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prythiansprincess · 3 days ago

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CHAPTER THREE

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🤎 pairing: azriel x reader.

🤎 song inspiration: black out days by phantogram.

🤎 author’s note: happy monday! I hope you all enjoy x

The night before journeying to the Autumn Court, Rhys asked you to meet him at the House of Wind. You were halfway through packing when a knock at the door interrupted your progress. It wasn’t much of a process since your definition of the act consisted of haphazardly throwing the bare essentials into a small rucksack.

Turning your attention to the door, you lifted the wards and beckoned the familiar figure inside. Azriel’s dark hair obscured the setting sun as he stood in the doorway. Since you weren’t keen on making the trek up the ten thousand steps at the House, the High Lord sent the shadowsinger to fetch you. Neither one of you were happy about the arrangement, but you figured that you might as well get used to it since you’d be spending the next month together.

“Are you just going to stand there?” you asked while shoving a heavy cloak into your bag in preparation for the chilly nights at the Autumn Court.

The shadowsinger said nothing as he crossed over the threshold to take in the contents of your flat. It was strange to see him inside of your home. In all the years you’ve known him, Azriel had never set foot in your flat. Since you usually met up with the others at either the House of Wind or the River House, there had never been any reason for the shadowsinger to visit your dwelling. Now that he was standing in the middle of your living room, you could see how empty and unwelcoming the space may seem from his perspective.

The place was hardly furnished and it lacked the warmth of a personal touch. You were away on assignment more often than not so you hadn’t really bothered to decorate. Since your days of exile, the habit of only keeping the absolute necessities remained as a holdover from experiencing life on the run. All you really needed was a working bath, a semi-decent bed, and a kitchen to cook in when the mood struck.

“Is that all you’re bringing?” Azriel asked through the open door of your bedroom.

Just like the rest of your flat, the room was bare and empty. There was a bed and a dresser, but if it weren’t for the growing stack of books piled high on your nightstand, no one would suspect that anyone even lived here.

“I like to pack light,” you replied defensively. “There’s no need to bring anything unnecessary.”

“That much is clear,” Azriel muttered under his breath. He inspected the velvet couch in your living room, which was still in pristine condition. “It looks like you just moved in. Haven't you owned this place for years?”

You rolled your eyes in response. For some reason, the comment brushed you the wrong way. Though you supposed that was nothing new when it came to Azriel.

“My apologies, shadowsinger. Are my interior design capabilities not up to your standards?”

The sarcasm flew over Azriel’s head as he scanned the walls, frowning when he found it devoid of decorations. “It just seems a little barren.”

“It’s a flat, not a palace.” You replied rather sharply. “As long as I have a place to sleep, that’s good enough for me.”

Azriel tutted in disapproval before he weaved his way into the kitchen. You tracked him underneath the archway, his wings tucked tightly behind his back as he picked up the one sentimental item in your possession.

In his hands, the shadowsinger held an enchanted painting of you, Rhys, and Serena. Your friend was smiling with her wings spread proudly while both her and Rhys sandwiched you in between them. In the center, you tipped your head back in laughter. You thought you saw the ghost of a smile forming on Azriel’s lips before you snatched the keepsake out of his hands.

“Don’t touch that,” you reprimanded. “Do me a favor and stop snooping. I’m almost done packing.”

As carefully as you could manage, you set the painting back to its rightful place and ignored the gaze burning into your side. You could practically hear the onslaught of questions that the shadowsinger was dying to ask as you surveyed Serena’s smile. It was that same smile that had saved you all those years ago.

After you left the Autumn Court, you were forced to roam through Prythian alone. At first, you were able to scrape by working odd jobs as a barmaid or innkeeper, but with the war waging through the courts, the opportunities dwindled down to nothing.

Driven by desperation, you found yourself foraging for food near the Night Court’s war camps. You came across their supplies and rationalized that they wouldn’t miss an apple or two. You’ve always been quick and stealthy, but Serena had the advantage of her wings. She spotted you almost immediately, but instead of turning you over to her father, Serena took you to her mother and brother. With Rhysand’s help, they offered you a place in the camps. A refuge from your exiled existence.

With Rhys and Serena, you weren’t a Thorne. You weren’t a young acolyte fleeing from her future as the Autumn Court’s next High Priestess. You weren’t the weapon that Beron honed you into.

You were just you.

You found family in Rhys and Serena. You confided in both of them. You trusted them with the secrets of your past. For a time, the three of you had been inseparable. Then Serena died and the loss of your friend hardened you in a way that couldn’t be undone. Her death solidified what you’ve known all along — everything you touched turned to smoke and ash.

You looked at that smile again, wondering what your friend would say if she knew you were returning to the Forest House. She probably would have insisted on coming along.

Serena was the only one who knew the full extent of the horrors you escaped. The cruelty of the Autumn Court. The familial ties that hounded you. The blood of the fox that took and took until you had nothing left.

You dreaded going back to that wretched place. And yet, the darkness within you, the rage and fury coursing through your veins whispered home, home, home.

When you looked up, you met the shadowsinger’s gaze. There was something brewing within him, though his expression appeared as cold and stoic as it always was. But there — a sharpness in his eyes that strangely resembled recognition. Perturbed by its implication, you broke eye contact.

Azriel regarded you warily as he moved towards the couch. If he noticed that you had momentarily lost yourself in thought, he made no mention of it. The shadowsinger plopped down on the cushions and stretched his long legs atop your coffee table. Shadows peered over his shoulders as though they too were passing judgment on the utter lack of decoration in your flat.

You cleared your throat and marched back into your room to resume packing. If anything, you were just glad to have a door between you and Azriel.

“We should leave before the sun rises. I can winnow us to the edge of the Winter Court, but we’ll have to fly the rest of the way.”

You rifled through your wardrobe, throwing in a few dresses for good measure before slipping out of the smock you were wearing in exchange for something thicker. You needed to layer if you hoped to survive the flight through Kallias and Viviane’s borders.

“Did Rhys tell you where Beron intends to house us?”

A beat of silence passed. You glanced over your shoulder and realized that the bedroom door was cracked open just enough to give Azriel a glimpse of your bare back. You could feel him staring at the giant wings etched upon your skin — a tribute for the ones that Serena lost.

You slammed the door shut, causing Azriel to flinch. After pulling on a sweater, you emerged from the room just as the shadowsinger cleared his throat and picked up the conversation as though you hadn't just caught him staring at you.

“At one of his properties near the Forest House. He’s welcoming us into his borders, but keeping us well away from his home until the Blood Moon.”

You frowned. "That's strange," you murmured under your breath. The Beron you knew was a strong believer in keeping his friends close, but his enemies closer. If he was choosing to house you away from the Forest House, then he truly must be hiding something. "I would've thought that Beron would prefer to keep us under constant watch. My uncle is as paranoid as they come.”

“With good reason,” Azriel added with a slight smirk, “Look who he’s letting into his territory.”

That brightened your mood a notch. You couldn’t wait to rob the bloody bastard blind.

“Fair point,“ you admitted. “Well if you’re done being a busybody, we should head out. Rhys is expecting me.”

As always, Azriel flew in complete silence. You looped your arms around his neck and shut your eyes. Flying was something you had always dreaded and it didn’t help that the shadowsinger dipped and flipped without warning. Those lethal wings of his beat against his back and plummeted you into the air while the wind whipped your scarlet hair into your eyes.

Despite your tight grip, Azriel carried you in his arms with ease while simultaneously maintaining a considerable amount of distance between you. Gods forbid if Azriel held anyone closer than arms-length. It seemed fitting, given the nature of your relationship.

Despite being in the same circle of friends, you and Azriel had never really gotten along. On a good day, you might be persuaded to tolerate each other for a limited amount of time and that was only if one of you managed to keep the hostility to the bare minimum. Rhys liked to say that mutual stubbornness was the cause of the clash, but in reality, something about Azriel has always unnerved you.

What he lacked in words, he more than made up for with astute observation. Even without the help of his shadows, Azriel was extremely perceptive. He picked up on things most people wouldn’t notice. For someone who spent her entire life not wanting to be seen or known, the shadowsinger’s attentiveness was perturbing.

You could feel his scrutinizing gaze on you even now as he examined the expression on your face with calculated caution. You tilted your chin up and stared right back into those hazel eyes of his.

“What?” you challenged. “Do I have something on my face?”

Azriel ignored the question and jumped straight to the point. There was no beating around the bush with the shadowsinger. “The tattoo on your back. They’re Serena’s wings, aren’t they?”

Everything within you stilled. You stiffened in Azriel’s arms and looked away from him, which was a mistake in itself since there was nothing but the terrifying open sky to be seen from this height. You couldn’t tell whether it was your fear of flying or the subject of your friend that suddenly caused your chest to tighten.

You never really talked about Serena with anyone other than Rhys. A part of you knew you should, at least to keep her memory alive, but it still hurt to speak of your late friend even to this day. It would never stop hurting.

“So you were watching me undress,” you accused, shifting the topic of conversation. “Can’t say I’m surprised that you’re into voyeurism.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “It’s pretty hard to miss,” the shadowsinger said with a shrug. He paused as his gaze slid over to you once more. Softly, he added, “I’d almost forgotten how beautiful they were. How beautiful she was.”

Your heart twisted in your chest. Sometimes you forgot that Serena had been his friend just as much as she was yours. The shadowsinger had served Rhysand’s father for years and lived under the same roof as her. She always considered Azriel and Cassian as her brothers and she used to tease you endlessly about your rivalry with Azriel.

The line between love and hate is thinner than you think, your friend would state with a knowing smile. No matter how much you tried to convince her otherwise. Once Serena set her mind on something, there was no talking her out of it.

While Serena was right most of the time, she couldn’t have been more wrong about you and Azriel. There was nothing between you but hostility and disdain. The only thing you had in common was your friendship with her. It seemed rather odd to you that the two of you could love the same person, but hate one another.

With a forlorn expression, Azriel set you down on the balcony of the House of Wind. “It looks good on you,” he declared softly.

You stared at each other for a moment before you cleared your throat and broke off the intense eye contact.

“I should go. Rhys is waiting for me,” you said. Azriel nodded in confirmation. “I’ll see you at dawn, then.”

“I have to reconvene with my contacts in Rask to make sure things are in order during my absence, but I’ll be back before we’re due to depart.”

You involuntarily flinched at the mention of one of the most powerful kingdoms in the Continent. A kingdom who allied with Hybern.

Azriel noted the reaction. “Try not to miss me too much, princess. I’ll be back before you know it.”

The shadowsinger grinned as you rolled your eyes at the comment. Not bothering to respond, you spun on your heel and threw Azriel a vulgar gesture over your shoulder.

As you ascended the stairs, his dark laughter followed after you like a shadow.

The bloodstone hanging between your shoulder blades gleamed as you tugged on the chain absentmindedly, your focus shifting in and out as Rhysand’s voice floated through the room. His tone took on the form of a question and snapped you back to the present.

Am I boring you? Rhys asked as he prodded through your mental shields. You frowned in response and clamped down the ruby gates within your mind.

The High Lord winced as you flashed him a feral smile. “You were saying?”

For the past hour, Rhys had drilled you on the plan until you were certain that you could recite the entire thing in your sleep. First, you were to winnow to the Winter Court. After that, Azriel would fly the rest of the way to the borders of the Autumn Court where you would both meet Beron’s welcoming party at the designated spot. From there, you’d be taken to the Forest House and formally presented to the High Lord.

“How are you faring with all of this?”

“Fine,” was your customary response. Rhysand raised a knowing brow. This wasn’t just an ordinary mission and you both knew it. “I can handle it.”

“I know you can,” your friend said with a tinge of worry. “But asking you to go back to that place is not something I take lightly. I wouldn’t have brought this to you if I hadn’t already exhausted all our other options.”

Violet eyes met yours and your demeanor softened. Rhysand rarely asked anything of you. Most of the time, you were the one volunteering to go on dangerous missions, much to his apprehension.

“I know and I appreciate it.” You offered your friend a reassuring smile. “But you don’t have to worry about me, Rhys.”

“I do so regardless.” He gazed through the glass window panes with a wistful expression. “You know, she would kick my ass if she knew what I was asking you to do.”

Rhysand didn’t have to say her name. You both knew he was speaking of Serena.

You chuckled. “Knowing her, she would probably have insisted on coming with me.” A smile bloomed on your lips at the thought. “It would’ve been a sight, wouldn’t it? I’d pay to see her lay into Beron.”

You exchanged a forlorn glance. Both of you would have paid all the damn gold in the Night Court’s coffers to see Serena do anything again.

“For her sake and mine, please be careful.” Your friend said in a serious tone. “I know you’re not thrilled to have Azriel accompanying you, but you will need each other.”

“I highly doubt that,” you muttered under your breath.

Rhysand gave you a look of disapproval and you responded with a dramatic eye roll, throwing your hands up in surrender. “Fine, I suppose I can tolerate the overgrown bat for a few days. At the very least, the shadowsinger can tether me if things get out of hand.”

At the mention of tethering, Rhys blanched. You knew that you probably shouldn’t joke about such things. Unleashing your true form was dangerous enough, but setting your power loose in the Forest House meant that someone would have to snap the thread in case your flames gained control over you rather than the other way around.

You had only ever come close to being tethered once, after Serena’s death. You lost control that day, drowning the bog of Oorid in smoke and ash while you raged to taste the blood of the Spring Court lord and his sons. It took Rhysand nearly half his strength to break into your mind and render you unconscious, which effectively broke the connection and stopped you from laying waste to the desolate swamp.

If Rhys had been unsuccessful, the only alternative was to shatter the thread which would have killed you in the process.

“I’m joking, Rhys. It won’t come to that.” He ran a hand over his face, clearly exhausted from his duties. It probably wasn’t wise to add onto his extensive list of worries. “I’ll be careful.”

He sighed in relief. “Are you and Azriel set to depart tomorrow?”

You nodded in confirmation. “Yes, he said he’d be returning from Rask before dawn.” Your gaze shifted to your friend. “Trouble in the Continent?”

“Quite the contrary. It seems congratulations are in order. The King of Rask plans on crowning his heir.”

“May the gods be with the young prince.” The declaration filled you with dread and tasted like ash in your mouth. “With Xilas as a father, Cauldron knows the boy will need it.”

“The King is a nasty piece of work.” Rhys said in agreement. You didn’t miss the sidelong glance he cast your way. “He hasn’t tried to reach out to you, has he?”

You scoffed. “His Royal Highness has no interest in his illegitimate offspring. Xilas made that very clear the day he left my mother.”

“I’m sorry to even bring it up. I just wondered. The coronation may be in the works, but rumor has it that the young prince did not inherit his father’s powers.”

The pointed look Rhys sent your way was deflected by a nonchalant shrug. “Regardless, he is the heir to the throne. The only heir,” you added with a tone of finality.

The High Lord nodded slowly, but kept his gaze leveled on you. “Do the others know? About the King?”

Rhys shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell. If and when you are ready to tell them, I will support you.”

The day would likely never come. You were content on being known for who you are now, not for some meaningless title passed down from a father who couldn’t even be bothered to care about your existence.

“Thank you, Rhys.” You nodded towards the darkening horizon outside. “If that’s all, I’m going to turn in early. Give Feyre and Nyx my regards. I heard the little Illyrian is teething, so you should probably relieve my High Lady soon.”

Rhys chuckled. “You have no idea. She’s calling in reinforcements as we speak.”

You grinned. “Don’t let me hold you up, then.”

You and Rhysand exchanged goodbyes with the High Lord ruffling your hair and making you promise to be careful just like he did back when you and Serena used to sneak out and get into all sorts of mischief in the city.

You paused in the doorway. “Do you ever talk about her? With Feyre or any of the others? With Nyx?”

Rhys looked at you for a long time, stars winking in his eyes. “No, but I should.”

He turned to meet your gaze. “We both should.”

The High Lord of the Night Court found himself in the heart of the Western Isles.

Despite his desire to return home to his High Lady and their teething toddler, Rhysand had urgent business to attend to first.

He watched as the waves of the pewter sea crashed violently against the brutal cliffs of the rocky mountain island. Above the misty peak, the Prison stood menacingly against the dreary backdrop.

“I’m aware that you have a reputation to uphold, but this is a bit overkill, don’t you think?”

A flash of scarlet glimmered in the High Lord’s periphery. Rhysand remained silent and stoic as stone while Eris Vanserra slid into place beside him.

“Always a pleasure, Eris.”

The Autumn Court male snorted. “I may not be a daemati, but being a Vanserra has made me an expert in spotting insincerity and you’d rival my father in your capacity for drivel.” Rhys almost smiled at that. “Why are we here, Rhysand?”

“Is everything according to plan?”

“Would I be here if it wasn’t?” The High Lord leveled a hard stare at the redhead and Eris sighed in response. “Beron has ensured safe entry for my dear cousin and the shadowsinger. After all, Autumn Court law requires him to honor the rite. My father would not dare trample the traditions of our land.”

The tension lifted from Rhysand’s shoulders. As much as he detested placing his trust in Beron, he knew the male would not be foolish enough to break the customs of his ancestors. Violating the ancient rite was punishable by death. No one was exempt from the provision — not even a High Lord.

It was the only way Rhysand could protect Y/N. Though it didn’t fully alleviate his worries, it at least provided him some sort of assurance.

“And Xilas?”

It was the Autumn lordling’s turn to frown. “I have stalled his correspondences for the meantime, but it’s only a matter of time before he makes contact with my father.” Cunning eyes scanned the gloomy horizon and a flash of brooding marred the eldest Vanserra’s fox-like features. “Does she know about the coronation?”

Rhysand nodded. “She’s aware. I tried to broach the subject, but she has made it clear on multiple occasions that she’s not interested in the affairs of the kingdom.”

“Be that as it may, but the kingdom is interested in her.”

“She’s been through enough.”

“And yet you’re sending her back into the Autumn Court blindly,” Eris said with a hint of bitterness. “This arrangement may protect her from Beron, but she cannot avoid the matter of her birthright forever. Perhaps it would be best to inform my dear cousin of the plan.”

“You lost the right to claim her as family the minute you allowed her to wander through Prythian starving and alone,” Rhys snapped. “I am doing what you failed to do centuries ago. I’m protecting her.”

Ire flashed behind that burning gaze. Eris seemed inclined to argue, but thought better of it and settled for a sneer instead. “Awfully convenient that I’m the one who will bear the brunt of her wrath once she finds out about your twisted little plan of protection. She will be furious with your deception. As will the shadowsinger.”

“Azriel will do what is necessary.”

In that, he had no doubt. As much as he hated keeping both of you in the dark, he knew it was the only option. Azriel would be angry, but his brother would understand. He just hoped that Y/N would too.

“You may judge my methods, but all that I do, I do for the sake of my loved ones. That is what we do in the Night Court. We protect our families.”

“Grand and noble Rhysand,” Eris sneered. “Has it ever occurred to you that you’re not the only one with a family to protect?” Rhysand faltered at that.

The High Lord examined the eldest Vanserra — the heir of the Autumn Court who possessed deadly wit and an even more lethal hand. Rhys could see the poised, pompous, and arrogant male who pranced about Prythian as though the realm owed him a great debt for merely existing, but underneath that carefully crafted exterior, he thought he was a glimpse of Eris.

The male who had risked his life to ally with the Night Court, to rebel against his father, to protect his mother, to keep his brothers in line, to rally the troops of the Autumn Court during their fight with Hybern. Rhysand thought that maybe, maybe, they weren’t as different as he had always led himself to believe.

But that glimpse had only been afforded to him momentarily. Once again, the cool mask of Eris Vanserra clicked into place as his amber eyes hardened on the horizon.

“The next month will be eventful to say the least,” Eris conceded with a sigh. “But I suppose it isn’t a Vanserra family reunion without lies, schemes, and betrayal. At least my cousin’s arrival will rouse some drama and intrigue in the fox’s den. I dare say it’s gotten a bit dull with only the threat of death gods and war.”

Rhysand’s lips curled a little at that. The Autumn lordling sighed. “Are you sure keeping this from them is the best idea?”

“It’s safer if they don’t know,” he replied. “Not yet, anyways.”

“She will be furious,” Eris whispered. He didn’t have to say the words that Rhys had spent pondering during the past few weeks.

She will never forgive you.

The High Lord knew that Eris, of all people, understood what that felt like.

“Better angry and safe than informed and dead.” The High Lord repeated the phrase almost mechanically, the words falling seamlessly from his lips as he recited them over and over again to himself, though it did nothing alleviate the worry and fear he felt. “She’ll understand. She always does.”

The words caught in his throat. You would be furious with him, Rhys knew that. But it was a risk he was willing to take if it meant keeping you safe.

I will not lose another sister.

Rhys had meant what he said. This plan had to work. It had to, because he didn’t know what he would do if it didn’t.

Right now, standing on the rocky shores of the Western Isles, it wasn’t the High Lord who slipped his trembling hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers.

It was a brother who prayed that his sister would forgive him for what he was about to do.

TAGLIST

@fuckingsimp4azriel @onebadassunicorn-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @marina468

#we're getting into the lore and backstory now #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel spymaster

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tanglepelt · 1 year ago

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Dc x dp idea 134

Danny does not like leaving amity. When he’s not there he is in a stressed and anxious state. He knows he can run to the ghost zone in amity.

Everywhere else. Yea. The government can legally dissect him and he wouldn’t have easy access to safety. So no. No thank you. He will very much not go anywhere else.

Then of course a field trip happens.

Dannys forced to go. Lines like maybe you’ll see an alien. Their hero’s it’s perfectly safe. From the minute he gets there he is beyond stressed and on edge.

Then they go to the watchtower. They were so lucky they got the opportunity (heros definitely not just trying to see what’s up with amity discreetly after finding firewalls blocking info).

He is not discretely hiding it at all. Hovering by doors. Definitely not plotting if he could escape into the vacuum of space. Thinking about all the times the government tried to kill him. The sun wouldn’t kill him right? He could escape to the sun. Or how legally the league would have to turn him in. Like they work with the government. Just pure panic thoughts.

He is absolutely not thinking of every scenario that could happen. Definitely not spiraling the longer they are there.

It’s not like anyone could tell.

Everyone could tell. And with the panic as bad as it was. Well they did have a couple mind readers.

#dpxdc #dpxdc prompt #Danny is a nervous wreck #not in the scared way #but the way when you keep track of doorways #prepared for an attack #would flee not fight #like he would respond to them if talked with ease #just not very much #no trust in them #Danny may be so panicked that the thoughts are too much to ignore #he is spiraling #amity was hidden #to keep the leauge out of it #someone found the firewall #best place to start. kids #most liked heros.#amity Parker’s have mixed feelings

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iiiiiiis-things · 6 months ago

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idk just thinking about how you burst into your home damn near slamming the door shut, only for toji to stop it with the large palm of his hand before he smoothly walks in behind you. you're on 10 right now, stomping and shouting around the house (while your husband follows like a lost puppy) until you make your way to the kitchen yelling something about how it was "totally unnecessary to punch him" honestly toji didn't even know what the hell you were going on about, i mean he wasn't even listening. he silently convinced himself that it wasn't his fault- no it was definitely yours that he couldn't focus on the sweetness of your voice. i mean he just couldn't stop himself from trailing his eyes down to your ass, sinfully watching from his stance at the doorway as it jiggled with each hard step you took. "you can't keep doing this shit man-" your words go in one ear and out the other, again wasn't his fault, he can't help but think about is how fucking sexy you look right now. lace tussled into a slight mess, lip gloss smeared across your puffy lips because of how much you opened your fat ass mouth out of anger, and that dress ? oh that dress is what gotten you in the situation in the first place, the way it hugged your frame perfectly, mapping out each of your curves in all the right ways. had you not wore it like he told you to he wouldn't have had to beat his boss ass for staring at you a little to long. lashes that had been ripped off are still in his car, sitting prettily right on his dashboard, he couldn't care less in fact he was glad you took em off ecstatic even, toji loved to see you natural, toji thought you were so god damn fine

"what ?"

...did he say that out loud ?

"nothin'" he muffled out "are you even listening? see this the shit i'm talking about-"

toji wanted nothing more than to bend you over the kitchen island and shut your big ass mouth with each deep stroke he gave you, dick hitting deep in that gummy area that always turned you into mush whenever he found it, but alas he didn't, he knew you were angry, just didn't know why. aren't you glad he protected you from the preying eyes of his boss ? did it cost him his job ? maybe.. but it doesn't matter because it was all for you, his lovely wife. "here asshole" toji finally snapped out of his head when he felt you shove something against his chest before walking off. noodles ... you made him-

"a cup of noodles ?" he questioned following you out the kitchen "you didn't eat at the party." the scar on his pretty lips decided to rise. oh how sweet you were, even after being so pissed at his possessiveness you still cared enough to make sure he ate before the night was over but there was still one problem.. "you didn't either" "i'm not hungry." once you reach the bottom of the stairs he stops dead in his tracks "baby- where you going ?" "to bed." no hug ? no kiss goodnight ? no invite ? oh he fucked up.

smut! under the cut (18+)

"now do you forgive me?" voice comes muffled from beneath you as you ride out your nth climax of the night your husband had been sucking and licking into you for hours drawing out orgasm after orgasm. and shit were you ovulating? because you just can't get enough. "fuck" you roll you head back in pleasure riding the sweet sensation of his nose repeatedly brushing against your clit

*smack!*

"i asked you a question mama" you moan loudly at the combination of the nickname and his tongue thrusting in and out of you hitting that special spot each time. "y-yes baby" you grind down to match the rhythm of his tongue as he begins to play with the fat of your ass tugging and gripping tightly, encouraging you to move your hips faster "'m sorry baby, so so sorry" his lips wrap around your rednend clit while he stuffs two fingers into you. at this point you were so overstimulated but you just couldn't stop riding his face even if the world was ending. bringing a hand to his hair you push it back unveiling those gorgeous green eyes. toji looks up making eye contact with you, you begin feeling the tension that was building up about to finally burst (again) "i didn't mean to upset you" he wraps his fore arms around your things getting you to grind down even harder against his perfectly fat nose "i-it's okay toj- fuck you're so deep" "i just don't like when other boys stare at you" he couldn't even bring himself to call his boss a man. a man would never violate a women's privacy like that, basically eye fucking her while she's out with her man. you felt everything, every touch, and god you were so hot, moans were leaving your mouth left and right as you felt him continue sucking, his fingers thrusting into you so desperately as if they were asking for forgiveness too.

this was gonna be a longggg night .

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gothgoblinbabe · 5 months ago

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Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Warnings: ( MDNI 18+) neighbor!reader,fem reader, Logan’s kinda rude for a lil’ bit, neighbors to frenemies to lovers? Idk, alcohol consumption (nothing 18+ happens while anyone is intoxicated), swearing, i can’t write Wade’s witty dialogue for shit pls bear w me, implied age gap, unprotected sex (wrap it up I beg of you), poking fun at the Kardashians a little, swearing and I think that’s it, but pls lmk if I missed any!

Summary: You have a little too much to drink one night in Wade's living room, resulting in an indirect confession that Logan absolutely hears through the thin drywall of his bedroom. Wade then ditches your usual weekend plans in an attempt at playing cupid - and it may just be the best favor he's ever done for you.

Word Count: 8K (get comfy bitch)

divider credit here and here

Being Wade Wilson’s best friend and neighbor included two main components:

Watching trash TV and getting drunk every other weekend - usually at the same time - and Wade wasn’t going to let his new roommate's attitude ruin it in the slightest.

“She’s gonna be here any minute and if you don’t pull the stick out of your ass and be nice, I'm going to lock you in your room like a sad, lonely dog.”

Logan only grunted in response, sipping his drink in the doorway and watching him run around the living room to make the place look livable.

He’d only moved in a couple weeks ago and Wade had been trying to introduce you both - inviting you over when he knew Logan had no plans - but every time, he was out the door before you were even opening yours across the hall. He’d try everything he could to avoid meeting new people, fearful that any type of real connection with someone would be ripped out from under him just like it had been many times before.

Wade huffed in satisfaction when he was done moving a few things around, standing in front of Logan with his hands on his hips.

“I mean it, kitty cat. She’s a sweet girl - keep the claws in.”

“Told you to stop callin’ me that.”

“Too bad, so sad, kitty.”

As Logan was considering puncturing three evenly spaced holes in both sides of Wade’s chest, they were both interrupted by a knock on the front door.

You were on the other side, of course, a twelve pack of beer under your arm. You rocked back and forth on your heels while you patiently waited for Wade to let you in. You did kind of hope you’d maybe get to meet his new roommate this time - it was a little odd that he was never there when you were.

He answered the door after a second, placing a hand over his heart dramatically when he saw the beer in your arms.

“For me? Aw, sugar, you shouldn't have,” he sighed as he took the box from your arms, ushering you inside.

“Did I have a choice?” you joked back, kicking off your shoes.

You followed him into the living room only to stop in your tracks.

Logan stood near the couch in his sweatpants, looking like he’d been dragged into the middle of the room to be put on display. He did reluctantly agree to stay for a second and finally let him introduce you so he could sulk back to his bedroom and nurse a bottle of whiskey till he fell asleep.

“Well, there he is,” Wade said in a lackluster tone, “now, he is house trained, but he does bite occasionally - “

“Fuck off.”

His deep voice surprised you a bit, unintentionally raising your eyebrows with your gaze still on him.

“ I'm Logan.”

You nodded politely and introduced yourself, shoving your hands in your pockets nervously. He was tall, definitely a good couple years older than you and incredibly handsome, all of which made your stomach erupt into butterflies.

And Logan did not like the way you were looking at him.

He’d seen it more times than he could count on the faces of every pretty young thing that tried to take him home from the bar, batting their eyelashes at him and laying hands on him like it would be persuasive in any way. It never worked, as his dismissive attitude sent a clear message. He couldn’t be bothered to take any of them up on their offers and wasn’t interested in fulfilling some fantasy they had about being with an older man. He didn’t think much about stuff like that anyway, avoiding any chance of vulnerability and attachment to someone he was sure he’d eventually lose.

And you still had that look on your face.

“Night.”

With that, Logan disappeared down the hallway to his room and shut the door.

“He’s not much of a talker,” Wade assured you, “probably for the best.”

From then on, you’d occasionally see Logan come out of his room while you were over - getting something from the kitchen, doing his laundry, coming and going - and each time you had to feign complete disinterest. Wade had quickly taken notice of how you tried to keep your head down every time Logan entered the room to hide your pink cheeks and - naturally - there was no way for him to be quiet about it.

When Logan came out of the bathroom one time with a towel around his waist and dripping wet hair as you and Wade sat at the kitchen island, your best friend was more than eager to run his mouth.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t do that to her!” he exclaimed, gesturing towards you, “you’re practically dangling meat in front of a starving dog - poor girl.”

You had your face buried in your hands with your elbows on the counter, wishing more than anything that you could sink into the chair and through the floor.

“God, shut up.”

Your voice was muffled by your hands but he still heard you.

“And put a stop to my job as cupid?”

Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning towards his bedroom. He’d seen the way your eyes widened the second he’d opened the door, traveling all the way from his bare shoulders to the trail of hair that dipped under the towel. You’d turned pink almost immediately. It would have been something he’d found cute maybe a couple decades ago, before the very last bit of his naivety had faded away. Now, it was just infuriating to him. He could try to drop every hint on earth that he wasn't interested (which for him, just meant avoiding you completely) and you still looked at him like a lovesick schoolgirl.

This weekend came along like every other, texting Wade back and forth about snack options and finally getting up to shuffle across the hall with a bag of chips.

He answered the door as usual, ushering you in. You plopped yourself down on the couch and kicked your slippers off, clad in sweatpants and a tank top. He sat beside you and you propped your legs up on his lap, snatching the TV remote from the coffee table to flip through channels. You heard what you assumed was Logan’s bedroom door open down the hall, keeping your eyes glued to the TV.

“Peanut! Care to join?” Wade exclaimed as he watched his roommate enter the open kitchen, digging around in the fridge.

You still didn’t tear your gaze from the screen.

“Hell no.”

That wasn’t much of a surprise.

“Your loss!” Wade reached for the pack of beer on the table, offering one that you gladly accepted, “but don’t bother us, keeping up with the kardashians is incredibly important.”

“Uh - huh.”

Logan disappeared again in seconds and Wade shook his head.

You focused back on the TV screen.

“So, how many minutes into the episode do you think one of them is going to start a fight?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Hours and many beers later, you were on the floor with your knees to your chest between the couch and coffee table as you tried to stifle your giggling. Wade was laid on the couch, no better off than you.

“Hey - hey, I wanna ask you somethin’,” his voice became a little serious, but he still had a shit eating grin on his face, “what are you into Logan for anyway?”

You dreaded the question, groaning and closing your eyes.

“Seriously! I mean, I’ve been here the entire time - “

“Wade.”

He looked at you expectantly, awaiting a response.

You contemplated your answer for a moment, your filter diminishing more and more with every sip of beer, “God, I don’t know, he’s - he’s jus’ big.”

You were snickering behind the beer bottle you drunkenly held in front of your face in an attempt to hide.

“I don’t think he’s that impressive. You know, he’s got small feet - tiny, like a child.”

That had you both doubled over, trying to muffle your laughs with your hands and the throw pillows strewn on the floor.

“Stop, stop - ” you choked out when you finally caught your breath, wacking him on the arm.

“Okay but really, what is it? I know you, you’re not into beefcakes,” he laughed and shook his head.

You sighed, not really thinking for even a second before you started speaking again.

“He’s older and he’s hot -”

“And completely cold and dismissive towards you.”

You rolled your eyes at his interruption but still nodded, “yeah - yes, but that’s not my point.”

Wade took another sip of his beer and motioned for you to continue talking.

“He, uh - ” you tried to bite down a giggle, your face turning pink, “I don’t know, I think he’d be good in bed.”

That made him sit forward on the couch, his mouth open in surprise, “I knew it! I knew you were a horny freak!”

“Am not!” you picked a pillow up from the floor and launched it at his face, “I’m allowed to be, anyway!”

“Whatever,” he caught the pillow in his hands, “I'm on operation ‘Cupid’ and I have never quit a mission, cupcake. So, what about him makes you think that? Is it because he's a hundred and eighty - something years older than you? He’s probably been passed around the block like a wh - “

“Okay,” you cut him off, cringing at the thought, “ I think I got the picture.”

Your mind began to wander again about Logan and you narrowed your eyes in thought, staring at nothing.

“What’cha thinkin’, honey bun?”

Wade's voice cut through your concentration and you shrugged, a smile creeping onto your face.

“Oh no,” he started, stretching the vowel, “you’re having a sex fantasy right now, I can see it on your face - disgusting. Tell me more.”

“What, you want details?” You laughed, giving up on trying to hide it if Wade could already read you like an open book. You were both terribly honest with each other - almost to a fault.

“Not the full middle-aged-white-women erotica novel version,” he answered, “I can accept cliff notes.”

You thought for a moment, going down the mental list you’d made of all the assumptions you had about the older roommate that you rarely ever saw.

“He’s gotta have a huge dick. Like, massive.”

Wade nearly spit out his beer but nodded for you to continue.

“I’d let him, like - like,” you were giggling between words as you tried to form a sentence, “ fuckin’ rearrange my guts.”

That did make Wade spit his beer, which set off a train of uncontrollable laughter that you both tried to stifle.

Still, throw pillows and hands over your mouths were not as effective as you believed.

Logan’s eyes fluttered open, squinting in the dark. The digital clock on his nightstand read ‘2:24 am’ in red LEDs. He closed his eyes again and tried to drift back to sleep, only to be jolted up by the sound of the two of you laughing obnoxiously from the living room.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled to himself, getting up to walk towards his door so he could tell you both to keep it quiet. As his hand touched the knob, he halted when he heard your voice.

“He’s probably good at eating pussy. He’d be like an animal - “

Logan was stuck in place, his eyes narrowed. Who the hell were you talking about?

“Can we go back to the rearranging guts thing? ‘Cause I have to tell you, sister - he’s made of metal and he’ll really do it.”

That couldn’t be about him. He refused to believe you two were actually talking about him like that in the next room.

“I’d let him,” he could hear you snickering.

“Is this a daddy issues thing? The ‘I can fix him’ maneuver?”

“I didn’t say I wanted to fix him, I said I wanted to fuck him.”

If this was about some guy, Logan should be relieved; thankful that you’d found a new target of infatuation. He should be relieved, but he was gripping the door knob like he was going to break it off.

Wade’s voice broke through his thoughts, “you’re lucky Logan’s not much into relationships, then.”

So you were talking about him.

Your voice echoed in his head, your words cementing themselves into his brain.

On the living room floor, you were chucking pieces of popcorn into Wade's direction, trying to land one in his open mouth.

“Hey,” he started after catching a piece between his teeth and eating it, “if you do end up in Wolvies bed? Pics or it didn’t happen.”

You gasped and nearly chucked your empty bottle at his head, deciding against it when you remembered Logan was asleep in the other room.

Logan was in the other room.

Just as you were about to panic to Wade about Logan overhearing your foul-mouthed and horny drunk rambling, you both heard the click of his door coming unlocked and the creak of the hinges. He appeared at the doorway in a beater and pajama pants, his hair sticking up in every direction. Truthfully, he looked cute.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you. It’s two in the morning.”

Adorable, even.

“Oopsie! Sorry, Peanut. We had very important things to discuss,” Wade replied.

Without another word, Logan shut his door again and you and Wade sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“Do you think he heard me?” you whispered, grimacing.

“We’ll find out.”

With that, you both decided to call it a night and you returned to the familiar comfort of your apartment.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next morning, Wade was up far earlier than his roommate, as usual. He sat on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, turning his head when he heard Logan’s door open.

“Sleeping beauty! So kind of you to bless me with your presence. What’s the occasion?”

“Breakfast.”

“Technically it would be lunch, peanut.”

Logan was facing the pantry in the kitchen and Wade could still feel the anger radiating off him.

Ignoring his seething silence, Wade began to speak again, “you didn’t happen to overhear any conversations last night, did you?”

Logan was facing him again, pouring cereal into a bowl and speaking without looking away from it, “you mean the one where your little friend said she wanted to fuck me? Yeah, I heard enough of it to get the jist.”

Wade had a gleeful look plastered on his face as he turned in his seat, “so you’re gonna take her up on the offer, right?”

“That wasn’t an offer, and besides,” Logan was shoveling cereal into his mouth, “ ‘m not interested.”

“See, you say that, Peanut, and yet you just have to come out here at least once while she’s over.”

Logan was glaring daggers into his skull.

“I live here.”

The younger of the two clicked his tongue, turning his attention to the TV screen, “All I'm saying is that she’s our neighbor, she's a sweetheart, she is single and has a job and an apartment all to herself, dude. Bone city.”

“Ew.”

“Think about it.” “Don’t need to.”

As Logan scarfed down the rest of his breakfast and put the bowl in the sink, Wade was already typing furiously in his messages to create a plan.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Another week rolled by, meaning it was time to get hammered and make fun of the Kardashians again. You held your breath waiting for Wade to answer the door, anxiously picking at your fingernails.

He opened the door and ushered you in like any other time, except he was dressed to go out instead of the usual PJ attire.

“What, are you leaving me for a hot date?” you teased, dropping the snacks you brought onto the kitchen island.

“Yes!”

You furrowed your eyebrows and frowned, awaiting his explanation.

“I’ve got a date with Vanessa, but - “

Logan emerged from his room, navigating his way to the kitchen as if neither of you were there.

“Peanut! So glad you decided to join us! Hey - “ Wade tapped the kitchen island, motioning for him to come over so he could talk to you both at the same time.

“Okay - I have a date with Vanessa tonight, so I need you,” he motioned between the two of you, “to get along.”

You were about to interrupt, insist that you can just reschedule, but it was as if he’d read your mind.

“You’re already here, cupcake, just stay and chill out. And you - “ he turned completely towards Logan, “you’re going to be nice like I asked you. Do you think you’ll survive?”

Logan was staring at him, unblinking with a scowl on his face.

“You, uh, you don’t have to sit with me,” you mumbled to him, forcing him to finally acknowledge your presence.

He’d half expected it to be your idea as much as it was Wade’s - some kind of ploy to get him alone - but you weren’t jumping at the chance, trying to be touchy-feely with him, begging him to stay.

He almost wished you would.

He cleared his throat and looked back to Wade, “I'm not gonna babysit your friend.”

“Who said I needed a babysitter?” you chimed in.

They both turned to you to watch you slam the top of a beer bottle on the edge of the countertop, sending the metal top flying somewhere into the living room.

“We have a bottle opener in the drawer,” Wade sighed in defeat, ”anyway - you don’t need to babysit her, I'm just saying she doesn’t bite and It would be uncool to leave her all alone.”

“Aren’t you the one leaving?” you asked, taking a sip of your beer.

“Not the point,” he answered, grabbing his jacket from the coat stand as he walked towards the front door, “play nice, don’t eat anything in the fridge with my name on it and there’s condoms in my nightstand!”

He opened and shut the door, leaving the both of you in awkward silence. Logan’s face was actually red, a mix between rage and mild embarrassment.

“He’s a dick,” you muttered, trying to make some kind of small talk, only to be met again with silence. You sighed, going to the couch and picking up the remote. You finally made yourself look Logan in the eyes, your cheeks burning uncontrollably when he never broke his stare.

“Listen - it’s fine, I get it, you’re like…the lone wolf,” you laughed a little to yourself, having to divert your eyes to the fabric of the couch, “I’m not gonna burst into tears if you don’t sit with me.”

He was a little taken back by your bluntness, though it was refreshing. He figured you’d be pink in the face - practically begging him to stay - but you weren’t. You pretended you couldn’t give less of a shit with your eyes now glued to the TV. You were as cool as you could act on the outside, but you nearly lost that cool when he spoke again.

“I can sit for a bit,” he shuffled over to the couch, settling himself down next to you. If you weren’t gonna be all over him like he thought you would, he could withstand a couple episodes of whatever the hell you and Wade had been watching. He didn’t dislike you, really - just terrified of the possibility of intimacy. You were pretty, and from what he’d overheard now and then, you were funny too. He liked the way the smell of your body wash and perfume flooded the apartment whenever you’d stop by and how you’d always bring some leftovers to be sure both of them had eaten - leftovers of which the roommates would always get into a spat over - usually because Logan ate it all before Wade could even see what was in the container.

Unfortunately for Logan, he began to enjoy you being around.

You could feel your stomach tie itself in knots when he sat beside you but nodded in acknowledgment, flipping through TV channels. You settled on the Kardashians again, tossing the remote on the table.

“This is the shit you guys watch, huh?” he teased, grabbing a beer from the pack Wade left behind.

You smiled a little to yourself, noticing how he was slowly getting more comfortable with you, “mhm, top tier - wait till you see one of them talk, it’s like watching an alien.”

You actually pulled a miniscule of a laugh out of him and your heart nearly skipped a beat at the sound.

As the show went on and you both made snarky commentary at just about everything, you felt more and more like you were just hanging out with Wade - comfortable and casual, except for the way your face burned up every time he stretched and his white beater rode up his stomach.

“So,” you began as the episode ended, “thoughts? Opinions?”

He was looking between you and the screen, thinking hard, “I don’t get it.”

You shrugged, “me neither, to be honest, but god is it funny to watch rich people lose their shit sometimes.”

He chuckled again at your response, placing his empty bottle on the table next to yours.

It was silent for a moment, the air tense with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“What do you usually watch on TV?” you asked, intending to flip the channel to whatever he may be interested in - if he had to sit through Keeping Up with The Kardashians, it was only fair.

“Nothin’, really,” he answered, his eyes moving from the screen to rest on you, like a heavy weight on your chest.

“Do you even watch TV?” you asked, the both of you having abandoned the idea of trying to find something else to watch and just letting it play in the background.

“Nah,” he shrugged, his arms crossed against his chest, “ I don’t do much of anything.’

You could tell his answer was earnest and you frowned a bit, swinging your legs up on the couch and turning to face him completely, “nothing? There has to be something.”

He was unsure about how close you were to him now, your knees to your chest as you looked at him expectantly. He thought he’d be met with that look - the one you kept giving him in passing that he hated so much - but your face was neutral, waiting patiently for him to respond. Truthfully, he didn’t hate the look itself - or you, for that matter - but hated how it made him feel.

As if there were some sliver of hope for a future worth living through.

He cleared his throat, turning his body towards you on the couch, “I work out, sometimes - “

‘’Yeah, clearly’’, you wanted to say.

“Other than that,” he continued, “I don’t know, the bar - sometimes I'll let Wade drag me out somewhere but I usually leave after half an hour.”

“Huh, so you really are by yourself a lot,” you realized aloud.

Logan never thought it sad until he heard it from your mouth.

“I like it that way, most of the time,” he shrugged.

“I can tell - took you two weeks to finally say hello. I think this is the most I've ever heard your voice, actually.”

He realized you were right and did feel a little bad, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I just don’t like meeting new people.”

“Me neither.”

It was silent then - save for the TV - either one of you waiting for the other to explain just why that is. You figured it would be easier if you went first.

“I never really had a lot of friends growing up. I had a hard time in school and a lot of the other kids didn’t like me. It was just tough to make friends, especially because - “

You stopped, thinking over what details to include and what to leave out.

“Because?” Logan prompted and you sighed, biting back a giggle.

“Because I was goth. I don’t mean I just dressed in black - I mean I wore white face paint and huge boots and ate lunch in the art room.”

That actually pulled a real fucking laugh out of him and you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

“I’m not laughing ‘cause you were goth, that's not weird” he clarified, “I'm laughing because I just can’t picture it.”

You didn’t embrace the style as much as you used to, trading Siouxsie Sioux makeup for reading glasses and teased hair for your natural texture.

“I’ll bring over my highschool yearbook sometime,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

Realizing it was now his turn to speak, he readjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat, visibly becoming a little uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, you know,” you reminded him gently, giving a soft smile.

It only made it harder for Logan that you were so damn nice.

He tentatively explained the timelines, the different versions everyone has of themselves, how he’d gotten there. You hung on his every word, unintentionally giving him a sympathetic look when he had finished explaining.

“So…you were just alone after all that?” your voice was soft, worry clear in your tone.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “yeah, yeah.. ‘till I met Wade, obviously.”

You gave him a small smile, “you’ll never be alone again, you know.”

For some reason, the unfamiliar comfort made his stomach turn and he simply shook his head, “Yeah, I'm never gonna be able to get rid of him.”

That made you giggle, nodding in agreement.

“You can try, but he will always find you - like a determined cockroach.”

That got the both of you and you’d never seen Logan smile that way - though, to be fair, you never saw much of his face anyway.

The version of you that sat on the couch across from him was far from who he thought you were. He felt guilty now for assuming things just from looking at you, but it was a habit he had yet to shake. It was clear you were beautiful - that was never a question - but talking with you made him realize just how much he may have missed out by keeping himself so closed off. You laughed at almost every joke he had made, comforted him when he was nothing but rude and always checked up on him and Wade. You smelled so nice, your hair looked so soft and he almost found himself wanting to reach over and run his fingers through it. In his eyes, you seemed to be everything he was not; all of the best qualities he believed he didn't possess.

“Oh, hey - do you want some popcorn? I brought the microwave kind, I keep telling Wade to get it himself and he never does,” you snapped him out of his trance and stood from the couch, already walking to the kitchen.

“Uh, sure,” he found himself getting up to follow you, not wanting to pause a moment of conversation.

You tossed the bag in the microwave and hit the button, leaning yourself against the counter. Logan leaned himself besides you, significantly taller. You’d held your composure so far, but having him so close and realizing just how much bigger he was made your heart beat like a rabbit’s.

“So, you never asked about the mutant thing,” He spoke over the popping, looking down at you and waiting for the twenty questions.

You only shrugged, “I figured If you wanted to tell me, you’d tell me. I wasn’t gonna interrogate you about it. Plus, Wade told me.”

“Of course he did,” Logan scoffed, “I’m afraid to know what exactly it was that he told you.”

“You’ve got adamantium instead of bones,” you replied matter of factly, “and you’ve got claws. I mean, I’ve never seen them, but that's what he told me.”

He thought for a minute, stepping in front of you a little. He was about arm-length away, putting enough distance between you both that he was sure he wouldn’t accidentally knick you.

In a second, the adamantium claws protruded from between his knuckles, glistening in the kitchen light. You flinched for only a second, leaning in to inspect them.

“Woah,” you muttered, bringing a finger up to the very end of one of them and letting it poke you, “cool.”

He was a bit confused by your calm demeanor, but relieved by it anyway. It was never a good time when someone had a bad reaction to the claws. The microwave beeped and he retracted them, stepping out of your way. You opened it and held the scolding bag with two fingers, realizing you needed a bowl to put it in.

“Logan, can you grab a-”

You felt one hand on your hip and could see his other reach above you, opening a cabinet you couldn't and handing you a bowl. Your back was almost flush to his chest, making you feel warm all over. He reluctantly pulled away from you and you cleared your throat, shaking the popcorn into the bowl.

He watched you from where you stood, taking in the curve of your waist and hips and realizing he was in much more trouble than he’d originally thought. He’d heard your drunken giggling about him - heard you vulgarly talk about how good you think he’d be at giving head - but he was still thinking it over with his bottom lip between his teeth. He finally broke the silence that filled the room.

“You know, the claws aren’t the only thing abnormal about me.”

“Mm, no?” you laughed a little with your back still turned to him. You could feel that your face was hot.

“Heightened senses,” he said simply, “hearing and smell, mostly.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like right now, I can hear your heartbeat.”

Your eyes went wide and you practically froze in place.

“It’s fast.”

His voice was closer.

“Really fast,” his breath was in your ear, his hands coming to rest on your waist, “got even faster when I pointed it out.”

You swallowed hard, knowing very well there was no way to lie to him.

“Jus’ nervous sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything,” you exhaled, attempting to still your shaking hands.

“Mhm,” he hummed, his deep voice reverberating through your chest because of his proximity, “what about the other night, though?”

You narrowed your eyes and turned to finally face him, nearly chest to chest.

“What are you talking about?”

You knew exactly what he was talking about - you just hoped it wasn’t what you thought.

His hands were on the counter behind you, boxing you in.

“C’mon,” he looked at you expectantly with a shit eating smirk on his face, “what made you think I’d be good at eating pussy, anyway?”

You were red with embarrassment, pulling your hands up to cover your face, but Logan caught your wrists gently and clicked his tongue.

“Pretty girl, it’s alright - “

His gruff voice calling you such a sweet nickname nearly made your knees buckle.

“I can smell how wet you get, you know that?”

One of his hands moved to hold you by your throat, barely using any pressure.

“F-Fuck off,” you managed to mutter, stuttering when he pushed one of his thighs inbetween yours. This was nowhere near what you pictured happening when Wade dumped you in his living room with a guy who would barely even look at you.

He chuckled, his other hand pushing on the small of your back to pull you closer into him.

“Yeah? I don’t think you really want me to, sweetheart. Besides, you didn’t answer my question.”

You could barely think, nevermind answer whatever it was he had asked. You were almost nose to nose, Logan craning his neck down a bit to level his face with yours.

“I, um,” your breathing was shaky, “fuck, I don’t know - I jus’ think about it a lot.”

“Me too,” he admitted before crashing his lips to yours, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of your head. It was truthful - he’d probably thought of you every day since the night he heard you talk about him like that.

You couldn’t help moaning into his mouth when he kissed you, letting him slip his tongue past your lips. His hands roamed down your back and to your ass, using his grip to rock your hips over his thigh.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he moved down your jaw and neck, kissing and biting at the soft skin, “drove me crazy, hearing you say those things.”

“How much - how much did you hear?” you tried to ask, overwhelmed by his teeth grazing your neck. Your hands rested against his chest - as if you were going to push him away - but you never did.

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin, “heard enough.”

“And what exactly was that?”

If he was going to tease, you might as well bite back.

He pulled away momentarily to look in your eyes, knowing damn well he already had you where he wanted you.

“You don’t want to fix me, you want to fuck me, right?”

Your own words sounded so much hotter coming out of his mouth.

“Mhm,” was all you could manage to get out, too focused on the feeling of him pushing and pulling your hips over his thigh.

“Huh? Use your words, sweetheart.”

There was something about the affectionate nicknames he was using in contrast to the filthy way he was trying to push you down even harder on his thigh that made you lightheaded.

“Yeah - yes, I want to,” you practically whined.

That was all the confirmation he needed to hoist you up onto the counter with his hands on your ass. He was kissing you hungrily, his fingers hooking around the straps of your tank top to let them fall down your shoulders. You didn’t waste any time in breaking the kiss momentarily to strip yourself of the garment, tossing it to the kitchen floor.

“Fuck, jesus christ,” He groaned at the sight of your bare chest and immediately brought his large hands up to massage your breasts. A chill went down your spine when he leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue. Your hands were threaded through his hair, tugging every so slightly when he would pull his mouth off you with a popping sound. The majority of your chest was glistening with his spit when he finally brought his mouth to yours again, leaving a clear coating over the developing hickies that he left. You tugged at the hem of Logan's white beater to signal that you wanted it off. He did as you pleased, leaving plenty of skin for you to run your hands over.

“Been thinking of you, all spread out of me,” he murmured in between kisses. He used his grip on your ass to grind you against him, his hard cock pressing against you. The pressure from it was enough for your pussy to start aching.

“I wanna know what you taste like,” he continued, holding your chin to tilt your head up, “can I find out?”

You nodded frantically and nearly choked on your own spit. You lifted your hips to let him strip you of your pants and underwear, leaving you completely bare on the counter in front of him.

You felt vulnerable, pressing your knees together only to have Logan use his hands to spread them apart.

“Uh-uh,” he clicked his tongue, “let me see your pretty pussy.”

He got on his knees on the kitchen floor, hooking his arms around your thighs and settling his face between them. He nipped at the hot skin of your inner thighs and you inadvertently tugged his hair every time he did so. He finally laid his tongue flat against you and you whined, the sound echoing through the kitchen. He was sloppy, practically drooling into your cunt and using it to lubricate his fingers so he could slip them into you. Your theory from before was proven right; he was kind of animalistic when he ate you out.

He was curling his fingers as he thrusted them in and out, sucking on your clit at the same time. You gasped when he spoke with his mouth still buried in your cunt.

“Tastes so fucking good.”

Your ankles were locked to keep his head between your thighs, leaning yourself back against the wall.

“Jesus christ, Logan - “ you whined, cut off when he growled into you.

“Mhm, ‘feels good, baby?”

You only nodded, unable to communicate with how deep he was curling his fingers into you. He continued to mumble praises against your cunt, amused by how much it clearly spurred you on.

“This is all mine, huh? Know you wanted it, could smell how bad you needed me every time you were over.”

You could feel the pressure in your lower stomach start to build.

“You’re so wet for me, such a good girl - makin’ such a fucking mess.”

It wasn’t long before you were pulling him back by his hair.

He reluctantly detached himself, looking up at you with concern. His mouth and chin were wet, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

“ ‘m fine, just - I was close -”

He groaned in a way that almost sounded annoyed, diving his tongue back into you, “C’mon, do it, then - come for me, pretty girl.”

His praise was enough to trigger your orgasm and you couldn’t help rocking your hips against his face as you rode it out. You were cursing, tears starting to form in your eyes when he didn’t let up.

“L-Logan, fuck,” you cried. You could’ve pulled him off, told him it was too much, but he was so determined and skilled in the way he flicked his tongue that the discomfort of overstimulation dissipated into pleasure within seconds.

“One more for me, baby, one more. Think you can?”

You were moaning so loud at that point that you tried to bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the sound but Logan caught your wrist and brought it back to his hair, encouraging you to keep tugging and pulling.

Your second orgasms approached hard and fast, tears rolling down your cheek. Your legs shook uncontrollably as he finally sat back on his heels.

When you caught your breath, he pulled himself up to slide his arms around your lower back and plant a kiss on your forehead, wiping your wet cheeks.

“Can I take you to the bed?”

You nodded and smiled wide, leaning up to kiss him.

He effortlessly carried you through the hallway and into his bedroom, your bare chest pressed against his. The second your back hit his mattress, his cellphone started to ring from his bedside table.

You watched Logan furrow his eyebrows and reach for the phone. He read the caller ID and bore an amused smile, switching it to silent.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, wrapping your arms around him when he came to hover above you.

“It’s Wade,” he chuckled to himself, “probably calling to see if everythings alright.”

That made you giggle, “yeah, we can tell him we’re doing just fine.”

“I’ll call him later.”

His lips were on yours again, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you as he pinned you to the bed with his hips. You slid your hands from his neck, down his back and around the front of his waist to rest on his belt buckle. Your fingers made quick work of the metal fastener and you tugged the leather from his jeans. He stood up off the bed for a moment to strip himself of the rest of his clothing. When his cock sprung up from his boxers and hit his stomach, you almost had to choke back a gasp. Again, you were proven right - he was huge. He crawled back between your legs and positioned himself on top of you.

“You’re okay with this?”

If anyone told you maybe two hours earlier that you’d end up under Wade’s grumpy roommate, your chest heaving from the anticipation of finally having him slot into you, you would’ve called them crazy. Now, however, it was a reality - one you would’ve gladly spent the rest of your life in.

You realized he was holding back, gripping the sheets next to your head and waiting for a definite answer.

You nodded and scratched at the back of his neck affectionately. He guided himself into you and you groaned at the feeling of his tip alone.

“ ‘s okay?”

Logan was practically slurring his words with how hard he had to hold himself back. Your warm chest to his, your thighs locked around his waist, the way you smelled; it was all overwhelming in the best way possible.

“So good,” you whined, trying to push your hips up to encourage him to go even deeper, “want all of it, please, please.”

He was chewing on his lip when he finally let himself fill you completely in one thrust. You dug your fingernails into his back, leaving scratches that healed themselves within seconds. He let out a guttural moan with his face buried in your neck, concentrating on trying to build a steady rhythm without finishing things too fast. He propped himself up on his elbows on either side of you as he tentatively rocked in and out.

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, a hand coming up to wipe the sweat dampened hair from your flushed face. It was so sweet, so intimate; nothing you’d ever really expected with or from him.

“You're handsome,” you managed to reply, amused by how taken back he seemed by the compliment, “perfect.”

He couldn’t remember the last time someone called him that - handsome, definitely never perfect - while actually looking at him like they meant it. Your eyes were trained on the features of his face, attempting to memorize every line and wrinkle; every bit of him that made him Logan. Your eyes felt to him like they could burn right through the wall he’d managed to construct.

Still, he instinctively scoffed as he hovered over you. He was never good at accepting compliments.

“I’m not the lying type, you know,” you assured him, whispering in his ear as he continued at a steady pace, “besides, do you think I'd be under you right now if that wasn’t true?”

“Mm - shut up”, he fought a smile and increased his pace in the hopes that it would render you speechless.

It did, of course.

You were a moaning mess atop his sheets with your back arched to accommodate Logan’s arm sneaking around you. His pace was enough to rock his headboard into the wall and he was thankful it was your apartment on the other side instead of a stranger’s. You were chest to chest as he whispered filthy things into your ear.

“Takin’ it well like I knew you would, baby doll - knew you’d like it when I fucked you like this.”

You were still at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the pressure in your lower stomach.

“You think you’ve got another one in you? C’mon, sweet girl, let me see it.”

His coaxing had your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head as he pounded into you. Besides the grunts and moans between you two, the only sound echoing in the room was the slap of skin against skin and the squelching of your pussy as he dragged himself out and back in again.

You were almost drooling from how deep he was able to fuck you. The familiar fire in your stomach had you feeling warm all over, building and building itself up. As if he could read your mind, Logan’s hand reached down between the both of you and he started to trace tight circles around your swollen clit.

“F-Fuck, my god, Logan - “

He hummed affirmatively, almost as if to acknowledge that was indeed his name that you were chanting.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you almost saw stars when your third orgasm hit hard and fast. You were probably loud enough for the entire building to hear as he worked you through it.

“Good girl, good girl - c’mere,” he praised, flipping you over so that you were on your hands and knees. You laid your chest as flat as you could against the mattress and arched your back. He didn’t hesitate in fitting himself snuggly inside of you again, his hands kneading at and smacking your ass as he used his grip to push and pull you. It wasn’t long before his thrusts started to become sloppy. He leaned down and hooked an arm around you, lifting you up a little so that his chest was pressed to your back. He moved his hand to your throat to tilt back your head. The way you looked back at him, your beautiful eyes boring into his soul - that was all he needed to finally let go. You felt him flood you with his come, a mixture of yours and his soaking the sheets underneath you. He gently pulled out and almost immediately pulled you against him to cuddle, his eyes already fluttering close. You didn’t take him for the cuddly type but it was just another wholesome thing you’d learned about him.

“You should call Wade back,” you mumbled, already drifting to sleep with your head on Logan’s chest.

“ ‘m busy, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

You chuckled to yourself, letting exhaustion overtake you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Wade practically sprinted up the steps to his apartment the next morning, keys already in hand. If Logan hadn’t answered - even if it was just to tell him to fuck off - something really bad must’ve happened. You hadn't answered any of his fifteen texts, either.

He unlocked his door and prepared himself to be met with a gorey scene, only to be surprised that there was no sign of a scuffle. There was untouched popcorn in the kitchen, clearly abandoned at some point right after making it. Did Logan upset you enough last night to make you leave early?

Of course, he’d completely missed your clothing that had been tossed just out of sight from where he was standing.

Wade sighed in frustration, striding through the hallway and stopping outside Logan’s bedroom. He banged his fist on the door and rested his hands on his hips as he spoke through the wood.

“Hey! Peanut! Did you make our guest leave early last night? How’d it go? You didn’t answer your phone and neither did she.”

On the other side of the door, your heads both popped up at the sound of wade’s banging. You stifled a laugh, looking to Logan for him to say something.

“Uh, yeah…she had somethin’ to take care of.”

Now you had to bury your face in his comforter, uncontrollably snickering.

Without warning, Wade groaned and swung the door open - one neither of you thought to lock because no one had been home.

“You better get your ass across the hall and apologize for whatever it is that -“

He was met with the sight of the both of you in Logan’s bed, covered by the bedding. It was obvious you were both undressed, Logan’s boxers somewhere near Wade’s feet.

He gasped, looking between the two of you in confusion before a giddy smile appeared on his face.

“Oh, I see, I see. Right, mhm - “

Logan was already trying to shoo him out but Wade wasn’t going to let him before he got the last word in.

“You're welcome, by the way!”

He shut the door and you laughed.

Logan laid back again, resting his arm around your shoulders so he could pull you back into his chest again.

In the comfortable silence, doubt settled itself in the form of a pit in your stomach. What if this was a one time thing?

Almost instantly, you felt his hand comb through your hair.

“Hey, uh,” he started, looking down into your eyes, “listen, I know I was supposed to ask this before I got you in here, but - um..”

You could feel your stomach turn, borderline terrified of what he was going to say next.

“Would you want to go out for coffee sometime?”

A wide grin spread across your face and you nodded eagerly, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’d love that.”

A/N: this ones long as hell but so is just about everything else I write! if you've made it to the end I loooove u and pls interact if you enjoyed; hearing feedback is what motivates me to keep writing! as always, my inbox is open as well <3

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fic #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fanfiction #logan wolverine #smut #fanfic #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine fic #fanfiction

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dinogoofymutated · 9 months ago

Note

For the Logan thirst: it’s laundry day. You’ve got nothing to wear but a pair of panties (or maybe that ugly thong you bought just bc it was on sale) and one of Logan’s flannels or shirts. You still end up with nothing to wear because you got side tracked. 👀 Logan totally didn’t go feral seeing you in one of his shirts. He was soo normal about it. 👀💚

NSFW! Wolverine/AFAB!FEM!reader.

This is the most depraved thing I've ever written I stg. I basically combined some tropes from a few different requests I received, so I hope this will satisfy everyone's thirst 😏

TWs: MDNI!!!! scent kink (my god). Nicknames "pretty girl" and "beautiful". Logan being feral. Manhandling. Eating-out. Little bit of edging. Fucking against the wall, PNV sex, biting, creampie.

You hated doing the laundry. You hated gathering it, folding it, putting it away- it just was so slow. It left you with too much time to think- and you avoided doing it because of that- but this was getting ridiculous. You couldn't find a single clean shirt- you were lucky that you had managed to find underwear, Honestly. All of your pants were dirty too, which left you standing around in the bedroom halfway naked, finally deciding that you had no choice but to do the laundry.

But you needed a shirt. It didn't matter if it was your own home- you just felt too vulnerable walking around the house basically naked like you were. You debate grabbing the bedcovers to sling over you, but that was going to be annoying to deal with while you're lifting and throwing shit in the laundry machines. A flash of red catches your eye on the top of your dresser. It's Logan's flannel. The one lounged around in yesterday while enjoying his day off.

Well, it wasn't dirty, because he hadn't gone out in it. At most it just smelled like him. So… why not?

His flannel is a bit oversized on you, reaching down towards your thighs. The sleeves were a bit awkward to work around, but you made it work. It was almost nice. Domestic even, to be wearing his clothes like this. You're in the laundry room when Logan gets home, still folding and sorting your laundry with both the washer and dryer running.

“Fuck.” Logan's low grunt from the doorway startles you at first, almost dropping the clothes in your hands. It wears off pretty quickly though, and you give him a sweet smile.

“Hey Logan! Didn't realize you made it home.” You say. Logan seems to be standing there stunned for a moment, swallowing. He catches you off-guard by rushing you, pulling you in by the hips and smashing his lips against your own. You can only let out a surprised noise, wide-eyed at him. It doesn't take long for you to kiss back, heart pounding from the welcomed surprise. Logan bites your lip, taking his opportunity to lick into your mouth when you gasp. His sharp canines were one of your favorite parts about him, and he sure as hell always made sure to take advantage of that.

Your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt as his hands move down, squeezing and fondling your ass and thighs. You let out a yelp as the fondling turns to lifting, and he grabs you by the thighs to plop you onto the washing machine rather roughly.

“Laundry day?” Logan finally asks, looking at you with lidded eyes before his haze of lust returns. His gaze drifts towards the cleavage exposed from the neckline of his flannel, reaching much lower on you than it does for him. He's buried his face into your cleavage immediately, brushing the ends of his sharp canines on the skin as he nips and sucks a mark onto the top of one of your breasts.

“Uh- uh-huh.” You stutter out, desperately trying to keep your composure. You bite your lip as Logan works his way back up to your neck, continuing to lick and suck on your most sensitive spots. He nips you a little harder than normal, and you accidentally let out a rather erotic moan. Logan's breath hitches at the sound, before he’s growling into you.

He pulls away from you rather abruptly as he grabs onto your thighs again, causing your lower back to hit the top of the washing machine as Logan lifts your panty-clad core to his face, throwing your legs over his shoulders. He leans in, dragging his teeth bluntly across the fabric, putting pressure on your clothed clit. He kisses over it afterward, right before he presses his face flush against you and takes a deep breath in through his nose- taking in the scent of your arousal, drowning his senses in it as he makes you writhe.

“Logan!” You scold, completely embarrassed- and yet still aroused. Wetness pools as Logan lets out a deep chuckle in response, his eyes flickering up to meet yours right before he locks one long stripe up your underwear. You're struggling to keep it together, covering your face in your hands as you let out another moan.

“The things you do to me, pretty girl.” Logan rumbles, finally pulling off the now-soaked panties. “Fuckin’ love breathing in that scent.” You swear if you could pass away right now, you might.

“I-It's- the flannel, right? I -ah- didn’t realize that you'd get so feral over it.” You say, peeking through your fingers as Logan closes in on you again, licking another long stripe up your pussy. It's so much more sensitive now that fabric wasn't in the way, and you can't help but writhe a little more in the uncomfortable position as he stops at your clit, giving you a hard and short suck before he stops, chuckling again.

“Believe me, beautiful, you haven't seen feral yet.” Logan's words give you goosebumps, and he latches onto your clit again immediately. Fuck, did it feel so, so good. Logan's groans and hums against your clit sound so obscene mixed with the wet noises from your cunt. His rough tongue draws circles around your sensitive clit, every once in a while sliding a bit downward to slide past your lips and enter your plush walls. You have one hand covering your mouth as the other clenches the side of the running washing machine- scrambling for purchase.

Logan's rough hands trail up and down the inside of your thighs, letting you whine and whimper for him- begging him to give you just a little more. He teases you, brushing his knuckles just barely above your slit as he continues to eagerly suck and abuse the little nub in his mouth.

When he finally slides a single, thick finger inside of you, you can't help but let out a loud whine. He meets no resistance against your soaked walls, slowly stroking it in and out of you. Your walls flutter and cling to the digit, your hips bucking as he curls it inside of you. The action makes Logan laugh, his other arm wrapping around your thigh so he can press down on your hips, keeping them still.

He adds a second finger when he feels like it, now easing off your clit every once in a while as he feels you begin to get closer to your peak. He edges you like that only for a minute, letting his fingers scissor and stretch out your plush walls.

“P-please. Please please please.” You beg. The knot inside of you is waning, desperately trying to snap- and you're so, so close. Logan continues to suck on your clit, finally bringing you to the precipice of pleasure.

Stars dot your eyes as you cum, Logan's fingers and tongue not letting up as he works you through your pleasure. Logan eagerly licks up your cum as you do so, humming and groaning at the taste.

You're panting when your hips finally stop shaking. Logan is too. His face is covered in your slick, and he curses when he looks up at you. The sight of you disheveled and breathless in his shirt is really getting to him. Logan pulls you down off of the washing machine carefully, kissing your temples as he keeps you steady, just until your legs stop shaking.

“ You okay?” Logan asks.

“Better than okay.”

“Perfect.” The words are hardly out of his mouth before Logan has you pushed against the wall of the laundry room, tits pressed against the wall as his hand spreads your folds from the back, clearing the way for him as he pulls his cock out of his pants. Like before, it surprises you, but as soon as your brain has caught up with your body you find yourself pushing your ass against him. Logan chuckles at your desperate action, sliding his cock against your soaked folds before he slowly begins to enter you.

You let out a loud moan at the feeling of his thick cock stretching you out. Logan is trying to keep himself still to give you a moment to adjust, cursing again and again as he presses his face into your neck, laying kisses across the skin. He feels so right, pressed against and inside you like this. You're making it so much harder for him by desperately clenching down on him, your hips grinding back and forth as you coax him to move. Logan snarls at the action, one hand gripping your hip and the other wrapping around your waist as he thrusts sharply into you. The movement bumps you into the wall, and he begins to thrust eagerly into you.

“Fuck, hold on, pretty.” Logan's pace is forceful, but not rough, smoothly gliding in and out of your plush walls as he growls and snarls into your ear. His pace is steady and not overwhelming, hitting that sweet spot inside of you just right every time.

You're a moaning mess right now, mind fully taken over by the hot man snarling behind you, the fabric of the shirt bunching between his fingers as he holds you by the waist so tightly. Logan's flannel has been rumpled during the action, sliding down to expose your shoulder. His voice in your ear rumbles encouragements, praise, pet names. His hips slap against your ass with every thrust, sharp in comparison to the gentle kisses he places on your shoulder.

You can tell Logan is starting to get close when the pace of his hips begins to waver and change, speeding up as he works to reach his pleasure. His hand around your waist slides down to rub your clit, and he pushes himself flat against your back as he presses the two of you flush against the wall. Logan lets out a series of low grunts as he slams into you, his teeth biting into your shoulder sharply as he cums. You yelp at the sensation, hitting your pleasure just a moment after he does.

Logan grinds against you a few more times as he catches his breath, kissing the mark he's left on your shoulder when the metallic scent of blood hits his nose.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He says remorsefully, hands soothing the bruises on your hips. “I didn't mean to get carried away like that” You turn your head as far as you can, cupping his cheeks in one hand as you pull him forward to kiss you.

“ s’ okay. It was hot.” You mumble. You turn around when he slips out of you, leaning forward into his chest. Logan smiles at you tiredly, his thumb tracing the mark on your shoulder.

“Although, if you want me to fully forgive you, you could always finish the laundry!”

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wonsroyalty · 2 months ago

Text

forbidden, 박성훈

pairing/warnings: 6.4k,, sunghoon x f!reader, brothers best friend, smut, jake and his sister are lowkey spoilt children!!

a/n: my og bias!!! i love sunghoon so so much omg, literally the prettiest boy ever.. hope i did him justice with this trope cause school is kicking my butt😓

masterlist

It wasn’t a secret to say that you wanted your brothers best friend.

You remember the day that Jake brought him over to your house. He was skinny and awkward looking but Jake, the ever-giving saviour, took him under his wing.

Sunghoon truly was innocent before he met Jake. Your brother corrupted him, turning him into a carbon copy of himself.

One time you asked him if he ever missed his old self and he responded harshly asking if you were crazy. Who knew that adopting a fuck boy persona could change a person so drastically..

Sunghoon was over at your house constantly, after school every day, every weekend, every holiday. You were convinced he didn’t ever spend a dinner at his own house.

At first it annoyed you because having two Jake’s at home wasn’t very appealing, but you knew that there was still a part of the old Sunghoon, deep, inside his now cold heart.

Your senior year was an absolute whirlwind, no annoying Jake to pester you and complain about your outfits, no claims that you were slutting yourself out to get the attention of his friends, no Sunghoon.

You didn’t really miss Jake’s presence while he was at university but you truly did miss Sunghoon.

Maybe that’s why you began to act out, screaming at him when he spilt milk down your top (you’d pushed him), calling him every name under the sun and ultimately teasing him relentlessly.

Jake pretended to be oblivious, ignoring your shouting as he focused on the video game in front of him.

He wanted to enjoy his summer, not deal with your new excessive stress reliever.

When he heard Sunghoon start screaming back at you, he got up with a loud groan.

He grabbed your arm, dragging you away from the kitchen.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he glared.

“He spilt milk onto-”

Jake was seething.

“Shut it.” he threatened. “Stop messing with Hoon and go clean up your mess. Dinner will be ready in 40.”

You grumbled under your breath as you stormed up the stairs.

Your parents were on yet another trip, claiming that they needed another break.

They had terrible timing as the day after they left, the shower in your en-suite broke.

You stomped your way over to the main bathroom on Jake’s floor, still jealous at the fact that they built the whole third floor for him and him only and that he had the shower with the best pressure.

Sulking, you peeled your clothes off and hopped into the shower, letting the hot water pierce your skin. Annoyed thoughts slowly trickled out as you scrubbed the milky scent away.

Not keeping track of time, you grabbed a fresh towel off Jake’s stack and wrapped your body.

As you opened the door, Sunghoon seemed to be reaching for the handle, about to open it.

“Sorry.” he grumbled. “I didn’t know you were in there.”

He waited expectantly for you to move out of the doorway but instead watched as you followed his every attempt to walk past you.

“I need to fucking pee, can you get out the way.” he groaned.

“Oh come onnnn, Sunghoon.” you shook your head. “Can’t I have a little fun?”

You dropped your towel at the last word, feigning shock at your actions.

Sunghoon immediately covered his eyes taking steps back.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” he screamed blushing heavily.

“It was an accident!” you screamed back wrapping your body.

“Yn!” Jake shouts from downstairs.

You ran down the stairs, narrowly missing Jake as you launched yourself into your room and locked the door.

With a laugh you got dressed, calling your best friend as you dried your hair at the messy vanity in your room.

“So.. you’re telling me that you purposely let go of your towel to get a reaction out of him.” Sunoo laughed.

You hummed confidently.

“You’re such a freak, yn.”

“You say that like you don’t already know.” you joked.

“No trust me, I know.” he rolled his eyes.

Yes, you had slept with your best friend a few times, but he had a dick and you wanted experience, so who better to trust than him?

“Well I gotta go, Jakey said dinner would be ready agessss ago.” you laughed. “Bye Noo, love you.”

“Love you more.” he blew you a kiss before ending the call.

You calmly made your way to the dinning room and sat in the seat that Jake had set up for you.

“Ramen, again?” you groaned. “How did it take you so long to make this…?”

Jake shot a deadly glare your way.

“If you want to complain about my specialty why don’t you make dinner tomorrow.”

“Gladly.” you accepted.

Sunghoon was silent the whole time you all ate.

Jake waffled on to him but he kept his head down, feeling the pressure of your stare.

You raised a leg onto his, testing the waters before you raised your foot slowly, letting it make its way further up.

“I can’t do this!” he shouted grasping his head.

“Huh?” Jake was confused, scrambling after Sunghoon as he put his shoes on, your own legs following after him.

“Hoon! You said you were staying over!” he complained.

“Yeah, Hoon!” you mockingly whined.

Sunghoon shoved past you.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

He snatched his car keys from the living room table and slammed the door behind himself.

“Wonder why he’s in a fucking mood.” Jake grumbled.

“Let’s just go eat..” you pushed him back to the table, hearing Sunghoon speed away.

Sunghoon kept his promise, returning the next day bright and early but camped out in Jake’s room the whole day.

Ear on the door, you heard him say “So, is Yn gonna stay away…”

“You know,” Jake trailed off. “Heeseung was over the other day and she didn’t act like that so I just think she hates you.”

“There’s a big difference between hate and lust.” Sunghoon shook his head.

“Ew! That’s my sister.” Jake gagged. “I truly don’t think she wants to fuck you.”

You sighed at how wrong he was, mentally giving him points for the protective act.

“Right.” Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Not like i’d want to hit anyways.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s still off limits, don’t try it.” Jake firmly said.

You heard them both shift around and out of the fear of getting caught you knocked on the door.

Sunghoon opened it, glaring down at you.

“What do you want?”

Your palms pushed his chest away from your intended path. Taking note of the fact that he was a lot more muscular than the previous summer.

“I’m not here for you,” you grumbled.

Jake tilted his head as if to ask you what Sunghoon had already said.

“I’m going shopping, gonna take your car because I’m outta fuel.”

“You can’t just take my car, let’s take yours and fill it up.”

“Let’s..?” Sunghoon grumbled.

“I have no money.” you lied.

“How’d you already finish your allowance?” Jake shook his head. “What was the plan when paying for the shopping?”

“Dad’s card.”

Jake hesitated before agreeing. “We’re all going, in my car.”

“I’m driving!” you ran out of the room, Jake following behind you as you raced to get the keys.

Sunghoon was in agony, sulking in the back seat as you and Jake argued over what songs should be played next in the cue.

“Siri, play Stay by Rihanna please.” Jake grinned in satisfaction as the song blasted through his car.

“Fuck you, I want Sticky! Siri play Sticky by Tyler the Creator.” you grumbled as his assistant didn’t listen to your voice and instead chose to snatch his phone and type it in.

The anger in his gut was slowly building up.

“Fuck! Yn keep your eyes on the fucking road, it’s a green light!” He shouted.

Both you and Jake jumped in fear.

Fingers shifting gears and feet pushing down on the pedals, you whipped into shape at the awareness of your surroundings.

“Jeez, Hoon.” Jake checked his ears for blood.

The rest of the ride was absolute silent, bar the music playing, you and Jake didn’t dare to speak up.

Sunghoon jumped out at the first opportunity, storming away with the shopping list leaving the two of you to trail after him like kicked puppies.

“I’ll go get the steak, it’s best from the butchers market down the road.” Jake pulled you in before he left. “Don’t do anything i wouldn’t..”

You nodded, giving him the sweetest smile.

He shook his head, pulling you in for a hug. You felt his lips place a peck on the top of your head.

“No funny business.” he threatened Sunghoon who grumbled in response.

“Sooo…” you dragged on. “Now that Jake’s gone- Hey! Don’t walk away while I’m speaking to you!”

The rest of the shopping trip was quite annoying.

All of your attempts to have Sunghoon squirming failed, he was blatantly ignoring your presence.

“Uh.. what’s Foie Gras?”

You giggled at his butchered attempt of pronouncing the item.

“Fattened duck liver.”

He physically recoiled. “Why would anyone wanna eat that.. ew.”

“It’s good, you’ll like it.” you persisted, leading him towards the correct aisle. “Sunoo??”

Your best friend stopped looking for salmon and embraced your hug.

His hands gripped your waist as you snuggled into his neck.

“Here with your new boy toy?” he laughed, pulling away from the heat of your body.

“I’m Sunghoon, nice to meet you.” the older boy leaned over you, holding a hand out for Sunoo to shake.

Sunoo gripped it firmly, greeting him with a smug grin.

“I’ve heard about you.”

“Good things I hope..”

“Well…” Sunoo laughed.

You pulled their hands apart, choosing to get all up in Sunoo’s personal space.

“Noo, are you coming to Heeseung’s party?” you poked his toned chest.

“Of course,” he grabbed your finger, the end of his sentence coming out as a whisper. “Kazhua told me that Yujin’s gonna be there as his plus one.”

It had been 3 weeks since you stopped talking to your friend Yujin after finding out that she’d slept with Sunghoon despite knowing that you had dibs on him.

Your expression immediately turned sour, very close to acting on the urge to drop kick Sunghoon then and there.

He’d always claimed that you were too young for him, despite there only being a years difference between the two of you, but then went behind your back and slept with a friend of the same age.

“You should see the look on his face right now.” Sunoo leant in closer, “He’s seething watching me get close to you. What a freak.”

Mood dissipating as an idea popped into your head, you took Sunoo’s hands and placed them on your ass. Letting him shamelessly grope you in public.

“Don’t be mean, I like that he’s kinda desperate sometimes.” you laughed.

Sunghoon fought to rip his vision away from you and your friend, slowly gaining the courage to grab the Foie Gras before storming over to you and yanking you away from Sunoo.

“Hey! I didn’t even say bye.” you turned your body to wave at your friend in response to the wink he sent you.

You watched in bewilderment as Sunghoon slammed the basket items onto the conveyor belt, scaring the cashier.

He whipped his wallet out of his pocket and took a card out to pay.

“You don’t have to do that..” you looked away in embarrassment.

You knew that Sunghoon wasn’t as well off as people like you and Jake. Taking up a summer job just to keep up with the lifestyle.

“Well Jake took your dad’s card, so unless you want to return all this, i’ll pay.” he pressed his lips together tightly.

The lack of refusal on your part led him to tap his card onto the scanner.

Watching him wince at the high transaction go through had you clenching your thighs together. You couldn’t tell if the hormones rose from Sunoo or Sunghoon but you didn’t really care.

He bagged the shopping and walked off to the car, not even bothering to look back at you.

Once the bags were in the boot you stood outside waiting for Jake.

“Jake wouldn’t have liked that.”

“Jake or you?” you rolled your eyes. “Sunoo’s my best friend.”

“So you just let your best friends fondle your ass in public?” he scoffed in disbelief. “Hee was right, you really are a slut.”

“Excuse me!”

You both turned to see an elderly lady coming over.

“Please could you help me load my shopping into the taxi?” she pleaded.

“Of course!” you beamed pushing down your anger with a gentle laugh.

Your parents had raised you right in some ways.

Sunghoon followed after you, keeping himself surprisingly close to your moving figure.

You both helped the lady transfer her bags from the trolley to the car, nodding with respect at her praise.

“What a cute couple, thank you for helping me.” she beamed, waving as she got into the passenger seat.

One look at Sunghoon’s face and you could tell he was torn between annoyance and embarrassment.

“Where the fuck is Jake?”

As if on cue Jake showed up.

You wiped your thumb at the lip stain on his cheek.

“You’re so nasty.”

He held a finger up to his lips before wrapping one arm around Sunghoon and the other around you.

“Sooo what did I miss?”

“PartyNextDoor? Really?” Sunghoon muttered walking into the dimly lit kitchen. It was clear that you were trying to set the mood.

Jake had sent him to help you out of fear that you’d burn something while he stepped out to meet some girl.

“He makes good music.” you shrugged seemingly unaffected by the lewd lyrics. “Aren’t you here to help?”

He nodded.

“Load the pasta into the oven dish, please.” you instructed. “Then put cheese on top.”

Sunghoon picked up the cheese block.

“Where’s the cheese grater?”

You told him that you’d get it, purposely bending over in your miniskirt so that he’d get an eyeful of the way your panties clung to your puffy folds.

“Oh… got it.”

Turning around you saw that Sunghoon was clearly distressed, pinching the top of his nose bridge.

You passed the grater over, internally laughing at the way his body jolted when your hand brushed against his.

“Aww Hoonie..” you pouted. “Do you want my help?”

Not even waiting for a response, you squeezed his crotch.

A low groan left his throat watching you drop to your knees with his trousers and boxers.

You impatiently began to suck him off, revelling in the fact that his cock was just as pretty as him.

Sunghoon’s head fell back, knuckles paling at the pressure of him gripping the counter.

“That feels so good.” he praised.

Sunghoon was big, too big even.

You swirled your fist at the parts you couldn’t reach and suckled on his tip, the praise doing something to you. Spurring you on to make him feel good.

“You shouldn’t be doing this.” he moaned.

“But you like it.” you sat back onto your knees.

Something about the look in your eyes had him whimpering.

“I knew the old you was in there somewhere!” your smile widened as you took him into your mouth again.

“Why are you still on that?” he seethed.

His long fingers scratched at your scalp, guiding your head off and on him. The vibrations of your gags had his knees buckling.

Sunghoon experimentally pushed your head fully onto his length. Your nose begged for air, buried in his abdomen and your throat constricted, feeling his dick push past your uvula.

“Come on, yn.” he coaxed. “Take it all.”

Tears streamed down your face, drool seeping out of the corners of your mouth.

“I’m so close, keep your throat open.” he groaned.

“Yn!” Jake shouted from the front door.

You slid off Sunghoon with a cough, scrambling to grab a tissue, wiping your tears and drool away as he pulled up his pants before running to the downstairs bathroom.

“Is dinner ready?” Jake asked poking his head into the kitchen.

“Just need to put it in the oven.” you croaked out.

“Cool, gonna play a game! Send Hoon my way when he comes back..”

Dinner was just like the day before except this time you and Sunghoon both couldn’t make eye contact yet Jake still waffled on.

The air felt thick even for you, trying your hardest to give Jake enthusiastic answers so he wouldn’t suspect anything.

You jumped up and down in happiness when he told you that he would clean the dishes so you could relax, dashing up to your room to get rid of your own problem.

The next few hours passed by rapidly as you tried time and time again to get yourself off, still throbbing from having Sunghoon in your mouth, but nothing was working.

“Ugh!” a quiet groan left your throat.

Your hands reached for the phone on your bedside table immediately clicking on Sunoo’s contact.

You: fuck i’m so horny

You: tried getting off but it won’t work

Sunoo: u want me to come over ??

You contemplated taking up his offer.

You: that’d take too long

Sunoo: is park over ??

You: yh.. i uh kinda sucked him off earlier

Sunoo: yeah I am NOT contracting an std

You: fuck you 😭😭😭

Sunoo: js send him a nude?? or smth 🫡

You: UGH ILY THANKS

You slipped on a thin nightgown, purposely pushing your chest upwards letting your hardened nipples peek through, taking a picture then taking another of your dripping pussy.

Fingers swiftly moving onto his contact, you pressed on the chat.

[1,000 from yn💋]

Sunghoon: so you had money the whole time..

Yn: [2 pictures attached] can you help me…?

seen

Sunghoon wasted no time in stumbling over to your room. Sending explicit pictures to him while he was staying in your brothers room was very insane.

He didn’t even knock on the door, storming in them locking it quietly after he got in.

“You can’t keep doing this.” he shook his head.

You gave him the best innocent look you could muster.

“Do what? What did I do, Hoonie?”

He ran a hand down his face, immediately losing all composure.

“Stand up.” he demanded.

You complied immediately. Yes, Sunghoon had shown his anger through badly timed outbursts but in that moment he seemed furious.

“You can’t keep trying to make me jealous.” he continued. “You don’t understand!”

“But-”

“You’re all I can think about anymore. I wake up and you’re there, I go to sleep and you’re in my dreams!” he whisper shouted, clearly being tormented by his own thoughts. “Sometimes I just can’t stand you but being away from you was absolute hell for me. Trust me, I am also trying to understand how this shit happened.”

“Hoon-”

“Please.” he begged. “Please just let me finish.”

He took a step forward, cradling your head in his hands.

“For years, I have been infatuated with you. Forced to watch from a distance so that I wouldn’t lose you and Jake.” he shook his head. “There really isn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for you. I..”

You placed your hands on top of his significantly larger ones.

“Hoon, what are you trying to say?” you pushed.

He closed his eyes in pain.

“Don’t make me say it.” he frowned. “If I say it, we can’t go back to how we were.”

“I think I love you.” you teared up.

His head whipped up. “What?”

“Sunghoon, I love you.” you repeated firmly.

You’d always wanted Sunghoon since the day you laid eyes on him, but his words put a new perspective into your head. Is this why you were jealous of anyone that got close to him? Is it why you very harshly cut off Yujin? Is it why you felt butterflies every time he was around?

You had let your lust cloud your original feelings for Sunghoon, letting him believe that you only wanted him for sex because you knew that you could never have him romantically.

Sunghoon truly was out of your league. He was genuinely kind and a respcted person. He was everything that you couldn’t be. But none of that mattered when he pressed his lips against yours.

Pent up emotions of the past 10 years released as you kissed back just as passionately. Kissing Sunghoon with as much angst and love as he gave.

You never ever opened your eyes while kissing someone else, but you peeked an eye open to see what he looked like up close.

The perfect mole on his nose, his thick furrowed brows and perfect hair.

He kept his eyes closed for a few moments after you pulled away, taking in the feeling.

“Hoonie.” you called out. “I want you.”

Sunghoon complied, throwing you onto your bed and getting comfortable between your legs.

You attached your lips onto his as he rutted his hips against your warm heat.

From when you sucked him off earlier you already knew he was big, but feeling his so close had you gasping.

“Shhh.” he whispered. “Keep it quiet baby, we can’t let Jake hear.”

Shit. Jake. You hoped that he just wouldn’t wake up or else you’d both be out the house till your parents came back.

Your head bobbled in response.

“Sunghoon,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Hearing you moan his name had his pushing a particularly harsh thrust into you.

“Fuck. Where do you keep the condoms?”

He got off you briefly, taking the time to strip himself as you bent to reach into your desk drawer.

You jolted forwards as his palm made contact with your ass, impatiently begging you to hurry up.

Letting him roll the plastic on while you stripped down had you feeling a little scared. Being naked under his watchful eye was nothing like sending him a nude because you had to witness his reaction firsthand.

“You’re so beautiful.” he repeated, kissing up and down your body.

“Sunghoon please.” you whined.

Pushing your legs into your body, he lined himself up.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay.” he nodded.

You wrapped a leg around his waist, pushing him into you, drooling at the delicious stretch he gave you.

“Fuck, I can’t.” he groaned into your neck, lapping at your skin, flicking his tongue onto the bruises he formed. “Your legs are shaking so much.”

He wasn’t wrong, this was the fastest you’d ever come close to orgasming instantly and he hadn’t even moved yet.

Two thrusts in and you were clamping down on his dick, mouth covered to muffle the string of moans leaving your throat.

“Oh my, I’m cumming. Fuck.” Sunghoon twitched as he groaned lowly in your ear. “Pussy so good, tight, fuck! I’ve never come this fast.”

You didn’t know if he was talking out of his ass but the fact that he wasn’t ashamed did things to you.

Once you’d both recovered, you realised he was still fully hard and that turned you on even more.

“I want more.” you begged. “Please give me more.”

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” he groped at your chest. “Where do you want me?”

You guided him to lie down near your pillows, discarding the condom before hovering your dripping core over his length.

“I want you raw.” you whined. “I’m on the pill, please.”

Sunghoon closed his eyes again.

“Please.” he begged. “Shit. Never thought i’d hear you say that.”

Your legs burned as you sat down feeling the burn ten times more in the new position.

“You’re so big, so big Hoonie.” you babbled.

He could see that you were struggling to bounce yourself so he sat up and guided your hips in time with his thrusts.

“Do you feel me here, baby?” he pressed the spot where his tip poked into your your lower abdomen, both moaning at the feeling.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, I can’t.” you cried.

This time around it felt so much more intense, the intimacy was off the charts as he forced you to look into his eyes. Tears were fully streaming down your face at the overwhelming pleasure.

“Don’t you wanna make me proud?” he frowned. “Doesn’t my little slut want me to fill her up? Give her my baby?”

His words had you moaning louder and louder causing him to kiss away the noise.

He smacked your ass harshly.

“Quiet pretty, you don’t want Jake to hear? Do you?” he growled.

You shook your head, falling into his embrace.

The squelch of your juices and the repeated slam of the bed against the wall made you realise that Jake probably already knew what was going on.

Your teeth dug into Sunghoon’s shoulder determined to keep quiet.

“I’m so close..” you sobbed. “Please can I cum?”

He lifted your head, forcing you to look at him.

“Of course, baby.” he groaned. “Let go for me.”

Your eyes rolled back, body going limp as the orgasm ran through you.

Sunghoon came after a few thrusts, filling you up to the brim.

He rubbed your back, waiting for you to come back to him.

But you just couldn’t stop crying, tears rolling down his collarbone.

“Yn?” he inspected your face. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” you sobbed, palms digging into your eyes. “Sorry that I was so mean to you just because I couldn’t control my feelings.”

He clicked his tongue, fingers tracing up and down your arms to soothe you.

“It’s not like I was an angel either.” he sighed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t come to me.”

His lips pressed a soft kiss to your temple, bringing you into his embrace.

“I love you, Yn.” he whispered. “I think I always have.”

You gripped onto him a little tighter at his words, checking to see if the moment was real.

“Can you stay here?” you looked up at him with glassy eyes. “Please. I know that Jake-”

“Yeah, of course.” he relaxed. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

Over the next few days, you and Sunghoon had fucked like rabbits. Nowhere was safe, not your dad’s office, the living room, dining room, Jake’s bathroom, the outdoor AND indoor pool, even Sunghoon’s own room had been attacked.

You’d almost been caught by Jake on a few occasions but he still seemed to be oblivious. He didn’t even notice when Sunghoon fingered you under the table at a very public restaurant.

Maybe he was pretending, you just didn’t care. Sunghoon was way too good to give up, even for your beloved brother.

Now it was the night of Heeseung’s birthday party.

You hadn’t seen Sunghoon since he left your room that morning to go shopping with Jake and you were experiencing withdrawals.

The two of you had spoken about boundaries, with the impending doom of your parents coming back the next day but for now you wanted to have him as much as you could.

“So, you’re telling me that while I was on the phone with you, he was quite literally eating your out?” Kazhua grimaced. “You two are perfect for each other.”

You laughed swatting at her arm in fake offence.

“Uh oh….” Sunoo pursed his lips.

The three of you looked in the direction he was facing, watching as Yujin felt up and down Sunghoon’s buff arms, Jake and Heeseung looking away awkwardly.

“Yn! Wait!” Kazhua called after you but you were already storming over.

You pushed Yujin out of the way causing her to stumble and placed yourself in front of Sunghoon.

“Woah, Yn..” Jake laughed.

“Can we talk?” you asked Sunghoon.

“Well.. I’m with my friends right now..”

You forcefully grabbed his arm, dragging him outside not stopping till you got to his car.

The cold summer breeze nipped your shoulders, sending shivers down your spine.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you seethed. “Letting her touch all up on you when you know how I feel!”

Sunghoon just leant forward and kissed you.

You pushed him away, flustered.

“Hey!” you whisper shouted. “What if Jake just came outside right now?!”

“Shhh..” he laughed. “Come here then.”

He pulled his keys out of his pocket, and got into the drivers seat, patting his lap.

If you had checked your surroundings before you hesitantly got in then you would’ve noticed Riki, your brothers minion, dashing off to find Jake.

Sunghoon pushed your hips down onto his so you could feel him.

“This is how you make me feel.” he moaned, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Fuck.” you moaned. “I’m still mad at you though.”

“Take it out on me, pretty.”

Your lips attacked his neck, leaving as many marks as possible, you wanted everyone to see that Sunghoon was clearly taken.

He pulled his dick out of his pants, rubbing it along the slick of your panties.

You smacked his hand away, pulled your panties to the side and suck down onto him by guiding yourself.

Tears threatened to spill, body already covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Sunghoon wrapped his arms around your waist, thrusting up into you rapidly.

The whole car shook while the windows fogged up.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Hoonie, faster please!” you moaned.

“You think you can run your mouth whenever you feel like it, huh pretty?” he seemed to go even faster.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, nails digging into his biceps for stability.

“Oh you’re sorry? Prove it.” he growled. “Scream my name.”

“Hoon.” you whimpered. “That’s too risky.”

“Hm.. that’s not what I asked.” he rubbed circles on your clit, going even deeper than before. “I know that you can be louder than that.”

Having him hit the spot time and time again was sending you over the edge, you lost all composure the second he started sucking on your sweet spot.

“Sunghoon, fuck. Ah, right there! Fuck Daddy, please go faster!” you screamed out.

“Daddy, huh?” he groaned. “Gonna make you feel so good princess.”

You cried out as he continued to thrust into you at a faster pace, skin slapping erotically.

“I’m gonna-”

He told you it was okay to let go.

“Fuck, look how much you came for me.” he moaned in admiration, feeling true bliss as your essence leaked down to his balls. “So good for me, baby.”

Static filled your ears as he came inside you, waves of fire burining through your limbs.

Sunghoon’s head hit the headrest and you slumped onto his body.

His fingers scratched at your scalp soothing you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked softly.

You nodded, too tired to respond.

“I need you to use your words, princess..”

Your lips pressed light kisses on his neck.

“I’d love to.” you sighed contentedly. “Can we stay like this for a bit?”

You felt him nod, head falling on top of yours.

Sleep almost overtook you but a knock on the window woke you right up.

“Sunghoooon.” Jake sang.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he whispered.

You immediately shot up, looking for something to cover your face.

“One second.” Sunghoon shouted back.

He gave you his jacket so that Jake wouldn’t notice your outfit as you slipped on a cap from the car and faced the other way.

“Can we talk through the window?” Sunghoon asked nervously.

“No…” Jake groaned. “Open it.”

Sunghoon reluctantly pushed the button, internally cursing when Jake claimed he’d been hit by a whiff of sex.

“What’s up, Jake. I’m kinda busy.”

“Yeah.. I can see.” he gestured towards you, believing that you were just some random Sunghoon decided to fuck. “Have you seen my sister?”

He felt you tense beneath him.

“Um.. no.” Sunghoon shrugged. “I haven’t seen your sister.”

Riki walked out from behind Jake.

“He’s lying!” Riki shook his head. “That’s your sister, right there!”

Jake looked at him in disbelief, finally noticing that the girls hair looked a lot like yours.

Sunghoon tried to swat his hand away when he reached in to take your hat but failed miserably.

“Oh my…” Jake stumbled back.

Your head slowly turned to face him, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Hey, Jakey.”

“Oh my.”

He tried to grab you and pull you out of the car but the loudest whine left your mouth.

“You’re balls deep in my SISTER?!” Jake was furious. “My sister? My little sister!”

The two of you flinched.

“Fucking hell, Sunghoon! You could’ve had anyone else! She’s off limits!” Jake frowned. “Forbidden even!”

“Jake you don’t need to-” you started.

“You shut it.” he shook his head. “Both of you get decent and get out.”

Sunghoon rolled the window up so you could have privacy as you lifted your body off his, cum spilling out while he cleaned you up.

“Riks you can go now.” Jake dismissed the boy who had a smirk on his face.

You and Sunghoon stood infront of Jake, silently taking the verbal beating.

“We’re going home now.”

“I’ll drop her off.” Sunghoon stood his ground.

You pleaded with your eyes to get Jake to agree.

“Fine.”

You couldn’t help but laugh on the drive home.

“That was seriously bad timing.” you sighed, spotting Jake outside the door of your house, waiting for you.

Sunghoon got out first, opening the door for you.

You pulled him in and kissed him goodbye, ignoring Jake’s gags in the background.

“Come over for dinner tomorrow.” you pleaded. “Mother wants you there. So do I.”

“Okay.. I’ll be there.” he smiled. “If Jake tries to hit me though, I am swinging back.”

Jake cleared his throat loudly.

You said your goodbyes to Sunghoon as he watched Jake wrap an arm around you and guide you into the house but not leaving before throwing a middle finger up at him.

“So unnecessary.” Sunghoon sighed.

Sunghoon and Jake didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were arguing.

When your dad had told them to set the table together they argued in hushed whispers, fighting over forks.

Even your eldest brother, Noah could tell that something was up, he’d come home and intended to stay for a week after not being around for a whole year.

“Sunghoon?” you mother asked plating up caviar. “Has your mother said yes to the trip?”

Sunghoon nodded in response.

Right the trip. Your parents announced that they were taking you all to Greece, Noah was just there for the free holiday.

“You’re a leech, get a job.” you poked at him.

“Med school is kicking my butt, and who’s gonna pass up a free holiday?” he shoved you back.

“Yn.. you don’t have a job yourself either..” your father teased.

“She doesn’t need a job, I’ve got her.” Sunghoon caressed your shoulder.

Jake began to hysterically gag.

“Stop being so dramatic.” you sneered, body relaxing as Sunghoon rested his palm on your knee.

Everything was going well, Jake and Sunghoon didn’t interact and your parents didn’t pick up on a thing.

Sunghoon tried Foie Gras, he didn’t like it and begged you to let him go to a fast food restaurant but other than that he was enjoying himself.

That was until Jake dropped his fork under the table and noticed how shamelessly close the two of you were under the table.

“Oh my I’m gonna throw up.” he cried out.

“What now, Jake?” Noah sighed.

Jake leaned over the table to whisper at you and Sunghoon.

“Footsies under the table is fucking disgusting.” he sneered.

“What are you talking about?” Sunghoon frowned.

“UGH!” Jake shouted.

“Jaeyun Sim.” you mother scolded. “Sit down.”

“Mumma, no!” he whined. “Those two were fucking behind my back!”

Your dad choked on his wine as you dropped his fork.

“I mean we all thought it was gonna happen soon..” Noah trailed off.

“What?” Sunghoon raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean by all?”

Your mother ran round to the other side of the table, pulling you and Sunghoon into a hug.

“Aww my baby is growing up!” she wailed. “Who better to bring into the family than Sunghoon!”

Your dad shook Sunghoon’s hand.

“Careful with that one.” he joked. “She’s a handful.”

“You’re supposed to be on MY side!” Jake glared. “I found out that my best friend is sleeping with-”

“Dating.” your boyfriend corrected.

“Ew!” Jake shivered. “My little sister, my baby sister who I tried SO hard to protect from the men of this world.”

“Even I don’t care this much, Jake?” Noah snickered.

Jake stormed off to his room and slammed the door.

Despite having ups and downs with your brother you truly did love him. Seeing how much he hated the situation made you feel sorry for your actions.

“He’ll come around.” your dad assured.

You waited until the table was cleared to go bring Jake the rest of his food.

“Can I come in?” you asked softly.

He grumbled.

His figure lay on his bed, playing catch with a ball.

“What do you want?” he mumbled.

You placed the food on his desk and sat next to him, ignoring how he aimed the ball at your head.

“Jakey.” you started. “Why are you so against me being with Sunghoon?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I knew him first.”

“Yeah but..” you had to take a deep breath to stop yourself from crying. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I‘m not mad.”

“Right.” you pursed your lips together. “I just wanted you to know that I really do love Sunghoon and that he loves me and I just want us all to be happy..”

A tear slipped out of your eye.

He sighed.

“Yeah, I get that. It’s just..” he wiped the tears that ran down. “He’s my best friend and you’re my little sister, if anyone hurts you i’d naturally have to go after them.. I just can’t bring myself to do that to Sunghoon. I love you both too much..”

Now you were both crying.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” you laughed through your tears.

“I thought that if I delayed the conversation it wouldn’t have to happen.” he smiled sadly. “But i’m not mad, I really am happy for you.. change just isn’t my strong suit.”

“He isn’t lying.” Sunghoon laughed from the doorway. “He’s couldn’t sleep for two months when we first got to uni. Claimed it was nerves but I think he just missed you too much.”

You pulled Jake into a hug, both sobbing gently.

Jake grabbed Sunghoon, pulling him in.

“You’re both so emotional.” he whispered, letting you both cry on his shoulders.

“Yeah well, you have to deal with this forever because you’re not leaving now.” you cried.

“I wouldn’t even dare.” he smiled.

THE END.

#sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enha smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut

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moonlightwritingf1 · 1 month ago

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The Ultimate Distraction | LN4

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando, a new couple just a month into their relationship, are still exploring the exciting depths of their connection, both emotionally and physically. While visiting Lando’s apartment in Monaco, Y/N finds herself craving his attention late one night as he’s absorbed in a gaming session in the room next to his bedroom. Unable to resist her desire, she decides to surprise him by slipping under his desk.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 word count ━━━━━━━ 1.5k

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The soft glow of Lando’s gaming monitor cast shadows across the room, illuminating his focused expression as his fingers danced over the keyboard. He was in the zone, his racing game demanding every ounce of his attention. The hum of the PC and the occasional click of the mouse were the only sounds breaking the silence of the late Monaco night.

Y/n lay in bed just a room away, staring at the ceiling. He’s been at it for hours, she thought, her pulse quickening with a mix of frustration and desire. She had tried to distract herself, scrolling through her phone, reading a book, even attempting to sleep. But the memory of Lando’s hands on her skin, the way he whispered her name when they were alone together, kept pulling her back.

She shifted in bed, feeling the heat building between her thighs. I want him. The thought was insistent, almost maddening. She glanced at the clock—it was past midnight. And there he was, still glued to his PC, oblivious to the world outside his screen.

Enough waiting.

With a determined breath, Y/n slipped out of bed, her bare feet padding softly across the cool floor. She wore nothing but one of Lando’s oversized t-shirts, the fabric brushing against her thighs as she moved toward his room. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from nervousness, but from anticipation. She knew exactly what she wanted.

Lando didn’t notice her at first, too engrossed in his game. His headset blocked out any sound, his eyes locked on the monitor as he navigated a tricky corner on the virtual track. Y/n paused in the doorway, watching him for a moment. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, the faint scruff on his jaw, the way his lips twitched into a small smirk when he nailed a perfect drift—it all stirred something deep inside her.

He’s so hot when he’s focused like this.

Without a word, she dropped to her knees and crawled under his desk, the space cramped but manageable. Lando’s legs were bracketed by the chair, his jeans-clad thighs inches from her face. She could smell his cologne, subtle but intoxicating, mingling with the faint musk of his body. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the button of his jeans, her breath hitching when she felt the warmth radiating from him.

Lando froze mid-game, his hand hovering over the mouse. “What the—” he started, his voice muffled by the headset. He leaned back slightly, trying to peer under the desk. “Y/n? What are you doing?”

She looked up at him, her eyes glinting with mischief in the dim light. “Shh,” she whispered, pressing a finger to her lips. “Keep playing.”

“Wait, what?” he stammered, his voice higher than usual. But before he could protest further, Y/n undid his jeans and pulled them down just enough to free his hardening length. Her warm breath ghosted over his skin, and Lando’s breath hitched.

“Jesus, Y/n,” he muttered, his grip tightening on the edge of the desk. But instead of stopping her, he found himself unable to move, trapped between shock and arousal.

Y/n didn’t give him time to think. She leaned forward, her lips wrapping around him in one smooth motion. Lando let out a strangled groan, his head falling back against the chair. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hips jerking involuntarily.

But Y/n wasn’t done teasing him. She pulled back slowly, her tongue tracing the sensitive underside of his shaft before taking him into her mouth again, deeper this time. Her hand wrapped around the base, stroking in tandem with her mouth, each movement deliberate and unhurried.

“Y/n, I can’t—” Lando started, his voice strained. He fumbled for the headset, tugging it off and letting it dangle around his neck. “You’re going to make me lose.”

“Then don’t lose,” she murmured, her lips still pressed against him. She gazed up at him through her lashes, her eyes dark with desire. “Keep playing.”

Lando groaned, torn between the game and the woman currently driving him out of his mind. His hand hovered over the keyboard, unsure whether to keep going or surrender completely. But Y/n’s insistence was impossible to ignore. With a shaky breath, he turned his attention back to the screen, his fingers trembling slightly as they resumed their position.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. If anything, he sounded wrecked already.

Y/n smirked, her lips curving around him as she picked up the pace. Her tongue swirled around the tip, eliciting another sharp intake of breath from Lando. She could feel him struggling to focus, his movements on the keyboard growing sloppier with each passing second.

“Concentrate,” she teased, her voice low and sultry. “Unless you want to crash.”

Lando gritted his teeth, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the desk. “You’re making this fucking impossible,” he growled, though his resolve was clearly crumbling.

She hummed in response, the vibration sending a thrill through him. Her hand tightened around his shaft, her strokes becoming faster, more insistent. Lando’s breathing grew ragged, his concentration shattered as pleasure overwhelmed him.

“Y/n, I’m serious,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you don’t stop—”

She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she took him deeper, her throat relaxing to accommodate him. Lando swore under his breath, his hips bucking instinctively. The controller slipped from his grasp, clattering onto the desk as he reached for her hair, tangling his fingers in the strands.

“Fuck the game,” he muttered, his voice rough with need. But Y/n pulled back, her lips slick and swollen as she looked up at him with a mischievous grin.

“No,” she said firmly. “You’re not quitting. Not yet.”

She leaned forward again, this time flicking her tongue against the sensitive spot just beneath the head, eliciting a shuddering moan from Lando. Her hand moved in sync with her mouth, her strokes deliberate and slow, dragging him closer to the edge without letting him fall.

“Y/n,” he gasped, his free hand clutching at the armrest of his chair. “I can’t—you’re killing me.”

She ignored his plea, her focus entirely on him. Her lips sealed around him once more, her tongue swirling as she took him deeper, pushing herself further than before. Lando’s breath came in short, sharp bursts, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to maintain control.

On the screen, his car veered off the track, spinning out in a cloud of virtual dust. Lando didn’t even notice, too consumed by the sensations coursing through him. His fingers clenched in her hair, gently guiding her movements, urging her to take him even deeper.

“So good,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “God, you’re so fucking good at this.”

Y/n responded by hollowing her cheeks, the suction intensifying as she increased the pressure. Her hand moved faster, matching the rhythm of her mouth, every stroke bringing him closer to the edge. She could feel him trembling beneath her, his thighs tense, his breath hitching with every pass of her tongue.

“Y/n, I’m close,” he warned, his voice strained. “Too close.”

But instead of pulling back, she doubled down, her mouth working him with relentless precision. Her other hand reached up to fondle him, her fingers grazing over sensitive flesh, pressing against him in just the right way. Lando’s grip on her hair tightened, his body tensing as pleasure coiled tightly in his core.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking upward, unable to hold back any longer. “Y/n, I—”

She didn’t let him finish. Her mouth enveloped him completely, swallowing him as he finally gave in to the overwhelming sensation, waves of pleasure crashing over him. His entire body stiffened, his release spilling into her waiting mouth, each pulse accompanied by a choked gasp from his lips.

For a moment, everything was still, the only sound in the room Lando’s ragged breathing as he slumped back in his chair, utterly spent. Y/n pulled back slowly, her lips brushing against him one last time before she settled back on her heels, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

“Told you,” she said softly, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “You didn’t have to stop playing.”

Lando stared at her, his chest still heaving, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. “You’re unbelievable,” he finally managed, his voice hoarse. He reached for her, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped her cheek. “Come here.”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes locking with his, before crawling out from under the desk and standing up. Lando wasted no time, pulling her into his lap and capturing her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His hands roamed over her body, eager to return the favor, to show her just how much she affected him.

But Y/n pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss with a soft laugh. “Not yet,” she whispered, her fingers trailing down his chest. “You still haven’t finished your race.”

He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, though there was no real malice in his tone.

She smirked, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Then consider me your favorite executioner.”

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beloveds-embrace · 15 days ago

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(a series in which you are a witch living in the woods, and a group of knights have decided to keep you safe and sound in exchange for kisses and charms.)

Ghost’s visits were fleeting, much like the twilight shadows that crept through the trees. They always came without warning, as if the man himself was more a part of the forest than even you, slipping between the cracks of the day unnoticed. Tonight was no different. The wards surrounding your cottage buzzed softly, recognizing his familiar energy, and you opened the door before he could knock.

His broad figure filled the frame, his skull mask catching the faint glow of the firelight spilling from within. Shadows danced across the painted bone, but you didn’t flinch.

You never did. Never felt or had to.

“I wasn’t expecting you tonight.” You said, stepping aside to let him in.

He ducked through the doorway, gloved hands reaching into his coat to retrieve a worn leather pouch. The door closed quietly on its own behind him, glimmering faintly. “Had time. Thought you could use this.”

He handed you the pouch, and the faint scent of crushed lavender and sage wafted from it. Behind you, empty bottles clinked and tapped their way into a neat row on the counter.

“Perfect for cleansing rituals,” you said, smiling as you took it. “Thank you, Simon.”

At the sound of his name, he stilled- even though he had told you to call him that himself, so long ago. The moment passed, and he watched in silence as you began sorting the herbs, your hands deft and practiced and your magic humming in the air.

“You haven’t been visiting as much,” you noted, glancing up briefly to flash him another smile. “Been busy?”

“Always.” He replied simply, leaning against the wall. His eyes tracked your movements, the fluidity and familiarity with with you did everything. It was comforting.

“You should sit.”

“I’m fine standing.”

You shook your head but didn’t argue, instead reaching for a small carved charm resting on your workbench. The rune, etched into a piece of bone, pulsed faintly with a soft, protective glow- magic you had infused into it over several nights. It was a good thing he came by when he did.

“This is for you,” you said, stepping closer and holding it out. “It’s for the nightmares. To keep them at bay.”

Ghost hesitated for a moment before taking it, his fingers brushing yours. He studied the charm, turning it over in his hands. The silence stretched, but it was never uncomfortable with him.

“Thank you.” He said finally, quiet but no less sincere.

“You’ve been sleeping poorly again, even aside from the nightmares.” You observed gently, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

He didn’t answer directly, but the slight tightening of his posture was answer enough.

“I’ll make you something stronger,” you offered, already moving toward the shelves where you kept your jars of herbs and oils. “A dream salve to help you find peace.”

“You do too much, witch.” He muttered, rough and yet carrying an undertone of warmth.

“This is how I protect you,” you replied, grinding dried lavender and valerian root in a mortar. “You all keep me safe in ways I could never repay, Simon. This is the least I can do.”

He stayed quiet, watching as you lit a candle and whispered an incantation over the mixture. The flame flickered unnaturally for a moment, the salve glowing faintly before settling into a calm, soothing scent.

When you handed him the small jar, he tucked it into his pocket alongside the charm. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

“You’ve got a way of making this place feel untouched,” he huffed at last. “Like the world out there doesn’t exist.”

“It’s the wards,” you grinned, pride flickering. “And maybe a little bit of you all, too.”

His jaw tightened slightly, and he glanced toward the door. “Speaking of the world out there…”

You followed his gaze, the faint hum of unease settling in your chest and chasing away the pride. “What is it?”

“Had to deal with something on my way here,” he admitted, grumbling darkly. “The crown’s men were sniffing around the edge of the forest. Heard rumors of a ‘witch’ living out here.”

Your stomach dropped, and you gripped the edge of your workbench. “How close did they get?”

“Not close enough,” Ghost said firmly. “I made sure they wouldn’t come any nearer. A few whispers about cursed woods and unnatural shadows should keep them away for now, and they have no reason to doubt me.”

He didn’t elaborate, but you could imagine it: the sight of him emerging from the trees, his skull mask illuminated by the dying light of day, his voice low and threatening. He didn’t need magic to make men tremble- his presence alone was enough. Especially for those who heard about him.

“Thank you, Simon.” You breathed out softly, your voice laced with genuine gratitude. Your heart began to calm down from the way it’d started thudding before.

“I’ll keep them off your trail,” he continued, tone leaving no room for doubt. Carefully, he reached to hold your cheek in his hand for just a few seconds that felt much longer. “Price has a system in place, but if anyone gets too curious, I’ll handle it.”

You stepped closer, reaching up to brush your fingers against the edge of his mask. “I don’t know what I’d do without you all.”

“You’ll never have to find out.”

Before he left, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to the edge of his mask. The cold material brushed your lips, and for a moment, he softened.

“Be safe out there, Simon.” You whispered.

He nodded, stepping into the shadows beyond your door. As the forest swallowed him, the wards around your home shimmered faintly, strengthened by the presence of the man who had once again ensured your safety.

You returned inside, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air, and whispered a quiet spell of thanks- one more layer of protection for the man who guarded your hidden sanctuary.

Witch of the Woods Masterlist | John Price

#noona.writes #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x you #tf 141 #cod imagines #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #noona.posts #simon

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nightmare-niko · 4 months ago

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Routines In The Night [Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader]

Warnings: alcohol consumption, vague-ish descriptions of clubbing, raw sex (don't do that), completely self-indulgent

A/n: i am just a girl and i cannot help the things my mind comes up with. also this is my first actual smut in years so lmk how I did hehehe

Word count: 2273

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

It's been quite a long time since you went out with your friends. Life gets in the way sometimes! But tonight, the stars have aligned, and all of your schedules lined up perfectly. You don’t remember being this excited to see your friends, but now you all were in your apartment getting ready for your night out.

"So I don’t know when the boys are gonna get here-“ your best friend; Violet sits on your bedroom floor, curling her hair. “But I think Evan said something about bringing a new friend?”

“Violet you can't just let strangers hang with us! What if he's a weirdo?!" You’re mostly joking. You knew your friends. Realistically you had nothing to worry about.

“What if he’s ugly?” your other Friend interjects.

“Oh my god! Hayley!” Violet chokes out a surprised laugh.

“What it’s a valid question!” She defends.

"I'm sure he will be completely normal." You try to expel the chaos beginning to build throughout your small apartment while the three of you continue to get ready.

•

An excessive amount of knocks on your door makes you jump.

You grumble obscenities on the way to open your door. "You know Evan- You don't have to—“ you stop in your tracks. Sure, there was Evan and your other friend Mike, but there was also a new guy—a beautiful guy. Was it suddenly getting hot in here??

"Oh okay drool much?" Evan jokes and you snap out of your man-induced trance.

“Hi, I'm Nick" he offers his hand for you to shake.

Your hand is quite small compared to his, but unlike most guys you’ve met, his hand is gentle. He certainly isn't trying to crush your hand (why do guys do that?). As the other guys walk into your apartment, Nicholas stays in your doorway with you as you introduce yourself,

“Come in! You have to meet the others!" You take his hand and lead him into your living room.

•

The music was loud, the air was hot, and the lights pulsed and changed erratically. You danced along to whatever generic set the DJ played, you honestly were too drunk to care. This is what you needed. While you and your girls danced carelessly with each other, the guys stayed back at your table.

All of them seemed pretty caught up in their drunken conversations. Not Nicholas though, no. His eyes had been on you the second you clambered onto the dance floor. You loved it.

You felt Violet's arm wrap around your waist, "are you gonna deal with that? " She borderline shouts in your ear to combat the loud music. "Who? Pretty boy over there?" You lock eyes with Nick across the room, he quickly looks away—taking a sip of his drink. "Maybe... you think you can get Hayley distracted so I can lure him ?"

She giggles and pulls away; you don't care how Violet was planning on making distance-- but you trusted her. With a sensual sway of your hips, you walk over to Nicholas. None of your other friends seem to notice your presence, not that you mind though.

"So, you gonna keep on staring or are you gonna dance with me?"

The man before you smirks, he takes you in quickly, "How about both?" He offers his hand to you. You take it gratuitously, even in your heels he had height over you. It was hot. Maybe it was the lights or the alcohol in your system-- or maybe both, but you had to have him.

To say the two of you were dancing was a stretch, to say the least… You wrap your arms around his neck, you were so not remembering this tomorrow at the rate you were going.

“How long were you going to sit there staring at me for?” Your question was light-hearted at best.

"Until I was blackout probably," He laughs shyly.

You laugh along with him, grinding along to the beat of the music, you could live this moment forever. "Usually everyone comes back to mine and sleeps over after clubbing. You down?”

He smiles, "Sure, why not.”

•

Somehow you managed to get all of your drunk friends back to your home safely. Now all you had to do was (try to) relax, you sneak away from all of your friends and into your bedroom.

It took you longer than usual to remove your makeup and change into your pajamas due to the drinks you had tonight, but you managed.

What time was it? You didn't know, your phone was dead!

Back in your living room, your friends lay sleeping (?) scattered around Violet and Hayley both still in their makeup and heels. You didn't dare wake them, they knew where your makeup wipes and extra clothes were. All you needed was your bed.

•

4 am. It was 4 am and you were wide awake. Wide awake with a raging headache, that is. You groan before tugging off your oh-so-comfortable blanket. The hardwood floors were cold against your bare feet-but you didn't care.

Stumbling to the kitchen through the darkness of your home was a situation you found yourself often, but now you had the added addition of staying quiet. The last thing you needed was more hungover zombies.

The moonlight from your open windows lit up your kitchen counter just enough for you to grab the nearest pain relief medicine and a drink in peace. Now here came the hard part-- walking back in the dark. Why didn't you bring your phone?!

The door of the bathroom swings open-- you gasp dramatically. "Jesus Nick! You fucking scared me,” you whisper yell at the taller man.

"Sorry! I had to— uh I didn't think anyone was awake." He flicks off the light and steps closer to you.

The moonlight paints across Nicholas’ face in a way that has you speechless. "Well, uhm-are you -" You stumble over your words. "Do you need anything? A blanket? Water? I can see if there are sweatpants you can wear."

For a moment you think he's going to decline your offer-- “Actually, a blanket and sweats would be awesome… If you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all-- Here follow me.” You continue your path to your bedroom, only this time with the hottest man you've ever seen trailing behind you.

Inviting him into your room! What if he gets the wrong idea? (Is it the wrong idea if you really do wanna fuck?) "Sorry for the mess... You can sit on my bed while I look." You awkwardly point at your bed as if its location wasn't obvious. "It's cute in here, very cozy." Nicholas takes in his surroundings— trying and failing to distract himself from your extremely short pajama shorts. "Thanks, here." You hand him some clothes leftover from friends, "Hope they fit." You hear him mutter a thanks before you go back to searching for a blanket. Why is he being so quiet? When you look over at him, he's staring: again. You bite back a laugh.

”You have quite the staring problem, you know?” You tease. He smiles something wicked, his dark brown eyes dark with want. Why stare when you can just shoot your shot?”

He throws his hands up in defense, "I mean hey, I made it this far!”

“Oh yeah- "You remark sarcastically, "Remind me what base ‘sitting on a hot girl's bed and staring at her ass’ is again?"

"Oh, so that's how we're playing it?" He stands up and takes one big step towards you

“That's how we're playing it.” You tease, standing up on your tippy toes to drape your arms over his shoulders.

His large hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. He hums in acknowledgment of your teasing. He was hard, you could feel him through his jeans.

How did you get into this situation? Were you complaining though?

No, not at alt. Nicholas' large hand cups your face sensually.

The Kiss was electric, not rough, but dominant. You didn't have the energy to fight for control, you just wanted him. Dazed, you pull back from the kiss. "I can't focus with you pressed against me like that." Your hands shoot from his neck to his belt buckle. “Bed, now." You demand, he quickly clambered onto your bed.

You pull his pants down to his ankles, and Nicholas kicks them the rest of the way down. Your heart racing as you follow him onto the bed, straddling his lap. His hands found their way to your hips, gripping them firmly as you leaned in for another heated kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" Nicholas whispered against your lips.

"Absolutely," you run your hands down his chest.

As things heated up between you two, a sudden noise from the living room made you both freeze. You remembered your friends sleeping just outside your bedroom door.

"We should keep it down," you giggled softly, pressing a finger to Nicholas' lips.

He nodded— a mischievous glint in his eyes. He presses a quick kiss into your lip and flips you onto your back. You find your eyes drifting down his torso, his cock tented in his boxers. You snap your eyes back up to his, the air thick with tension.

“Kiss me,” you beg, and he listens immediately. you tug on his bottom lip and he groans lowly. the position you were in made it impossible for you to not cross your ankles behind his back, pushing him against your throbbing core. You whimper, almost pathetic, but you couldn't care less about that right now.

You whine again, this time a desperate plea for more. “Mmm… Nick—please~” You beg against his lips.

“Tell me,” he commands. You whine again as his lip trail kisses along your neck, leaving marks at the base.

“More~” you manage to joke out.

“What do you want, beautiful? All you need to do is say it and I'll give it to you.” His voice is sultry against your ear, his breath leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Clothes. off,” you demand.

You hear him chuckle sensually, as he leans back on his haunches. You swear all time freezes as you watch Nicholas take off his shirt. He was already the most attractive person on the planet with his pants off, and now here he was. Towering over you in his underwear, while you still had all of your clothes on. That had to change, sit up briefly as Nicholas helps you take off your sleep shirt.

Nicholas kisses you again, pushing you back down onto your plush pillows. In the heat of your kiss, Nicholas takes off your sleep shorts and leans back— he groans at the sight before him.

“look at you~” he tuts, “all fucked out and I haven't even touched you yet.”

“Nick, please-” you whine, bucking your hips in the air, desperate for any kind of friction. “Don't tease!”

finally, Nicholas stands up from your bed. Pulling his boxers down his boxers, revealing his throbbing cock. The tip is red and angry— leaking with precum. your mouth watered just at the sight.

he climbs back over you and back in between your thighs. his hungry eyes, fixed on your core as he runs his tip over your clothed clit. you whimper again— just as you're about to open your mouth to complain, he pulls your panties to the side and pushes into you in one motion.

You bite down on your lip to try to conceal your moan but the noise that you make is still extremely loud. the stretch burned, but god it felt heavenly. Nicholas clashes his mouth back onto yours at an attempt to hush your sounds— not that he wanted to. He wanted the whole city to hear you, but all of your friends were in the next room and that was not a conversation he wanted to have.

The steady rock of his hips has you barreling quickly towards your orgasm. The kiss is sloppy and rough— you couldn't think of a better thing to be doing at 5 am. He trails wet kisses to the sweet spot below your ear, then to your neck and collarbone.

With one hand tightly gripped on your hip, he was close. You knew because his thrusts were getting sloppier and rougher. With one final bite of the base of your neck, he sits up— free hand rubbing circles on your clit as the new angle had him hitting right you needed him.

Your back arches off of your bed in a dramatic display as your orgasm takes over you— you swear you blacked out for a moment. Nick pulls out of you in a hurry, white ropes of cum paint your torso and face and he groans gutturally.

the once cold air in your bedroom was now hot. the only sound was the combined sounds of you and Nicholas trying to catch your breath. sleep takes over you as you feel Nick wiping the cum off you with whatever was nearby.

"So," Nicholas whispered, running his fingers through your hair, "does this mean I get stay here tonight?" he brought a clean blanket over your naked bodies.

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "If that's not what that means I have no idea what does."

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya

@lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings

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honeyhotteoks · 8 days ago

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₊ ⊹ ⟡ in the act (정윤호 ♡ j.yh)

you and yunho are roommates. he never comes home early, except for the one time he does and catches you in the middle of touching yourself and moaning his name.

style: bullet drabble

pairing: non idol!yunho x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

tags/warnings: smut, pwp, masturbation, porn, fingering, oral f receiving, lots of dirty talk, degradation / use of slut *affectionate*, praise, guided orgasm

notes: so enough people said they were interested in some bullet-style drabbles and smutty drafts for all the ideas i have but don’t turn into full fledged fics. this has been sitting on my computer since the start of me writing ateez fic… so you can think of this as a summer nights alternate version. please enjoy! more to come.

[masterlist]

You and Yunho have been roommates for almost a year, and he was a total stranger when you met him. He was looking for someone to take over his spare room after Yeosang moved out and in with his girlfriend, and you couldn’t afford rent on your own and begged him to take a chance on you.

Over the year you’ve become friends… slowly and steadily

But you’re not an idiot, he’s gorgeous and funny and charming and if you’re not careful you might get a crush on him (or have a crush already)

You’re also completely oblivious to the way he watches you. His eyes tracking you when you cross a room, lingering a little too long on the curve of your ass, the flash of cleavage when you bend over, even the soft cushion of your stomach when you wear tight clothes. He’s frankly trying to not be hard whenever you’re in the room.

It didn’t start out like that, it started out like normal roommates and despite how attractive you were, he wasn’t looking for anything. But then you were funny and clever and infuriating in all the right ways and he just…. can’t stop thinking about what you would look like riding his cock.

And then there was that one time he walked in on you in the shower.

But you had laughed that off, he had laughed that off, truly there was nothing to even talk about because he didn’t see anything it was just a funny accident.

Only he did see a little - and the image of your pert, dark nipples dripping with suds has been his tried and true mastubatory moment for months now.

So when he gets home from work a full three hours early and the apartment is suspiciously quiet, he thinks you probably just went out for a mid-day coffee or ran an errand.

What he doesn’t expect is to walk past your bedroom, with the door wide open, and see you spread out in the center of your perfectly made bed with hand under your panties and your t-shirt pushed up high enough to expose one breast, your head thrown back and your eyes shut tight as you rub yourself, hips jerking into your hand.

You have headphones on, that’s the second thing he realizes, you have no idea he’s here.

And then you say it, a murmured pant of his name.

His cock stiffens up instantly and he jumps back from the doorway. He really didn’t mean to see so much or frankly wait so long to move away, but with the way you were panting, moaning softly, a blush over your chest…. the way he knows you’re thinking about him…. his brain admittedly stopped working for a second.

So he fakes coming home again, shutting the door harder than before and calling out into the apartment, trying to be loud enough that noise-cancelling headphones wouldn’t be enough to completely block out the announcement of his unexpected homecoming.

He drops his boots heavily, keeps talking into the apartment like he’s narrating his day, and then finally he hears the frantic sound of sheets and covers and your laptop snapping shut.

You sound so breathless when you respond, trying to make him believe you woke up from a nap but you can’t get up, you’re half naked and a mess and your door is open

And for a split second Yunho thinks of just giving you your space and letting this little incident pass by without notice, but he can’t because now he’s heard what his name on your lips sounds like and he needs to hear it again

So he shows up in your doorway and for a second he just teases - “How was your nap? Were you having a dream? You look flushed,”

But finally after stuttered attempts at recovery and clenching your thighs together under the covers he just says it - “So, you’re going to stick with the lie? Or are you ready to admit you were masturbating and moaning my name in the middle of the day?”

For a few moments it’s like a stand off… you don’t know how much he saw or what to admit to or if it’s better to laugh it off and tell him he’s hearing things….

But then - “You could have just asked me for help,” he says, a teasing smile on his lips, “but I’m here now,”

And it starts off tentative, Yunho peeling back the covers to get a good look at your body once you tell him you want him, and he doesn’t hide how hard this is getting him at all.

He’s vocal, verbal, and telling you every little thing he’s going to do to you, all the while teasing you for holding out on him so long.

“You must really want my cock if you’re crying out for it while you rub your slutty little clit, huh?”

“How long were you touching yourself? An hour? And you still couldn’t cum, but thirty seconds of my fingers and you’re squirming in the sheets? Oh, you are down bad,”

“Ride my fingers, pretty girl, show me what you like,”

And when you go dazed, dizzy and eyes rolling back at the feeling of his fingers rubbing you, pumping inside you, he snaps his fingers with his free hand - “Focus up, slut, you want to cum don’t you?”

Clenching on his fingers, slicking all over his hand

And he talks you through it when it hits you hard

“You gonna come for me? Yeah you are, that’s it, come on slut, come for me, so wet and messy knowing I caught you, so dirty, so pretty for me, there we go, come on,”

And you’re whining, begging him to get you there, so dizzy and aching

But the minute you start to cum he softens, praising how good you look, sounding so pleased and proud of you in a way that scratches your desperate subby brain just right

You need him to carry you through it, something you’d do yourself with ease, but he picks up on it immediately, watching your desperate, teary facial expression

“Oh, I got you,” He pumps his fingers deep, soothing you with his tone, “let go, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, good girl, that’s my girl,”

By the time you come out of it, it’s to Yunho’s kisses across your thighs, his hands spreading you open wide, “Gonna make you cum again, baby, you sound so good for me, so gorgeous for me,”

Your fingers laced in his hair

His hot tongue

Your aching, pulsing pussy brought to the absolute brink

And Yunho babbling into you as he eats at you, sucks you, kisses and caresses you -

“Wanted to do this for months,”

“Dying to touch you, baby,”

“Want you wrapped around my cock”

He takes you through two more heady orgasms before he kisses you on the mouth for the first time, before you find yourself both naked and rocking your bodies together

Need and pent up desire just taking you both under

Until you’re trembling in the afterglow, no more teasing now, only quiet confessions of how long you’ve both dreamt of this.

After that, you sleep in his bed every night.

#honeyhotteoks drabbles #ateez drabbles #ateez fic #ateez #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho fic #yunho drabble #yunho hard thoughts

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corkinavoid · 8 months ago

Text

DPxDC Danny's Strange Gifts to the Bats

So you know how it's common knowledge to not accept any gifts from the Fae? Well, even if the batfam knows about it - I mean, they've dealt with a lot of otherworldly stuff, besides, you shouldn't take things from strangers no matter if they are Fae or not - they might not always abide by it. Unknowingly.

The trick is that you never know if it's a gift or not when you're dealing with the fair folk.

So things start appearing in the Wayne manor. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. A book left on the table in the library, a vintage teacup in the kitchen drawer, a cat toy with some real bird feathers. No one pays them much attention. After all, when you live in a family this big, you don't really keep track of who brings home what.

The book was probably left by Jason. The teacup is most likely Alfred's new addition. The cat toy is totally Damian's. It's not the first time and surely not the last when one or another member of the flock brought something to the manor. The book is put on the shelf, the teacup is now Steph's favorite, and Alfred the cat really likes those feathers.

And then, one day, they all get down for breakfast. Damian is the first to appear, with Alfred the cat in his hands, then comes Dick, who stayed in the manor for the weekends, and Steph, who was here for the movie night and decided going home was too much work. Tim comes to the table with a tablet that is quickly put away the moment Alfred starts serving food. Bruce and Duke come the last, taking their seats, and it is almost like a signal for everyone to start eating. After all, everyone is here now. It is peaceful and quiet, a rare but not unwelcome occurrence that Bruce greatly appreciates.

That is, until a few minutes later, Damian appears in the doorway.

"Good morning," he greets, and everyone at the table freezes.

And then does a double take.

Damian is in the doorway.

Damian is also sitting in his seat, eating waffles, the only one who did not stop when the other Damian appeared.

There are two of them.

Damian-sitting-at-the-table looks up to Damian-standing-in-the-doorway and smiles. His face is stuffed with waffles.

"Goov movning, bvothev," he greets back, and before anyone else can react, Damian-in-the-doorway clicks his tongue.

"You are in my seat. Move."

"I don't see your name on it, therefore it is not yours," argues the other one, not moving from his place. Yet now, when everyone can see his eyes, they finally notice the difference. The one sitting at the table has blue eyes.

Tim all but jumps up from his seat, slamming his hands on the tabletop:

"You-" he nearly chokes on his words, when blie-eyed Damian looks at him, and then at everyone at the table with a confused frown.

"But I thought you liked the vintage films for your camera that I got you? And those four-leaved clovers?" He asks, looking almost hurt. The normal, green-eyed Damian looks thoroughly disappointed:

"Have you been accepting my brother's gifts, Drake? You're lucky they were not courtship gifts."

"Court-" Tim sputters in the middle of the word, looking between the two.

Bruce lets out a long, absolutely resigned sigh. Was it too much to ask for just one, single normal morning?..

Long story short, Danny, being a fae and also just generally a little shit, kept leaving gifts for Bats all over the manor, and they all unknowingly accepted them one way or another, so now Danny has the power to ask for something in return. He chooses to just come to the manor and dump the fact that he is going to live here on them at breakfast. Technically, he just ended the long line of gifts by giving the last one, himself.

| <-prev | next-> |

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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago

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wrapped around your finger | s.r.

in which you come home to find spencer in peak girl dad form

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, girldad!spencer, nail polish, this is technically the family from cryptic, but you don't need to read cryptic to know what's going on word count: 578 a/n: this is for the anon who asked for dad!spencer! i always have some dad!spencer on retainer for when the people are in need! it's nothing crazy, but i was cleaning up my desk and found a sticky note that said spencer would definitely let his daughter paint his nails.

A little voice carries itself from down the hallway, and you follow the sound of it. The carefully chosen words of your four-year-old daughter make you wonder who she could possibly be speaking to. Slowly, you walk down the hallway, trying not to alert anyone to your presence.

On your way, you peek into the nursery, your younger daughter sleeping soundly in her crib as you pass her, finally ending up at the doorway of Eleanor’s room, “Do you like the color?” She asks gently, holding her father’s hand in hers and inspecting his fingers.

“I love the color, thank you,” Spencer says politely, “You know, purple is my favorite color.”

The smile that blooms on her face is so bright, it makes you wish you’d never left the house in the first place. “Mommy told me!”

Nothing in all of the parenting books you’ve read prepared you for your firstborn to stop calling you mama. The switch had caught you off-guard, and you found yourself mourning the little girl she had been while simultaneously prideful of the personality that she was developing.

You’d have to keep better track of it with Olivia, though you and Spencer hadn’t come to a consensus on whether or not you were done after two kids. The sight in front of you might just be enough to convince you to go for a third.

Her princess tiara slides forward on her head as she focuses on painting Spencer’s nails, your husband sitting in a chair that’s comically small for him as her small hands deftly apply the lacquer.

Catching sight of you in his periphery, Spencer gives a soft smile in greeting, not wanting to alarm Eleanor of your appearance. “You’re really good at painting nails,” he observes, reaching his free hand up to adjust her crown.

“I wanna do it forever and ever,” she responds giddily, putting the brush back into the bottle. You notice the way Spencer reached over to seal the nail polish bottle, preventing a tragedy before it strikes.

Spencer hums in response, “If that’s what you want, lovebug.”

She smiles, spinning around in her PJs until she sees you, “Mommy!” She squeaks excitedly, running over to you and giggling when you pick her up.

“Hello, Princess Nellie,” you greet her, hugging her tightly before setting her back down. Listening to see if the ruckus woke up the baby, you walk further into the bedroom when you hear no stirring from the room next door.

She smiles, pointing at Spencer with a proud look on her face, “I painted daddy’s nails.”

“I see that,” you took in the sight before you, Spencer’s nails had indeed been painted, along with all of the skin surrounding them. “They look great honey,” you tell her, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

Nellie looks up at you expectantly, “Daddy said I can’t paint Livvy’s nails.”

You smile slightly at the pout on her face, “That’s right, she’s too little to have her nails painted.” Though you have to admit, you’ve been imagining mini spa nights with your daughters from the moment you found out you were having another girl.

Her eyes go wide as saucers, “Oh! Then it’s a good thing I have daddy.” She beams over at her father, and he looks at her with an equal amount of adoration in his eyes.

Grinning over at Spencer, you nod in agreement with her, “Yeah, it is a good thing.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot #spencer reid dilf agenda

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melzula · 8 months ago

Note

My HC is that since Zuko is royalty, the heir, and also commanded his fleet on his hunt for the avatar, he’s used to taking charge. But the way I’m thinking of it is him being casually dominant with the y/n. Things like using a soft but firm voice to make sure they eat enough, that they’re warm, putting his hand on their thigh to keep it from shaking, etc. the gaang would start to notice how it takes one look from Zuko and y/n complies. Wrapping his hand around their hips to bring them down to sit in his lap, subtly tugging their skirt down when it rides up, stuff like that.

Could I please request some of your amazing writing for casual dominance with Zuko?

pairing: Zuko x reader

notes: okay so this was actually pretty challenging to write just bc i had to be careful about not making zuko come off as too controlling while also still fulfilling the details of the request. however i think it came out pretty good !

summary: Zuko shows his love for you the only way he knows how to

To those on the outside, your relationship with Zuko appeared to be… odd.

No one could quite determine whether he saw you as an equal or as someone who needed to be taken care of. Everyone knew you could handle your own; you’d been a skilled swordsman during the war and a master at hand-to-hand combat. No one doubted your ability to fend for yourself, but it seemed once you began dating the Fire Lord there was no longer any need for you to do so. Zuko took care of you, and being with him meant never having to lift a finger and never having to worry again. You were his prized jewel, and he took it upon himself to care for you in the only way he knew how.

Growing up, the Prince had never properly learned how to show affection or lovingly nurture a relationship. His parents weren’t the greatest example, and his father’s coldness left much to desire. However, his upbringing as a royal and his time commanding a fleet during his search for the Avatar allowed him to grow into a leader. In his younger years he’d been hotheaded and impulsive, but with time he had learned to be firm yet fair. He was a benevolent leader who only wished to do what was best for his people, and this same thought process extended to you.

You’d missed dinner one night and left him waiting in the throne room, too engrossed in your studies to realize how much time had passed or just how hungry you were. Your stomach growled incessantly and your head was beginning to ache, but you were adamant about finishing your book. Having recently been proposed to by the Fire Lord, you took it upon yourself to read up on the history of the Fire Nation and your expected duties as Fire Lady. You were overwhelmed, and eating dinner was the last thing on your mind.

“Y/n,” he had called, startling you out of your focused state as you rested your gaze upon his figure in the doorway. “We were supposed to have dinner together, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” you uttered bashfully, using your book to shield your embarrassed features. “I must have lost track of time. Let me just finish this last page and then I’ll-“

“Y/n,” he repeated with a pointed look, one that had you slowly lowering your text.

“Yes, Zuko,” you had finally relented. You couldn’t ignore your growling stomach any longer, and so you’d tossed your book aside and taken the arm he’d offered for you before allowing him to escort you to the dining room.

Zuko wasn’t strict, wasn’t cruel, just firm. It was his way of showing he cared for you, and you took no offense to how he so often liked to be the one in charge. Whether it be in his actions or in his tone of voice, he took the lead and you followed. This wasn’t to say that you didn’t have a mind or will of your own, but often times Zuko took it upon himself to step in whenever he felt you weren’t taking care of yourself the way he believed you should be.

His love could be conveyed through mundane actions such as wordlessly slipping your shawl over your shoulders without you having to ask to ensure you won’t be cold during a stroll in the palace gardens or resting a comforting hand on your thigh to stop the nervous bouncing of your leg during an important meeting. Anyone and everyone could see the influence he held over you, the dominant role he’d taken in your relationship, and you happily fell into place with him.

“Don’t you think it’s just a little weird?” Sokka had noted once to his sister after watching Zuko carefully wrap his fingers along your hips and delicately pull your figure into his lap as if he were handling a porcelain doll. You looked radiant in your silk robes and ceremonial makeup, a look picked out by Zuko to ease your anxieties over your lack of knowledge of traditional Fire Nation fashion, and as the Fire Lord’s fiancé you were the talk of the ball.

“Maybe it does seem like Zuko is usually the one in charge,” Katara had agreed thoughtfully, her gaze carefully resting upon your features to search for any sign of discontent or restlessness. Of course, she found none. “But I know y/n, and if she had a problem with it she would have stood up for herself and said something about it.”

The siblings watched as you conversed with various guests, your smile sincere as you spoke with the people you would soon help rule over as Fire Lady. Shifting in your seat as you crossed your legs, Zuko took note of the way the slit of your skirt had partially opened to reveal your bare leg. Wordlessly and without interrupting your conversation, the Fire Lord shifted the fabric so that your skin was kept from prying eyes. He didn’t care in the slightest if anyone saw, but he knew you would be embarrassed if guests began to question your way of dress, so he took it upon himself to fix the problem for you.

“I think it’s a love language thing,” Katara had explained after removing her attention from the scene and returning it to her brother. “He’s showing he cares through actions instead of words. Maybe it’s the only way he knows how to.”

“I guess you’re right,” Sokka relented, though his features still displayed a mild sense of disgust. “But that doesn’t make it any less oogier.”

Maybe no one on the outside ever truly would be able to comprehend the dynamics of your relationship with Zuko, but it wasn’t for them to understand. He took care of you and loved you in the only way he truly knew how to, and you appreciated him endlessly. With Zuko as your soon-to-be husband, you knew you’d always have someone looking after your best interests. All the same, Zuko knew he’d always have someone to love and accept him for who he was.

You were a perfect match.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu @heartfully10 @creationcitystreet-em

#melzula writes #request #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #avatar the last airbender

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natalievoncatte · 2 months ago

Text

Every part of Lena Luthor’s soul was screaming at her do not do this.

Yet there Kara Danvers

(Kara Zor-El, last daughter of the house of El, LIAR.)

stood, bedraggled and tear-tracked, hunched in Lena’s doorway like a tiny kitten begging her for food. Lena wondered how she did it, how she made herself so small and unassuming, pathetic even. It was more than a change of clothes and hair and ripping off her glasses. She truly changed, somehow.

Changed to deceive. Changed to mock, changed to take without giving, to make Lena a fool.

(it was a cruel thought, a green thought, a Lex thought)

“I’ve told you already, Kara. I don’t want you here. You’re a liar, you and all your little friends mocked me to my face and kept secrets behind my back.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

That relentless sad puppy look of hers softened even further.

“Why?”

God above how Lena hated her. Hated her for daring to ask. Fuck you, that’s why.

(nothing hurts more than a question that has no answer)

“I hate you, that’s why.”

Kara swallowed hard, wringing her hands. She was dressed in her pajamas and had probably flown here, then landed and asked to come up like a normal person. Didn’t she see that was the problem?

“I don’t believe you.”

Lena threw up her hands. “Oh fuck off with that, Kara. You lost your favorite toy, get over it. I’m done with you. I moved on, you should too.”

“You let me in. I’ve seen the real you. You’re not vindictive. You’re not cruel. You’re a kind-hearted, selfless, compassionate person.”

“And you didn’t,” Lena snapped, moving to close the door. “You deceived me in the most fundamental way. You made me believe you cared for me and believed in me and saw the good in me. No one sees the fucking good in me, no one. No one did but you… and it was all a trick to keep an eye on the Luthor.”

“No, no, I didn’t-“

“You didn’t? Then why did you get James to spy on me? Why’d you question my motives? Why’d you keep lying to me after I proved myself over and over and over again? Because I was never good enough. It was never real.”

Kara rubbed her arms. “Do you really think I brought you into my circle of friends and held you in when you were sad and brought you to Thanksgiving and let you sleep over in my home to keep an eye on you?”

There was a heavy pause.

“That’s fucking insane,” Kara snarled.

Taken aback, Lena flinched, half at the profanity and half at the anger in Kara’s voice.

“I admit it,” her voice broke suddenly, “I can’t deny it. I can’t just dismiss how you feel, I get that, but I didn’t keep my secret from you because you were some kind of a project, Lena. I kept my secret because keeping it let me keep you. It was selfishness, pure and simple. I wanted my one friend who didn’t see me as a superhero. I wanted… I wanted what I always want, things I cannot have.”

There was such agony in her voice that it cut through Lena’s growing fury like a blade sinking into clay, stuck fast, hot in her chest.

“I knew I’d lose you to it eventually. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”

Lena blinked a few times, feeling her resolve start to shake.

(another manipulation. she will do anything, say anything to get back in your good graces)

(to do what, Lex? to what end?)

“Say what you came here to say.”

“I kind of did, but I have one more thing to ask.”

“Then ask it.”

Kara swallowed. “I want to pretend.”

Lena’s brow arched.

“Pretend what?”

“Just pretend it’s like it was. For one night. Just give me one more night and I promise you I will never bother you again. You’ll never see me or Supergirl for the rest of your life.”

“You’re on TV every day.”

“I meant in person.”

“And stop talking about yourself like you’re two different people.”

Kara sniffed.

“Okay,” she muttered.

Lena stood there for what felt like an eternity, screaming at herself not to do this.

(do it, it’ll make it hurt more)

(me or her?)

Lena stepped aside.

Kara entered. She brushed at her eyes, adjusted her glasses, and walked into Lena’s expansive, cold, dark penthouse.

As soon as she did, it was as if the light came back. It felt warm again, seeing her standing there. Having her here, in her cute little pajamas with her braid over one shoulder, those big eyes open and hopeful.

Lena closed the door.

“What do… what do you want me to do? Us to do?”

“We could watch a movie, maybe get Chinese delivered. Have you eaten? I doubt you’ve eaten.”

Lena hadn’t, actually. She hadn’t eaten today and had eaten only scraps yesterday and only because Jess insisted.

Kara touched Lena’s side, a soft brush of fingers over her ribs, and winced.

“You’re starving yourself,” she murmured. “Oh, Lena.”

“Kara-“

She already had her phone out and was ordering. Of course Kara had Lena’s place still saved in DoorDash.

Lena grabbed her hand to stop her.

“My treat.”

Lena fetched her own phone and put in a quick order- of course she had all of Kara’s favorites saved and of course she almost sent them to Kara’s address instead of her own.

“I ordered.”

Lena looked down at herself, wondering why the hell she was doing this. She was still dressed for the lab, so she retreated to her bedroom.

When she opened the closet her eyes immediately went to the maroon Midvale High School sweatshirt hanging at the far end of the rack, where it had been defying her for months. She should have burned the god damn thing but every time she reached for it, her hand pulled back of its own accord.

Not today. She let it fall over her, oversized for her frame and too long, and changed from slacks to leggings and pumps to bare feet, her toes curling from the cold hardwood floors.

Kara had already taken up position on the couch and had put on one of her beloved movies, one they’d already watched together ten times and Kara had probably already seen ten times more. The Princess Bride.

It was a cheap ploy and Lena knew it.

It gouged at her anyway, leaving something raw in her chest. It ripped open every place she’d forced to herself to scab over, broke every stitch. She killed the lights, halfway out of tradition and halfway to make sure Kara didn’t see her fighting back the tears.

Neither of them spoke. They sat on opposite ends of of the couch. When the food arrived, Kara got up to get it from the driver and her absence was keen, the void she left behind ripping at Lena.

When she sat down again right next to her, Lena let her. She shoved a box of take out into Lena’s lap and insisted she eat. They ate in silence.

Kara’s heart wasn’t in it. She are aimlessly rather than shoving her food in her mouth and gobbling it all down in minutes as she usually did. She was pretending, hard.

Lena barely paid any attention to the movie. The food, normally seasoned and spiced to the point where she couldn’t stand it and ate only to please Kara, was bland and tasteless in her mouth.

Kara, haltingly and hesitantly, put her head on Lena’s shoulder, and winced when Lena’s shoulders hitched. Why the fuck was she doing this to herself?

The worst part was that it didn’t hurt. It felt like home. Even now after all she had done and all that Kara had done and said, feeling Kara’s sadness in her soft weight beside her was ripping her apart, the mad anger and rage swept aside by a torrent of grief she couldn’t hold back.

If she was going to pretend she might as well pretend. She put her arm around Kara and leaned into her, nuzzling her nose into Kara’s soft hair, wondering if her alleged best friend ever noticed that Lena’s favorite thing in the entire stupid fucked up world was a Kara Danvers hug and nothing was more precious to her than these times when she almost kissed the crown of Kara’s head.

How she ached.

The movie ended and Netflix began making suggestions.

“Kara,” Lena murmured. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“If we go to sleep the night will be over,” her voice was small, trembling.”

“I know, darling. Just let it be what it is.”

Kara nodded.

Lena’s pulse was pounding as she headed for the bedroom, wondering how Kara had never picked up on how decidedly unplatonic it was to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Neither spoke as they climbed into Lena’s California King, a bed big enough to drown in, sinking beneath a goose down comforter, Kara’s body heat like old coals from a campfire.

For a moment they lay apart, and then slowly came together in their usual way, Kara forming herself into a protective cocoon to shield Lena from… from everything. Morgan Edge, her brother, alien shotgun weddings, random nuts with a gun and a grudge, everything but the greatest threat, her worst enemy.

“I have to go in the morning,” Kara whispered, “so I better say this now. You are not a monster, Lena. I never wanted to ‘keep an eye on you’ other than to protect you and keep you safe. No matter what you do, I will never, ever give up believing in you, but if you want me gone, that’s what I have to do. I love you so much it hurts me. I can’t stand being apart from you but if that’s what you need from me that’s what I’ll give. I would do anything for you. If moving on is what you want…”

Kara took a ragged breath.

“As you wish.”

Lena felt something crack inside her. An image filled her mind: Kara. Kara with graying hair, walking away, walking off into the sunset like the hero she was, and with someone else… with a child between them, a future, a home…

“God damn you, Kara Danvers!” Lena snapped, shocked at the sound of her own voice. “God damn you for making me feel this way! Do you have any idea what you did to me? I can’t just turn it off, I can’t stop feeling.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Kara sighed. “I should have known better. I’m just hurting you more.”

Kara began pulling away.

Lena threw out her arms, locked her hands behind the neck of the most powerful being on the entire planet, and yanked. Hard.

Their lips came together in a crash. The force was all Lena’s, as Kara’s inhuman might yielded to her control. There were no words. Kara hesitated for a shocked moment before she kissed Lena back, looping her arms around Lena’s waist.

This was no stolen glance, no innuendo, no coy hint. When Lena kissed Kara she made as if to devour her, and was mounting her before she realized she was doing it. Kara yielded, she always yielded even when Lena pinned her wrists to the mattress and clamped her legs around Kara’s hips and ground on her like a horny teenager.

She kept expecting Kara to sputter, to push back… to be fucking straight, to be brutally honest about her intentions, but there was nothing straight in the way Kara shifted to grind against her, or the way she twisted her hands free and slid them under the soft Midvale High Sweatshirt and skimmed them over the bare skin of Lena’s back. There was no mistaking the intent of her kisses or the feral sound she made when the shedding of clothing began.

Lena must have shocked her at first, because when Kara recovered, she became a force of nature. Lena was quickly on her back and let out an excited yelp when Kara simply tore her leggings apart and bared her with a feral grin on her face before shedding her top with the same desperate energy.

When they came together, really came together, Lena was nearly overwhelmed. Kara was insatiable, relentless. Hokey cliches like “force of nature” were woefully inadequate.

She never ran out of stamina and she was gentle when needed and forceful when Lena wanted it, every stoke and motion and caress somehow perfect, and she sensed without needing to be told when Lena was ready to give rather than receive and yielded without a word.

They barely even had to talk, and when Lena was finally exhausted, Kara was there with kind touches and soft words and cared for her like the most precious thing in the world.

Lena fell asleep, deeply and soundly, and when she woke up with the sun on her skin and an empty bed she wondered if it was all an elaborate dream until she heard Kara humming halfway across the penthouse, grabbed the sweatshirt, and padded barefoot from the bedroom.

Kara was at the stove cooking breakfast and holding a spatula like a microphone, singing… a fucking Britney Spears song.

“I thought you were going to leave in the morning,” Lena sighed.

Kara froze.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I’d have to come get you.”

Kara turned to her with a billion watt smile.

“I was lying about leaving you alone.”

Lena walked over, arms around her waist, hugging herself. She cupped Lena’s chin with a hooked finger and the casual intimacy of it made Lena’s heart swell.

“I love you so much. I can’t breathe without you,” Kara whispered.

Lena took Kara’s wrist and guided her hand to cup her cheek, nuzzling against the soft skin of Kara’s palm.

“Stay?”

Kara nodded.

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capquinn · 1 month ago

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okay i keep seeing fics and thoughts about how attentive quinn would be towards his partner and it got me thinking…

i feel like it would get to the point where he knows your body and your queues better than you know yourself. start to realize your allergies aren’t allergies? he already bought the meds you need and is making dinner. got your period? no surprise there, he has his own app for you and stocked up on snacks last week.

which brings me to this heheh.

i feel like once you have one or two babies with quinn he knows your pregnancy symptoms like the back of his hand. so much so that he tells YOU you’re pregnant again. and it would just hit him one night laying in bed (you know that man thinks himself to sleep)

I’m gone for him, enjoy my delulu land thoughts

hello????? this is so cute and so husband!quinn coded. i love this trope sm <3

Quinn moved through your world like he’d been born knowing the map of it. His care wasn’t loud or showy — it was quiet, woven into the seams of everyday life. He had a way of catching the things no one else would: the small shift in your posture when you were tired, the pause in your laugh when something was weighing on you. His hands knew the rhythm of your days, reaching for your mug before you could, adjusting the blanket without needing to ask if you were cold. It wasn’t that he studied you; it was more like you existed in a frequency he was always tuned into, effortlessly aware of every note, every shift, every unspoken word.

So, when the subtle changes began to creep in, Quinn noticed before you did.

It started with the small things — too small to put into words, but just noticeable enough for him to store away. The way you sighed a little heavier, your shoulders barely lifting before falling, as though the weight of the day had settled in deeper than usual. Or how you hesitated in doorways, pausing like you’d forgotten what you needed or where you were going, your brows knitting together in quiet thought. And then there was the tiredness, creeping in like a quiet visitor. Some afternoons, he’d find you curled up with Bug during her nap, the two of you tangled in a mess of blankets on the couch, her tiny hand resting on your chest as you dozed. It wasn’t like you, not the you he knew who thrived on filling the hours, always moving, always doing.

At first, he dismissed it. Everyone had their moments, days when energy flagged, when the world felt a little out of sync. But then the bigger, more obvious changes began to take root.

It began with the walk. You, Quinn, and Bug strolled through the neighbourhood on a crisp winter morning, the kind where the air felt fresh but not too biting. Bug was hopping along, gripping Quinn’s hand and jumping over cracks in the pavement. You paused by a lamppost, your gaze snagged on a flyer stapled to the pole. It was for a missing dog, the corners frayed from the cold. The photo — a golden retriever with the sweetest, dopey smile — stared back at you, and your throat tightened inexplicably.

You tried to hide it, quickly swiping at the tears that pricked your eyes, but Quinn noticed instantly. “You okay?” he asked, his brows knitting in concern.

You nodded too quickly, your voice unconvincing. “I’m fine. It’s just…” You trailed off, breathing a shaky laugh as the tears spilled anyway. “The poor dog…”

Quinn stopped in his tracks, gently pulling Bug to his other side so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice warm and steady. “We’ll keep an eye out. Maybe someone’s already found him,” he said softly, though his brows furrowed as he held you.

You were sentimental, yes, but crying over a lost dog poster wasn’t like you. He kissed the top of your head, the thought lingering as Bug tugged at his hand to keep moving.

A few days later, it happened again. Bug had tripped over a loose stone in the driveway. It wasn’t anything dramatic — just one of those little stumbles kids have a dozen times a day. She scraped her knee, barely even a mark, and at first, she just sat there staring at it, trying to decide if it was worth crying over. Her lips wobbled, her big eyes filling with tears, and then came the wail — not loud, not panicked, just enough to let you know she’d decided it hurt.

Quinn crouched beside her in a heartbeat, his voice gentle and steady. “Hey, Bug, you’re okay,” he murmured, brushing the tiny specks of gravel off her knees. His hand lingered there for a moment, his thumb grazing the fabric as if to check for any real damage. “It’s just a little scrape. Barely even a scratch, see?”

Bug sniffled, her tiny hands clutching at the hem of his shirt as she leaned toward him, and Quinn scooped her up without hesitation. She buried her face against his chest, her little body shuddering with the last remnants of her tears.

You stood a few steps back, frozen in place. It wasn’t the scrape that did it, not really. It was the way her small shoulders shook, the way her face had crumpled like her whole world had been upended. It was her tears — so big and overwhelming for someone so small. Watching her cry felt like something cracking open inside you, and before you could stop yourself, tears pricked at the corners of your own eyes.

Quinn looked up, catching your expression in an instant. His brows furrowed slightly, his concern shifting toward you.

“She’s okay,” he said softly, his voice meant to reassure.

But the sight of him, standing there with Bug tucked safely against his chest, his voice low and calming, only made the ache in your chest sharper. Your hand flew up to your face, brushing quickly at your cheek to catch the tear that escaped, but Quinn noticed anyway. Of course, he noticed.

“Hey,” he said, his tone even gentler now, his eyes searching yours. “What’s going on?”

You tried to smile, but it came out shaky, your voice catching as you whispered, “Nothing, I’m fine. Just—” You swallowed hard, glancing at Bug’s little face as she peeked up at you, her tears already drying. “I’m being silly.”

She blinked at you, her sniffles slowing, her tiny voice soft as she said, “I’m okay, mommy.”

The sweetness of her reassurance undid you completely. Another tear slid down your cheek, and you let out a quiet, shaky laugh, brushing it away as Quinn stepped closer. He didn’t say anything, just wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you into the circle of warmth he and Bug created.

But even as the moment passed, it stayed with him.

And then came the smell of popcorn.

Family movie night was the kind of weekly tradition that carried a quiet comfort, the kind that made the whole house feel warmer and softer. Bug had already claimed her spot on the couch, clutching her stuffed bear, her little feet kicking in excitement as Quinn rummaged in the kitchen, the air popper humming softly. The scent of fresh popcorn started wafting through the house, buttery and rich, and he could already hear Bug giggling at the first loud pop.

But something was off.

You were mid-step to the couch, arms full of blankets, when you froze. Your nose crinkled, the kind of subtle movement Quinn might’ve missed if he hadn’t glanced up right then. You turned your head slightly, as if testing the air, and then your hand shot up, waving in front of your face like you could swat the smell away.

“Can you—” you hesitated, your voice uncharacteristically small. “Can you open the windows? Please?”

Quinn, mid-pour as the popcorn spilled into a bowl, paused, confused. “It’s freezing outside,” he said lightly, not in a way meant to argue but more like a question.

“Quinn, please” you said, cutting him off, your voice sharp with desperation. Your face had scrunched up, your hand pressing against your nose as you braced yourself on the back of a chair. “The smell...”

That was all it took. Without another word, he crossed to the window, shoving it open. A gust of cold air rushed in, making him shiver, but he stayed there for a second, staring at you as you sank onto the couch. You were pale, almost a little green, pulling the blanket over you like it could shield you from the lingering scent in the air.

He settled the bowl down, watching you carefully.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft and steady, the way it always was when he was trying to gently coax the truth out of you. There wasn’t an ounce of judgment in his tone, just that familiar warmth that made it impossible to brush him off completely.

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, though the tight smile on your face didn’t convince him. “It’s just… the smell of melted butter. It’s so strong tonight.”

His gaze lingered, his brow furrowing. The smell? The smell of buttery popcorn? You’d practically declared it your comfort food not long ago, sneaking bites every time he made a batch before the film had even started, laughing as Bug scolded you for eating hers. He could count on one hand the number of family movie nights where you hadn’t stolen the first handful, claiming quality control. But now? Now, you looked like you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with it.

“You want me to grab you something else? Crackers? Tea?” he offered, trying to fill the silence with solutions, throwing them out suggestions like lifelines.

You shook your head, brushing him off with a small wave. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

But Quinn wasn’t convinced. He sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as Bug wriggled into his lap, her giggles filling the room. You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest, and for a while, it felt like everything was back to normal.

But it wasn’t.

As Bug chattered happily about the movie, Quinn’s mind lingered on you. On the way your face had twisted, the way you recoiled from something you once loved. It wasn’t like you. Not at all. And the longer he held you close, the more certain he became that this wasn’t just a bad reaction to popcorn. It was something more. He just didn’t know what — yet.

But the biggest changes came just a couple of days later, revealing themselves in moments that caught Quinn completely off guard.

It was early in the morning, the kind of stillness that only came before the rest of the house stirred awake. Bug was sound asleep in her room, her soft snores barely audible through the monitor, and the house seemed wrapped in a peaceful hush. The air between you and Quinn felt heavier, charged, but in the best way — soft whispers, shared breaths, and the warmth of his body pressed close.

His hands moved over your skin with practiced tenderness, his touch warm and familiar, every stroke an unspoken declaration of love. His lips followed, pressing soft, languid kisses along your collarbone, trailing a path that left your skin tingling. This was how he loved you — slowly, deeply, making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

But then his lips brushed against your breast, featherlight, as if he was testing how far he could push before the teasing turned into something more. And yet—

“Quinn,” you whimpered, a sharp intake of breath cutting through the stillness as you shifted away from him. “Be gentle.”

He froze instantly, his concern immediate as he lifted his head to look at you. “I am,” he murmured, his voice quiet but tinged with confusion. He searched your face, his hands stilling on your waist as if waiting for you to say more.

You shook your head, swallowing against the lump in your throat. “It just… hurts,” you admitted, the words coming out softer than you intended, almost like you were embarrassed by them.

Quinn’s expression softened, an apology already forming in the tilt of his brow. He leaned in, brushing a kiss to the inside of your breast as though it could somehow make up for the discomfort, but you pulled away again, wincing before his lips even made full contact.

“Quinn, that hurts,” you repeated, a little louder this time, your hand coming up to shield yourself instinctively, a clear sign for him to avoid the area altogether.

His hands dropped to your hips, retreating as he leaned back, his brows knitting together further. He watched you carefully, his gaze full of questions he didn’t ask, giving you space but not pulling away entirely.

Quinn frowned, his thumb brushing over your skin in a soothing motion. “I didn’t mean to,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet sincerity.

“I know,” you replied quickly, offering him a small smile to reassure him. “It’s just… everything feels so sensitive.”

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck instead, but he could feel your hesitation, the way your body tensed slightly, as if bracing for more discomfort.

But even as he moved his touch elsewhere, skimming his hands over your back, your thighs, he couldn’t stop his mind from racing. Your reaction was unusual, out of sync with how things normally were between you. He’d always been attuned to your body, your needs, and this? This was different.

Still, when you pulled him closer, guiding him to where you wanted him, he let it go for now.

And it's later that night when everything makes perfect sense.

Quinn crawls into bed and the first thing he notices isn’t the movie playing on Netflix or the cosy way you’re propped up against the pillows. No, his attention zeroes in on the plate balanced on your lap — a plate of pickles, shiny and brined, with a big dollop of peanut butter right in the middle. His movements falter, half under the covers, as his eyes flick between you and the plate, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

You don’t even notice him staring, too distracted by scrolling through movie options. “What?” you ask, glancing over briefly before returning your attention to the TV.

“Who’s that for?” he asks, his voice slow, deliberate, like he’s waiting for the punchline.

“Me,” you reply without missing a beat, your tone distracted. “Why, you want some?”

He’s fully under the covers now, leaning back against the headboard, one brow raised as he studies you. “You hate pickles,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s holding back a smile.

You pause mid-bite, glancing over at him with a small frown. “I don’t hate them,” you argue, tone light but defensive, gesturing to the plate like it proves your point. “They’re just not my go-to snack. But they’re fine.”

His brow furrows deeper, his gaze flicking between you and the plate. “Since when?”

“Since now, I guess,” you shrug, as if it’s not worth discussing. Without missing a beat, you swipe another pickle through the peanut butter and take a bite, chewing like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Quinn doesn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches you. The corner of his mouth twitches again, but this time it’s not amusement — it’s something closer to realisation. Something is clicking into place, and as he leans his head back against the pillows, his gaze softens, filled with something you can’t quite place.

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him as you catch the look on his face. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He leans back against the pillows, shifting as if to settle in, and shrugs, his tone casual — too casual. “No reason,” he says, his voice smooth, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays him.

You squint at him, suspicious. “Quinn…”

He shakes his head, lifting the blanket higher around his chest like it’s a shield, his eyes now glued to the TV. “Seriously,” he murmurs, his voice low, distracted. “It’s nothing.”

But you can see the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes, the way his lips press together like he’s holding back a grin. You open your mouth to press him further, but he shifts again, leaning into your side under the blanket as if that’s the end of the conversation.

Later, when the movie ends with a soft hum and the credits roll, the light from the screen flickers faint shadows across the room before everything dims into darkness. The lamp on the nightstand clicks off with a quiet snap, leaving the room bathed in a cosy stillness. The only sound now is Bug’s tiny snores filtering through the baby monitor, soft and steady, her little sighs rising and falling in a rhythm so gentle it could lull anyone to sleep.

You’re curled against Quinn’s side, warm and relaxed, your head resting on his chest, his arm draped around you as his fingers trace absentminded patterns over your back. The weight of the day lingers faintly in the air, softened by the quiet and the comfort of each other’s presence, and it should feel serene, the kind of moment Quinn would normally soak in without question, but not tonight.

His eyes are open, fixed on the ceiling though he isn’t really seeing it. His body is still, though his mind is anything but. It’s racing, piecing together a puzzle he didn’t even realise he was solving until tonight. The pickles and peanut butter. The popcorn. The tears over Bug’s scraped knee. The extra naps curled up on the couch. Each moment replays in his head, flashing brighter with every pass until there’s no way he can chalk it up to coincidence.

Bug’s little snore drifts through the monitor again, and he glances down at you, still nestled against him, your face soft and relaxed. He’s usually content to let moments like this pass unspoken, holding them close without the need to fill the silence. But tonight, the weight of what he’s realised feels too big to ignore.

It’s not nothing. Not even close.

“Baby?” he murmurs, his voice soft, careful not to break the quiet too harshly, trying not to startle you.

You hum softly against him, your head shifting slightly to nuzzle closer against him, your body too close to sleep to fully respond.

His hand stills on your back, and he swallows, the weight of what he’s about to say heavy in the stillness. “I think…” He draws in a breath, steeling himself for how to say it. “I think you’re pregnant.”

Slowly, you lift your head, your eyes meeting his in the dim light filtering through the blinds, your expression a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“What?” you whisper, your voice rough with sleep, your tone teetering between shock and amusement. “You can’t possibly know that.”

Quinn tilts his head down to meet your eyes, his own full of something soft and sure. There’s the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth, as though he’s both amused and completely serious all at once. Like he knows how absurd this might sound but believes it wholeheartedly.

“The pickles and peanut butter,” he says simply, his voice calm. “That’s not normal.”

You sit up a little, propping yourself on one elbow, your brow furrowing. “It’s not that weird,” you try to argue, though your voice wavers, betraying your uncertainty. “People eat stuff like that all the time.”

“Not you,” he counters immediately, insistent. His hand moves to rest on your waist, grounding. “You hate pickles. Always have. The only time you’ve ever eaten them was when you were pregnant.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. His statement hangs in the air between you, heavy with meaning, his certainty pressing against your rising disbelief.

“I mean… that’s not…” you start, your voice trailing off as the pieces begin to fall into place in your mind. “That doesn’t mean I’m pregnant,” you insist, but even as you say it, doubt creeps in. Your free hand drifts unconsciously to your stomach, resting there like it might offer some kind of confirmation.

Quinn’s thumb brushes against your side, the touch grounding but gentle, as if he doesn’t want to push you too far, too fast. “Maybe,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s offering you the space to deny it if you want. “But you’ve been tired, more emotional… and now this?” His lips twitch again, the faintest smile playing there, but his eyes stay steady on yours, filled with a quiet conviction.

You blink at him, a laugh bubbling up from somewhere deep in your chest — not from amusement, but disbelief. “Quinn, people eat weird food combos all the time. This doesn’t mean—”

“You really think it’s just a coincidence?” he interrupts gently, his tone more curious than challenging. “Pickles and peanut butter, of all things? That was your thing, baby. With Bug.”

The reminder makes you pause, your brow furrowing deeper as you glance down at where his hand rests on your waist. “That was… different,” you mutter, though the protest sounds weak even to your own ears.

Quinn leans in slightly, his forehead almost brushing yours, the closeness pulling your gaze back to his. His eyes are soft but insistent, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. His face is so steady, so full of quiet certainty, and it makes something flicker in your chest — a suspicion, a possibility, something you hadn’t let yourself consider until now.

“You’re serious,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, the words more of an observation than a question, as if it’s just dawning on you that he isn’t joking. He genuinely believes it.

His hand comes up, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “I know you,” he murmurs, his tone as gentle s his touch. “And I’m telling you… you’re pregnant.”

You blink at him, your lips parting slightly, but no real words come out at first. Then, with a quiet laugh that’s half disbelief, half affection, you shake your head and murmur, “how do you always figure me out before I do?”

Quinn’s lips curve into a soft, lopsided smile, the kind that makes your chest ache with how much love it holds. “I pay attention,” he says simply, his hand still cradling your cheek, thumb brushing just under your eye.

You lean into his touch, your own hand coming up to rest lightly over his wrist. "And what if you're wrong?"

His chuckle rumbles low and easy in his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there like he’s trying to pass some of his certainty onto you. "I don’t think I am," he says, his voice gentle, but the confidence behind it makes your pulse hum.

You don’t argue. Instead, you let the quiet between you stretch, the weight of his words settling softly over you. It’s fragile and insistent, nudging at the edges of your disbelief, coaxing you to consider it.

The idea blooms slowly, like a dawning realisation, soft and tentative, but impossible to ignore. It unfolds in layers — the thought of two children filling your home with laughter and chaos, the sight of Bug as a big sister, her tiny hands guiding even tinier ones, her voice full of pride and importance. You can almost hear the way she’d say it, proclaiming herself the helper, the protector, the best big sister in the world. The idea of another little person, someone with Quinn’s soft eyes and quiet strength, someone who might scrunch their nose when they smile, just like he does. Another piece of him, and of you, wrapped up into someone entirely their own. The thought is overwhelming in its sweetness, in the weight of its possibility.

You press closer against Quinn’s chest, your head resting over his heart as his fingers trace those lazy, familiar patterns on your back. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear, grounding you in the moment, as if reminding you that you don’t have to figure it all out right now. And as the quiet fills the room, pierced only by Bug’s little sighs through the monitor, you let yourself imagine it more fully, the beginnings of a smile tugging at your lips.

Maybe — just maybe — he’s right.

#the second that pregnancy test turns positive he's gonna be so smug about it #all soft smiles and 'told you so' while trying not to look entirely too pleased with himself <3 #dad!quinn #capquinn's writing #capquinn’s requests #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes

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