be my guest."- he smirks and you get down on your knees, wasting no time as you wrap your lips around his head, tongue lapping at the pre-cum.

Seungmin sucks in a sharp breath, his hand coming around to grip and hold onto your messy bun.

You suck eagerly and he chuckles a little.

"I think you want more."- he slowly slides more of his length in as he holds your head down and your eyes flutter as you look up at him hazily, folding your hands on your back.

Seungmin fucks your face slowly at first, pushing a little bit more in with every thrust, watching your pretty eyes stare at him through your glasses.

You take it, relaxing your throat and steadying your breathing, you've trained yourself to not gag and be a perfect slut, especially if one day you'd wanna reveal your face and suck on your toys in front of all your eager viewers.

Seungmin easily slides all his length into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat, your nose buried in his pubic hair.

Your eyes roll back and so do his, you're so warm and compliant, like your mouth was made for swallowing his whole cock.

"Tap my thigh if you can't take it."- he says, a bit breathless before he grips your hair harder and starts fucking your face.

Your eyes are blurry, tears sliding down your cheeks, as Seungmin abuses your throat with his thick, long cock but you love the feeling of choking on him every time his throbbing tip hits the back of your throat.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, your arousal dripping down your inner thighs and you press them together.

Seungmin's eyes are trained on your face, you look so pretty like this, all eager and full of him, your glasses sliding down your nose, strands of your hair framing your flushed teary cheeks.

"Fuck, you're beautiful."- Seungmin's cock twitches inside you, and he's already close.

Just the image of you taking it drives him crazy and he starts fucking your face wildly, you wonder how your glasses don't fall off from the strength he's fucking you with.

"I'm close."- he whines and you moan around him, more tears spilling out.

"You're gonna take all of it. Swallow like a good slut."- he moans as he fucks into you hard.

Your eyes flutter at his words and his hips stutter before he shoots his load right into your throat and you almost choke on it. You swallow as quickly as you can, taking everything he's giving you.

"Shit."- he leans away, his cock slipping out of your mouth and you cough a little, a dopey smirk on your face as he reaches to wipe your tears away.

He helps you up and kisses you until you're breathless, tasting himself on your tongue.

Your body is pushed down on your bed and Seungmin slots himself between your thighs.

"Tell me, is your collection of toys hidden somewhere around here?"

"Oh, yeah. You wanna see? Maybe use some of them on me?"- you bite on your lip.

"Another time. Tonight I want you to only know the shape of my cock."- he smirks, dragging his already semi-hard cock on your soaking wet pussy.

"S-Seungmin!"- you whimper, your pussy pulsating with arousal and need to be filled up.

He moves back, leaving you wanting more, his hands splayed on your waist and then hips before he quickly turns you around on all fours.

You gasp a little, grabbing at your pillow and you hear the buckle of his belt jingling.

"I want your hands above your head."- he says and you obey, he ties your wrists together and your hands to the bed with his belt.

You whimper as he spreads your legs more and lands a smack on your ass.

"Wanted to feel you for so long."- he runs his tip on your wet pussy, the folds opening up and inviting him in.

"Wanted to make you mine."- he growls lowly, the tip sliding inside you, one of his hands on the back of your neck, holding your head down and the other holding onto your hip.

"Make me yours, Seungmin! I want to be only yours!"- you moan as he slowly pushes in.

"Only my slut, yeah?"

"Yes, only your slut!"- his cock slides in easily due to your wetness and eagerness, he bottoms out quickly, filling you up to the brim and making both of you groan at the feeling.

"S-so full."- you moan, pushing your hips back into him.

"Yeah, you feel full?"- Seungmin chuckles, dragging his cock out before slamming it back into you with force, making your body lunge forward.

"M-more!"- you beg and Seungmin grips both your hips, knowing you can take it hard and fast, he's seen how you fuck yourself multiple times.

His hips start moving faster, slamming into you, his cock abusing your wet hole, the squelching and slapping sounds filling up the room.

"S-spank me, please!"- you moan desperately, your fingers clutching at the belt that's digging into your skin deliciously.

Seungmin indulges you, spanking you hard with every thrust, bringing his weight down onto you as he hovers over you. Your upper body is pressed into the matress, only your ass is up as you take his cock deep inside.

His other hand tangles in your messy hair, gripping a fistful of it.

You're a crying, whining mess as he rips you apart, his cock is unforgiving inside you, better than any plastic toy you have.

"Fuck, you take my cock so well. You're nothing but a little slut. Wouldn't you like it if I turned the camera on now, let everyone watch you get fucked?"

"Mm yes, yes!"- your mind is mushy and you're close, feeling like you're going to explode.

"Cum for me slut. Only for me."- Seungmin growls as he spanks you hard, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.

"Ah yes! Seungmin!"- you whine loudly, exploding around his length, and he pulls out quickly cumming on your ass as you squirt.

The feeling of his hot cum on your skin makes you whimper as you grip at the belt harder.

The only thing that can be heard for a few moments is both of you breathing heavily before you hear Seungmin standing up and leaving to your bathroom.

You lay with your eyes closed, trying to come back down from the high and he comes back with a warm wet cloth, gently cleaning you up.

"How long are you keeping me tied up?"- you smile cheekily and Seungmin chuckles, your hair is a mess, your glasses lopsided and your cheeks tear stained. You look absolutely adorable to him and he falls into you even more.

"Just a few more moments."- he teases, wiggling his eyebrows, but he reaches for the belt, untying it and freeing your hands.

Your wrists are red and Seungmin gasps a little as you turn around, he gently takes your hands in his and brings them to his lips.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you."- he says.

"No, it's fine. I can take it."- you bite on your lip as he leaves little kisses all over your heated skin.

"I wanted to ask you out on a date but um... I guess we fast-forwarded a little."- Seungmin chuckles as you slowly sit up.

"I'd love to go on a date."- you smile, your hand inching closer to his, your fingers tangling together.

"Could end up a double date with Felix and Hyunjin though."- you add, giggling behind your palm.

"I thought I picked up on that but I wasn't sure."- he shakes his head.

"We'll see tomorrow."- you shrug.

"When's your roommate coming back?"- Seungmin asks, suddenly seeming timid.

"Oh, not in a few days probably. You can stay the night if that's what you're asking."- you smirk and pull him down, grabbing your blanket and throwing it haphazardly around the two of you.

Your legs tangle together and you look at each other, hands gently roaming everywhere.

"Do you mind me stripping and doing all that stuff in front of the camera?"- you ask and Seungmin chuckles.

"No, as long as I'm the only one who gets you in real life."- he kisses your forehead and your heart flutters.

"I like the sound of that."- you smile and settle into the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around you.

Sleep comes easy to the both of you.

-

The next day as you approach the cafeteria, the two of you see Hyunjin and Felix walking towards you, holding onto each other's pinky fingers.

"Look at that."- you laugh as you near them.

Felix quickly rips his hand away from Hyunjin when he notices both of you walking towards them.

"Hey, why are you ashamed of me! I'm like the hottest guy on campus!"- Hyunjin flails his arms dramatically.

"See, it's that attitude."- Felix comments and both of you laugh.

"And here I thought you liked my cockiness."- Hyunjin narrows his eyes at Felix, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"This is what I put up with."- he shakes his head at the taller boy.

"Is there something the two of you would like to share with us?"- you smirk.

"Only if the two of you also have something to share."- Hyunjin smirks back.

"How about we share a double date on Friday?"- Seungmin asks, winking at you.

"Finally! A foursome!"- Hyunjin exclaims and Felix smacks his arm.

"No more foursomes for you."- he hisses and everyone laughs.

"Alright, alright. You can keep me all to yourself."- Hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows and Felix smiles shyly, his cheeks rosy.

You and Seungmin intertwine your fingers, your palms pressing together as you smile at each other.

Maybe it was meant to be like this from the beginning.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand

[mrsbarnesblog]

cost of betrayal

masterlist

summary: after Rafe finds out the truth about you and Hollis, he comes back from Morocco, expecting you to be gone, but you refuse to leave without trying to work things out first

word count: 1.7k.

warnings: part 2 spoilers, angst and fluff, pogue reader, arguments, trust issues

a/n: i stand Sofia and Rafe, guys. need them together asap 🙏

“I think I told you to get the fuck out of my house, Y/N?” It’s the first thing you hear when Rafe walks through the front door of his house, throwing his bag on the floor and walking right past you, not even looking in your direction. You get up from the couch, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants. 

Your chest feels tight, and your eyes are still swollen and red from the amount of crying as you silently follow him to the kitchen. That one stupid decision can cost you everything, including the man you love, and for the past few days, all you have been able to do is cry and curse yourself for being so stupid. 

You stop when Rafe leans forward with his hands on the counter, his back is unusually tense, you feel anger radiating from him even from a distance and it’s all your fault, you know that. 

“We need to talk.” You whisper, coming closer and hugging yourself with your arms. 

“I have nothing to talk to you about.” 

“Rafe, please. I need to explain.” He turns around suddenly, blue eyes colder than you have ever seen. You almost step back from Rafe’s intense gaze, because never before were you at the receiving end of that look. He was nothing but sweet and kind to you during your entire relationship, so losing that privilege hurts you even more. 

He tries to hold back, tries to calm himself down at the image of your looking at him so sadly, with regret written all over your face. Rafe breathes heavily, trying to hide the pain of feeling played by you—the only person he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. He hates that even now, even with the anger raging inside him, he still feels that instinct to protect you, to calm you.

Hurts at the realisation that he doesn't want to lose you, that a part of him feels like he cannot survive without you, that even after what you’ve done he can’t let you go. He doesn’t want you to actually leave him alone. 

“The fuck you need to explain? The way you betrayed me, huh?” He takes slow steps towards you, intimidating, almost threatening, but his voice shakes with emotions. “The way you went behind my back with that bitch Hollis to screw me up and make me lose my money? I fucking trusted you, I gave you everything and you still did that to me.” Rafe’s face was just inches from yours and you were unable to take your eyes from his, unable to even deny it, because he was not wrong. 

“I know, Rafe, I know!” You sob, unable to hold back your tears. “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant to set you up like that. I was angry at you and she appeared at that exact moment, and... 

“She was fucking angry!” He yells, throwing his hands up in the air. You flinch but still stay your ground. 

“Because you hurt me, Rafe!”

“Bullshit. I did nothing but take care of you.”

“I heard what you told your friends.” You yell back, not caring about trying to communicate properly anymore. You were wrong for doing that, yes, but the way his words made you feel at that moment was probably the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, so it wasn’t like you were the only one to blame. “That you’re not living with a pogue, that you have standards, that we’re just hooking up... I heard it all, Rafe. How did you expect me to react to that, huh?”

You see a slight shift of recognition or even regret in his eyes, but he quickly goes back to his previous coldness. 

“So you made me lose my money because of this shit?” 

“I know that it was wrong, okay? But... but do you understand what I felt at that moment? Do you understand how much it hurt me to hear it?” You sob again, desperately trying to wise away all of the tears that were streaming down your face. You’re barely able to speak properly with the lump in your throat, but you push it away because you feel there’s only one chance for you to get things straight with Rafe. 

He stays silent, his brows are knitted, whether in still-lingering anger or in a hint of regret and frustration because of the way you were feeling. Rafe always hated seeing you cry, seeing you hurt in any type of way, even if he hasn’t always been able to admit or express it, and now part of him is more angry at himself than at you. Your trembling frame, the way your shoulders shake with each sob, chips away at his anger, leaving only the fear of losing you.

“We’ve been together for more than a year, Rafe. I— I thought that it meant something to you. That I mean something to you. I was hoping that maybe all of your kook and pogue bullshit was long forgotten, but you didn’t even hesitate to say that to Topper.” Your voice is filled with sadness and despair, and you are aware that you are probably looking a mess right now. All  you can do is just wipe your face with the loose sleeves of your shirt, sniffing in between your words and trying to make your voice less shaky. 

"How was I supposed to feel?" How would you feel if you were in my situation, Rafe? If I said you did not mean anything to me and I was just having a good time?" You ask, but don’t get an answer. Instead, he just looks at you silently, with a blank expression, because he knows that he would’ve gone absolutely crazy. “I love you. I did for a long time, but you made me feel as if I was nothing to you. Just another pogue that you despise, that you keep around for fun until you find someone better and just dump!” Placing a hand on your violently beating heart, you take a deep breath before continuing. 

“It was stupid. I regretted it as soon as I did it and I wanted to tell you, but you had already signed the contract. I know I hurt you with what I did. But can you really say you didn’t hurt me first?” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. He finally mutters, his voice quieter now. “But you don’t get it, Y/N. All my life, everyone’s expected me to be a certain way, to follow the same fucking rules I don’t even believe in. I thought… I thought if I kept us under the radar, I’d protect you from that. And you know how hard it is for me to open up—that I don’t want to let people in because everyone ends up leaving me.” 

“I never meant to betray you, I never wanted to be another person who hurts you, Rafe.” You feel like you are about to collapse, burying your face in your hands and crying. 

It feels like a joke of your spiraling mind at first, but when your body suddenly gets embraced in a familiar warmth and scent, you break down completely. Rafe hugs you around your shoulders and you wrap your hands around his waist, gripping the back of his shirt and hiding your face in his chest. You’re sniffing and trembling, unable to breathe properly, until you feel his hand at the back of your head and his low voice shushing you. 

“Breathe, baby. Just breathe. ‘S okay.” He rocks both of you from side to side until your breathing straightens. The steady beating of his heart soothes you quickly, until your tears get dry on your face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I was an idiot for not protecting you the way I should’ve.” You feel him slightly leaning down. Slow, delicate kisses being left on your temple, on your cheek, and with a slight movement of your head, Rafe’s able to capture your lips. 

Your face is still sticky with tears, and your lips are swollen, but neither of you care as you start to melt against him. It’s been way to long since he left for Morocco. The stress that you’ve experienced from your fight and from the fact that you were going crazy about his safety was overwhelming. 

While he was kissing you slowly, you both realized how hard it was to stay apart for that long, not sure of what was happening between you two. 

“I’m sorry that you lost so much money because of me.” You mumbled when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. 

“You know it’s not the damn money I actually care about. I thought that I was wrong about you, that I lost you, Y/N.” You shake your head against his, caressing the sides of his face with your hands. 

Rafe lifts his free hand that was not holding your waist, placing it on top of your hand and you see the way his tense shoulders immediately relax at the feeling of his mother’s ring still on your finger. 

“We’re making it official. I don’t care about this pogue bullshit, don’t care about whatever Topper with his crazy bitch or other kooks think about it. I’m not wasting my time anymore.” You smile through happy tears now, looking Rafe in the eyes, seeing that familiar warmth that you were afraid to never experience again. He smirks back at you, holding you tighter against his chest. “No more hiding and lying, yeah, baby? I love you.” 

“Y-yes. No more of that stuff. I love you too, Ray.” You giggle before he drags you even closer to kiss you again. 

[fairyysoup]

easy living

pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader

summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing

a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.

i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 

Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.

You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.

And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 

On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 

You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?

Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 

You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 

Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?

No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.

Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?

You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.

You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 

On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 

Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.

Bloody American.

Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.

You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 

You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?

He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.

You, too, were scared and alone.

Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 

Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.

But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 

The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 

You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”

Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 

“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”

You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 

Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 

“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 

“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 

His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 

“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.

“Absolutely not.” 

“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 

“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 

You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 

“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 

Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.

You think you should pull away. You don’t. 

Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”

He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 

Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.

It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.

Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 

“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.

You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 

Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 

Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 

How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 

You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 

Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 

You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”

Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 

He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 

You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 

Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.

You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 

He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 

So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 

His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 

It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 

Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 

Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 

Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 

He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 

The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 

With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 

Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 

You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 

This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 

There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 

Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 

You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 

To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 

Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.

Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 

To keep you quiet. 

Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.

“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”

A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 

You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 

You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 

On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 

And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 

Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

pet names and looped pinkies [s.h.] 18+

hiiiii so i've never written for steve but just did a stranger things rewatch and have felt...inspired. i hope you enjoy! pls feel free to send suggestions or concepts or anything :) thanks for reading!

masterlist

summary: steve is your best friend and you have a crush on him and that's fine until one day it's not and the next thing you know you can't think or speak or breathe around him. (steve harrington x fem!reader)

warnings: loooots of pet names, fluff, pining,cursing, kissing, m masturbation, dirty talk, handjob, spitting, tiny bit of cum eating :))) 18+ ONLY!! MDNI

wc: 6.4k

part 2 here!!!!

You and Steve had been friends for quite some time now. 

Going from quietly watching him throughout high school, maybe quietly crushing on him too, to fighting monsters and trying to survive could do that to people. Make them friends, that is. 

The crush you’d been harboring on Steve didn’t go away, oh no if anything it had gotten about ten times worse in the time you’d spent growing close. That Steve you knew in high school was long gone. The, for lack of a better word, asshat you had come to blush over had turned into a protector. A funny, endearing, unnervingly hot protector that made your tummy flutter and your palms sweat. 

It didn’t help that he seemed completely unaware of your feelings, or that the things he did made your heart race and your cheeks turn pink. Linking his pinky with yours while you strolled around town, letting his thumb mindlessly rub circles on the little sliver of your stomach that was visible during movie night, giving a little tug on your hair when you said something cheeky, letting his dimple pop out when you teased him. 

And the pet names. God, the pet names! Maybe he did know! Maybe he wanted to torture you and make you squirm. They slipped from those perfect pink lips so effortlessly it kind of pissed you off. 

“Hey honey, how was work today?” 

“Sweetheart we’re gonna be late for the movie and I will not be blamed when we don’t have time to grab your snacks.” 

“Any chance you wanna pick up an extra shift and spend some time with me? What do you say, pretty?” 

He had the hair, the smile, the charm. You imagined it would be hard for anyone not to fall madly in love with him. It was surely hard for you! Steve did a good job of turning you to mush. It was hard to think around him, even harder to not think about him. 

Which is why you’re really struggling now, smushed on a far too little couch with 3 other people, your thigh pressed so tightly against Steve’s it’s making your head spin. It’s movie night, a tradition you’ve picked up and held onto tightly amidst all the craziness that happens in your small town. Steve is on your left, stuck between the arm of the couch and you. Robin is on your right with Eddie next to her and Jonathon next to him. A couch meant for 2, maybe 3, but all 4 of you packed on while the rest of your friends lounge on the floor or a chair, eyes all focused on the screen. 

Almost everyone’s eyes are focused on the screen. 

You’re staring straight ahead, sure! But while a movie that you now can’t even remember the name of is droning on, all you can think of is how your hip is touching Steve’s. Or how his pinky has somehow found yours again and they’re looped together on his lap. Or even worse, how he’s got his head resting on your shoulder and you can feel little puffs of his breath hitting your neck everytime he laughs. 

It’s driving you crazy, your hand not in his twitching by your side and your chest rising and falling a little faster than it should be while watching a comedy with your friends. You’re so distracted it takes you a few minutes to realize that Steve is no longer watching the movie, but is now focused on you and how uncomfortable you seem to be. He gives a small tug to your pinky, drawing your eyes to meet his and you’re so overwhelmed with him right now you could cry at the furrow in his brow and the small pout he’s wearing looking at you. 

“Y’alright, baby?” You can see his genuine concern at the state of you but all you can focus on is trying not to let a small whimper through your lips as you hear him call you baby. Not being able to look at him for more than a few seconds you drag your eyes away from him, a small huff leaving you while you shake your head, mainly at yourself. “I, uh m’fine. I’m fine.” Neither of you are convinced, you know that, but you can’t find it in you to care at the moment when all you can think about is taking his bottom lip between your teeth. 

He studies you once more, eyes taking you in quickly as he reaches up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingers around your neck a second longer, two fingers giving you a little pinch before he’s drawing his hand back to his lap. You find yourself staring far too long at his hand, wondering what it would feel like if he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. Or if it would be as good as you imagined to have him slip that same thumb past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, wearing that same smirk you’ve seen a thousand times.

Fuck fuck fuck. You’re so fucked. 

As soon as the thoughts come, they’re gone because the next thing you know you’re using his and Robin’s thighs as leverage to jump up from the couch, turning to face everyone with red cheeks and a forced smile. 

“So I, uh, I gotta go! Just remembered mom wanted me home early tonight, some, uh, some family thing going on. Yeah that’s it. Family thing!” Everyone is staring, eyes wide with confusion written all over their faces. You love movie night, never miss it let alone leave early. 

You don’t give anyone the chance to question you before you’re bouncing up the stairs trying to pull your shoes on as quickly as possible. You know he’ll be right behind you, asking you what’s wrong or offering a ride home. You both know you’re full of shit but you can’t find it in you to care right now, too focused on getting away from him before you do something crazy like kiss him. 

Steps away from the front door you think you’ve made it. Can almost feel the relief of the cool breeze cooling down your skin that seems to be burning up from where Steve was touching you. You're so close, less than a foot away when you realize you weren’t quick enough. 

A hand wraps around your forearm, a large calloused hand that you’d know anywhere. Shoulders slumped in defeat and you turn to face him, not all the way because you don’t think you could handle it, but enough to acknowledge his presence. “Harrington, I gotta go. You know how my mom is, this’ll be held over my head for weeks if I’m late.” Lies. All lies. Your mom fully expects you to sleep at Robins tonight. He’s quiet for what feels like hours but is really only seconds before he speaks, “Let me give you a ride then. You’ll be home in less than 5.”

Now you know that cannot happen. You cannot be in his car that smells like him. You cannot watch the way his hands grip the wheel, and you know you won’t be able to look away. You cannot be locked in a car with him where you know he’ll try and figure out why you’ve been acting so weird tonight. And honestly you just cannot be around him right now without feeling like you’re going to faint. 

“No, no, don't worry about it, it’s a quick walk and I could use the fresh air! I’m feeling a little…off right now anyways so I wouldn’t mind being alone. Go finish the movie! Love you, see you, have fun!” And before he can react or try to argue with you, reaching up on your tiptoes you plant a quick kiss to his cheek, lips tingling as you turn and run out the door, hoping to god or whoever is listening that Steve doesn’t come after you. 

What you don’t see as you’re running down the sidewalk is your best friend standing in the doorway with his hand hovering over his cheek where you just kissed him and a blush crawling up his neck as those quick seconds play on a loop in his head for the rest of the movie. 

 ****************************************

It’s been a few days since movie night. The night you’re refusing to think about but also the one you can’t seem to get out of your head. More specifically the sound of Steve calling you baby and the feel of his fingers brushing against your throat. 

Well you’ve tried not to think about it. 

You’re not sure why this is happening now. You’ve liked him for as long as you can remember so why all of a sudden do you feel like panting when your skin touches his? Why now are his little smirks and pet names enough to bring you to your knees? Over the years you’ve done good, so good, at keeping yourself together in front of him, letting his comments and flirting roll off your back. But now…now you can’t be in the same room without wanting to tug on his hair or leave marks on his chest or feel so desperate to taste him that it drives you insane. 

You don’t know what caused this switch to flip but it fucking sucks. It sucks because besides all of that, he’s still your best friend. Yeah, it’s ungodly how hot he is but he’s also still the guy who buys you your favorite ice cream when you’ve had a rough day, who goes to see scary movies with you when no one else will because you’re the only one that likes them. He’s saved you, cared for you, loved you for a few years now and honestly that just makes it worse! 

He’s mouthwatering AND a good guy. Fuck him for that. 

In the few days since you’ve seen him he’s called. 11 times? Maybe more. And you’ve been conveniently in the shower or asleep or anything else your mother can make up while you try and figure out what you’re going to say to him. The problem with this is that the longer you avoid him, the more awkward and hard this is going to be. 

So when you wake up today, 4 days after movie night, you decide it’s time to be a big girl and talk to him. Not about your feelings, god no! But it is time to at least try to be normal around him and to stop avoiding him. You already know he’s gonna look like a kicked puppy, big brown eyes staring down at you while you try and justify not talking to him for days. You’re fucked. So fucked. 

Walking downstairs you hear the phone ringing and your heart drops. Maybe you’re not ready for this. Maybe your family can just move! That should work. You’ll miss everyone but honestly this seems like your best option at this point. 

Your dad is gone for the day, your mom is standing at the counter with her purse on her shoulder like she’s about to walk out the door with her mouth open, ready to give Steve yet another excuse to why you can’t talk to him. But you’re brave. You’re a big girl who can handle a phone call with your best friend. Your hot best friend you're madly in love with and want to climb like a tree. 

Your hand is out and reaching for the phone before you can talk yourself out of it, a sigh of relief leaving your mother as she practically throws it at you, running for the door before you change your mind. It’s by your ear for a good few seconds before you hear him, his voice raspy and deep so you know he’s just woken up and it makes your whole body buzz. 

“Hello?” 

It’s now or never. Never sounds nice. “Hey! How ya been? How’s it going? How was the movie?” The questions pour out of you so quickly you’re not sure he can even understand what you’re saying but you hold your breath and wait anyway. 

“How’s it going? Are you kidding me? Fuckin’ Christ! You’ve taken about 12 showers in 4 days and couldn’t be bothered to talk to me, why don’t you tell me how it’s going.” So he was upset. Totally fair. 

“Don’t be mad at me, please.” It was the first thing that came out of your mouth and you knew it was stupid but you couldn’t help it. He deserved to be mad at you, to yell and cuss and whatever else he deemed fit. But now that you had heard his voice again for the first time in days, the thought of him being upset with you made you want to cry, even though you had done this! 

You heard him take a deep breath and knew he was running his hand through his hair, tugging on the ends the way he always did when he was stressed. “M‘not mad, sweetheart. I mean, maybe a little but I was more worried! That something had happened or I had done something or…I don’t know. Was just worried sick and…god I just fuckin’ missed you.” 

Had you mentioned that you were fucked? His words hit you a ton of bricks, any thoughts you had about moving on or maybe distancing yourself gone in an instant. Because he was worried. And he missed you. He fuckin’ missed you. And god you loved him so much it hurt, so much you could feel it in your fingertips and toes like little zaps of electricity when you thought of him or heard his voice. 

You were gone for Steve Harrington. 

“I..m’so sorry, Stevie. I missed you too, so much and I’m so sorry and I’m just…I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong, you never do! I’ve just been a mess and my minds been a mess and I thought some time to myself would help me but really it's just..it doesn’t matter. What matters is I’m sorry and I missed you.” 

“S’okay, bunny. You alright? Can talk to me about anything, you know. I’m not…I know I’m not always the best at this stuff but I’d be good for you. I’ll listen to ya all day, do whatever I can to help you. Wanna come over? Movie night just the two of us? I’ll order you pizza and get you extra buttery popcorn and some ice cream, promise.” 

The thought of being alone with Steve sends red lights flashing through your brain but when he sounds so…god when he’s saying all the right things in a voice you’d dare describe as whiny you can’t help but to want to drop everything and all but crawl to him. 

So at the expense of your sanity you agree quickly, promising you’ll be there by 8 o’clock and hang up the phone before he can call you sweetheart or bunny again running up the stairs to take the coldest shower you’ve ever taken that does nothing to erase the thoughts of Steve from your mind. 

  *****************************************

The walk to Steve’s was surprisingly calm. You weren’t freaking out completely, just a little nervous but that was nothing new to you when it came to spending time with Steve, especially alone. 

Unfortunately for you, that calm lasted for all of about 10 minutes. 

In theory it was a good idea to spend some time with Steve after ignoring him for days. It was an okay idea to agree to a movie night with your best friend. Was. 

But now that you’re standing on his porch and his door was just thrown open to reveal a freshly showered Steve, it seems like all of this was a horrible idea. 

An awful, terrible, horribly bad idea. 

Awful because you can see little beads of water from his freshly washed hair dropping and running down his throat. Awful because the urge to lean forward and run your tongue over them is so strong you swear your mouth waters a little bit. 

Terrible because he’s wearing that goddamn white t-shirt that is hugging his arms so tight and since when did his arms start to look like that? Awful because that same damn shirt is tight over his chest too. It fits him so well you can see it snug against his tummy and waist. It fits him like a glove and your hands clench at your sides to keep from touching him. 

And this is bad. So horribly bad because he’s wearing his favorite pair of light wash denim jeans that cling to his thighs so nicely you feel your knees wobble. One of your hands comes up to your mouth to run over your chin, subconsciously making sure you’re not actually drooling despite the way you wish you could drop to your knees and spend hours leaving marks on those thighs. You can’t see his ass and you’re praying to god he doesn’t turn around so you don’t have to suffer through seeing how his jeans hug him just right. 

While your mind is running a million miles a minute with thoughts of Steve, you realize you actually haven’t said anything. Haven’t made a move to greet him or walk in, instead just standing there with what you imagine is a slack jaw and wide eyes. Willing yourself to meet his gaze, you somehow manage to drag your eyes off his thighs and bring them up, up, up until you meet his. 

He definitely does not look like a kicked puppy right now. Those brown eyes are darker and he’s wearing a smirk that would make you do anything he asked. He cocks his eyebrow at you, amusement clear in his face as you try and collect yourself. 

“You look starved, honey. Wanna come in?” 

   *********************************

After the initial embarrassment wears off, you feel a little better. Somehow managing to brush off his teasing as if you weren’t just devouring him with your eyes, you follow Steve to the kitchen, laughing as he tries to balance all the snacks he’d bought for you in arms. He shot you a glare full of playfulness when you tried to help, insisting that he “was a big boy and could handle the snacks.” 

Now you find yourself on that same couch from last week, much more space between the two of you than there had been then, a good foot and half extra in fact. Steve laughed when he saw you practically throw yourself to the other end of the couch, hand reaching out for you with a little pout on his lips. “Think I’m gonna bite you or something?” God I wish. Please please please bite me! 

But instead you held out your hand reluctantly, fingers twisting with his as he tugged you toward him. Movie night flashed in your head. His clothed thigh just inches away from yours, arm thrown over your shoulders and a cheeky grin on his face as he pulled you into his side. A satisfied hum was heard and you could have sworn you heard him mumble under his breath, sounding a lot like “much better” but it was hard to hear anything with the smell of him clouding your senses. 

Trying to get your thoughts off of him you reach forward to grab the dvd case laying on the table, a small smile gracing your lips as you see what he had picked. “John Carpenter's Halloween. I thought you said you’d never watch this?” This time when you turned to him, he was the one with red cheeks and shy smile as he glanced between the movie and you. A small shrug and wink was thrown your way, “S’one of your favorites. You should know you’re the exception to my rules.” 

You’re fucked. 

Heart pounding in your chest all you could manage was a smile and a small “thank you” before turning away, hoping he’d get up and start the movie so you’d have something to distract you from how sweet he was, watching a scary movie you know he doesn’t want to watch just because it’ll make you happy. 

It was about halfway through the movie when it happened. 

Everything was going well! You were snuggled into his side, actually paying attention to the movie and not sitting there distraught over being so close to him. You were so invested you hadn’t noticed your hand slip to his thigh during a scene that had made you jump. 

But Steve noticed. 

Too engrossed in your movie to see how your hand was holding his upper thigh and it definitely would have been too high if you’d been paying attention. You didn’t notice this or the way Steve was now on red alert, whole body tense with his hand gripping the couch cushion and his eyes trained on your hand as if to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. 

He could do this, he could ignore your hand and let you watch your movie. It would be fine. He’ll just slip into the bathroom when it’s over or wait till you go home to take care of his now aching cock. And god was he aching. He didn’t dare move, too nervous that you’d get all weird and fidgety like you’d been. This was the closest you’d been to him without seeming freaked out in weeks and he was not about to ruin that. 

The smell of your lavender shampoo overwhelmed him, a groan threatening to spill out while you sat there so unaware of how beautiful you looked just existing. He noticed everything about you. The slope of your little button nose and the way your lips, your perfect pink lips, parted just so when you were lost in thought. He noticed how your cheeks would turn the prettiest shade of red when he called you baby or honey or sweetheart. And he loved it, craved it even. He couldn’t tell if it was because of him or if you were just a sensitive little thing in general. He’d take what he could get with you, even if he had to live off your rosy cheeks and holding your pinky for the rest of his life. 

“Fuck, honey, m’sorry but you have got to move your hand, please.” Steve’s voice in your ear so suddenly made you jump, a small yelp leaving your lips as you turned to see what he was talking about. You didn’t even realize you were touching him! But one look down at this thigh and you gasped, cheeks burning as your eyes moved from your hand clinging to his thigh over to now very noticeable bulge straining against those light wash jeans. Ripping your hand away as if he’d burned you, a string of curses and apologies flew out as you scrambled to move as far away as possible. 

If he looked pained with your hand on his thigh then he looked downright miserable now that you’d taken it away. “Don’t have to run away from me, honey. M’sorry, didn’t mean to scare you I just…fuck I couldn’t sit still with you holding onto me like that.” He did his best to tug you back and you let him. “Sorry, Stevie. I wasn’t…I didn’t, I was just watching the movie I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

He looked at you with furrowed brows, eyes jumping all over your face like he knew something you didn’t, like he knew something you should know. Neither of you said anything, just stared at each other for some time before he sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch before coming back to look at you again. 

Hand cradling your cheek he gave you a small, tired small like he couldn’t believe you could possibly make him uncomfortable. That is not the word he would use. “Silly girl, I’m not uncomfortable because your hand was on me. I’m uncomfortable because your hand on me is making me wanna pin you down and fuck you so hard you can’t think straight.”

Oh. Oh. 

Lips parted you just stared at him, not sure you’d be able to form a coherent thought let alone words right now. He wanted to fuck you? Since when? Why hasn’t he ever brought this up? Doesn’t he know you’d do anything he asked of you? 

Steve let you process, could see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours and your eyes switching from looking at him to looking at where his cock was pressing up against the zipper of his pants. Maybe he’d said too much, gone too far. He was almost certain now that you liked him, wanted him, but maybe it was too overwhelming to be so blunt with you. 

“Y’know what baby? I can see you freaking out and I didn’t mean to make you nervous so I’m gonna go to the bathroom, alright? Gonna take care of this real quick and then we can finish the movie, can start another one if you want. I’ll be right back and we can figure this out later.” It was him getting off the couch that broke you out of whatever spell you were under, hand wrapping around his arm and if you weren’t so desperate for this, for him, you’d be embarrassed by the look of panic in your eyes at the thought of not getting to see this, to make him feel good. 

“Please stay. Just…fuck just stay, okay?” 

Both of you paused, staring at each other and waiting for someone to move or to breathe or just do something. A soft “okay” was murmured between you, Steve settling back into the couch as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Fuck was this really happening? 

“Whatever you want to happen can happen, baby.” 

You definitely didn’t mean to say that out loud but now that you had, a little burst of courage hit you and you just let it pour out. “Didn’t mean to say that out loud I just..I didn’t…I’m nervous. You make me nervous. I want this. I want this so bad you have no idea but I didn’t know you wanted this so now my head is fucked and I’m rambling and kinda freaking out but you can stay. You can stay and I can watch or I can help or whatever you want just..stay. Ok?” You dared a glance up at Steve, his eyes wide and a grin broke out on his face. He looked as if you’d just handed him the moon not offered to watch him get off. 

Taking your hand in his he gave you a squeeze, “We’ll go slow. I can start and you can watch and if you wanna do more, feel fucking free, honey. But if you don’t, that’s fine. If you want me to stop, say the word. You’re in charge here,” he paused, lifting his hand to take my chin between his fingers so I’d be forced to meet his eyes, “and for the record, there hasn’t been I second I've known you where I haven’t wanted this. I’ll take anything you give me, swear it. Whatever you want, any way you want.” 

“Kiss me, please.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice, moving his hand to cup your cheek and pulling you toward him, his lips pressing against yours soft at first, testing the waters and trying to keep you calm. His lips were just as soft as you’d imagined, sweet like the candy he’d been eating earlier. You groaned against him, pushing closer and opening your mouth to invite him in, the thought of his tongue on yours enough to have you reaching your hands into his hair to tug him closer, closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between you. 

He pulled back first, a string of spit connecting the two of you and he cursed at the sight, “Jesus, fuck I can’t believe you’ve kept this sweet, pretty mouth away from me. S’not nice, baby. So mean to me, yeah?” If you thought you were desperate before it was nothing compared to now, now that you’d had a taste of him. 

“M’sorry Stevie, so sorry, not gonna keep em from you anymore. Promise, promise, promise.” You’re barely making sense, your head spinning and your body on fire. Foreheads pressed together you tried to catch your breath, but you couldn’t think or breathe or function when he was this close to you with his swollen, spit kissed lips just inches away from yours. 

Coming out of your post-kiss haze you move back beside Steve, eager and desperate to finally see him, all of him. His eyes widen as your hands go to the button of his jeans, tugging relentlessly and you're just so cute he has to laugh. Eager too and fuck how did he get so lucky?

“Take em off, please. Want them off, Stevie.” You’re full on pouting now and it takes everything in you not to cry. You’d do it if he wanted, you’d do anything. But he doesnt let it get that far, taking your hands off his jeans and cooing at you and it makes you feel a little pathetic but you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when he’s about to finally pull down his pants. 

He does so wordlessly, eyes bouncing from his lap to your face every few seconds like he’s checking in on you, making sure he’s not missing anything and that you still want this. It makes your tummy flutter and your heart race, his caring for you. His pants pushed down to his knees is all he can manage, head too fuzzy thinking about you and how he’s so hard it hurts worse than it ever has.

As soon as his jeans were out of your way you were staring, gawking really, at the white boxers sitting so prettily on his hips that were doing nothing to hide how hard, how big he was. A small wet patch forming where you know his tip is resting and it makes your mouth water. He’s just so hot. So hot and it makes it even better that this is because of you. Fuck.

A beg was on the tip of your tongue but before you could he put you out of your misery. Lifting his hips up you had to dig your nails into your palm to keep still while he pulled his boxers down, pretty, messy, cock slapping against his stomach. “Jesus fucking Christ, Steve! You’re so…I’m…fuck.” He breathed out a laugh which quickly turned to a wince when we saw how you were looking at him, at his cock. He felt himself twitch under your stare and you swear your mouth just fell open as if it was meant to be. 

His hand drifted towards his cock, eyes still on you to make sure you were okay. You gave him a nod and the sigh of relief you both had when he finally wrapped his hand around himself would have made you laugh if you weren’t throbbing. His head fell back against the couch and you were torn between watching him touch himself or watching his face while he did it. The former won, your eyes trailing the way his hand moved slowly, teasing the both of you. 

“S’pretty, you’re so pretty…” You’re not even sure you were talking to him, more just to yourself but he heard you nonetheless. His hips jerked at that, a small moan slipping past his swollen lips as he turned his head toward you, watching you with hooded eyes. I could watch this forever, you thought. 

You couldn’t believe it. A few days ago you were thinking of ways to never speak to Steve again and now here you were, watching him stroke his cock in front of you and looking at him as if he was your last meal. He held his hand out, a silent plea for something but you didn’t know what, not until he spoke.

“So good, baby, so pretty. Can you ju-just spit on my hand for me, honey? Lick it, spit on it, anything you want, I just need you please.” His words were slurred and if you hadn’t spent the last few hours together you would think he was drunk. He seemed so out of it, but in the best way. Like he didn’t just want you but needed you. It made you feel good, better than you ever had and it gave you a spark of bravery you were missing before. 

Knocking his hand out of your way you leaned forward with cautious eyes, watching as he tried to figure out what you were doing until it dawned on him and his cock twitched in his hand. You leaned forward, face hovering inches above him and spit, both of you watching as it dropped from your mouth to his tip, covering the top of his hand as he began to stroke himself again. His lips parted in an “o”, eyes squeezed shut and his tummy clenching as he let out the loudest moan you had heard, so loud and strong you felt yourself clenching around nothing.

You were wet but with Steve looking and sounding like that you couldn’t bring yourself to care about how bad you were aching right now, far too focused on Steve and how his thighs were starting to shake a little and his hips were starting to move faster and more uneven. 

“C-can I?” 

His eyes shot open, head shaking furiously before he had even fully understood what you were asking. He knew he wouldn't last more than ten seconds if you touched him but he couldn’t care less. All he could think about was how pretty you were, how good he was feeling, how you had just fucking spit on his cock. He would take whatever you gave him. 

With a whine that you would replay in your mind for the rest of your life he took his hand off, tugging yours closer to take his place. Both of you moaned at the contact and you were almost convinced you could cum just from touching him. “Help me, I want you to feel good, please.” He looked like a bobblehead as he nodded, putting his much larger hand over yours and giving it a squeeze, helping you to stroke him just how he liked, though anything from you would feel a million times better than his own hand. 

Addicted would be the word to describe it. Now that you had touched him, felt how hot and smooth his cock was in your hand, how pretty it looked all pink and wet and coated in your spit. Steve liked it messy and apparently so did you. You thought you were addicted to his cock, and you were, but nothing prepared you for the absolute filth that started spilling from him once he finally had your hand on him. It made you dizzy and out of breath and goddamn you would have to throw these panties in the trash after this. Absolutely ruined, just like you were. 

“Fuckin’ dreamed about this, ‘bout your hand on my cock, s’good, baby.”

“Don’t think I don’t see you squirming, honey. My pretty girl all wet ‘n needy and I haven’t even touched you. Bet you’re drenched and achy, huh?”

“Gonna make me cum, gonna make a mess of us but I bet you’ll be good and clean it up for me, won’t ya, bunny?”

He was babbling now and you could barely make sense of what he was saying but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t and you didn’t want to. His cock was slick with precum and your spit one of his hands guiding yours in quick strokes while his other was gripping the couch so hard his knuckles were white. 

“M’close, honey…so so close.”

“Please, Stevie…want it, I need it, please.” And that was all it took. No warning, your words taking him by surprise and hitting him like a punch to the gut. He took his hand off, bringing it to your hair and tugging you to him. It was a messy kiss, lips pressed together while he moaned against you, just breathing each other in while he cursed and whined, his hips stilling and you slowed, looking down just in time to see him cum. Your hand and his lower stomach was covered, his hand that was gripping the couch now thrown over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. 

Chest and neck covered in sweat, he looked good. When he finally had gathered himself enough to look at you, he instantly regretted it. Instead of his innocent best friend, his sweet little bunny, he was looking at a little devil lapping at his cum on her hand like she hadn’t eaten in days. His softening cock twitched against his thighs and he stifled a groan when you hummed happily at the taste. 

“Christ, you’re gonna kill me.” You shrugged half heartedly, not even a little bit of you was sorry. 

“Can we finish the movie now, Stevie? I’ll probably pass out soon you wore me out, but I’m too tired to move.”

He looked down at you a little confused, your cheeks still pink and thighs still clenched together tightly. “You don’t…I can…I wanna take care of you too, sweetheart. Been dying to get a taste of you, know you’re sweet.”

You giggled and even though you were a mess, in every sense of the word, you didn’t think you could handle anymore and told him as such, eyes already feeling droopy and your body sagging against him. “Next time? Promise you can do anything you want to me next time but watching you cum was enough for me.” Your cheeks flamed as if you hadn’t just licked your best friend’s cum off your hand. 

“Alright, honey. Let’s finish your movie, you little vixen. Didn’t even take me out to dinner before you were drooling over my cock. A crime!” His smile was bright as you smacked at his chest and cursed him for teasing you.

You were sure that what had just happened would hit you soon and the panic would set in but for now you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you pressed a kiss to Steve’s bare chest and felt his grin against the top of your head. 

Did I mention I was fucked? 

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [10] - Storm

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: A sudden storm can be overwhelming.

Word Count: 3670

CW: Explicit language, blood, injuries, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

Getting too caught up in a relationship hadn’t been an issue since you’d had Theo, but before him, there was a reason why all your friends accused you of being a romantic. When you fell in love, you didn’t even think about the possibility of a break up but—

You really should have.

“Logan?”

Logan looked down at you, running his fingertips over your spine while you played with the dog tags around his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I have a question but you need to promise me you’ll be honest.”

A rumble of a chuckle vibrated in his chest, making you bite back a smile as you looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest.

“The last time you made me promise that, you ended up asking me what animal I thought I could beat in a fight.”

“That was for science.”

“How?”

“In case one day we decide to go on a safari and end up getting stranded in there.”

“That’s a possibility?”

“You can’t be too careful,” you said. “I’m used to thinking about every scenario—anyway, this is another question.”

“I’m listening.”

“So you have the super strength and all that…”

“Yeah.”

“What supernatural creature do you think you could take down in a fight?”

Logan blinked a couple of times. “That’s the question you want me to answer honestly?”

“Could you take down a werewolf?”

“We’re actually talking about this,” Logan muttered to himself. “Okay.”

“A werewolf,” you insisted. “Could you take down a werewolf?”

 He took a deep breath, then shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t think it’d be that difficult to take down a werewolf,” he stated and you hummed.

“A little cocky, but I’ll let it slide,” you said, laying your head on his chest again. “A vampire.”

“Please, vampires are lame,” he said with a grimace. “I could definitely take down a vampire, are you kidding?”

“You sound so sure of yourself that I’m half-tempted to ask if you’ve ever taken down a vampire.”

He let out a chuckle. “I’m not going to be beaten by a creature that can’t survive in the sunlight even if it’s hypothetical.”

“They are pretty powerful.”

“To repeat, they burn in sunlight. Doesn’t sound powerful to me.”

You clicked your tongue.

“How about a zombie?” you asked. “Could you take down a zombie?”

“Those things fall apart anyway, shouldn’t be difficult.”

“What if it’s a herd?”

“Same logic.”

“You’re telling me you could take down one hundred zombies?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

You hid your yawn behind your hand. “Um, mermaids.”

“Mermaids aren’t even scary.”

“No, not that type of—like those in Pirates of the Caribbean, have you watched that?”

“No.”

“I’ll put that on the list. It’s like—it’s like sirens, they lure you to the sea and then drown you.”

He paused for a moment, then hummed.

“Yeah, I think a mermaid could take me down.”  

“Really?”

“I’m not good with water.”

“Can you swim?”

“I can swim but if I try to stay still in the water I sink,” he said slowly. “Because of the skeleton. And like I said, I’m not good with water.”

Something in his voice sounded distant so you decided not to push him. You were way too sleepy for a big conversation anyway, and you didn’t want to force him to talk about anything he didn’t want to talk about. Heaving a sigh, you nuzzled closer to him and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head.

“How about you?” he asked. “What supernatural creature could you take down in a fight?”

“Do you know any creatures you can disarm with the power of speech?” you asked, making him let out a laugh.

“Not really.”

“I mean I think I’d have a better chance surviving a vampire than a werewolf,” you murmured, your voice already drowsy. “Werewolves have fewer weaknesses I think, and yes vampires can hunt you down but only in night time. Well, werewolves can only hunt you down during the full moon, there’s that but I feel like as far as supernatural creatures go…”

You didn’t even realize you were falling asleep.

Until a soaring pain pulled you out of it.

A scream left your lips as your eyes snapped open, your hand shooting to your other arm to grab at it. You sat up straighter in the bed, now realizing Logan was also awake and upright in bed, breathing hard and unsheathing his claws. Your name spilled from his lips in a whisper as you looked down at your arm, the blood pouring from the open wound, coating your hand and the sheets in red.

“I’m fine—” you managed to say breathlessly while Logan stared at you, complete terror in his eyes. “I’m fine it’s just…um—”

“Let me see,” he said in a low voice and you tried to blink back the tears with a grimace. Logan carefully lifted your arm, letting you see the three gashes through all the blood under the dim light of the moon coming from the window.

Shit.

“You need stitches,” Logan muttered as he grabbed his jeans to put them on. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“Stitches?” you repeated, looking down at your arm. “Are you sure?”

“Those are deep cuts,” his voice sounded a little distant again and you couldn’t tell it was because of the blood loss you were currently suffering from. He bunched up his white shirt to press it against the wound, making you hiss in a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he swallowed thickly. “I’m so sorry.”

“What—no, it’s fine!” you said in a haste, trying to focus through the fire burning your arm. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.”

“Logan—” you started but he went to grab your sweater off the chair at the corner of the room, then made his way back to you. He helped you get into it, then into your jeans while you held onto his shoulder trying to move your arm as little as possible.

“I can carry you—”

“Logan, it’s just my arm,” you assured him with a huff of a laughter. “I can walk. It’s totally fine.”

A shadow crossed his eyes, his jaw clenching tight.

“Right,” he muttered through his teeth. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

                                               *

You really, really hated hospitals. As a child, you were quite the troublemaker so you’d had your fair share of hospital visits, and each and every time was quite painful. Even now, as a grown up, you couldn’t help but feel tense whenever you had to go to hospitals.

And Theo’s very scary birth hadn’t helped the situation.

But if anything, this really wasn’t a big deal. A couple of stitches and you would be fine, but Logan looked much more tense than you were. He was completely quiet and withdrawn, standing in the corner of the hospital room like a guard dog while the doctor worked on your arm.

“So how did you get this, exactly?” she asked and you tried to smile at her.

“Oh, uh…I work in a diner,” you said. “And as it turns out, night shift and sharp objects aren’t a good combo.”

“I’d bet,” she said as she pulled back to look at the stitches, then took off her latex gloves. “Well the good news is, it’s a very clean cut so it’ll be much easier to heal. Keep it dry the first day, and after tomorrow you can wash around it with clean water twice a day.”

“Okay.”

“Take the antibiotics, apply the cream I prescribed and…well, be careful around knives?” she said with an assuring smile and you let out a small laugh.

“Noted. Thank you so much, doctor.”

“Have a nice night,” she said and walked past the cubicle curtain. You let out a breath, feeling around the gauze before lifting your head to smile at Logan.

“Hey,” you said. “You okay?”

For some reason, Logan couldn’t hold your gaze like he usually would, so instead he stole a look at you before fixing his gaze on the floor and nodded.

“Sure.”

“You don’t like hospitals either huh?” you asked, “I mean if I hate the smell, I can’t imagine how you feel with those enhanced senses of yours.”

Logan didn’t answer, instead he rushed to help you when you grabbed your coat so that you could put it on.

“Thanks,” you said and he pulled his hands back as if he could burn you if he kept them on you a second longer than he needed to. You pulled your brows together, but didn’t comment on it as you started walking beside him to get out of the building.

You didn’t really do well with quiet so the music coming from the radio and your nonsense chatter were the only things filling the silence in the car. Logan met your questions with occasional grunts to signal that he was listening and at best you got curt, one-word answers.

It was only when you walked into your apartment and Logan followed you like a quiet guardian that you turned to him, putting your hand on your hip.

“Logan.”

He closed the door behind him. “Hm?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I can talk until the sunrise but this is becoming a one-way street,” you told him. “Are you okay?”

He blinked a couple of times as if he couldn’t believe you were asking him that.

“Are you?” he asked back after a beat and you shrugged your shoulder.

“It’s not the first time I’m getting stitches,” you said. “And to be completely honest with you, after childbirth everything else they do to you in a hospital kind of pales in comparison. I’m fine.”

He snorted, then clicked her tongue. “Sure.”

“No seriously, it’s just stitches,” you said, walking to the kitchen to fill yourself a glass of water. “And you heard what the doctor said, it’ll heal pretty easily.”

You popped the painkillers in your mouth, then downed them with water before putting the glass back on the counter, then walked back to the hallway.

“If I go to sleep right now, I think I can survive on three cups of coffee instead of four tomorrow,” you joked with a grin, but he couldn’t even smile back, he just followed you to the bedroom. After helping you get into a comfortable oversized shirt, he took a step back as you sat down on the bed. You frowned, tilting your head.

“Are you coming?” you asked, motioning at the bed and Logan shook his head.

“No,” he said, his voice deep. Your frown deepened.

“What?”

“I should uh—” he motioned at the living room. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I’d still hear if you needed anything at night and it’d be safer.”

“Safer?” you repeated. “Logan, come on.”

“I can’t risk another nightmare and you ending up with…” he nodded at your arm and you scoffed a laugh.

“That won’t happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

Alright, this was strange.

Logan was never this curt with you. He wasn’t the most open person in the world, yes, but whenever he spoke to you, his voice would always be warm, melting your insides. Now he sounded way too distant, way too controlled.

You might as well have been speaking to a robot.

“Why are you punishing yourself right now?” you asked, looking him in the eye and something in his gaze shifted before his jaw clenched again, then he shook his head.

“Call my name if you need anything,” he said, walking out of the bedroom and you blinked a couple of times in confusion. A sigh left your lips and you rubbed at your eyes, then slowly lay down on the bed, grimacing when a sudden spark of pain shot through your arm. You put your pillow under your arm, then grabbed Logan’s pillow to bury your face into it, the pleasant smell of his cologne soothing your senses before sleep creeped up on you, pulling you into its warmth.

                                                 *

 When you woke up, you were still groggy and your arm was throbbing. A grimace twisted your face and you took a deep breath, then pulled yourself up to sit up in the bed, and looked down at your arm, feeling around the gauze. It wasn’t extremely painful, but it still made sure to let you know it was there so you had a feeling you were going to have to be extra careful carrying plates at the diner, at least for a while. The delicious smell coming from the kitchen made you turn your head and you nibbled on your lip, then slowly pushed the covers off of you and got up from the bed to make your way to the kitchen.

“Hi stranger,” you said with a grin and Logan looked over his shoulder, then put the grilled cheese sandwich right next to scrambled eggs on the plate.

“Morning.”

“If breakfast is your way of apologizing for not sleeping next to me last night,” you said as he poured you coffee, then placed the cup on the small table next to the plate. “It’s the right path.”

A forced smile twitched the corners of his lips upwards before you sat down, then grabbed the sandwich to take a huge bite.

“Aren’t you eating?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Not really hungry.”

You blinked a couple of times; that was new.

“Logan,” you said, clearing your throat before putting the sandwich down. “I think we should talk about what happened.”

“I agree, but after breakfast.”

You pulled your brows together in confusion, then shrugged with one shoulder before grabbing your coffee cup to take a big sip. Logan’s gaze didn’t leave you as if he was trying to take in the sight of you as much as he could, as if he was trying to burn this- you, this moment- into his mind. The look in his eyes wasn’t distant anymore but worse; it was just haunted. You could feel your stomach doing an unpleasant flip before you tried to shake off the chill running down your spine, then chewed your bite and cleared your throat.

“What time did you wake up?”

Logan shook his head slightly.

“Didn’t sleep.”

“At all?” you asked, gawking at him and he shrugged his shoulder almost nonchalantly.

“It’s fine.”

“Well it’s actually—” you started but were cut off when your phone started ringing in the bedroom.

“One moment,” you said and rushed to the bedroom to grab it off the nightstand, then answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey love,” Stacey’s voice reached you. “Did I wake you up?”

“No no, I was already up,” you said and sat down on the bed. “What’s up?”

“Okay so, the boss is going to kill me, but…”

“Don’t say it.”

“I’ll be late again.”

You let out a small laugh. “Stace.”

“Okay I know what you’re gonna say but this time it’s totally not my fault.”

“No?”

“Well, my body decided to have a hangover after last night, so technically it’s not my fault.”

You hummed. “How much did you drink?”

“Well it was my friend’s birthday and Paul and his friends were at this bar and we decided to go have fun, and then my friend hooked up with Paul so I had to drink a lot to stop myself from visualizing what was going on in the bathroom.”

“I can imagine,” you said. “It’s fine. I’ll cover for you, no worries.”

“Ugh, you’re an angel and I love you.”

“Love you too Stace,” you said with a laugh, then hung up the phone and shook your head before making your way back to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” you told Logan and sat down. “It’s Stacey, you’ve met her.”

“You’re going to work today?” Logan asked. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Oh yeah, it’s totally fine,” you said. “I barely feel it to be honest, and I’ll be careful.”

“But…”

“Besides, I need to cover for Stace,” you said. “Apparently her friend hooked up with Paul—you remember our line cook Paul? He’s kind of a womanizer, I’m kind of surprised she and Paul never had a thing—they sure do flirt a lot but anyway, Stacey’s friend and he hooked up last night and knowing Stacey, she probably drank everyone under the table, and now she has a hangover. Shocking, isn’t it?”

Logan nodded slowly without pulling his gaze off of you.

“Did I tell you about how when Stacey and I first met, I ended up getting black out drunk?” you asked, biting into the grilled cheese sandwich. “It was my first day at the diner, and she convinced me to have a night out with her, and I swear to you, that girl is a goddamn sponge when it comes to alcohol. I was out a couple cocktails in, and she still had numerous shots and cocktails after. Julie was taking care of Theo that night, so I ended up sneaking into my own apartment so that he wouldn’t wake up, and rambled to Julie for like two hours straight about kittens, and then fell asleep watching cat videos.”

A small, sad smile curled Logan’s lips and you smiled back at him, then took another sip of your coffee and put your empty plate into the sink.

“Compliments to the chef,” you said with a grin despite the strange tension almost palpable in the kitchen. “If you ever get tired of going on missions and stuff, you could go into culinary world I feel like.”

He scoffed a laugh and you took a deep breath, then cleared your throat.

“So,” you said. “Can we talk?”

Logan swallowed thickly and nodded his head, his jaw clenching.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened, at all,” you said. “It was an accident. You…you had a nightmare right?”

Logan paused for a moment, then shook his head. “That’s not an excuse.”

“Logan, that’s an accident,” you insisted. “You really shouldn’t blame yourself. I don’t.”

“You should.”

“Well then sucks to be you because I’m not gonna,” you said. “And unless you want to get separate beds like those weird couples in the 1950s, I don’t see how you’re planning on—”

“I think we should break up.”

That managed to shut you up mid-rant. Your eyes snapped up to his and for a couple of seconds, you could only gawk at him in complete silence, your throat getting tighter.

“…What?” you managed to rasp out, your voice lost somewhere in your throat and Logan crossed his arms, leaning his back to the wall.

“It’s going to be safer for you—”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Do you realize what could’ve happened?” he asked back, his voice tense. “We got lucky, if you can even call last night that.”

“Logan, it’s a goddamn scratch!”

“Yeah, this time!” he insisted. “This time it was only a scratch on your arm, what about the next time? What if it wasn’t your arm?”   

“You cannot be serious,” you said, blinking back the tears as you shook your head. “You can’t.”

“I’m not going to have your blood on my hands,” he said, his eyes locked in yours. “I can’t hurt you. Not…not you. I was so wrapped up in this that I forgot how dangerous I could be for you—”

You let out a breath, running a hand over your face. “Don’t give me that speech again.”

“I’m not talking about some silly heartbreak,” Logan told you through his teeth. “I’m talking about life and death. You might see it as nothing, but we both know that it’s not nothing.”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm and sniffled, blinking back the tears again.

“I told you, I’m going to be the one who decides whether this relationship is dangerous or not.”

A dry laugh climbed up his throat.

“Do you have any idea what it would do to me if I…” he couldn’t even finish the sentence as if the mere thought was way too painful. “I can’t put you in danger.”

“You’re not putting me in danger,” you insisted. “You can hear my heartbeat, can’t you? You can smell it when I’m scared, when I’m—when I’m nervous. So tell me; last night, was there even a second that I was scared of you? Or this morning? Have I ever been nervous around you because I thought I was in danger?”

That made him pause for a moment before he shook his head. “No.”

“There you go. There’s your answer to your moral predicament.”

“That makes it even worse,” he rasped out and you frowned.

“How?”

“Because now it falls on me to do it,” he said. “And I can’t even fucking convince myself that you want it.”

You sniffled, shaking your head.

“Don’t do this,” your voice was a low whisper. “Please don’t do this.”

He stared at you, the look in his eyes so painful that for a moment it made you think you were somehow tormenting him with mere words before he clenched his teeth and stepped closer to you so that he could carefully wrap his arm around your waist. He moved slow as if he was terrified that he could somehow hurt you just by touching you and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head as you sniffled, making his grip around your waist tighter for only a moment. You could feel him nuzzle into your hair and stay there completely frozen for a couple of seconds, as if he couldn’t bring himself to pull back.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say after a beat and pulled back, then walked out of the kitchen. You heard the front door open before it closed, and as if on cue you fell on your knees, burying your face in your hands.

Then the sobs started.

11 - Blast

[cherry-pop-elf]

Kiss It Better

Curly (mouthwashing) x reader

AN: No one asked for this but CURLY DESERVED BETTER-!

Sum: You were taking care of Curly, your partner, when you just had to ask him a question that was burning you as much alive as the cockpit burned him. Did he actually crash the ship?

Warnings: 18+, gore, medical situations, Jimmy, violence, just mouthwashing in general, ablism, lots of medical stuff (from someone that knows way to much about medical shit because of being in and out of the hospital all her life)

“Morning honey.” You would force yourself to smile. You had to. You had to for him. To give him hope like he always gave you. To be a little bit of real sunshine through the day. Just wanted to take care of him. Give Anya some kind of break.

A wheeze was your greeting.

Wasn’t like it was his fault. He couldn’t really speak right now. You wondered if he would ever speak again. You would miss his voice but it’s worth it for him to live. He will live, you knew he would. You would make sure of it.

“Let’s have a look at you.” You would grab the clipboard that Anya left for you and took a look over. The small little list to help you understand how to care for his issues. When to wash him, what time his medications were, whatever routine was needed for that day. Was your Bible so to speak. You followed it to the last ink splotch.

“Your bandages don’t look to need to be changed yet, your IV bag needs to be changed, I’ll check your catheter, and yada yada yada. Wanna try and swallow today? Maybe if you can swallow some water I can grind up the pain pills into powder for you. Wanna try?”

He gave two distinct blinks for yes.

“Wonderful. Let me do this routine, so you can mentally prepare.” You would explain, as you went to slip on the latex gloves. Didn’t want to risk transferring some kind of infection. He’s already fighting for his life as it is. No need to make it harder.

You would first change out his IV bag, since he needed to stay as hydrated and fed nutrients as possible, before working on the awkward catheter. Luckily Anya made it very easy to use. She had opted for a condom catheter since she didn’t want to put himself at anymore risk to infections, and pain, as possible. Seemed the trauma made it rather impossible to control his bowls anyway so it worked out. All you had to do was drain the bag, wash it, and reattach it to the side of the table. Wasn’t like he was going to be moving around much anyway.

“So Daisuke was showing me his gameboy. Teaching me about how the lore works and all that. I really had no idea what he was talking about, but it’s better than Swansea snoring.” You laughed, and did your best to keep yourself peppy. To help Curly feel somewhat involved with society. To not just be trapped in the med bay alone. Daisuke and Swansea would visit, and Anya did what she could medically, but sometimes you just need someone to talk to.

“Think it’s a rouge like game. That’s nice. Helps keep you entertained with wanting to break through more and more dungeons in one session.” You rambled, before reattaching the bag. Had you sigh in relief to see you didn’t mess up the chord. Some urine had already started to fill the bag. Must have been triggered by the new IV. Good good. Everything was correct.

“You ready?” You asked, as this was always the hardest part. Getting medication in him. Anya would do her best but you couldn’t blame her for struggling. It’s such a mental tax to try and take care of someone but it results in more pain. You were willing to take that burden. You were his partner after all. You felt it’s only fair you take care of him. Gave Anya some breathing room to actually care for herself. She deserved to take care of herself to.

With two clear blinks you would get to work.

You would slip your hand under his back, and forced him to sit up. He groaned in pain, and tried his best to keep his head upright, as you two tried to work together. To survive this. To try and fight through.

“You are doing so well.” You reassured, as your brought the water bottle up to his open mouth. He was able to let his head hang back, and did what he could to open his throat. Was awkward, but he managed to do it. He took a proper swallow of water. You could hardly hide your excitement.

“You did it! Oh my god you did it!” You couldn’t help but kiss his cheek. It hurt, of course, but he very much felt it was worth it. He had his own pride in being able to do some kind of basic human function again.

You would lay him back down, and was quick to grind up medication to put in the water bottle. You couldn’t wait to tell Anya his progress. You were positive the rest of the crew would be happy to hear the progress.

Well…..Most of the crew.

You used your anger towards Jimmy to help you grind the pain killers into powder. Oh how you hated him. You knew deep down he was responsible for the crash. You knew he was. You weren’t sure why he would be, but you just knew that Curly would never. If he had to, for whatever reason, he would have come on to the intercom to inform everyone to prepare for a crash. He would have done something. Anything.

What purpose would there be in crashing the ship?

Jimmy was his copilot. He would be the only other person to have access to the cockpit. He had to have been involved somehow. There had to have been something going on. You just knew it.

You just wish you had proof.

You sighed, as you would shake up the powder in the bottle. Made sure it was fully dissolved to avoid any issues with it going down his throat.

You just couldn’t understand.

Why would Jimmy crash the ship?

You would return back to curly, and do the same routine again. Slow, and small, drips into his throat. Would take a while, and would make your arm beg for death, but this would make life easier for Curly. That’s all that mattered. A arm cramp is worth it to help Curly survive.

“Curly…..Since you are more lucid now I….I just gotta ask something.”

The way his eye darted towards you said he knew what you were going to ask. Knew that it’ll be asked. He knew, and he couldn’t help but try and look towards the door. As if afraid someone would walk in.

That had you very concerned.

“…..Jimmy crashed the ship, didn’t he?” You whispered. Tried to be as hush as possible, in case someone did overhear. Was just the slow drips of the water into his dry mouth, and you.

One blink.

Two blinks.

“I fucking knew it.” You gritted your teeth, as you felt stupid to ever even have the slightest doubt that any possible reality there would be that Curly would do such a thing.

“I wish I could ask you why. Do…Do you know why?” You had to ask. You just needed to know. Know if Jimmy was as dangerous as you thought.

One blink.

T-

“How’s the captain doing?”

You would turn your head sharply, and saw Jimmy. Just standing there. God you were terrified how long he had been there. Did he hear what you asked? Didn’t seem so. Jimmy was a very aggressive person. He snapped at the slightest tone shift. If he heard you ask a question like that you wouldn’t be talking now.

“He’s….Alive.” You were caught rather off guard. You didn’t know what to say. You were scared of him. You had to be brave, though. You had a better chance at defending yourself. Curly couldn’t.

You would hear his heavy foot steps come closer, and out right feel his body heat against yours. Just looking over your shoulder. Was like this burning shadow over you. Made you feel like you’ll be squashed like a bug.

“Has he been able to talk yet?”

That’s a weird question to ask. Why not ask how he’s feeling, what progress he’s made, how his vitals are. Why is him talking on the front of his mind?

Because Curly knew something he shouldn’t.

“No. I think he’s lost his voice for good. I don’t think he’s ever going to speak again.” You lied, as you finished the test of the bottle. Returned your partner back on the table, and spun around. Nose to chest to the man. Had you terrified, but you must be brave. For Curly.

“Damn. Rough for him. No more barking orders, huh?” Jimmy tried to joke, but you could only give an awkward laugh at. Mostly to keep from pissing him off.

If he’s willing to crash a ship what else is he willing to do?

“Did you need something?” You managed to force out, as you grabbed the clipboard. Just trying to find an excuse to not look directly at Jimmy. To have a motive as to why you would stay in the med bay longer than most. Just anything to get Jimmy to leave you two alone.

“Hey, I give a shit to about him. Is it criminal to care about my friend?” He snapped at you, and it made you grab your clipboard tighter. You swore he seemed to smirk at seeing you so startled. Like he got off to the idea that he got the captains sweetheart scared.

That he’s the new boss.

“Never said that. You are the co pilot and new captain. You-“ “Pilot now. As if he’s ever going to steer a ship again. Not even a wheelchair with those stumps.” He snorted, as you wanted to smack him across the face.

“Yes….As the new Pilot and Captain I would figure you would be swamped in work. Like finding a way for us to contact help. Kinda the biggest priority after Curly. Anya and I are busy with him. You, Daisuke, and Swansea can handle the rest.”

You noticed how he seemed to roll his eyes about Anya. As if he couldn’t care less about the woman. Made you curious on what kind of beef he would have with her. She’s Anya! Who hated her?

“Yeah. Guess you are right there.” He muttered, as if it was never on his mind. Never an option that they could escape. Oh how you were getting chills.

“Keep on trucken then. Take care of our Captain Cripple. His ass needs all the help his stumpy limbs can get.” He would give him a once over, before looking at you. You made sure to keep your eyes to the clipboard instead. All you did was nod in acknowledgment, before he left.

“What are we going to do, Curly?” You sighed, as you would just lay next to him in defeat. What can you do? You had no idea. Curly was always such a good captain. Made you regret never paying more attention to how he worked the cock pit. Maybe if you did you could be more useful.

As you were full of worry and regret, Curly would weakly try and turn his head. Naked teeth were against his cheek. A attempt to kiss your cheek the best he could.

You smiled at the gesture, and made sure to be careful with snuggling your face into his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, and you got me. We can do this. I know it.” You reassured you both, as you closed your eyes. There to wait until his pain medication kicked in, so he could sleep.

As you relaxed, you couldn’t help but swear something was strange about his breathing.

It was like….He was saying words.

You would focus as hard as you could on your ears, as he would drift in and out of his buzzed state. Fighting to stay awake, but sleep coming for him.

“A….a…n…ya…..Kn….ows……”

Part 2