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neochan · 2 months ago

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THE PROMISCUOUS TUTOR (M) | PART ONE

SERIES MASTERLIST LINK | remember this is part three and a half of a series! read part one & two for context!

PAIRING | tutor!jaemin x reader

SYNOPSIS | na jaemin is too sexy to be holed up in the campus library, but once you catch wind of what he does between the shelves, you know it’s your time to see just how well his reputation proceeds him.

WC | 15.3k

WARNINGS | cursing, mentions of alcohol, sexual comments, vouyerism, explicit smut, choking, hair pulling, so sorry to the jaehyun stans this chapter :(, pink-haired jaemin. mc does some hoe shit idk.

A.N | tumblr is being stupid and won't let me put it all in one part, so i'm splitting it into two. the next part will be linked on the masterlist / uploaded in a few! please send asks after you finish reading. i want to hear your thoughts!

Typically, the University dining hall is one of the loudest places on campus at any given time.

However, you’re becoming increasingly aware of how eerily silent it is at the ass crack of dawn – and how unbelievably loud Jaemin is.

It’s one thing if he was whisper-yelling about midterms coming up, but the dude was dishing some very personal details while sifting through a pan of scrambled eggs. And there was no whispering.

None.

None at all.

Jaemin wanted to make sure you heard his frustration. So, loud and proud, with his entire chest, he piles a heaping serving of eggs on his plate while conversating at the top of his lungs.

“...then we flipped positions, but she got the angle wrong and bent my dick–”

Jaemin's voice carried across the dining hall, prompting you to offer an apologetic smile to the staff member stationed at the food line. However, he just yawns tiredly and turns around to continue flipping pancakes on the griddle.

They obviously didn’t get paid enough to care about Jaemin and his dick bending episode, so you moved along behind the boy, piling up your own plate with the dining halls incredibly mid breakfast.

“. . . and I didn’t even mean to fall asleep, but we went so many rounds I just closed my eyes for two seconds, next thing I know it’s five am and I wake up to Haechan calling me –”

The mention of his name makes your head snap up. “Haechan?”

Jaemin stops at the soda machine and pours a cool glass of Gatorade into a clear plastic cup. “Yeah, he was totally freaking out, wondering why I hadn’t come home.” He chuckles before moving on to find a table. You grab a water bottle and scurry to keep up. “Like I don’t disappear for pussy all the time.”

At this early hour, you could have had your choice of seats in the café, but in typical Jaemin fashion, he zeroed in on an elevated platform encircling the main dining area. It was a nice spot – next to a cluster of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the quad and few academic buildings. But again, at this hour, especially with it being a Sunday, there wasn’t much to look at. Just a few workers maintaining the lawn and a solitary squirrel.

It wasn’t like you were going to be staring out the window much though. His words had captured any wandering attention.

"...and he asked if I had heard from you, which is why I texted.” Jaemin scoops up a hearty forkful of scrambled eggs and eagerly pops it into his mouth, a mischievous grin forming on his lips.

The jolt of surprise that courses through your veins is unmistakably reflected in your expression. "Me? Why would he be asking about me?" you blurt out, your nerves getting the best of you.

Shit.

So Haechan had woken up and noticed your absence. A pang of guilt tightens your chest and makes you cringe on the inside. What a shitty thing to do. Take his virginity and then all but bail on him.

But he was cool with it being a one-time thing, you argue with yourself.

Jaemin interrupts your internal debate through a mouthful of pineapple, “I don’t know but he seemed kinda mad. You didn’t piss him off, did you?”

To avoid an immediate answer, you shove a forkful of syrup slathered pancakes into your mouth and chew slowly. When you swallow, it feels like a lump is stuck in your throat. But maybe that was just your guilty conscience trying to choke the life out of you.

“I don’t think I did anything.” You shrug, the words sounding less convincing than you’d hoped. A thought pops into your head, diverting the conversation momentarily, “Wait. You went home to shower, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

You lean in a bit, your tone hushed, “So… did you see him?”

Jaemin cards a hand through his faded pink hair and shakes his head, “I mean yeah, but he just said good morning and shut his door. I invited him to breakfast, but I don’t think he heard me.”

As his words sink in, a mix of relief and concern mingles within you. The last thing you needed was Haechan tagging along to a morning-after-breakfast. That would have made things mega awkward.

The boy you had just fucked and the boy you were wanting to fuck. Add in the fact that they had no idea you were even completing this stupid drunk-induced challenge…

Oh yeah, the challenge. Why the hell did it keep skipping your mind? Like it wasn’t the very thing that got you in this position.

Just the thought of it… well, it made your mind wander (as if it hadn’t been wandering this entire time). And somehow it landed on just how good Jaemin looked this morning.

He obviously had the after-sex glow - his skin was looking smooth and radiant, eyes bright, and lips a subtle shade of darker pink. The thought of why they were puffy made your thighs quiver - and underneath the dining table, you have to squeeze them together just to breathe properly again.

Was it from Yeji biting them last night? Passionate kisses turning into something much more aggressive? Could it be from him pushing open her thighs and coaxing her through ecstasy with just his tongue?

The vulgar thoughts circle your brain while you take in the rest of his sleepy, early morning outfit. A bright red hoodie hangs off his shoulders, covering any sort of muscle definition your eyes were itching to see. Not that it truly mattered – your memory was still pretty vivid from the party two nights ago. However, that night, your focus had been solely on Hyuck, which now seemed like an unfortunate missed opportunity.

Especially when he gets up to dump his plate in the dirty dish bin, and your eyes follow his tight cargo pants. What exactly was hiding beneath the black fabric?

Technically, you already knew thanks to the video he shared the night all this challenge stuff was created.

But a little reminder couldn’t hurt.

Jaemin returns to the table with a fresh glass of blue Gatorade, and when he sits down, his eyes wash over your body like he was mirroring what you were just doing. Did he catch you? Is that why he did that?

He doesn’t give any hints. Just raises an eyebrow playfully, the rim of his cup poised between his lips. "I know you were avoiding the question, but why are you up this early?" he teases, his voice a blend of curiosity and amusement.

A chuckle escapes your lips as you spear a piece of fruit with your fork. It was good to think quick in these situations, but the answer that comes out of your mouth might have been the stupidest thing you’d ever said, "I was planning to go on a run."

You don’t run. Especially not on a Sunday morning.

His lips curl into a mischievous smile, his gaze dancing with a hint of skepticism. "But your hair is wet."

Glancing down at your slightly damp hair, you feel a blush tint your cheeks. You hadn’t even realized. After your dizzying thoughts of Jaemin in the shower, you had been so excited to meet him for breakfast that you forgot to blow dry your hair, "Yeah, I showered."

Jaemin leans forward, his expression mockingly serious. "Before the run?"

Your laughter bubbles forth, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. "Well, you wanted to grab breakfast, so I thought I’d take a quick shower.”

A grin tugs at Jaemin's lips, his intrigue growing. "But you're a night showerer."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you respond, "Is this a full-scale investigation now? Am I on trial?"

Jaemin breaks into hearty laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Just trying to solve the mysteries of the morning, you know."

Relief stretched through your body like an adrenaline chaser. “Well, I hate to disappoint Mr. Detective, but there’s no mystery here. I just got up early and was gonna hit the gym, but you texted me first.” You put the fruit back onto your plate, too worked up to take a bite, “Next time, I’ll ignore your text.”

“Hey!” he frowns.

“Kidding.” You remark, “But I think I’ll skip the gym instead and take a nap. I’m not used to waking up this early…”

“Just make sure you’re at the library by one. Would hate to miss your free tutoring session.” He pushes back from the table, and you do the same, gathering all your half-eaten dishes from the world’s fastest breakfast date.

“Do you want me to pay you? I have no problems giving you cash.”

“Nah, I like helping out a friend.” He bumps your elbow as you walk down the ramp to the main dining floor. The surge of electricity that snaps through your body takes you by surprise. Maybe this breakfast was a little higher tension than you were aware of.

You drop all your dishes into the dirty dish bin and walk side by side with Jaemin out on the quad. There was still no one in sight, even as the sun started to bloom full light over the bright green shrubbery.

“Don’t say I never offered to pay.” You giggle.

“Nah, don’t worry. If I wanted something in return, it wouldn’t be money.” He just stares at you, a deadpan look with no emotion.

You, on the other hand, have many emotions crossing your face – shock, disbelief, curiosity, intrigue.

“I’m kidding.” He snorts.

You stumble over your words, “Y-Yeah, duh.”

“Alright, I’ll catch you at one. Don’t be late!” He reminds, walking backwards as he wiggles a warning finger at you. He spins around, almost tripping over a loose brick on the pathway in the process.

As he retreats into the backdrop of trees, headed back to the boy's dormitory on the far side of campus, you find yourself wishing to follow. Maybe you could catch some sleep in his bed, enveloped by the sweet smell of Jaemin (that being hair dye and Dior Savauge).

Instead, you begrudgingly drag your feet in the opposite direction. Back to your lonely dorm where you would fall asleep in an empty bed that smelled like nothing but yourself.

“We’ve wanted this for a while.”

Haechan looks up at you from between your legs and licks his puffy lips. His finger draws lazy circles around your clit, and it feels wonderful.

You could watch him like this forever, but what drags your attention away is the second set of lips attaching to your neck. Nothing had warned you of his presence before, but now you were on full alert. He sucks bruises against your skin, hands running up and down your body until you were left shaking into his touch.

“Jaemin?”

The pink haired boy draws back and sits on his heels, a goofy grin spread out.

“Yes princess?”

Your head is on a swivel now. From Haechan’s chocolate brown eyes and mischievous smirk to the way Jaemin was eyeing your exposed chest.

“You okay sweetheart?” Jaemin takes a singular finger and tips your chin upwards, “How about you just lay back and let us take care of you.”

Haechan speaks up, “Tell us which one makes you cum harder, okay?” Two fingers pinch your clit, making you jerk against Jaemin, “Like a bet.”

Like a bet.

In the hazy realm between dreams and reality, your eyes flutter open, greeted by the harsh reality of full sunlight streaming through the curtains. Panic instantly surges through you as you glance at the clock – it's later than it should be. With a sudden jolt, you sit up, your mind racing to comprehend.

The realization hits like a tidal wave: you're late for your tutoring session with Jaemin. You fumble with the sheets, untangling yourself in a hurry, and your heart pounds with each passing second. Your phone, lying neglected on the nightstand, taunts you with its unmissed alarms.

“Oh fuck.”

The room spins with the remnants of the vivid dream. Jaemin and Haechan... at the same time. Jaemin’s arms around you, Haechan between your thighs. The wetness there now seems unavoidable, but there was no time.

Your phone lights up with another text from Jaemin. Grabbing it, you hastily read through.

(1:01 PM) Manwhore: yo, you on ur way?

(1:04 PM) Manwhore: helloooo?

(1:07 PM) Manwhore: don’t tell me you forgot

(1:08 PM) Manwhore: if you don’t text me back or get here in the next five minutes, I’m literally going to fuck your roommate again.

Wish you would fuck me as a punishment, you think, but type out a different response.

(1:09 PM) Y/N: you’d fuck her anyway.

(1:09 PM) Y/N: I overslept. Be there in five.

Another glance over your messages and you realize the same roommate he was threatening to fuck has also been bombarding you with a flurry of messages.

(10:01 AM) Roomie!!: I feel like I never see you

(10:52 AM) Roomie!!: I wanted to wake you up but you weren’t here literally all night…

(11:09 AM) Roomie!!: I left you a muffin on the counter <3

(12:36 PM) Roomie!!: Can we please talk tonight? Or hangout? Or go to the movies? Literally anything??? I miss you!

You shoot her a quick message, saying sorry and promising to catch up with her tonight. Man, you've really missed her. There's this itch to spill everything, spill the beans about the stupid bet, but at the same time, you're not sure if you should. It's like walking on eggshells, ya know?

One thing was apparent though. She could never know about these filthy dreams. How desperate you were to be underneath your best friends…that was a secret you must keep.

Speaking of best friends, you had one waiting impatiently at the library for you to hurry the fuck up. No matter if you were just dreaming about him sucking on your neck.

You snatch the nearest clothes and quickly slide on your shoes in a rush. Carelessly, you throw textbooks into your backpack. Grabbing the muffin Jennie left for you on the counter, you swing your backpack over your shoulder and scramble out the door.

“Stupid fucking stairs” you mutter underneath your breath, hurtling down all five flights in a rush.

“What did the stairs ever do to you.” The voice startles you, nearly causing you to trip.

“What the hell, Haechan.” Great, the other half of your dream has just materialized. “What are you doing in the girls dorm.”

He grins, keeping pace with you down the flights. “Visiting a lady friend.”

“Truth. Now.”

He sighs, “Group project.”

“Sounds about right.” You reach the bottom of the staircase and push open the door that spills out onto the quad.

The fleeting thought of sprinting away crosses your mind, but you dismiss it. Instead, you glance over your shoulder, watching him struggle with his backpack straps. His hair is a fluffy brown mess, wind tousling it. A faded graphic design t-shirt hangs off his collarbones, with matching sweatpants that seem two sizes too big.

He's such a loser, you think affectionately.

“So…” He muses, catching up to you and bumping your arm with his elbow, “Why’d you dip this morning?” There’s a tinge of hurt in the question but you choose to ignore it.

You shrug, “Met up with Jaemin for breakfast…you were sleeping so I didn’t want to bother you.”

The campus has come alive since your last outing. Students lounge on the quad, soaking in the dwindling sunlight before fall strips away the warmth. You wish you could join them and forget about your trivial problems.

"Weird. Because he invited me too," he keeps his head down, focusing on his worn-out sneakers navigating the uneven brick paving the campus.

“He told me.” You don’t know what Haechan was getting at. Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have dipped, but…what else were you supposed to do?

“Surprised your legs are working.”

“Haechan.” You shriek, slapping his shoulder. Where the hell did that come from.

He laughs loudly, “I’m just saying. Maybe that’s why you were so mad at the stairs. Hurt a bit?” Yeah, he was feeling cocky. Confident. Cause here was this beautiful girl next to him, who just so happened to be his best friend, and who also sat on his cock last night. He felt on top of the world.

“I’m fine.” You seethe, “And just so we’re clear, we aren’t telling anyone about this.”

Bummer. He rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I know. You want to keep the best sex of your life a secret. No sweat.”

“I swear to god Haechan –”

“Oh, calm down princess. I’m not gonna tell anyone. Our little secret.” He winks at you and a hot blush spreads over your cheeks.

Fuck him and fuck his stupid pet names.

“Round two?” He braces for the swat that comes his way, another laugh slipping past his lips, “Okay, okay. I’ll stop joking around.”

You want to feel annoyed, but you're just glad to have your best friend back—the one who makes inappropriate jokes at your expense. Maybe that's greedy of you, expecting everything to go back to normal after taking his virginity.

But it’s what he wanted…. So get over it Y/N, you think.

Round two didn’t sound so bad though…especially after that stupid fucking dream you just had.

“Where you headed?” he asks, pulling on the straps of his backpack.

“Library. Jaemin’s tutoring me. And I’m late.” You reply. He was really gonna kick your ass if you didn’t hurry up.

“How great. I’m on my way there too. Gotta finish this stupid presentation.”

You glance at him, catching his face scrunch up.

“Got something else you want to say?” you question. It looked like he was physically in pain. Yet, knowing him, he was just holding himself back from saying something inappropriate.

“Promise not to hit me.”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Well…I was just gonna say, if you want help relaxing after the draining tutoring session you’re about to have…”

Bingo. You knew him soooo well.

“You’re impossible Haechan.”

“One of my redeeming qualities I must say.”

The library comes into view. Fucking finally. It felt like ages since you left your dorm.

You decide to snark back at him. “You know…on second thought.” It almost makes you feel bad the way his eyes spark up, “I would but, I got plans…”

His response is firm and unwavering. "Cancel them."

Locking eyes with him proves to be a mistake as you realize he's dead serious. "Can't, sorry," you pout.

He strides ahead, swinging open the library door with a grand gesture. You roll your eyes, heading straight for the back wall where the individual study rooms are located.

"Y/n," he whispers, silently urging you to reconsider. "Think about it."

Ignoring him, your attention is diverted when you spot Jaemin, who also catches sight of you through the glass separating the main floor from the study rooms. He rolls his eyes and taps his wrist as a mock reminder of your tardiness.

"Y/n," Haechan whines, a plea echoing the same tone as the night before.

Choosing to play with him once more, you tease, "Sorry, Haechannie. Plans, remember?" Leaning in, you cup his ear and blow a cool breath, feeling him shiver. "But you can think about me when you jerk off later."

He watches in shock as you saunter away, pushing open the study room door to apologize profusely to Jaemin. The bulge in Haechan's pants goes unnoticed until he tears his eyes away. "God damn."

Na Jaemin is disgustingly attractive.

And so, so distracting.

How were you supposed to study binomial distributions when he sat on the opposite side of the table looking like that.

The red hoodie he had on this morning has been discarded, replaced by a t-shirt with rolled-up sleeves that showcased his toned biceps. As he shifted around the scattered textbooks, his tongue peeked out between his lips in concentration.

Jaemin’s presence plus the constant remembrance of the dream only amplified your struggle to stay focused.

Instead, your (lovely) brain decided to entertain you with intense fantasies of clawing at his biceps while you rode him. You’re sure he’s a groaner. It’s almost visual in your head, the way he’d tip his head back and growl at the feeling of you splitting yourself on his cock. You know he talks you through it too.

“Got any guesses on the size?”

"W-What?" You stammer, a twinge of anxiety hitting you, concerned you might have been caught daydreaming.

Jaemin cards a hand through his hair and smirks, “The sample size, y/n? Have you not been paying attention for the last twenty minutes?? We’re trying to solve for the sample size.” He blows air through his teeth in annoyance, “I swear it feels like I’m just doing your homework for you sometimes.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired.” You mutter, “How about I do the next five by myself and have you check over them after?”

"Sounds good. Don't hesitate to ask if you have any questions," he responds casually, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning his attention back to his own work.

It annoyed you how smart he was too. And he rarely got distracted when he was studying. It’s like he gets automatically switched to hyperfocus mode. Nothing breaks his concentration. It’s such a weird version of Jaemin, but one that you’ve grown accustomed too during the study sessions. Any other time of day and he’s chatting up girls and doing stupid dares that normally got him in trouble with the campus police. It’s happened too many times to count.

The gods favor him, you think, beauty and brains.

Your gaze inadvertently shifts to the main floor of the library. Through the transparent walls, you see Haechan sitting at his own table. He looked bored, his lips set in a pout and a crease drawn between his eyebrows. Bored and frustrated. But he also looked good as hell.

He pushes his hips up to get comfortable in the hard plastic chair he was in, and the grey sweatpants do nothing to hide the painfully obvious outline of his cock. Arousal bells start going off in your head, and you think you might just faint out of pure horniness.

You watch him pick up his phone.

A buzz sounds on the table, coming from your own phone.

(1:51 PM) Weird guy from the street: stop staring at me

There’s literally no way he could have known you were looking at him unless he had been sneaking glances at you too. The thought makes you blush.

(1:51 PM) Y/N: not staring at u weirdo

(1:52 PM) Y/N: simply looking through the window

(1:52 PM) Y/N: not my fault ur big ass head is blocking the view

You peak at him, and this time he’s looking dead at you with a big frown on his face.

(1:52 PM) Weird guy from the street: okay ouch

(1:53 PM) Weird guy from the street: but ur eyes r literally burning holes in me

(1:53 PM) Weird guy from the street: if you wanna fuck so bad, just meet me upstairs :)

A snort sounds at the back of your throat, catching Jaemin's attention as he glances up from his textbook.

"Just searching for the equation I need," you confess sheepishly, raising your phone in explanation.

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything, so you go back to texting.

(1:54 PM) Y/N: u wish loser

From the other side of the glass, you watch him throw you a middle finger.

(1:54 PM) Weird guy from the street: okay but seriously meet me upstairs

(1:54 PM) Weird guy from the street: it’s SERIOUS!!!

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: i promise

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: swear on jeno’s hockey career

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: don’t tell him i swore on that or he’ll kick my ass again

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: just meet in the geology section.. never seen anybody up there

You send a final text

(1:56 PM) Y/N: fine, but if this is a trick, i’m kicking your ass.

Your chair emits a loud scraping sound as you push it back to stand up. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom before my brain explodes. Be right back.” You explain, and Jaemin nods.

The echo of your footsteps resonates through the quiet library as you navigate your way to the geology section. The fluorescent lights above flicker intermittently, casting occasional shadows that dance along the bookshelves. You can't help but wonder why Haechan chose such a weird ass place to meet.

Decorative rocks are showcased throughout this section of the library, and in the back of your mind you wonder who in their right mind would study geology. Rocks?

“Took you long enough.” Haechan teases, emerging from the shadows between two bookshelves. You squint at him, your eyes still adjusting to the unexpected appearance.

"Why do you have to be so extra?" you quip, recovering from the surprise. It's the second time today he's managed to catch you off guard.

"Extra is my middle name, darling," he grins, leaning casually against the shelves. You secretly wish they would give in and collapse just for the sake of a good laugh.

"Cut the dramatics, Haechan. Why am I here?" you demand, crossing your arms.

"I want to know what you’re doing with Jaemin," he deadpans, peering up through his long lashes. "Because for the past thirty minutes or so, you've been practically drooling over him." He checks his wrist adorned with a silver watch you gifted him last Christmas, "And I've been keeping track, by the way. Don't bother denying it; I've got eyes everywhere."

You roll your eyes, annoyance creeping in. "That's bordering on stalker behavior, you know."

He casually shrugs, unfazed. "Answer the question."

"I'm studying with Jaemin. What else would I be doing?" you retort, finding the situation utterly ridiculous.

"Sure, you're not one of his study buddies?" Haechan drawls, dragging out the second-to-last word and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You resist the urge to roll your eyes again, realizing you've walked right into his stupid trap.

You glare pointedly. “Just because you caught me looking at another man that isn’t you doesn’t mean I want to fuck him.”

“Oh sweetheart, I didn’t say anything about fucking him.” Haechan replies with a sly grin.

“You implied it!” You huff, jabbing him in the chest with a manicured finger.

He clutches the spot and winces at pain. “Damn your nails are sharp.”

“Why am I really up here.” You were becoming impatient. Perhaps you should have known that Haechan would waste your time. There was nothing of importance for you between these stupid, dusty, rock filled shelved.

A part of you did know it, though. And that part was practically begging Haechan to shove you against the shelves and start fucking your brains out.

You squash that part down. Deep down.

Haechan sighs and takes a tentative step backwards, “Honestly, I was bored and just wanted to mess with you.” You open your mouth to chastise him, but he cuts you off before you can, “But now that we’re on the topic of fucking Jaemin –”

“Don’t think we’re on the same topic here.” You interject.

He keeps going without missing a beat, “I just thought you should know about his....habits” His face beams in pride, as if this super-secret tidbit of information could solve world hunger.

"His habits?"

Haechan takes a step towards you, "Yeah...his dirty, filthy habits."

"What are you getting at Haechan?"

The boy in front of you, eyes you up and down before speaking slowly, "You're telling me you don't know?"

You narrow your eyes at Haechan, feeling a mix of confusion and suspicion. "Know what exactly? Stop beating around the bush and just spit it out."

Haechan smirks, relishing the moment. "I just thought you should know that he fucks girls here after hours."

“In the geology section?” You question, skepticism etching your features.

“In the library dumbass.” Haechan retorts, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. His eyes lock onto yours, daring you to challenge him.

“Yeah right.”

He stomps his foot in a childlike manner. “I’m serious.”

Your disbelief lingers. "I don't believe you. It's literally patrolled by security after hours," you assert, your arms crossing defensively over your chest.

Haechan rolls his eyes, seemingly accustomed to your skepticism. "Y/n, me and Jeno used to think Jaemin was rocking your shit back when he started tutoring you."

A wry smile creeps onto your face. "How lovely."

“I mean, now we know you just need help with stats –”

“It’s a hard subject.” You defend yourself.

Sure, you’d never been good at math like others, but statistics was a hard class. And your professor made it even more boring with her monotoned voice.

“I know, cheated my way through an A.” Haechan admits, flashing a beaming smile. “Anyways, he has an entire roster of girls he brings to the library after hours. Honestly, you’re the only girl I’ve seen him actually tutor.” The soft glow of the library lights casts a warm hue on the leather-bound volumes that surround you and you notice it illuminates the curve of Haechan’s jaw too.

“Haechan, I swear if this is a prank or a set up.”

He gives another stomp to the worn-out carpet, "Why would I be lying about this?" he insists, his expression genuinely serious. "You know what, meet me here Friday night at nine thirty."

“The library closes at eight.”

“Back entrance is always open.” He winks at you, and you playfully swat his arm. “Gonna prove that I’m not lying.”

“Whatever.”

You find yourself baffled by Haechan's sudden revelation about Jaemin's supposed "dirty habits." There's a lingering question in your mind – why is Haechan even sharing this information with you in the first place? As the absurdity of the situation sinks in, you can't help but wonder what prompted him to bring you to this secluded spot just to share peculiar details about Jaemin's life.

Is he threatened by your sudden interest - if he really was catching on to the fact that you were after Jaemin.

A few beats pass before he’s nudging your shoulder. “So?” He jostles your arm with his own until you swat at him again, “You’ll meet me here?”

“Sure, Haechan.” In truth, you had nothing better to do. And maybe you could use this to your advantage. The next part of this stupid challenge was to fuck Jaemin anyways, and what better way than to use his rendezvous spot to do so.

If Haechan was telling the truth.

“We should make out.”

You slide your eyes to his and cock your head, “In your dreams Hyuckie.”

The day was winding down, and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the university campus. You trudged back to your dorm, feeling the exhaustion from a day filled with studying and more homework than you could manage.

Echoes of distant laughter and the occasional sound of a slamming door fill the hallways as you climbed the stairs to your floor, anticipation building to catch up with your roommate, Jennie.

You didn’t mean to completely ghost her the last couple weeks, but between classes and the challenge…well, you had your mind full.

The door is swinging open before you can get your key in the lock, and you’re met face to face with her.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up! I swear I never see you anymore. You leave before I’m up and come home after I’m asleep!"

Apologizing, you step inside and close the door behind you, embracing your roommate. "I know, I know. It's been crazy lately," you admit, setting your bag down and following her to the living room.

Jennie raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me." she teased.

"Never.” It’s true. Jennie was the one person in the world who you could relax around. “So, what’s been up with you.”

She sighed dramatically, as if she'd been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and plops down on the couch. You do the same. “Sorority stuff, you know how it is. Rush week is killing me. Drama, drama, drama. Oh, and did I mention Jaehyun broke up with his girlfriend? The whole campus is losing its mind over him, including maybe me," she added with a sly grin.

Your eyes widen at the news. "Jaehyun broke up with his girlfriend? That's big news! Why did they break up?" you inquired, curious about someone else’s drama.

Maybe it could distract you from your own.

Jennie leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "No one knows for sure, but there are rumors. Apparently, she cheated on him.”

“Why on earth would she cheat on him?”

She giggles, “That’s what I’m saying! He’s like the hottest guy on campus. She’s definitely mental if she cheated on him. If he was mine…”

“Make him yours.”

“Y/N!” she giggles and playfully shoves your arm.

You break out in a smile too, “Well, if he is single, now’s your chance!”

Jennie shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Who knows?” She tugs a blanket off the back of the couch and wraps it around her thin body, “Anyways, enough about me. What’s been keeping you so busy? You haven't even had time for Mark. He's been asking about you by the way."

You sighed, feeling guilty for neglecting your friends. "Classes have been crazy, and Jaemin and I have been hitting the books together. Speaking of which, he's been a lifesaver. I wouldn't survive this semester without him."

Jennie smirked playfully. "Oh, Jaemin, huh? Is there something I should know?"

You rolled your eyes, swatting her arm this time. "No, nothing like that. He's just a great study partner."

She raised an eyebrow, a knowing expression on her face. "Sure, just a study partner?”

It funny how fast you break into a cold sweat.

“W-What do you mean?”

“I mean..” She drags the words out and for a second you think she’s gonna accuse you of sleeping with him. Or at least accuse you of having the hots for him. “I’ve studied with him. So, I know that studying doesn’t always mean studying.”

“Oh my god. You think I’m fucking him?”

I haven’t yet, you think.

“I’m just asking!”

“No, I promise he’s just helping me with stats homework.” You hold up two fingers, “Scouts honor.”

She rolls her eyes, “Look, I wouldn't blame you if you were sleeping with him. Been there done that.”

You wonder if she’s one of the girls Haechan seemed so sure Jaemin fucked in the library after hours. It’s not like you would ever ask her. But your mind wanders nonetheless.

“Trust me, I’m not.”

“Maybe you should.” She suggests in thought, “I mean he definitely knows his way around a girls body.”

You cover your eyes in embarrassment, “Oh my god, gross!”

She holds up her hands like she’d been caught, “I think you need to let loose. Just giving you a recommendation.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Speaking of letting loose, I have a sorority event this Friday, and I want you to come. It's a big reveal for my little, and I want you there."

You hesitate. "I appreciate the invite, but I'm actually hanging out with Haechan that night."

There’s a part of you that wants to add the fact that you’re really just trying to catch Jaemin in the act of fucking in the library. But with the way the conversation just went…maybe that was best kept to yourself.

Jennie's expression shifted from excitement to a subtle disappointment. "Come on! I never see you anymore. Can't you ditch Haechan for one night? It'll be a blast, and you'll get to meet some great people. Plus, you need a break from that annoying prick."

You forget that Jennie doesn’t like Haechan, recalling drunken nights where she spent hours cursing him out for embarrassing her during her own rush experience. Apparently, he was her date and got too drunk which ended in him throwing up all over her dress. It’s a miracle she got a bid for the house she wanted.

Feeling a bit guilty, you sighed. "Alright, fine. I'll come. But only because you're my best friend, and I miss spending time with you."

Jennie's face lit up, and she practically squealed in delight. "Yes! It's going to be so much fun. You won't regret it."

The night stretched on with the two of you quickly settling into the cozy routine of a girls’ night in. You ordered some delicious takeout, stocked up on snacks, and found yourselves comfortably sprawled on the couch with episodes of Love Island playing on the tv. Fairy lights twinkled over your entangled figures as you both became engrossed in the latest romantic drama on the screen.

It was a nice reprieve from the boys you’d been constantly drowning around.

But watching the couple on screen makes your mind drift to thoughts of Jaemin. His body caging you against the wall of a study room, eventually laying you back on the table scattered with textbooks and eating you out. His pink hair caught between your fingers…

The thoughts worm their way into your dreams when you and Jennie eventually drift off to sleep, curled on the couch, not wanting the night to end.

Aside from the frat parties, drunken nights, and time well spent with friends, college was actually very fucking boring.

The week breezes by with boring lectures, hastily eaten lunches, and so much damn homework that you genuinely begin to think you’re drowning. You almost turn in a quiz too late on Monday and decide from then on that you’d lock yourself away till your schedule looked a little less hectic.

And that led to a very boring and very sleepy Friday.

The lecture hall was dimly lit, and the professor's monotone voice droned on about the intricacies of music theory. You were struggling to keep your eyes open, staring blankly at the notes you'd given up on comprehending. The only thing getting you through this intolerable day was the weekend ahead (Even though you had to meet Mark on Saturday for a stupid group project), and the coffee you had gotten with Jennie that morning.

She made sure to dutifully remind you of her sorority event that night, which in turn reminded you of your library date with Hyuck.

Like you could forget.

After that, and your morning stats class (where you promptly took a little nap despite your determination to genuinely understand the subject), you met up with Jeno for lunch. It wasn’t so bad, until Jaehyun crashed at the table and stole Jeno’s attention to talk about hockey plays for their game on Sunday.

Awkwardly trying to avoid him and the rumors that were spreading on campus (and because you had no idea what a bar down or hat-trick was), you promptly left and got to your music theory lecture early.

Which at this moment felt like a place where pretty things came to die.

You couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh. The boredom was reaching unbearable levels, and you questioned your life choices that led you to enroll in this class. It’s not like you needed it to graduate. The spot was simply open, and you needed another class.

Just as you were contemplating an escape plan, the door swung open with a loud bang.

Mark rushed in, disheveled and panting. Everyone turned to stare at him, including you. He apologized to the professor, who simply gestured for him to take a seat. You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the sight.

Mark Lee was…a character. You met him through Hyuck, who introduced him as the love of his life. Mark had grinned awkwardly and shuffled away from Haechan’s body after that comment, instead choosing to question you about your major and interests. It was then that you both became friends too. Albeit, casual friends. (Except for the one time freshman year that you had hooked up in the science building bathroom)

He was there to gossip with, grab lunch, and aid you through music theory (which you didn’t know a damn thing about). He was exceptionally talented and hardworking, show cased through his double major in theology and music theory. A weird combination, but after getting to know his religious background and affinity for guitar playing, you thought it was perfectly spot on for him.

Like Jaemin, he dyed his hair bright ass colors whenever he was on the verge of a breakdown. This weeks’ color was black with silver sideburns. Somehow, he pulls it off quite well.

"What's up?" you whispered to Mark as he settled into the chair beside you.

He looked worn out. It was barely one pm, but the ruffled hair, wrinkled clothes, and half on-half off jacket, makes him look like he’d been hit by a tornado on his way to class.

His mouth is set in a flat line when he glances over at you, “Hyuck, is what’s up.”

“Hyuck?”

The professor sends a pointed glare at the two of you, and mark smiles sheepishly before leaning in to tell you the rest, his voice hushed, “Yeah. Went over to his dorm to grab my notebook that I left last night, and the dumbass was wasted.”

“Like, drunk?” you question, because as you recall, it was barely one pm.

“Drunk as fuck.” Mark deadpans.

Your eyebrows shoot up, “It’s the middle of the day?”

“Yeah, I told him that many, many times.” Mark digs around his backpack, trying to find a pencil to catch up on the lecture he missed, “All he kept doing was stumbling around, asking for cheesecake–”

When you open your mouth to question it, Mark cuts you off.

“I don’t really know why.” When he finds the pencil at the bottom of his bag, he snorts in triumph and continues, “So he kept asking for cheesecake, started bawling when I told him there was none, and finally, when I wrestled him into his bed, he started telling me about you.”

Your body freezes impossibly fast, gaze nervously darting around the room. Maybe if you didn’t look Mark in the eyes, then you could forget what he said and pretend that the words never left his mouth.

No, of course not. Time to bite the bullet.

“Me?” You squeak.

“He told me a lot about you actually.” The way Mark is looking, his arms crossed and an expression that can only be described as accusatory, can mean only one thing.

“He told you about…”

You want to leave the lecture hall and punch Lee Donghyuck yourself when mark responds.

“Yep.”

“Fuck.” You should have known Hyuck couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “What did he say.”

It was Marks turn to glance around the room, just in case anyone was listening in. When all is clear, his voice drops even lower, “He said you guys fucked after Jaehyuns party. And that it was the best sex of his life – well, the only sex of his life. Was he telling the truth?”

Now’s your chance to lie and set the record straight that you never slept with Haechan. Though, with Mark’s tone, you already knew that he knew the right answer.

“Yeah…We did, but it was just a convenience thing. He happened to be at the right place, at the right time. It was nothing more than that.”

Oh, how you wished those words were true.

It would severely less-complicate things.

Mark chuckles nervously, “I’d avoid him if I were you. Because dude, it was so much more than that to him.”

Your biggest fear is confirmed with his words. How dumb could you be to think that taking his virginity wouldn’t lead to him having some weird clingy attitude towards you. You should have known better.

“I can’t avoid him. I have to meet with him tonight.” You hiss.

Mark shrugs, “I don’t know if he’ll even be awake, dude passed out hard. I mean, I set his alarms, so who knows.”

“Maybe…”

“Anyways, dude – OW!”

A flying drumstick clips Mark in the head, and he hurriedly rubs the spot, wincing. The professor, arms crossed, looks at the both of you in displeasure.

Bursting into a fit of giggles, you realize that this day was definitely not going to be boring anymore.

As you sit in your cozy apartment engrossed in a book, your phone buzzes, pulling you out of the fictional world. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Hyuck.

(8:52 PM) Weird guy from the street: can you come open the door

(8:52 PM) Weird guy from the street: my key isn’t working for some reason

Your eyebrows furrow as you read the message "Key? Hyuck has a key?" You mutter to yourself. You've always assumed that when he showed up randomly at your apartment, it was because Jennie, your roommate, had let him in.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you head to the door. As you swing it open, there stands Hyuck.

"Hey," he greets, a indefinable glint in his eyes. "Can I come in?"

You step aside, allowing him entry, "When did you get a key?”

He chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I don't have a key. That's the thing."

You cross your arms and pop an eyebrow, "You literally just texted me saying your key isn’t working."

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hyuck…” You grumble, “How is it that you randomly show up in the apartment then?”

He smirked, teasingly. "Magic. Or maybe Jennie's magic. I just show up, and the door opens. But seriously, I don't have a key."

You decide to drop the matter. It really wasn’t worth the headache of going back and forth with him. Besides, you really should have caught on sooner. Jennie didn’t like him, yet he was always here to pester you.

“Right…. Are you still drunk?”

“That, I am not.” He walks further into the apartment and starts messing with the stack of papers on the counter – shuffling them. “Mark made sure to leave me the usual hangover cure on my nightstand, so I don’t feel sick either.”

“You know, it’s not really proper to get drunk in the middle of the school day.” You chastise him. There’s not really a reason as to why you’re lecturing him. Can’t a friend just be worried about her other very problematic friend?

His counter comes quick, “I never claimed to be proper. If you took a walk inside my brain, you’d understand.” When you meet his gaze, he gives you a teasing wink. “Now are we ready to go see some girl get her back blown out.”

“Not the words I would use.” You mutter, grabbing your keys and phone off the coffee table in the living room and following Hyuck to the library for the second time that week.

Surprising to you, he keeps the banter to a minimum during the entire five-minute walk. Only once does he comment on your outfit, even though it was a totally normal outfit. Yet according to him you were wearing a ‘too-short cheerleading skirt that showed your ass way too much.’

Besides the one little quip, he kept his mouth shut.

What was even more surprising (as if anything could top Haechan shutting up), was that the library was way too easy to break in to.

Well, does it count as breaking in if it was left unlocked?

According to Hyuck, no. To authorities, probably.

Navigating back to the geology section was easy. All you had to do was take the staircase in the back. Honestly though, it was a bit creepy. The empty library creaked and echoed at the slightest touch. Hyucks heavy steps on the stairs made you jump which made him break his silence and tease you for the rest of the way up.

You didn’t realize this before, but the geology section perfectly overlooked the main floor of the library. Provided, there was a bookshelf blocking the ledge, which added another layer of privacy.

Hm…Hyuck wasn’t a liar.

Na Jaemin was in fact in the library, with a girl at his side, studying, after hours.

Yet, that’s all they were doing – studying. The girl furiously scribbled in her notebook while Jaemin watched. He points out what you assume to be a mistake and the girl giggles, flipping over her pencil to scrub the paper with the eraser.

There’s no denying that they sat closer than normal. She leaned into Jaemins shoulder, and his hand was under the table – probably resting on her thigh. But nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be occurring.

You go to turn around and confront Hyuck. Maybe tell him to shove a rock up his ass. But the front of his body hits your back, caging you against the bookshelf.

“Hyuck…” you warn, voice low.

“Just watch.” He murmurs, arms encircling your waist to pull you closer.

Marks words lick up your spine like a fire, singing every nerve in your body.

It meant so much more to him.

Haechan's exhalations reach you in delicate, soft wafts, caressing the back of your neck and eliciting a tingling sensation as the hairs on your skin stand on end. "See." he murmurs. A shiver runs through you as he traces his fingers along your arms, whispering, "I don't want to say I told you so, but..." he clicks his tongue, nosing your shoulder, "I told you so."

Your gaze remains fixed as Jaemin playfully pulls the girl onto his lap, their textbooks now abandoned and ignored. As she molds herself against him, the hem of her shirt lifts, and Jaemin's fingers instinctively find the revealed skin, tracing intricate patterns. At some point, his hand slips entirely under her t-shirt and drags higher and higher. You can hear his quiet murmurs, between kisses - compliments of her body, her lips, her taste.

It's selfish to think, but Jaemin should be saying those words to you. And maybe that makes you a little on edge – a little pissed off.

"They're only making out," you argue back, voice quiet, "This doesn't prove shit. Even I've done this."

You feel Haechan jolt back in surprise, unanswered questions flooding the tip of his tongue. With who? he wants to ask, but he doesn't. If anything, the questions fuel his eagerness to prove you wrong. He knows Jaemin. For fucks sake, they've been roommates since freshman year.

There's a bite to his tone when he speaks up again, "Just watch."

So, you do.

You watch as Jaemin loses himself in this girl completely, all the while wishing it was you. But no, instead, you're stuck peering through bookshelves, while Haechan presses himself into you from behind at the same time Jaemin pushes his hips up.

"Is this turning you on?" you hiss, head whipping sideways to look at him.

His head dips down to nip at your earlobe, “So?”

“You’re such a pervert.”

“And you aren’t?”

Fair point.

Though, your sexual tendencies were far from voyeuristic, you can’t help but enjoy the scene in front of you – the secret thrill of watching Na Jaemin.

Haechan’s hands slip under the hem of your shirt, mirroring Jaemin. “Want me to stop?” he mumbles.

The argument that breaks out in your head doesn’t hold a candle to the way your body reacts, because maybe, just maybe, letting Haechan fuck you between the shelves of the library isn’t such a bad idea. However, spying on Jaemin, and wishing it was him instead, might be.

But Haechan doesn’t have to know.

And after all, what he doesn’t know can’t kill him.

You shake your head no, sensing his grin against the side of your neck, “I figured as much.”

Jaemins low groan carries across the empty library, and the mere sound leaves goosebumps crawling up your spine.

So, he is a groaner.

You knew it.

Haechans voice replaces the sound, “How about you spread your legs like a good girl and let me take care of you?”

“Right here?” You hiss.

“Is that okay?” He cranes his head over your shoulder so that you could just barely make eye contact, and suddenly you’re transported back to that first night with Haechan. The innocence in his gaze, the longing, the willingness to please you. He just wants to show you that he can take care of you – more than anyone ever could.

Won’t you let him?

Silently, you nod your head – and Haechan wastes no time.

As his fingertips glide along your arms, tiny goosebumps rise in their path. Once they reach the tips of your fingers, he intertwines them with yours, creating a seamless connection, then gently presses both hands against the sturdy shelf of books. The tip of his tongue finds your neck again, swirling patterns into the skin, and the sensation of his touch sends shivers down your spine.

You want to stay like this – focused on Haechan – but the thought that you were missing the real show on the bottom floor, makes you turn your attention to the other two occupants of the library.

It’s unfortunate that the girl in Jaemins lap decided to wear jeans, because watching her struggle to undo the button, while your best friend observes impatiently, makes your head spin. He looks like he wants to rip them off her without a second thought. Instead, he smacks her hands aside with a cheeky grin and swiftly undoes it, shoving his big hand down the front of her jeans. You can’t hear what he whispers into the shell of her ear, but her breathy moans pour from parted lips, carrying across the library.

Haechan’s teeth nip at your shoulder as he untangles one of his hands from yours and curls it around the waist band of your skirt.

“No–” you mumble, “Don’t wanna get undressed here…just…push my panties to the side or something.”

Haechan’s eyes widen behind you, though you can’t see. You only hear the grunt that escapes his lips as he obeys, roughly twisting them to the side.

A shiver runs through you, the stark contrast between how he is now and how he was the other night. He’s rougher now, less gentle, less tender. It’s as if he has something to prove—maybe holding onto you with a firmer grip is the only way for him to believe it’s real. To convince himself that you’re truly his for a second time, even though you swore it would never happen again.

You barely register the sound of foil tearing before his hand moves between you, the cool slide of latex against your skin making your breath hitch. He works quickly, efficiently, like he’s done this a thousand times before—like he can’t afford to waste a second more. The anticipation coils tight in your stomach, and you swear you’re already dizzy by the time he presses against you again.

You have to slap a hand over your trembling lips when Haechan pushes his cock into you so roughly that you tilt forward and nearly lose your footing. His knuckles brushing the inside of your thigh from holding your panties to the side feels like zaps of electricity, and your eyes flutter close again.

This is so bad of you. So very bad. But you don’t mind it. Because right now, he’s fucking you so hard and so fast that you haven’t had any time to adjust. No time to think.

The shelf is shaking, but Haechan can’t find the willpower to care. He can’t find the willpower to care about anything. He doesn’t care if you don’t like him the same. He doesn’t care if you’re just doing this because it’s the right place, right time. He doesn’t care if it’s only happening because you’re enjoying the sight of Jaemin and that girl. He doesn’t fucking care.

Not when he’s the one fucking you, pushing you against the shelves so hard they might just fall over. And when you sigh his name, so breathy and whiny and so perfectly his, he reaffirms that he doesn’t fucking care.

You chose this moment.

You chose him.

If only for a night.

But he’ll take a night. He’d take anything you’d give him – anything you’d be willing to spare.

He feels like he’s transcended the astral plane, the way you suck him in, pussy so wet he’s nearly slipping out with each thrust.

Jaemin is losing his mind too. This girl – whatever her name is – just won’t shut up. She’s babbling about how hot he is, how sexy it is that she’s on his lap right now, how she can’t believe they’re doing this in the middle of the library.

All he wants to do is fuck her mouth so she’ll shut up.

You know that look — the one Jaemin gets when he's on the edge of annoyance. A flicker of doubt crosses your mind. Does he know you're up there watching? Maybe that's what’s setting him off. For a brief second, your heart clenches, cold and uncertain — but then Haechan's lips find your neck, scattering your thoughts like they were never there.

His hand reaches up the front of your body, enclosing itself around your throat. At the same time, Jaemin's hand tightens around the girl's throat, his fingers pressing into her skin with the same slow, deliberate intensity. A choked gasp slips from her lips, mirroring the way your breath shudders under Haechan’s touch. The sight of them, so perfectly aligned, sends a sharp thrill down your spine. “How does it feel?” He mumbles, squeezing just a bit, so that your response comes out quiet and strained.

“Feels good.”

“Just good?

“Feels perfect.” You gasp out.

The room feels hotter as their hands move in sync—tight, possessive. Haechan's thumb brushes along your jawline, eyes flicking between your parted lips and the way your breath catches under his grip. Jaemin mirrors him perfectly, leaning in close to the girl whose whimper fills the space.

“Perfect, huh?” Haechan taunts low in your ear, voice dripping with cocky amusement. His fingers flex around your throat, just enough to make your pulse race.

Jaemin's fingers disappear further down the girl's jeans, knuckles flexing as he works her open — soft wet sounds carrying through the dead silence of the library. His eyes are lidded, lips curled into that lazy, cocky grin you know so well. The one that says he knows exactly what he's doing to her — what he should be doing to you.

Haechan's hips snap harder behind you, forcing your cheek against the cold shelf as the books rattle in protest. His breath is hot on the side of your face, voice low and taunting. "You wish it was him, don't you?"

Your nails scrape against the wood, trying to find something — anything — to ground yourself as the shame pools hotter between your legs.

"No," you lie through clenched teeth.

Haechan laughs, breathless and mean. His hand snakes up your chest, pushing under your shirt to grab at your tits. He squeezes hard enough to make you arch into him, hips rolling back against his cock. "Liar," he spits. "You're dripping down my dick watching him finger some random bitch."

Your eyes snap open, finding Jaemin again. His mouth is on her neck now, pink tongue flicking against the delicate skin as she writhes in his lap. His free hand fists her hair, holding her still — the same way he playfully does with you when he’s holding something high above his head that you can’t reach.

Fuck.

Haechan feels the way your pussy clenches around him at the sight, and the cruel grin that spreads across his face makes your stomach flip. "Filthy little slut... you like pretending I'm him?"

You shake your head no, but Haechan catches your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look straight through the shelves. Straight at Jaemin.

"Then keep your eyes on him while I fuck you. Since that's what you want so bad."

Heat flushes through your entire body — humiliation, desire, and something darker twisting in your gut. You shouldn't want this. You shouldn't want to be fucked like a ragdoll while imagining your best friend is the one splitting you open. But the way Haechan's cock is stretching you — brutal and unrelenting — makes it so fucking hard to care.

The girl on Jaemin's lap starts whining, hips rocking against his hand. Jaemin's mouth drops open in a soft moan, head tipping back against the chair. His fingers are moving faster now — slick, dirty sounds echoing through the stacks.

Haechan's lips brush your ear, voice syrupy sweet. "Wanna come together, baby? Wanna let him hear how good we're being up here?"

You're so close — thighs trembling, pussy clenching around him with every punishing thrust. And the worst part is... you do want it. You want Jaemin to hear you. You want him to know exactly what you're doing — what he's missing out on. What Haechan gets to have while he wastes his time with girls who won't ever know him the way you do.

Haechan's fingers find your clit, rubbing fast, messy circles that send sparks shooting up your spine. "That's it," he groans, hips stuttering. "Come for me, baby. Let him hear how fucking good I fuck you."

A sudden rustle echoes through the library — footsteps approaching, heavy and deliberate. Your breath catches, panic slicing through the haze of pleasure.

You don’t want the pleasure to stop, but the sparks in your stomach are dying down with each jangle of keys you hear. When you turn your head, you see a flashlight sweeping through the aisles of books a few rows over.

“Haechan we gotta go.” You urge.

“W-Wait, just give me, ah fuck, give me two seconds.” He stammers out, hands squeezing and kneading your thighs as he gets closer and closer.

“Hyuck.” You warn,

“Please!” He whines, “I’m so fucking close.”

You roll your eyes and say the thing you know will get him to finish, “Be a good boy and cum for me.”

The words are barely a whisper, yet they cut through the tension like a knife. His body tenses, a low groan rumbling in his throat. His hips buck against yours one last time, a shudder running through him as he spills inside you. The sudden quiet after his release is deafening, broken only by the continued jangling of keys and the soft thud of approaching footsteps.

“Hurry up.” You whisper through gritted teeth.

Haechan curses under his breath, pulling out of you with a slick pop. He rips the condom off, glancing around frantically before stuffing it between the pages of a geology textbook.

“That’s disgusting.” You whisper.

He just shrugs.

"Okay," he breathes, his voice thick with spent desire. "Okay, we go."

He pulls away, and you quickly adjust your clothing, the sound of rustling fabric seeming impossibly loud in the silence. "Come on," you hiss urgently, fingers tightening around Haechan's arm as you dart through the labyrinth of shelves with desperate determination. This stupid fucking geology section was so damn difficult to navigate. Shelves of useless books and glass cases of rocks. You take a wrong turn and end up face to face with a wall.

“This way dumbass.” Haechan whispers, this time grabbing your hand and pulling you in the opposite direction.

Apparently, he knew exactly where to go, dragging you down a few corridors and finally to the back staircase that you had come up earlier. His hand tugs you down the steps so fast you think you might just tumble down them. But when you reach the bottom, he spares you a glance, “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

"Hey!” The security guard's shout jolts you, too close for comfort, and you both sprint away once more.

Navigating the bottom floor feels better; fewer shelves clutter the space, replaced by study room cubicles and vacant tables. You trail behind Haechan, relief flooding you as you spot the double doors illuminated by the red exit sign.

At last, you burst through the library doors, the cool night air a balm against the fevered heat of adrenaline that courses through your veins. But as you collide with a figure standing at the edge of the pathway, your heart lurches.

This was it. You were done for. Caught by the security guard for breaking the rules. You just hope they don’t throw you in jail. They couldn’t arrest you, could they?

"Jaemin?" Haechan gasps, his voice a breathless whisper that hangs in the air like a fragile thread.

Forget jail – you might just die here on the spot.

There Jaemin was, his hands holding your arms to steady you. God he really was just solid wall of muscle. But it was just him, no girl in sight.

He peers down at you, mouth dropped in surprise. “What are you two doing here?”

You and Haechan share a quick look and then speak at the same time. “Project.”

Jaemin releases his hold on you and takes a step back, “You don’t share classes.”

“I was helping him.”

“It’s due tonight.” Haechan affirms, still trying to catch his breath, “What were you doing here?”

It’s an accusatory statement – but you didn’t think Haechan had the balls to actually ask it.

Jaemin shoves his hands in his pockets and starts down the path. The both of you follow on his heels, “I was studying.”

“Right.”

“Well, are you guys coming back to the dorm to finish the project?”

“Can’t. I have to go to a Jennie thing, like, right now.” As if on cue, your phone pings with a slew of messages from her – all asking where the hell you were. “Can one of you guys go with me? She’s asking me why I’m late and she’s not gonna be satisfied unless I have a good excuse. But, if I bring one of you guys, she’ll understand.”

Haechan pipes up from beside you incredibly fast. Literally jumping at the chance, “I’ll go.”

“Don’t you have a project to finish?” Jaemin’s voice holds a note of skepticism as he turns his gaze to Hyuck, one eyebrow lifted.

Haechan’s expression falters for a moment, his defense tumbling from his lips, “Yeah, but–”

“You should probably head back to work on it.” You interject, tone firm.

Jaemin nodded in agreement.

If you could get Jaemin to go with you, perhaps the night would lead exactly where you wanted it too…with him between your legs, and another part of the challenge completed.

Sure, you felt bad about literally ditching the boy you were just fooling around with – who you literally made cum in less than ten minutes. But you had a duty. A responsibility.

Right?

Haechan just shoves his hands into his pocket and storms off towards his dorm without another word. Which, by the way, was not the norm for him. He always had to have the last word. Boy must really be butt hurt.

“Jaemin?” you began, turning to face him, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

“What do I get out of this?” Jaemin's response was quick, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he met your gaze.

You roll your eyes, searching for something that would tip the scale in your favor. “You get to see pretty girls in pretty dresses.”

“Fucking deal.”

So, turns out entering a sorority house in the middle of an event was not a respected nor appreciated thing.

Technically you wouldn’t have been late had Jaemin not insisted on stopping by his dorm so that he could change. He had ‘too many girls to impress’. And then, every outfit he chose, Haechan had some rude comment to make. Thus, making you late.

Girls around the room shoot dirty looks as you and Jaemin scramble in through the door. You tuck your head down, feeling the weight of their judgement. Jaemin, however, seemed to revel in the attention. Instead of trying to blend in, he unabashedly drank in the gazes directed your way. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he winked and waved to some of the girls around you. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his audacity.

What a manslut.

Thankfully, your entrance didn't manage to disrupt Jennie's announcement. The sorority president continued her speech from the front of the room, determined to maintain the flow of the event, even if her sisters were still glaring at you.

As Jennie finished calling the names of all the new sisters, the room erupted into cheers and applause.

Someone starts playing music.

Drinks start flowing.

Jaemin filters off with mumbled excuses of finding said drinks.

And you realize just how fucked you look, literally.

Your disheveled appearance didn't go unnoticed, as Jennie approached your huddled figure. Trying to smooth down your hair and straighten your skirt, she all but sprints over. Her eyes widen when she spots a hickey on your neck.

"You're not helping your case," Jennie teased, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You sure you didn't sleep with him?"

You chuckled nervously, clawing at the mark on your neck, "Not him, someone else."

“Someone else?” She questions, raising an eyebrow. A hint of guilt washes over you; perhaps it's time to open up to her. The expression she wears suggests that if you don't share the information willingly, she might claw it out of you.

You open your mouth and close it, almost mechanically. What were you going to say? Tell her that Haechan decided to have his fun between the shelves of the geology section. Jennie would kill you, like, actually murder you and dump your cold body in the quad fountain. She’s eyeing you expectantly.

“Actually, it was–”

“Y/n! Jennie!” Jaehyun's smooth voice interrupts, catching you off guard. You turned to see him, a playful glint in his eyes. He pushes past a group of people, smiling all the while. Luck must really be on your side this week, because Jennie turns away from you to embrace him, your expected confession already forgotten.

When she pulls away, she shoots you a look. If you squinted, you’d see her pupils replaced by little animated hearts. She really was into him.

“I didn’t know you were in a sorority Y/n.” He paused, eyes flickering between you and Jennie. "You both look amazing."

You chuckled, waving off the idea. "No sorority for me. I'm just here to support Jennie. She's the social butterfly tonight.”

Jennie beamed at the mention of her being a social butterfly, and Jaehyuns compliment, clearly enjoying the attention from both of you. "Oh, you two should chat. Y/n, meet Jaehyun. Jaehyun, this is Y/n, my roommate, best friend, partner in crime, etcetera."

Jennie doesn’t know that you’ve both met before, and you guess he doesn’t have the heart to explain it all to her. Unaware of your previous encounters, she continued her introduction “Jae, Y/n is amazing. She’s the one who introduced me to that new coffee shop I’ve been meaning to take you to!”

Jaehyun extends his hand, and you shook it, feeling a subtle spark as your eyes met. "Nice to officially meet you, Y/n. Jennie's been talking about you," he admitted, a smile playing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh, has she now?"

Jennie nodded enthusiastically. "Only good things, I promise! Mostly about the coffee joint."

“About that…” Jaehyun says, pulling out his phone from his pocket and tapping the screen a few times, “I’ve been meaning to get your number so we can go sometime.”

When he hands the phone to Jennie, she all but passes out. A beaming smile overtakes her features as she hastily inputs her number. “I sent myself a text, so you’ll know it’s me.” As Jennie handed back Jaehyun's phone, a newfound excitement radiated from her. "I can't wait for us to check it out together. It's my absolute favorite," she exclaimed, seemingly oblivious to how the boy was now smirking at you.

Jaehyun, still not looking in your roommates direction, gave a nod of agreement. "Absolutely, looking forward to it." He pockets his phone and leans against the wall.

Your roommate shoots you another look, this one of pure giddy delight. “Alright! I’d like to stay and chat with you guys all night, but I got a party to run! Being a Delta Gamma girl means I gotta run around like a chicken with her head cut off. I’ll catch you guys later though?” Jennie shot one last love-struck glance your way before gracefully maneuvering through the crowd, disappearing into the sea of partygoers.

As the music pulsed and the lively atmosphere continued around you, you found yourself standing with Jaehyun, both of you momentarily left to your own devices. Jaemin was nowhere to be found so you might as well enjoy the company of Jeno’s older half-brother.

Jaehyun, ever the smooth talker, leaned in a bit closer, his voice a low murmur over the music. "Well, it looks like it's just you and me now.”

“Seems like it.” You respond, not sure what to say, but Jaehyun interrupts what little silence there was.

"So, Y/n," He begins, "Tell me about Jeno. Been keeping an eye on him?”

Honestly, you hadn't crossed paths with Jeno much this week. The only time you managed to meet up was for lunch earlier in the day, and even then, Jaehyun decided to join, leaving your catch-up session with Jeno cut short.

"Well, I'm not his personal watchdog, but as far as I know he’s doing alright. He’s probably practicing for the game tomorrow.”

Jaehyun's smile widened, and he reached up to casually brush a strand of hair from your face. The gesture sent a subtle shiver down your spine. Why did he do that? That was literally so out of the blue. Especially when he just gave your roommate his number.

"Speaking of keeping an eye on things," he teased, his tone now laced with a hint of flirtation, "You seem like you need a drink. Want me to get you one?"

You glance around the room, searching for Jaemin so that you could excuse yourself, but he was nowhere to be found – still.

You sigh, “Yeah, sure. Why not? Surprise me.”

Jaehyun returned shortly with a drink in hand, and as you took a sip, he continued the conversation. "So, tell me about the party last weekend. Did you and Haechan enjoy yourselves?"

The mention of the party made you choke on your drink (that, and the fact that it was literally ninety-five percent tequila and five percent lemonade), surprised by the sudden shift in topic. “Me and Haechan? W-what do you mean?”

He couldn’t know, could he…?

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, smirking so wide his dimples hollowed out his cheeks. It was kind of cute – in an objective way, of course. “Well, you guys went off during spin the bottle, right?”

Oh, you had totally forgotten about that.

“Yeah, but we didn’t do anything.” You wave your hand in front of your face and take another sip of your drink. It wasn’t entirely a lie – you didn’t do anything at the party.

He hums and takes a sip of his own drink. Swallowing it hard, he gestures to you, “Well, I can clearly see a hickey on your neck, so who has the pleasure of getting at you?”

Your drink nearly becomes a choking hazard once more. Attempting to articulate a response, you struggle as the words seem to get caught in your throat. God damn tequila.

“Was it Jaemin?”

Now that…that about killed you. You wished it had been Jaemin’s lips on your neck, his hands on your body, his co- “Hate to burst your bubble, but me and Jaemin are just friends.” You give him a wry smile, “It was just some dude in my class.”

“Some dude?” He smirks, and those damn dimples come out again.

You nod, “Unfortunately.”

He lifts his cup to his lips and utters, almost muffled by the rim of the solo cup, "I bet I could do better."

“Is that so?” You quip, the words leaving your mouth faster than you can comprehend. There’s no justification for the thoughts seeping into your brain. This was supposed to be Jennies man. Jeno’s brother. A friend and nothing more.

But those dimples.

And that suit he was wearing. All black tie, shiny shoes, and crisp white button up.

You could blame it on the alcohol.

You could blame it on Haechan leaving you high and dry.

You could blame it on a million other things…

But one thing is for certain: You just might regret this in the morning.

You’re definitely going to regret this in the morning.

When the windows of his car fog up, you notice the faded presence of heart shapes delicately traced by the touch of someone’s finger.

Probably his ex.

Unfortunately, this is the only thing you manage to focus on while Jaehyun fisted a handful of your hair, yanking your head back. His thrusts were fast and pointed and damn near painful.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He groans.

Maybe if you could focus really hard, you’d be able to finish, but when he snakes his hand around your waist and starts rubbing the side of your leg, you realize that that wasn’t going to happen.

“Feel good?” The cockiness drips from his lips, and it almost makes you laugh. Poor thing, at least he was hot.

“Mhm.” It’d feel better if he slowed down and stopped jackhammering into you.

The leather seats of his car stick against your skin when you try to lift up onto your elbows. It was pretty spacious, but with Jaehyun all but laying on top of you, it felt more than cramped.

His hand rubs harder, “Don’t hold back baby, cum for me.”

Did he really believe you were close to finishing? You weren’t making any sounds, not shaking, not moaning for him to keep going or go faster. But genuinely, if you told him the truth, it would probably break his ego in half. Or prompt him to actually get better at sex.

You decide to just fake it. “Fuck Jae…Feels good.”

His voice is strained, “Don’t call me Jae.”

“Sorry–” You mumble, head dipping under the weight of his heavy hand that comes to grab at the back of your neck. His other hand was already wrapped up in your hair, but the other steadies himself while he continues to fuck into you.

“Call me daddy.” He breathes.

Of course he’d have a daddy kink.

You amp your voice up a bit “F-Fuck, daddy, love your cock.” Apparently, this was exactly what he wanted because he starts humming in satisfaction, “Want your cum.” You just wanted him to be done.

The tips of his ears turn red, pace faltering when the name rolls off your tongue. “Baby...fuck” He keeps it just like that, disjointedly fucking into you as he came – thank god he had a condom on. But he doesn’t pull out right away, instead keeping still until his breathing returned to normal. You just kinda awkwardly sit there, panting.

“That was really good.” He chuckles, pulling out and sitting down on the seat. You fix yourself too, sitting beside him. Your skirt is down on the floorboard, so you bend down to get it and start to put it back on. You felt sticky and sore and not satisfied at all.

The silence becomes more awkward than it should have been, so you speak up, “So…you have a daddy kink?”

He opens the car door and drops the condom on the ground – which was really fucking gross, but what other choice did he have?

“Yeah…I don’t know, it’s something new I guess.”

Continuing to awkwardly fumble around for something to say you ask another question, “Oh, you were experimenting?”

“I guess.” The awkwardness starts to creep back in again. He wasn’t good at pillow talking, was he? He wasn’t good at much anything when it came to sex, you guess. Throwing on his shirt, he starts to get dressed while you twist your hands together in your lap.

You shifted uncomfortably, “Um, I should probably go find Jennie,” you mumbled, avoiding direct eye contact with Jaehyun.

He seemed oblivious, choosing to focus on the button of his jeans, “Sounds good. Think ‘m gonna head home.” When he did look up, he gave you a genuine smile, “You okay to walk?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “I think I’m good.”

What is it with guys and asking if you were okay to walk after? It’s not like they’re paralyzing you with their magical cock.

As he sat there, you couldn't help but think this dude needed a serious sex ed lesson, and then a follow-up on how to treat a girl after putting her through... that.

“If you ever wanna do this again, you have my number,” he said casually.

You didn’t have his number, and you would never get it. You forced a smile, “Absolutely!”

He got out of the car, and you followed suit, stepping out onto the street and discreetly fixing your clothes so that it looked like you hadn’t been cramped in the back seat of someone’s car. He made his way to the driver’s side door and opened it, “You gonna be at the game on Sunday?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it. Jeno would kill me, you know.”

He nodded, seemingly unfazed, "Great, hopefully I’ll see you there."

You waved a half-hearted goodbye as he got into his car. When he pulled out of sight, you muttered to yourself, lesson learned, boundaries set.

Turning on your heel, you went back inside the sorority house. The vibrant energy of the party still pulsed through the air. You wonder where this night would have gone had you stayed. Too late for that now. Now you were just unsatisfied and pissed off.

Frowning, you spot Jaemin across the room sitting on a couch. Some girl has her arm thrown around him and they’re laughing. His pink hair falls into his eyes when he looks at her and she reaches a hand up to move the tumbled strands. Her other hand rubs his arms, and he annoyingly flexes. They were three seconds away from kissing and honestly, it pissed you off even more.

Rolling your eyes, you march over to him, damn near pushing people out of the way. Some tell you to watch where you’re going but you ignore them, entirely focused on Jaemin and whoever this girl was.

“Hey Y/N” he cheerfully greets, giving you a beaming smile, “This is Vera.” He gestures to the girl by his side

You grabbed his upper arm, shaking Vera’s grip off of his other one, and pulling him upright – away from her. "Come on, we're leaving," you declared, not in the mood for his flirtatious antics. His bicep flexes, and you find yourself even more desperate to get the fuck out of the sorority house and home to where you could give yourself a proper orgasm.

Jaemin protested, trying to resist your tug. "Dude, what the fuck.” He lowers his voice, “Can’t you see I’m with a girl.”

You shot him a stern look, "You're my date?? This is so rude."

Vera just gives a nervous laugh. Probably afraid that you’d hit her if she tried something. You wouldn’t, but she didn’t know that.

He chuckled, still trying to charm his way out of the situation, "Come on, don't be like that. She's cute, and I was just having a chat." He lowers his voice again, this time whining, “Dude we were just about to go back to her place, don’t fuck this up for me please!”

Ignoring his protests, you start to drag him toward the exit. He finally relented, realizing you were serious about leaving. As you reached the door, he turned to Vera and mouthed, "Call me!"

You shook your head, muttering under your breath, "Unbelievable."

Outside, the cool night air hit you, and you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the evening. "Note to self: choose Haechan next time."

The campus path stretched ahead as you stormed down it, frustration evident in every step. Jaemin followed behind for a few minutes until he got fed up. When he finally catches up, he grabs your shoulder and spins you around.

"What's got you so mad?" he asked, a bemused expression on his face.

You took a deep breath, deciding to let it out. "Jeno's brother.”

“What about Jeno’s brother? Did he try something…I swear to God Y/N, if he tried something-”

You cut him off, “He sucks at sex.” The embarrassment creeps up your spine the longer Jaemin stares at you with wide eyes.

“Wait you…” Jaemin burst into laughter, his amusement echoing through the pathway. "No fucking way…” He clutches his stomach and doubles over, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes like you just said the funniest thing in the world, “Jeno’s brother?”

You shot him a look, still seething, but Jaemin's laughter was contagious, and soon you found yourself smiling despite your annoyance.

"What? Did he have a small dick or something?” Jaemin teased, the corners of his lips still twitching with mirth.

Eyes rolling, you cross your arms over your chest. “More like he thinks giving me an orgasm means rubbing the side of my thigh for five minutes while he fucks like a jack rabbit.”

“Oh my god.” Jaemin doubles over in laughter again, “Now I know why his girl left him.”

“Not funny.”

“Come on,” He chuckles, “Don’t be mad, laugh it off.”

You sighed, "I'm not mad, Jaemin. I'm sexually frustrated."

The laughter died down instantly as Jaemin's expression shifted. "Oh," he says, a hint of realization dawning in his eyes.

"Yeah, oh," you replied, not expecting such a reaction. What was he thinking? And why was he looking at you like that?

After a moment of silence, Jaemin speaks up, his voice softer now. "I’ll do it.”

A breeze passes through the quad, making you shiver. You rub your arms to bring warmth back into them, barely registering Jaemins words, “You’ll do what? Fuck his ex better than he ever could?”

“No,” he chuckles, “I’ll fuck you better than he ever could.”

It’s almost like the world tips over and starts swimming in your vision, because there’s no way, on Gods green fucking earth, that Na Jaemin just offered to fuck you. What happened to not even touching you with a ten-foot pole? Was there sex pollen in the air or something? Did that girl slip something into Jaemins' drink? What happened to being just friends?

But Na Jaemin was just a boy

And you were just a girl. One that was in desperate need of an orgasm.

He seemed to pick up on your hesitation, prompting him to move a step closer and begin clarifying, “Look, I won’t make it weird or anything.” Extending his hand, he gently caresses your arm, and you allow it. “Just a friend helping out a friend, right?”

“But…Why?”

As long as you’d known Jaemin there was no sexual chemistry whatsoever. Except for the last couple weeks when this challenge shit started. But you could have sworn that was all one sided, stemming from your overactive, horny ass brain that needed to be satiated.

“I guess I have a thing for helping those in need…you know, tutoring and all.”

You chew on your bottom lip, “Makes sense…”

Could this night possibly help you complete the second part of the challenge? Was fucking Na Jaemin going to be this easy?

His hand continues to stroke the side of your arm and goosebumps break out on the exposed skin. “Come on Y/N, you deserve an actual orgasm after having to put up with that.”

You raise an eyebrow, “And you think you can give me one?”

“Oh I know I can. Multiple if you’d like.” His words bite through the air, confidence dripping from his lips. Except, instead of it being cocky and very not true like Jaehyun earlier, you could sense he was telling the truth. And thinking back to the video he showed you weeks ago, of him fucking that girl and making her squirt, you realize, Jaemin is exactly who you want right now.

But maybe you want him to work for it a little more, after all, he was the slut in the friend group. (Even if you were the one that already had two cocks in you tonight).

Taking a step closer, you gaze into his eyes, “You talk a big game, Na Jaemin.”

God, he looked fucking good. Button up slightly askew, taunt collar bones peeking through the top. You want to rip it right off of him and get to the muscle’s underneath.

He mirrors your stare, “And I can back it up.” Time stands still when he gives you a once over, biting his lip when he gets to the (as hyuck called it) short ass cheerleading skirt you wore, “Look, I won’t even cum if you don’t want me too. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Desperation rolls off his tongue, and if you had looked closely enough, you’d notice the front of his pants tightening. He never thought about you in this kind of way. You were always off limits to him. A girl he could never claim. But now…with you staring at him like you wanted to bite him (odd, though he’s gotten more feral reactions from other girls before), he can’t help but think about you naked in his bed. Begging for his cock. Begging for him. And well, that made him hard.

“Whatever I want?”

He repeats his words, “Whatever you want.” Voice dropping to barely above a whisper, he gives you another once over, “You can use me as your personal sex toy.”

“Oh, but I’m not Vera?” At this point, you were teasing him – and he knew it. “Thought you wanted her?”

He laughs, “Maybe, but you’re definitely prettier than her.” It catches him by surprise when he notices that it’s true. You were prettier than her. In fact, now that he’s noticing, you were prettier than about ninety five percent of the girls on this campus. How the fuck had he not noticed before? Or maybe he had…maybe this is the first time he’s wanted to admit it to himself. “Come on, I’m so much better than the rubber shit you’d be using if you went home alone.”

You step closer, almost chest-to-chest with him, “And how do you know I’d be using rubber; I have perfectly good hands-”

He leans in, bringing his face inches from yours, "Not better than mine." His eyes drift down to your lips, only to return and lock onto your gaze. "And we both know that."

There’s only a sliver of sanity left in your body to stop you from kissing him right then, right there, in the middle of campus.

“Jaemin.” You whisper.

“Yeah baby?”

That sanity was slipping further and further away.

“What’s the fastest route to your dorm?”

A. NOTE. read the the note at the beginning of this post. and don't forget to reblog :)

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#nct smut #jaemin smut #nct jaemin smut #nct dream smut #jaemin x reader #haechan smut #nct haechan smut #jaehyun smut #nct jaehyun smut #nct jaehyun x reader #nct haechan x reader #nct jaemin x reader #nct x reader

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dykeforhire · 1 month ago

Text

Feels Like Home

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x afab!reader

Description: a rather cozy evening in bed with the love of your life, Emily.

Warnings: 18+ smut (vaginal!fingering, oral!sex), bottom!emily, top!reader, reader is in love and so is Emily, quite fluffy and adorable and yeah... no use of y/n.

Word count: 4k

Playlist: Home - Depeche Mode

masterlist || read on ao3

a/n: this ones fairly short, I hope you enjoy!!

...

The room is cast in a glow of deep oranges and yellows as the bright late-summer sun sets for the evening, warming the room through the gaps of your half-drawn blinds, a slight breeze wisping from the cracked window and through the sheer curtains.

You haven’t been in bed long, just perched atop the covers with your back against the pillows— reading a few chapters of your latest vintage bookstore find whilst Emily showers.

Today was an easy day. After finishing up a case, it was time for paperwork—a lackluster day filled with sighs of boredom and far too many cups of coffee. You feel as though you should be happy when days like that come… but nothing beats the rush of adrenaline, or the buzzing of minds at work when there’s a case to solve.

You are thankful for this though; the warmth of your bedroom— the bedroom that you share with Emily.

After a hard day of work, you used to dread coming home to a partner, and having to talk about your day—what you did. You wanted nothing more than to be alone, to sit on the couch and wash away your sorrow and tiredness with a tall glass of whatever cheap booze you could find at the local convenience store.

But that way of thinking changed when Emily Prentiss wormed her way into your life.

Neither of you had meant for it to happen. She was a creature of similar habits… nights alone, drowning herself in work. The team teased both of you about your lack of social lives, but you’d just brushed it away.

You couldn’t help but notice that subtle, longing look in Emily’ eyes though. Stupid profiler brain.

All those late nights at Quantico, sitting at your adjacent desks— sharing thoughts and laughs. All the restless evenings in strange cities, sharing hotel rooms and splitting a bottle of drugstore wine while away on case… It brought a special bond between the two self-proclaimed loners of the BAU.

And everyone on the team seemed to notice it… except you and Emily, of course.

They teased and teased; whether it be Derek asking if it was a special date when you’d announce you were going for drinks with Prentiss, to which you’d shoot him down with ‘No Emily and I are just friends, I don’t have time for dating’. Or when Penelope tried to set up a girls’ night at your apartment, but then miraculously, she and JJ couldn’t make it— leaving you and Emily alone.

You hadn’t complained about that one though. The excitement bubbling in your gut at the thought of being alone with the undoubtedly beautiful brunette was palpable, but you just chalked it up as excitement towards getting drunk and having a nice time with your best friend.

But then again, that had also been the same night you and Emily had privately decided to start sleeping together for the sake of comfort and stress relief.

Just sex, nothing more.

Later that night you kissed those perfect, soft, heart-shaped lips for the first time—discovered what she tastes like, what it looks like when Emily Prentiss, not some random hookup, comes undone.

You knew from then on you were fucked, so tremendously fucked.

The next time you saw her at work, you couldn’t help but notice the flush on her cheeks as she sat across from you in the round table room— how she watched your hands as you spoke.

It didn’t take long before you slipped up and whispered ‘fuck, I think I love you’ into her hair as she came around your fingers, her panting breath dampening your neck and she fell apart above you. She just leaned back and looked at you after that, grinning.

‘I’ve been waiting so long to hear you say that,’ she whispered back. ‘I think I love you too’.

And now you’re here, about a year after that first fateful night— lying in your shared bed, in your shared apartment, reading a book, one that she recommended when you first became friends, while Emily showers in the next room.

You don’t really believe in the afterlife, but if you have to think of a form of heaven… this would be it.

The screech of the shower knob being shut off pulls you from your thoughts, you look over at the en-suite door— steam seeping out from the crack above the floorboards.

You smile, a real genuine smile, and place the worn down book on the bedside table— the page dog-eared, a habit you’d picked up from Emily.

With hands folded together in your lap, you wait.

You hear the humming of the fan switching on from the inside—she doesn’t like how cold it gets when it’s on—and then the door creaks open and there she is, Emily, the heat of her shower still steaming off her bare shoulders as she enters the cool bedroom.

Your heart swells as you look at your beautiful girlfriend, yours. Her already dark hair is almost black as it clings soggily to her face and neck— water droplets gathering in the dip of her collarbones and over shoulders. She’s bare-faced except for the tiny remnants of eyeliner smudged into her eyelashes, you think it suits her, and her lotion-smoothed skin sort of glows in the warm light of the sunset.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She grins, tugging the towel snug around her chest as she steps toward the dresser, sights set on putting on her usual sleeping attire, boy-short underwear and one of your old t-shirts that you’d already taken the liberty of setting out for her.

Your eyes follow her as she moves, dragging over the shape of her body beneath the thick and rather offensive fabric. The towel’s edge stops just short of her ass, and you find that to be quite rude.

The familiar burn of desire sets in your chest as you continue your observation, the swoop of her spine, the tiny bit of tummy peaking through the layers of the towel, the unmistakable outline of her hardened nipples. She is so fucking beautiful it hurts.

“Hello, gorgeous.” you smile back, a telltale ode to Barbra Streisand’s character in ‘Funny Girl’ with the Brooklyn twang in your voice. You sit up on the bed and scoot towards the foot of it. “Have a nice shower?”

“Yes, felt so good after today. Sitting at that desk destroys my back… might be my body telling me I’m actually getting old.” She chuckles, grabbing the clothes you set out and tossing them on the bed.

She steps closer to you and you let your eyes trail over her front, your smile growing.

“You are not old, Em…” you tilt your chin up at her, fingers reaching out to grasp at the fold of her towel. “Everyone’s body hurts after sitting in those god-awful chairs all day.” She relaxes into your touch as your hands run over her sides, pulling her to stand between your parted knees.

“I’m getting up there though… God, I can’t believe I’m gonna be forty…” Emily sighs, her eyes trailing over your face as she runs a damp hand over your hair.

“Forty is not that old, it's quite hot actually… Plus, I’ve always had a thing for cougars so-” You giggle quietly, your hands sliding down her hips and under the hem of the towel. You hear her suck in a breath above you as your fingertips trail over her thighs, she’s always been sensitive there.

“You are something else…” she scoffs, cupping your jaw and bending down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. You pull her towel open gently as she does so, not letting it fall to the ground just yet— but enough for you to take in her most unadulterated form.

She hums into the kiss when she feels the cool air rush around her torso, smirking as she feels your warm hands on her hip bones, thumbs drawing absentminded circles.

You nip at her bottom lip and she shoves you away. You gaze up at her playfully as you land on your elbows, quickly pushing yourself back up and reaching out for her again— grabbing her wrist and tugging her against your chest.

She falls against you with a hmph, her knees bumping into the edge of the mattress in front of your crotch. Your arms wrap around her behind, one hand on her lower back and the other cupping her ass.

“Baby…” she whines, nails raking over the back of your neck as you press a trail of wet kisses over her belly. “I just showered.”

You just make a muffled noise against her skin in response. Her skin is so unbelievably soft, and she smells so clean. The scent of the semi-sterile smelling antibacterial soap mixed with her sweet-florally lotion fills your senses—the thought of licking it all off of her like a dog crosses your mind.

Instead, you crane your neck up and press a few kisses to the underside of her breast before sucking her nipple into your mouth. The towel falls to the floor with a plop as she shivers, clutching at your nape like she’s going to fall, but you’d never let that happen.

Emily’s lips part, letting a few shaky breaths fan across your forehead. You gaze up at her through your eyelashes, her cheeks are flushed just like that day in the office day after you first hooked up, except this time, you can watch as it travels down her neck and chest.

Her belly quivers against your chest as you scrape your teeth over her sensitive nipple, it makes you smile. You’ve always adored how well her body responds to you, and how easy it is for her to let go with you. Your heart does backflips in your chest just thinking about how much she trusts you, how much she loves you… how much you love her.

Emily shifts suddenly, and it pulls your attention away from her chest. She looks down at you with dark, drooping eyes, her bottom lips pulled between her teeth.

“You know I can’t resist when you touch me like that… it’s evil.” she purrs, her voice low— slightly raspy. You just smile up at her, leaning into her touch as she cups your cheek. She leans down to kiss you again, her lips cold and wet— you suck in a sharp breath against her nose.

You scoot further back on the mattress, making room for her to straddle your lap comfortably. The kiss is slow and heart-wrenchingly passionate, her hands roaming across your neck and shoulders while yours spread across her lower back and thigh— holding her close as she settles against you.

She’s probably leaving a wet patch that embarrassingly resembles that of a child who just peed their pants over your sweats, but you couldn’t care less. Emily Prentiss, your girlfriend, is utterly naked and needy in your lap— nothing could ever get in the way of that.

She deepens the kiss first, her thumb brushing over the joint of your jaw as a silent request for you to open, you do— and she licks inside your mouth, meeting your tongue in a duel of affection, one in which she’ll inevitably let you win.

Emily grinds into your lap, growing more desperate for your hands on her body by the second. You let your hands wander, always wanting to appease the older woman as usual. One hand slides to her front, cupping a heavy breast, thumb brushing over a pert nipple— the other grips at the meat of her hip, kneading it as she grinds against you harder.

You can feel the heat growing between her legs as she presses into you, seeking out any kind of stimulation.

You slide the hand on her hip down her thigh, nails scratching faintly over the skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Emily whimpers into the kiss as they brush a little too close to her center.

“Touch me, baby… please.” she pants against your mouth, pressing chaste pecks over your cheekbones. God, how am I supposed to resist that? You think to yourself.

You don’t.

Your nose brushes against the curve of Emily’s jaw, inhaling her dewy skin, before nipping at it. She lets her head fall back with a quiet moan, giving you full access to her jugular. You can feel her pulse thrumming beneath your lips as you kiss along the length of her neck.

The hand on her leg slides up further, fingertips brushing against the crevice of her thigh. You can feel her prickly, trimmed pubic hairs as your thumb drags over her pelvis. You think it’s cute that she still grooms for you regularly, even though you insist she doesn’t have to after being together for so long.

‘The jungle must be explored!’ you’d joke, usually earning a swat to the back of your head. She likes to keep it neat, and you certainly do not mind.

Her arousal is already spreading down her inner thighs when you decide to finally touch her. The pads of your middle and index finger brushing lightly over her slit, so warm and ready.

“So wet for me already?” you murmur, spreading the wetness over her swollen clit. Emily squeaks as you do so, her hips jumping at the sensitivity.

“Always… you know that.” She whimpers, knotting her fingers in your hair as you kiss down her neck and chest— leaving little red hickeys over the thin skin every once in a while. “God, that feels so good, honey.” Her chin comes to rest atop your head as you dip lower, kissing the tops of her breasts.

You smirk against her skin as she speaks, listening to the way her voice quivers ever-so-slightly.

You press harder against her sex, relinquishing your teasing for something that’ll actually get her going. Her hips roll with the movement of your fingers, you can hear the sounds of her slick coating your fingers as they slide through her folds.

Emily clutches at your shoulders when you slip your middle finger inside, curling it against her pubic bone. Your thumb works her clit as you slide another finger in, pumping slowly as she adjusts.

Emily nibbles at your shoulder to quiet her moans, she’s always been shy when it comes to being vocal during sex, but over time you’ve noticed it just takes a minute for her to gain the confidence. Because in the right moments when you’re really going at it, she can be quite loud.

Those are some of your favorite moments… when she’s completely uninhibited without a single care in the world besides the feeling of whatever you’re doing to her.

“Good, baby? I wanna hear that pretty voice.” You whisper against the cartilage of her ear, nipping at it.

“Yeah-hm…” she’s cut off by a sharp breath, the pads of your fingers rubbing perfectly at the spongy spot inside her. “Shit- m’ sensitive… you feel so good.” she pants, needily grinding into your palm as your motions grow more intention.

“My pretty girl…” you purr, running your hand up her spine, holding her close, feeling the way it curls as she arches into you. “So pretty in my lap, riding my fingers.”

“Fuck… can’t talk to me like that.” Emily groans, leaning back in your grasp and putting more force behind her hips as she rides you.

Her wet bangs frame her face in clumps as she gazes at you, her skin now dampened with perspiration instead of water from the shower. You catch a falling droplet from her hair as it lands on her chest, beading down the valley of her breasts. You lurch forward and drag your tongue over the flesh, lapping up any droplets you can find.

Emily hums at the warmth of your tongue on her skin, her nails scratching at your scalp as she holds your mouth against her. One of her hands braces itself on your knee as she leans back further, dangerously close to falling off your lap as your mouth attacks her breasts again.

Her hips stutter as you suck her nipple into your mouth, tongue swirling languidly over the bud before releasing it with a pop and doing the same to the other side.

Her thighs squeeze around your hips and her walls flutter around your fingers as they keep up their consistent pace— you can tell she’s getting close.

“Getting close, baby?” you murmur against her chest, chin pressing against her clavicle as you gaze up at Emily’s face.

Her eyes are screwed shut, brows knitted together in pure focus as she tries her hardest to chase the orgasm she knows you’re gonna give her, you never leave her hanging—ever. Not unless you mean to, of course… but that’s not on the table right now.

Right now, you want to make your beautiful girlfriend cum. You want to hear those precious whimpers fall from her lips as she shakes in your grasp, and then you want to do it all over again.

You can feel your own center burn with anticipation at the thought of it, making her cum over and over again. You’re already planning what you’re gonna do to give her the next one before she’s even had her first.

“Yes… so close. Kiss me.” Emily moans, her hand leaving your knee and cupping your jaw to bring your mouth to her forcefully. She moans into the kiss as you pump into her a bit harder, her thighs clenching together once again.

It hits her fairly quickly after that, the warmth of your lips sliding against her own seemingly adding the finishing touches.

She inhales sharply as her body jerks with the oncoming orgasm. You pull back slightly, letting your forehead rest against hers as you watch it overtake her. The ragged breaths that fall through parted—swollen lips, the way the muscles in her abdomen visibly clench, the way her walls clamp down on your fingers as they work her through it.

“There you go, pretty girl… so good.” You whisper, drawing soothing circles over her upper back as you guide her down. She shivers, goosebumps pebbling over her skin as the final waves wash over her.

Slipping your fingers out, you wrap both arms around her torso tightly— she practically melts into the hug, body falling limp as her hands clutch at your neck.

Her breathing begins to even out as you rock her gently, brushing the soggy locks of hair away from her face as she curls into you. She presses a kiss to your collarbone when she finally comes to, then another at your pulse point.

“Hi…” she mumbles, inhaling the scent of your skin.

You chuckle softly at the adorable gesture, cupping the back of her head as she grasps tighter around your shoulders.

“Hi, sweet girl. You alright?” You feel her nod quickly, you smile again— pressing a kiss to her temple. “Too tired to give me another one or can you do that for me?”

She perks up at that offer, righting herself in your lap with a bright smile, her dimples on full display.

“Wide awake.” She wiggles her brows before leaning in to kiss you again.

“Yeah?” You smirk against her lips.

“Yeah…” Emily tsks. “I think you are a bit too clothed, my love.” Her hands snake beneath the hem of your shirt, nails scratching at your hips and she suckles on your bottom lip.

You pull your shirt over your head immediately at her request, tossing it across the room blindly. Emily chuckles at your eagerness before swooping in to kiss you ravenously. Her hands roam your naked torso, soaking up the warmth of your skin against her own.

“You’re so warm…” she murmurs against your lips, wrapping her arms around you and pulling your chests flush to each other. She shivers against you faintly, and it’s hard to tell whether it’s from the arousal or because she’s truly cold.

Even though the room is at least seventy degrees with the summer-evening breeze floating in through the window, Emily always runs a bit cold, and the fact that her hair is still wet probably doesn’t help.

With a swift peck, you stand— wrapping your arms around her bottom as you move to your side of the bed and place her down on your pillows. Emily falls into a fit of giggles as you kneel over her on the mattress, she stares up at you with glittering eyes.

“So strong…” she teases, pouting as her hands slide over your arms and down to your stomach. “Come here.” Her fingers curl into the waistband of your sweats, tugging you on top of her.

You meet her in a slow kiss as your bodies press against each other. Emily’s legs wrap around your hips, pulling your pelvis into hers— she lets out a muffled moan at the friction, her back arching into you as your arms cage around her head.

Her hands splay over your shoulder blades as she lets you deepen the kiss, your tongue dragging over her bottom lip before curling against the roof of her mouth.

“Mm, you should do that somewhere else…” Emily breathes out, smirking, her eyes dancing over your face.

“Oh, should I now?” You raise your brow curiously, sitting up a bit as you wait for her answer.

“Yes…” She hums, chewing on her bottom lip in that especially seductive way that has you bending to her every will. “I think you should.”

You grin cheesily as you lean back in, using your thumb to pull her lip from her teeth before pressing a kiss to it. She wraps her arms around your shoulders as the kiss deepens again, swollen red lips sliding together in a mess of saliva and want.

You trail the kiss across her cheek and down her neck, sucking a tiny spot just below her ear. She whimpers as you trail lower, teeth scraping over bulging tendons and down to her collarbones. Her hands fist at your hair as you drag your lips over her chest, pressing featherlight kisses to the flushed skin.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly as you trail even lower, lapping at the underside of her breasts, sinking your teeth into the protruding edge of her ribcage. You’re just about to kiss down her belly when you suddenly stop in your tracks— looking up at her with a skeptical expression.

“Are you suuure?” you tease, running a finger between down the valley of her breasts.

“I love you so much, honey...” She whispers against your lips. “But, my god, are you pissing me off right now… please just eat me out.” She cups your face in her palms, shooting you a sarcastic smile before patting your cheek— urging you to get a move on.

“Alright, no more teasing. Noted…” You nod at her with a tight-lipped smile, quickly getting back to kissing your way down her body. “I love you, too.”

“Yes, thank you.” Emily grins as she watches you go down, your lips pressing wet kisses across her hips and down to her thighs.

The smell of her arousal clouds your brain as you get closer to the source, your mouth waters.

You meet her eyes as you drag your tongue along her inner thigh, tasting the salty mixture of her skin and leftover arousal from earlier. Emily’s legs spread further apart as you reach the apex, your nose running over the hot flesh.

“Please…” She whines, pushing her hips towards you.

You study her face as you part her labia with your middle and index fingers, strings of thick arousal clinging to the digits as you bring them to your mouth. Emily’s taste is something you don’t think you’ll ever get over. It’s so precisely her, so divine, so sweet and heady— you could drink her for the rest of your life and you undoubtedly plan to.

Her lips part as she pants out shaky breaths, she rolls her hips at the faintest touch from you, desperately seeking more.

Leaning forward, you swipe your tongue over the entire length of her sex, your arms wrapping tightly around her thighs to keep her in place.

Emily falls back against the pillow with a guttural moan when you suck at her clit, her hips immediately springing into action— jumping against your mouth. The hand in your hair flexes as you circle the sensitive bud with a pointed tongue before dipping down and curling it into her slit, the same way you did to her mouth just minutes before.

“Fuck, love…” She gasps, lurching forward to watch once again.

You smile against her pussy as you meet her eyes, making a point to flick your tongue over the hypersensitive spot just below her clit. Her body twitches, the muscles in her legs quivering as she tries to hold back the rapidly building orgasm.

You’re practically just making out with her pussy at this point, tongue lapping at her before closing your lips around her clit and sucking gently.

After doing this so many times, you know exactly what makes her tick—what gets her there with the best feeling result. You’ve also found that oral often makes Emily cum rather quickly, which is why you typically only start or end a night with it.

Emily’s thighs start to close around your head as she reaches the climax of her orgasm, trapping you in place as you continue your ministrations. Quiet whimpers crackle from her throat as the wave overtakes her again, her body seizing up and trembling as it rolls her in its current.

“Fuckfuckfuck-” she squeaks out before her body finally releases— her hips, grinding against your mouth as she rides it out.

You groan against her, the vibrations sending a jolt to her overstimulated clit. You chuckle and press a final kiss over her folds before resting your cheek on her inner thigh, watching adoringly as the aftershocks make their way through her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that. God, you’re like the prodigy of giving head.” Emily manages between panting breaths, reaching down to brush a few sweaty hairs from your brow.

“Oh, why thank you.” you beam as you crawl up her torso. “You’re the prodigy of like… wielding highly addictive pussy.” your face scrunches up at your own overtly cringy statement. Emily just laughs.

“You, my love, are such a fucking corndog.” she shakes her head, adjusting her body to fit comfortably against yours as you cuddle into her side. “But somehow, I’ve fallen madly in love with you…” You smile against her shoulder at the comment, nuzzling into her.

That’s another thing you don’t think you’ll ever grow tired of— hearing Emily say she loves you. It’s hard to believe sometimes, but the look in her eyes when she says those words is just so telling. Those precious, nearly black irises, sparkling… her pupils dilating subtly as she gazes at you… it washes all your worries away faster than they ever arose.

The way she looks at you reminds you of a home you never had, a place that you will always belong.

“And I, you… unconditionally and irrevocably in love.”

…

a/n: heyyyy, feel free to leave a comment on what you think, theyre always appreciated!

happy masturbation.

Taglist: @prentisslvrsworld @piiinco @xoxo-maryssa @prentissmultiverse @blackcatlesbo @teeshatequila

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #reader insert #criminal minds #wlw smut #wlw #ao3 #lesbian #soft emily prentiss #dykeforhire fic stuffs

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phossiii · 4 months ago

Text

｡𖦹°‧⭑ monsters: chapter seven

synopsis: you get into some shenanigans while on the run, reminders of your past coming back to haunt you in the process. and phosphorus comes to a life changing conclusion about you.

cw: reader is a monster, mature themes, violence, profanity, innuendos, phosphorus is phosphorus, this one's a doozy, reader deserves the world, mahalat is just... mahalat.

The sound of soft panting forced you to slowly come to, a faint groan leaving your lips as your eyes fluttered open, greeted by the sight of an irradiated back and the visible spine underneath.

'Phos...'

You attempted to move, but winced, your entire body aching from head to toe, and your strength not yet returned to break free from his hold.

Not to mention your mind was exhausted from the mental battle you fought to regain control over your body.

Healing be damned, you felt like you'd been hit by an eighteen-wheeler...

"Morning, sleepyhead," Phosphorus sang, looking both ways before quickly running across a back-alley street, just barely avoiding a Pokolistani jeep. "Sweet dreams?"

"Where the hell are we?" you grumbled, weakly lifting your head and turning to face him.

"A town, I think," he answered, making a sharp right turn. "If I had to guess, I'd say it's the last one before we reach the castle."

"Where are the others?"

"Couldn't tell ya. After we got split up, and you decided to drop by, I high-tailed it. The police were on my ass."

"Still are," you scoffed with a chuckle, nodding to the faint sirens in the background. "This your first time dodging the cops, princess?"

"I wouldn't be so quick to complain, snoozy. I'm still waiting for when it's time for us to switch."

"Like hell I'm carrying you. By the time I get back to prison, I'll be on chemo for the rest of my life."

"Demons don't get cancer."

"Skeletons don't have dicks."

"You gonna keep bringing that up?"

"I—" "Shush."

Sliding between two houses, he effortlessly hopped a brick wall, dropping the both of you into a bush just as two more jeeps drove past.

Using his hands, he put you down and pulled apart a few branches, peeking to see if the coast was clear.

You, on the other hand, were starting to really wake up, realizing that you seemed to have a fresher injury on your backside.

"Fuck, why does my ass hurt, too?" you groaned, rubbing it in an attempt to soothe the pain.

"Well... I may have smacked it once," Phosphorus admitted, suspiciously. "Or twice... possibly three times... a little over four? Honestly, I lost count after tenth or twelfth time."

SMACK!

"You keep doing that. It turns me on more than you think," he chuckled, adjusting his jaw.

"Pervert!" you whisper-yelled, pissed. "We talked about this! Hooker rules!"

"No kissing on the mouth?"

"Stripper rules."

"What was I supposed to do? You've seen your ass, you should be proud I held out as long as I did," he defended, the two of you standing up and pressing against the side of the house, using the roof as cover from the helicopters.

"Oh, yeah? And how long was that?"

"Five minutes."

"You're impossible."

Managing to reach the front door, Phosphorus melted the handle, unlocking it and allowing you both to slip inside before the search-light could catch you.

Panting, the two of you finally took a moment to breathe, looking around to familiarize yourselves with your surroundings.

"Here," you sighed, pulling off his lab coat and tossing it to him as you headed toward the living room. "I'm changing."

'Fuckin' Christ...'

He could practically feel his pants tightening at the sight of you, naked as the day you were born—save for your boots.

You looked so sexy in the moonlight, and your unabashed confidence only added to the appeal.

"Y'know..." he cleared his throat, shoving his arms through the sleeves before rolling them up. "I think now's a good a time as any to take a nice break. Relax... kick up your feet... let off a little steam..."

"Save it," you scoffed, opening the hallway closet and rummaging around until you found a black trash bag. "We've got enough to worry about."

In the bag was a secret stash of clothes, ranging on a scale of scandalous to downright slutty.

'Perfect.'

Fishing around, you managed to pull out a pair of black, open-stitch, boot-cut jeans, a matching jean jacket, and a black, leather bikini top.

"And just my size," you grinned, quickly tugging them on.

"How'd you know that stuff was there?" Phosphorus asked, confused.

"She's a pretty woman in a European country. Nine times out of ten, she was a party girl at some point," you explained, nodding to the photos on the wall as you tied up the pants. "But she grew up. Got a husband... bought a house... had a kid. They can't see this filth, but she doesn't have the heart to throw away the memories along with it. So she shoves it in a garbage bag and stuffs it in the back of the closet."

The man turned, examining the pictures, quite surprised to see that your educated guess was correct.

She was pretty, and she had a husband and daughter.

A daughter... whose face reminded him so much of his son.

"M'catchin a few more Zs before we move on," you announced, adjusting the jacket as you plopped yourself down on the couch, closing your eyes.

"Uh huh," he answered, mindlessly, as he continued to stare at the photo.

A daughter... whose face reminded him so much of his son.

"Sunuk zetam ma'ak kula baa nat su da Mahalat! Sunuk zetam ma'ak kula baa nat su da Mahalat! Sunuk zetam ma'ak kula baa nat su da Mahalat!"

"Please! Have mercy!" your mother wailed, frantically struggling against her binds as she looked around the room, searching for a kindred face past the velvet hoods. "I'll do anything!... Oh, God! I'll give you anything you want!"

But not a single one of them stopped, the entire room of cultists pressing on like she wasn't even there, continuing to bow in sync around the altar she rested upon.

"Sunuk zetam ma'ak kula baa nat su da Mahalat! Sunuk zetam ma'ak kula baa nat su da Mahalat! Sunuk zetam ma'ak kula baa nat su da Mahalat!"

"M-Money! I have money! Say whatever number, I'll give it to you!" she begged, gasping and choking for air as she attempted to get her words out, tears rolling down her cheeks in rivulets. "My house! Take my house! It's all yours! Please!"

Out from the darkness, the Grand Master emerged—along with his two attendants—a silver tray in hand.

On it were only two things:

A wooden bowl... and a ceremonial dagger.

"Oh, God!" your mother sobbed, pulling violently against the ropes that strapped her pregnant self to the table. "Please! Have mercy!... I haven't done anything wrong!"

But he drew nearer still, one of the attendants taking the tray as they reached the table, the Grand Master taking the dagger.

The handle was made entirely out of human bone, its carvings depicting the souls of the damned and their infinite torture in Hell.

Reverently, he grasped it with both hands, carrying it over until the dagger's pointed tip was aimed directly for your mother's heart.

"Please..." she pleaded for the final time, unable to stop the second wave of tears from flowing down her cheeks. "Not my baby."

But her pleas fell on deaf ears, the Master's face stone cold as he plunged the knife into her heart, her screams of pain muffled by the raging thunder and lightning outside.

Quickly taking the bowl, the Master used it to catch her blood as it spilled from her chest, waiting until the woman lost consciousness before pulling away.

"Tekchau ma'at tu na ekk bay pavak!" he bellowed, dipping his two fingers in the blood before drawing an intricate symbol over your mother's pregnant belly.

"Sunuk zetam ma'ak kula baa nat su da Mahalat!"

Suddenly, the satanic markings on the wall began to glow dark red, illuminating the room with a presence that would make any sane person turn tail and run.

"Sunuk zetam ma'ak kula baa nat su da Mahalat!"

"TEKCHAU MA'AT TU NA EKK BAY PAVAK!"

"SUNUK ZETAM MA'AK KULA BAA NAT SU DA MAHALAT!"

Roaring with passion, the Master stabbed your mother in the stomach, violently tearing it open as the followers mimicked the sound.

And with a deafening, other-worldly shriek, a malevolent shadow burst from the wound, instantly slashing the Master's throat before moving on to the others.

Blood-curdling creams of panic and terror echoed throughout the room as the followers were murdered left and right, unable to escape as the being had locked all the doors and windows.

Amidst the chaos, one of the attendants rushed to your mother's side, dodging flying limbs and splattering blood.

Sadly, your mother was long dead, but the attendant was quick to reach her hands inside her stomach, quickly fishing around before grasping onto the reason for this whole ritual.

You.

Carefully, she pulled your tiny body out, a smile breaking out onto her face at the sight of your reddened skin, pointed ears, and tail.

You were beautiful...

But her happiness was short lived, the shadow-being finishing off the last follower before zooming over to you, entering your body through your nostrils and successfully possessing your infant self.

Instantly, your tail whipped up and stabbed the attendant in the neck, forcing her eyes wide.

With a sickening slice, you slashed her throat, dropping her to the ground.

She died almost immediately... but not without uttering two final words.

"Praise Mahalat."

"Ladies and Gentlemen! It is my pleasure tonight to show you an act that had never been performed in the history of the world!" the ringmaster announced, his proud statement met with the starry eyes of hundreds of children and parents.

"Tonight... I debut the newest headliner of my show! A marvel by which the likes of you have never seen!"

Nervously, a six year-old you shifted on your feet, waiting patiently on the riser for your cue.

This was going to be your first time performing in front of an audience...

"We've pulled out all the stops tonight! Of course, for the audience, but also for a very special guest we have this evening! Everyone! Please give a big, warm welcome to Mr. Vice President [REDACTED]! And his lovely wife!"

The crowd roared with applause as the spotlight moved to him, the Vice President giving a proud smile and a strong wave before the ringmaster returned to his introduction.

"Now without further ado, I present to you the Hellish Wonder! The Monstrous Spectacle! The Flying Demon of Gotham! (y/n)!"

Quickly, you grabbed your bar, pushing off and swinging directly into the spotlight, earning loud gasps of surprise and wild roars of applause.

Using your momentum, you dismounted, performing three forward flips before Greta—a fellow trapeze artist—caught you by your ankles, swinging in the other direction.

The crowd ooed and ahhed at your display, watching intently as you performed moves that had never been done before—with about as much effort as wiggling your pinky toe.

"You are doing wonderful, (y/n)!" Greta encouraged as she swung over, catching you by your ankles before gravity took her back the way she came.

"Really?!" you asked, eagerly, relieved to hear that you were doing well, and that the crowd was loving the show.

"Ja!" she laughed, warmed by your excitement. "A few more moves and you'll be done! Make me proud!"

As she swung forward again, you let go, doing five backflips in a row before grabbing onto a rope, using it to swing yourself around to the audience.

There, you leaned over, giving high-fives to all the kids as you flew past.

"Cool!"

"Awesome tail!"

"Look at her horns!"

You were over the moon, baffled by all the overwhelming positivity you were greeted with.

In fact, you were so over the moon that you'd failed to pay attention to the last kid, your nail grazing his palm a little too harshly and drawing blood.

"Ouchie!"

The instant you got a whiff... it was all over.

"Time to feed!" Mahalat's voice cackled in your mind, forcing you to gasp and lose focus.

She took over in an instant, launching you at the boy and clamping your fangs down on his arm, tearing it from his socket.

The surrounding crowd let out screams of horror as you began to feast right then and there, tearing into the limb like a feral animal.

But the demon wasn't one to let food go to waste.

Opening your mouth, she flew into the air, spinning around as she blew blazing hellfire in all directions.

The crowds of hundreds trying to escape the big top were immediately set aflame, shrieks of agony and torture bounding through the air.

"(y/n)!" Greta shouted, swinging over and landing on your back, throwing an arm around your neck. "Stop this! You are hurting them!"

But it all went in one ear and out the other, Mahalat grabbing her by her face before effortlessly tearing her head off her shoulders, preventing her from saying anything else.

In a bout of irony, the demon bit her lips off, taking the head as she flew through the roof of the tent, leaving the countless families to burn to death as she soared through the night sky.

Enjoying her midnight snack.

"What the—? Where am—AAAAAAAAAH!" you shrieked, eyes shooting wide as they landed on the sight before you.

An absolute massacre...

Viscera flooded the closed off street, slowly sinking into the city sewers as the rain attempted to wash it away.

Half-eaten, dismembered limbs were strewn everywhere—in the punch bowl, on the buffet table, hell, you had someone's leg in your arms.

Your mouth and hands were covered with blood, the taste of human meat fresh on your tongue.

And all you had done was leave to go to the store...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" you frantically threw away the leg, trembling violently as your hands moved to tightly grasp your hair.

Even the children weren't safe, a tiny hand with a Dora the Explorer watch sitting not too far away.

"These are the consequences of your rebellion, (y/n)..." Mahalat stated, coldly. "You forget your place."

Horrified, you turned around, utterly hysterical as you barfed up a bloody mess.

Eventually, though, you caved, racked with sobs as you crumpled into yourself, wanting nothing more than to be arrested and put to death.

But fate had other plans, the Dark Knight himself swooping in as your angel of mercy.

As he stood over you, surveying the scene, his expression dropped slightly in an uncharacteristic bout of pity.

Especially when you weakly grabbed onto his cape.

"Please..." you begged, voice barely above a whisper. "Kill me."

"Yana!" a voice shouted, snapping you out of your sleep.

Abruptly, you sat up, eyes frantically scanning over the room in search of Phosphorus.

But he was nowhere to be found.

'Shit.'

Jumping off the couch, you used your sense of smell, following his scent all the way to backyard.

The backyard... where he was playing with a little girl.

And the backyard... where her mother and father were less than pleased.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, carefully putting the girl down and letting her run back to her parents. "We were just... pretending to fly."

Sensing the sincerity in his voice, you saved the scolding, deciding not to ask questions.

'We gotta get moving.'

"C'mon," you sighed, grabbing his arm and dragging him toward the fence as you turned to the parents. "Thank you for the clothes!"

You let him hop over first before following, waiting until you both got a good distance away from the house before you spoke up.

For the very first time since you'd known him, he was completely silent, not saying a word as you trudged over a grassy hill.

Not one pun.

Not one sex joke.

Not even a single pass at you.

Just... nothing.

It worried you, making an odd string to tug at your heart and force you to get to the bottom of it.

"Phos?" you started, softly, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

Lifting his head, he turned to you, eyes widening as—for a split second—your expression morphed into that of his late wife.

Right then and there, it felt as if his whole paradigm shifted, the jigsaw pieces of his life seeming to fall into place right before him.

Taking the shape of you.

Your laugh... your smile... your warmth—they were things he wanted to be in the presence of well-past the end of the mission.

He wanted you, past a friend or a fuck, but as someone to stay by his side, someone to hold.

Someone to care about again...

"Alex..." he blurted, unable to take his eyes away from your face. "Call me Alex."

Surprised, your eyes widened slightly, a familiar burn rising to your cheeks at his intense stare.

But the shock was quick to subside, replaced with understanding as you stopped in your tracks, smoothly taking his hand in yours.

Intently, he watched, your touch singeing his skin as you held his hand, flashing him a coy smile.

"Alright, Alex... let's go kill a princess.

#creature commandos #creature commandos x reader #dc #dc x reader #dcu x reader #doctor phosphorus #dcu #doctor phosphorus x reader #dr phosphorus #dr phosphorus x reader

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areyouwell · 9 months ago

Text

Nyctophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of the dark. Children or adults may have Nyctophobia if they are afraid to be left alone in darkness

Ch.1

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: None as of yet, but we'll get there ;)

Word count: 9.2k

A/N: RIGHT FUCKERS ITS TIME. i don't think i've written a fic this long in goddamn years but here we are. DEFO ooc Logan and also timeline what timeline? Kitty is older than the rest of the students cuz i love her and i said so. reader's mutation is currently shadow-walking but that'll develop as we go on so slay boots. also I have no concept of word limits sooooo 9k chapter let's fucking go

How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years? Honestly, you couldn’t recall. It felt like it had been forever since ol’ Charlie had sent you travelling the continent. Sure, it had been your idea to try and find mutants before they experience the most traumatic event of their lives, but you didn’t think he’d send you, and certainly not immediately. Though you were glad he did, you didn’t think Scott would make as good an impression as you could.

But, now you were back. Thank fuck. You could finally rest your weary legs and put down your heavy-as-shit bag. And at least now you could work on developing your mutation. Shadow walking. Or at least, it is now. You thought that was the extent of what you could do, just disappear and reappear whenever and wherever there happened to be a shadow cast on the ground. Or on a wall. Or anywhere really. But, Xavier had gently suggested that, perhaps, those shadows could be manipulated one way or another. You wished to fuck you knew how because your bag was all but cutting right through your shoulder.

Your boots crunched against the gravel as you took a deep breath, making your way inside. It was nice to notice nothing had changed. The lawn was still neatly mowed, brickwork hadn’t aged a day. It smelt like comfort. It smelt like home. But before you could even knock on the door, at least being courteous enough not to slip through the shadows, the oak burst open and two unidentified arms had wrapped themselves around your neck in one of the most warming hugs you’d ever received, accompanied by a high pitch squeal.

You knew instantly who that would be. Brown hair spilled across her shoulders, smelling faintly of lavender. “Hey Kitty,” you grinned, dropping your bag to return her tight embrace. It truly did feel like forever.

“I’m so happy to see you it’s been years! We thought you were never coming back! Scott thought you’d died and Charles wasn’t telling us, Logan didn’t think you even existed and that we were all lying, Jean thought you’d just got sick of this place and dipped, it was carnage!” She rambled, her deep brown eyes sparkling slightly. You had to take a minute to actually comprehend what the fuck she was saying before your lips split into a broad smile.

“Well, I can tell you that I’m not dead, at least not yet, and I do very much exist and I am not sick of this place despite what Jean may think. And– wait who’s Logan?” Your brain had only just caught up with the fact that Kit had mentioned a name completely unfamiliar to you. Just how long had you been gone?

“Oh, right yeah. A new teacher,” Kitty kept one arm around your shoulder as she guided you back inside, stopping only when you realised your bag was still left discarded by the front door. “He uh, sorta took your position as PE and combat professor… sorry.” She looked genuinely apologetic, whilst internally, you couldn’t be more grateful. You always thought you weren’t ever cut out to teach, and whilst you sometimes enjoyed it, you were always too worried about the kids being hurt.

“I’m hurt, a girl’s gone for a year or two and you replace her? What kind of school is this?” you cracked a smile, Kitty’s face morphing from remorse to relief. She really thought you’d be upset? You were touched. “Anyway, what time is it? Where is everyone? I thought classes stopped at–” You were cut off abruptly upon entering the lounge.

“Welcome back!” you covered your face at the chorus of voices, laughing behind your hands before clutching your heart dramatically.

“Christ! You’ve all just knocked five years off my life!” you grinned, faces both familiar and unfamiliar laughing and smiling just to see you.

“They’ve been looking forward to this for days. Ever since rumour of your return started circulating, they’ve been pestering us nonstop for a date. Eventually, someone caved,” You didn’t need to see Scott’s eyes in order to know he was giving Kitty a pointed look behind his glasses. You looked back to see her looking sheepish.

“Yeah well… they can be really persuasive.” She shrugged, taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it out of the way. You sighed at the loss of weight, rolling your joint slightly.

“It’s good to see you,” Scott pulled you in for a brief hug, clapping your back once before pulling back, letting the rest of your friends and pupils make their way over. You were consumed by various arms of embraces, questions about your travels, introductions to new students, reminiscing with old students. It was quite possibly the best moment you’d had since you left. But a face caught your eye at the back of the crowd. A young girl, with the same dark brown hair you remember, only now a streak of brilliant white framed her face.

You made your way over, shuffling through the crowd, clasping hands and shoulders with people you knew before finally getting to her.

“Hey you,” you smiled gently, remembering how timid and easy to scare she used to be. You were caught off guard completely by her sudden bright smile.

“Hey.”

“How long’ve you been here? I didn’t actually think you’d listen to me to be brutally honest with you, thought you’d just shrug it off and continue your own path,” you were relieved to see she had listened to what you’d said two years ago. You’d urged her down this path, to find the school. You’d already known Charles would take her, it was just a matter of her taking herself here.

“Uh… about that…” you’d only seen a smile that sheepish on Kitty. You cocked a brow, head tilting to the side slightly before a hand on your shoulder caused you to whirl. But it was just Ororo. Clearly, your travels had affected you more than you originally thought.

But Storm wasn’t looking at you, you could only see the back of her white hair as she frantically waved at someone through the crowd, beckoning them over.

“Logan!”

Ah, you guess that made sense now.

Whoever you’d expected to walk through the crowd, you threw that image out your mental window the moment you saw him.

Now you understood why he taught combat and PE… he was fucking ripped. White t-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. The facial hair was an interesting choice, but you couldn’t say it didn’t suit him. He was very… rugged lumberjack looking.

You placed a hand on your hip, brows raised in intrigue as he made his way over. You don’t think you’d ever seen a grumpier-looking man.

“Logan, this is Phantom,” your eyes slid to Ororo as she used your mutant name.

“Ah, so you do exist,” his voice seemed a perfect match for the rest of him, just as rough and rugged as the worn jeans he was wearing. You nodded, mouth quirking into a small smirk.

“Heard there was some debate over that, glad I could put it to rest,” you outstretched your hand for him to shake, something you were surprised he actually did, calloused palm encasing your own.

“Can ya blame me?” He asked with a raised brow, dropping your hand after a beat too long. Clearly unaccustomed to civility, judging from his appearance.

“Guess not. You’re also the son-of-a-bitch that stole my position, right?” You asked, wanting to be a lot more serious than you actually were being, but for some reason, you couldn’t help grinning slightly.

“Language!” Storm elbowed you slightly. Guess you’d forgotten how to behave around the kids too.

Logan held his hands up in surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t think you existed,” though he also seemed serious, you thought you could detect something that could be perceived as humour in his hazel eyes. You couldn’t keep up your poorly constructed façade anymore, waving your hand as if to physically clear the air between the two of you.

“I’m kidding, you can keep it. In all honesty, I was never really cut out for it.” You shrugged. “Besides, I’m–”

“She’s being super modest by the way, she rocked as that professor!” Kitty called from the other side of the room, somehow managing to listen to your conversation. You didn’t know how, since the entire welcome party was still chatting way, but you cast her a withering look nonetheless.

“So I’ve heard,” Logan’s eyes slid from Kitty back to you as you scoffed.

“Though, of course, it was purely hypothetical, since I didn’t exist and all.” You teased, gesturing to your very much existing self. You silently triumphed over the fact you managed to drag a small smile out of him, realising that making this man pull any other expression other than irritation was something to be proud of.

You hadn’t realised how completely caught up in the introduction you’d been before you noticed the girl still standing next to you, eyes flicking between you and Logan with a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Anyway,” you continued pointedly, “you were saying? So you didn’t come to find this place?” your head tilted again slightly in confusion. “How did you end up here?”

Rogue looked from you to Logan, who’s eyes were still trained on you. You looked between them. “Nope, still confused. How did…?”

“Well, after you found me, I did carry on my own path, which led me to some shady bar where Logan found me,” she explained quietly.

“More you found me but sure.” He shrugged. You could tell there was some kind of bond between them, one you could recognise was only built through trauma. You’d heard a little of what happened with Eric through Charles’ telepathic link, but he always reassured you to continue what you were doing. But you often wondered what could have happened if you’d returned.

“So, you brought her here?” You asked, trying to prompt the story forward. Honestly, you wanted to know how he’d succeeded where you’d failed. You could be incredibly persuasive when you wanted to be, but Rogue was stubborn on another level.

“Me? Nah, didn’t know this place existed at that point.”

“Seems to be a common theme with you,” you couldn’t help the subtle teasing grin spreading across your face, nor your laugh as he rolled his eyes skyward.

“Never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Not whilst I’m still breathing,” you winked, before turning your attention back to Rogue and completely missing the way his features shuddered slightly. “So how’d you get here if tall, dark, and broody over here didn’t know about this?”

“Tall, dark, and– what?” He asked, bewildered.

Ororo snorted in amusement, before stepping in. “That would be us. We’d been tracking another mutant, Sabretooth, and he just so happened to be tracking Logan, or so we thought at the time. We found Sabretooth, and these two at the same time. Brought them both back.”

You nodded in understanding, now finally having got through the whole story. Well, maybe not the whole story, you knew there were details you definitely were missing, but at least you got the jist.

“I see. Glad it wasn’t my lack of persuasive skills then. Though I guess a life or death situation isn’t much better. How’s your mutation coming along?” you asked, only now noticing the black, elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Ah.

“Still hard to control, but I’m getting better at it!” She looked genuinely enthusiastic about her mutation, so much so that it almost brought a tear to your eye. When you’d met her two years ago, you didn’t know if she even wanted help. She’d been so lost in her despair and self-loathing that you didn’t think she had long left with the way her mental health was going. So to see her so happy, your throat closed up slightly.

“I’m glad, I really am. You deserve this, Rogue. All of this,” you gestured to the room around, to the friends she’d made, to the haven she’d found.

“Oh, my name’s Marie. Guess I didn’t tell you before.” She shrugged, and you had to laugh to stop yourself from crying.

“Marie it is.” Her story touched your heart, and to see she managed to get her happy ending… fuck you were so close to crying. You had to change the subject before you broke down in front of these people. “Oh hey, is my room still the same? Wouldn’t mind freshening up a little, been a long journey.” Two birds with one stone. You could leave the situation and cry in your bathroom whilst taking a shower so you didn’t smell like the wrong end of a skunk. Perfect!

“Uh…” Storm started.

“About that…” Kitty continued, coming over to stand alongside Storm. You looked between them, before shooting a glance to Logan who seemed to be showing absolutely no remorse.

“Your bed’s real comfy, bub” he smirked, and you gaped.

“You’re fucking kidding me?”

“Language!” both Ororo and Kitty said at the same time, and you winced.

“Fuck, sorry. Shit! Argh!” you gave up, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m not letting any of you off the hook. This is betrayal at its finest! Giving him my position I can handle, but my damn room? That’s shocking behaviour from the both of you!” You pointed at them accusingly, shooting a glare to the man next to you who was doing nothing but lowly chuckling. You breathe out a sigh. You had the best room in the whole mansion. Or at least you did, before Muscles McGee stole it from you.

“Don’t blame those two” Jean placed a calming hand on your shoulder. “we didn’t have another room made up when these two arrived. It was supposed to be temporary, but–”

“The view was too nice to pass up on,” Logan interjected. You realised he probably thought it was his turn to tease you. You knew that view was nice, it was overlooking the entire grounds behind the school. And whilst you were going to sorely miss it, you weren’t so heartless that you’d take it back from him. Besides, in a weird way, you felt like you owed him. He found Marie, and whatever transpired between them, she seemed happier now. You guessed you maybe had him to thank for that.

“Yeah yeah, alright fine. I concede. Where am I then?” you asked Jean, who broke into a broad smile.

“You’re in the one above, still got the same view, don’t worry,” she elbowed you slightly. That wasn’t so bad actually. Same view, same side of the mansion, just one story up? You breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, you could do that.

“Good enough, I’m still mad about it though.” Your eyes narrowed at four of them, Logan included, before cracking your neck in preparation to take your bag all the way up the stairs.

Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you raised a brow in suspicion. “What’s got you so giddy?” you asked as she once again slid her arm across your shoulders, guiding you back towards the door.

“Oh nothing, just glad you're home. It’s been kinda boring without you.” You laughed at that. With everything that’s been going on, you didn’t think any of them had time to be bored. But you appreciated the thought nonetheless.

Eyeing your bag on the ground, there were times when you really wished your mutation involved some kind of super strength, because as happy as you were to be home and have a room just above your old one, you really didn’t want to lug that thing all the way up. And all the damn lights were on, so slipping up through the shadows was a no-go. You blew out a breath in preparation, rolling your shoulder once again, before you were stopped by a broad hand landing on your arm.

“I got it,” Logan’s voice weaved butterflies through your stomach. You hadn’t realised he was behind you before he was leaning down next to you and effortlessly slinging the bag over his own shoulder.

For the second time that afternoon, you gaped up at him, left almost speechless.

“Super strength?” Was all you could say, hoping to Jesus he knew what you were asking. You watched his features morph from confusion to amusement as he shook his head slightly.

“Nah, not quite.”

“Then how the fu–” you were reminded of the children present by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Kitty. “–uuun. How fun.” you gave up on your question, much to his mirth. The sight had your brain short-circuiting. You wouldn’t deny he was good-looking. You’d be fucking crazy to deny that. But there was something else hidden under all those knowing smirks and sharp glances. Something that you wouldn’t mind uncovering.

Deciding that was a quest for another day, you turned abruptly on your heel, making your way to the staircase before once again stopping in your tracks. This was starting to get on your nerves a little. However, any irritation soon died as you finally saw Professor Xavier.

“Ah, I wondered whether the commotion was your return.”

You snorted a laugh. “No, you didn’t. You absolutely knew it was my return.” You quipped back, earning yourself a laugh from the man.

“As quick as ever. And I see you’ve met our Wolverine.” Charles nodded to Logan next to you, and you turned to him in bemusement.

“Wolverine? Seriously?” you asked, laughing at his shrug. “Can’t think why…” your sarcastic jab paired with your pointed looks from his hair to his body brought another amused smirk from the man.

“I thought you two would get along. Get yourself settled back in and meet me in my office and your earliest convenience.” You nodded back to Xavier, unable to take a moment to process what he meant when he said he thought you and Logan would get along before Kitty began dragging you towards the stairs.

“C’mon! You’re gonna love it!”You were slightly worried about what it was but followed her nonetheless.

Logan had to admit, he didn’t mind carrying your bag up four flights of stairs. It wasn’t the worst way to spend his afternoon. And as much as he wasn’t the kind of guy to stare at a woman’s ass, he wasn’t mad that he was behind you.

Everything he’d been told about you had been proven correct. At least, everything he’d seen so far. Whether or not you could hold yourself in a fight was up for debate, but everything else, your wit, your charm, heartbreaking kindness, humour… it was all right there in front of him.

Literally.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to bite back a smile or a laugh, stunned by the fact that you actually managed to break through and pull both from him. Even now, as you paused before the landing that lead to your old room and sighed wistfully, had had to stop himself grinning. And he was glad you turned back around quickly after throwing him a pointed glare over your shoulder because that was another smile he was struggling to rein in. Fuck, how did you do it? He’d only known you for half an hour and he’d displayed more expression than he had in his whole two years of being here.

He was in huge trouble.

The stairs finally flattened out to the top floor landing, Kitty still leading the way down the corridor until the final room. It was isolated, like his one floor below, and he guessed you must like it that way. Which he thought strange. The way you were with others, he hadn’t exactly pegged you for being someone who liked her space. But then again, he’d only known you for thirty minutes.

He had to remind himself of that.

“Here we are!” Kitty grinned excitedly, stepping to the side to let you open the door yourself. Logan knew what you’d find behind the wood. He’d helped set it up after all. Some twisted guilt forced him into helping. At least, that’s what he told himself.

You eyed Kitty suspiciously, before twisting the handle on the door, pushing slightly to reveal what she was so excited about.

If Logan was being honest, your expression was worth all the consuming guilt he’d felt by taking your room. A smile of pure, unadulterated awe wiped all thought from his mind, your eyes were practically glowing.

“You… Kitty, you didn’t need to do this,” You looked back to the giddy girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Everything you remembered was here. Your posters, fairy lights, and every single plant you’d nourished and grown made your room look like a rainforest. The light in the ceiling had been covered by patterns to ensure there was always shadows cast somewhere, whether it be floor, wall, or ceiling.

“It wasn’t just me! I employed help,” Kitty smiled, taking the liberties she knew she had to sit cross-legged on your bed. “And others offered to help.”

Logan held his breath as he felt your attention shift from Kitty to him, meeting your gaze of sheer wonder.

“You helped?” you asked, taking your bag from his shoulder, though he was almost too caught up in your gaze to notice.

“Here an’ there…” he muttered, trying to calm himself by leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest, attempting to escape your eyes by looking around your room.

“Here and there? That’s such a lie! He’d heard about your mutation, the shadow-casting thing was his idea!” Kitty grinned excitedly, and you all but choked on the realisation. He did this for you. He didn’t even know you, and he did this for you.

“Kitty, that’s en–oof!” Logan barely had time to react before your arms were around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your scent hit him like a truck, and it was nothing like how he’d imagine it. Not that he had imagined it…

“Thank you,” you whispered earnestly, and any guard he’d put up previously melted away. He didn’t exactly return your embrace, but his hands somehow found your waist as you pulled back, keeping your arms across his shoulders. “Maybe I can forgive you for stealing my old room now. Oh! And my job. And not believing I exist,” your grin held more mischief than he ever thought possible, but now you were back to teasing, he felt his thoughts return.

“Anythin’ else?” He asked, mirroring your expression.

“Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something,” was it Logan’s sudden and overactive imagination, or did your eyes just flicker to his lips?

Was it the sudden physical contact that made your body hum this way, or was it just the fact that he could bench-press three of you? You didn’t care, and somehow, you didn’t think he did either.

Until very suddenly and very abruptly, you did care. You stepped out of his hands far too quickly for his liking, your arms falling back by your sides. Though you didn’t look like you regretted anything.

“I really appreciate this, from both of you. And whoever else helped. This is… well it’s better than what I was imagining,” you gestured to the room around you. It truly was perfect for you. They’d really outdone themselves. He’d really outdone himself. And you couldn’t help the warmth that spread from the centre of your chest to your limbs. You wanted to know more about him. “What’s your mutation, by the way? You never said,” you asked before you could stop yourself, and Logan blinked in surprise.

Holding his fist up, he flexed the tendons holding his claws. He no longer winced when his knuckles split. No longer grimaced as he sliced through his own flesh, though watching your face did cause him to worry just a little.

You held your silence for a moment, not really knowing what to say. That looked painful as fuck, but you felt that asking might make it worse. “I see…” was all you said, before it hit you. “Wolverine! I get it now. It made sense before but now it actually fits!” You exclaimed, chuckling at his confusion.

“Whaddya mean it made sense before?”

“Don’t think too much into it,” you winked again, and Logan swore his heart stopped.

“Yeah, alright Phantom.” He cocked a brow at the playful narrow of your eyes before you melted into the shadows right in front of him. He’d been made aware of your mutation, having overheard Jean using both you and Kitty as examples of phasing mutants, but to actually see it for himself? He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He glanced around the room, retracting his claws as he looked for where you could have gone.

“Get it now?”

Logan whipped around to see you standing behind him, arms folded across your chest, a mischievous grin plastered across your features.

You always felt a sense of freedom when you released yourself into the shadows, like holding yourself in this corporeal state was somewhat of an effort. But letting yourself be free, to move like liquid amongst the darkness, it was like refueling a beaten truck.

Logan’s lips quirked into a smile as he nodded once. “Got it,” the silence lingered once again, some kind of charge energy crackled in the space between the two of you before he cleared his throat. “Kitty, we should– the fuck?”

You popped your head to the side, peering around Logan to see the space on your bed Kitty used to be sitting in was now completely empty. “Guess she left,” you shrugged. “Or she never existed.” That earned you a flick to the forehead from Logan, and you laughed, batting away his hand. How long had it been since you’d felt this comfortable with someone this quickly? Either it had been years, or never.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he smiled, this time completely unrestrained. And fuck was he gorgeous. But you had to remember this was a man you’d just met.

He had to remember this was a woman he’d just met.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll uh, see you later?” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound so hopeful at the end, but honestly? It was worth seeing him turn back to you with that same smirk you’d seen countless times already.

“Sure.” He said, before closing the door.

You sat heavily on your bed, your head in your hands. “What the fuck?”

Little did you know, Logan was having a similar reaction right outside your door, his back against the wood as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What. The. Fuck?”

Having almost drowned yourself in the shower, using that shampoo you’d missed so dearly on your travels, you’d changed clothes into something a lot more comfortable, a loose pair of sweats and a spaghetti strap tank top, before heading down to Xavier’s office where he’d just spent the last ten minutes explaining his plans to further your mutation. And to be completely honest with yourself, you hadn’t listened to half of it.

“So, in short, your ability, whilst appearing similar to Kitty’s, is actually entirely different. Where Kitty phases through objects, you become those shadows. Your molecules break down completely, unlike Miss Pryde.” He finished his explanation slowly, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had no idea what he’d just said. Luckily, when conversing with a telepath, you didn’t have to.

Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. “You’ve always said you felt a strain on yourself whilst corporeal, yes?” He asked, and you breathed in relief. Finally, a question you could answer.

“Yeah, it’s like I’m holding water with my bare hands. Or something like that,” you nodded, looking at yourself slightly curiously. “So, I’m not like Kitty?” you clarified, looking back up the the professor, who shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. We were mistaken before, simply assuming you were just another phasing mutant. But Jean ran some tests on your blood, and it was quite remarkable.” You’d almost forgotten the woman was in the room until she cleared her throat, her red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail.

“I think you describe it perfectly. Your molecules are being held together, more or less, by string, or so to speak. Not real string, but I think you understand.” You nodded. You actually did understand, because that’s how you constantly felt. It was, however, incredibly unnerving. What would happen if that string frayed? Or worse, fucking snapped altogether? Sensing your distress, Charles covered your hand with his own.

“My dear, that’s why we brought you back. We’ve been incredibly lucky so far, and clearly, you have an innate ability to control the string. It’s led us to believe that your abilities don’t stop at shadow walking.” He looked at you with understanding as you took this all in. He’d mentioned to you previously that he thinks you could do more.

“Shadow manipulation, right?” You asked though the question was rhetorical. You knew that’s where they were going with this. Charles glanced at Jean who nodded in confirmation.

“Essentially, yes. We think you could pull shadows from an already existing cast and wield them to your heart’s content. In… theory.” She hesitated, and you blew out a breath.

“But in practice?”

“In practice… honestly we don’t know. It will be a learning curve for all of us, to be blunt.” You nodded a little numbly. You’d only just returned and already you were being bombarded with hard truths.

Once again sensing your distress, Charles cleared his throat. “Well, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. You’ve had a long day and perhaps right now isn’t the best time to be entertaining new ideas.” He threw another look to Jean and she nodded again, standing from her seat.

You couldn’t agree more. This was a lot to take in. Especially since you’d become so comfortable with your mutation, believing that you were just another phaser like Kitty. But now, you were something else completely, something unknown. Even to yourself. It… scared you. And you didn’t scare easily. Worry? Sure. Impending sense of dread? Absolutely. Fear? Never.

“Right. Thanks, Professor. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then.” You dipped your head goodbye, before leaving his office and closing the door behind you. Tea. You needed tea. Fuck you needed something stronger than tea, but since this was a goddamn school, alcohol was strictly prohibited.

Fuck’s sake.

Dragging a hand down the side of your face, you absently made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Muscle memory guided you to the drinks cupboard, moving aside the jar of decaff coffee to reveal your personal stash of teabags. Whilst primarily you were a coffee drinker, when it was this late in the evening, you tended to steer clear of the caffeine. You weren’t the best at sleeping to begin with, let alone when your mind and body were buzzing.

You didn’t turn when you heard footsteps behind you, and the scrape of one of the chairs against the wooden floor, too focussed on rifling through the cupboard adjacent to the drinks one for our favourite mug. A gift from Kitty, she’d had custom-made for the print on the side to say ‘Phasers Forever!’. It made you a little sad to think about now. But, thankfully you found it, nestled right at the back next to the mug you’d gifted her. Also custom-made, but this just had the image of two hands with their little fingers linked. You’d made sure the gloves matched the ones you both wore in your suits.

Dropping the teabag into the mug, you instantly savoured the scented steam as you poured the hot water, even the aroma calming your slightly frayed nerves. Wow, that meeting had seriously rattled you. Looping the string and tag over the lip of the mug, you turned back to the room, only to almost drop your freshly made drink in surprise.

Logan. Hair slightly damp, in a white v-neck tank, sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in the chair with a bottle of what you could have sworn was larger in his bear paw of a hand. That same fucking smirk pulled at his lips.

“Phantom.” He raised his bottle in greeting. You wished you could match his energy, but honestly, you were drained from the day and the meeting. But you tried nonetheless.

“Wolvie.” You smiled back, though you could feel it didn’t reach your eyes. And clearly, he noticed too, expression shifting from self-assured confidence to slight concern.

“You alright?” Logan had only known you for less than a day, and he already knew he really didn’t like seeing you despondent.

“Yeah, fine.” It almost pained him physically seeing your eyes remain dull with your liar’s smile. That was something else he realised in that split second.

He really didn’t like you lying to him.

“Uh huh?” Fuck, he definitely knew you were hiding everything. How the fuck could he possibly tell that? He didn’t even know you! You sighed heavily, hoping it would help your next half-truth.

“I’m just tired. Long day, lots of emotions. Are you hungry? I’m starved and was gonna make pasta if you wanted some,” You tried your best to steer the conversation away from how you were feeling. Once again it wasn’t exactly a lie. You were starving, having not eaten since this morning, and it was now ten in the evening.

Logan knew you turned away quickly so you didn’t have to see his suspicion. If you weren’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering you, he knew he shouldn’t push. But, to his surprise, he found himself wanting to know. He wanted to know what was up, and maybe, just maybe, he could make you feel better. It seemed doubtful, but it was worth a shot. “How was your meeting with Charles?”

Your shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Gotcha.

“Yeah, fine. Just easing me back into life here basically. Nothing earthshattering.” Now that was a flat out lie, and once again you refused to turn around as you brought the kettle over to the tap, filling it to the max line before placing it back on the stand and flicking the switch. You found it easier to lie when you were busy doing something else and making pasta seemed perfect. Crouching to one of the lower cupboards, you pulled out the pack of wholewheat, refusing to eat any of the sugary white bullshit. Unfortunately, the one downside of busying yourself so remarkably well was that you weren’t always paying attention to what was going on around you.

For example, Logan walking up behind you to take the packet from your hand and place it on the counter. You turned, realising he’d given you minimal space to move. He was so close you could smell the gel he used in the shower. Woodsy and smoky, like a forest cabin. He smelt fucking great, but to be honest, you were too busy trying to avoid eye contact to care.

“S’that why you look like your pet just died?” You knew he was trying to be teasing, trying to lighten the mood, trying to create a comfortable environment for you to open up in, but you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. With a deep breath, you stepped to the side and out of his reach, opening the fridge to look for something to make a nice creamy sauce with.

“Look, Logan. I appreciate it, and what you’re trying to do, but at the same time, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So, and I mean this with the utmost respect, fucking drop it. I’m tired and I have genuinely had a long day, what more do you want me to say?”

Logan blinked. And blinked again for good measure. He wasn’t expecting you to be so sharp. He didn’t know why he wasn’t expecting it, but you really took him by surprise. That seemed to be all you were doing since the moment he met you. Though this one stung a little more than he cared to admit. “That might’ve been the nicest fuck off I’ve ever heard. But it was still a fuck off.” He shrugged. He knew deep down you were right. You didn’t know each other, and maybe was was expecting a little too much from a three-hour friendship. If he could even call it that.

“I didn’t mean–” You turned back from the fridge just in time to watch his disappearing form leave through the door, hearing his footsteps recede back up the stairs. You cursed inwardly, hating yourself for how you handled the situation. Though, looking at the pasta on the counter, you had an idea as to how to fix some of this.

It had been roughly half an hour since he’d left you in the kitchen, recognising you needed space, and in all honesty? Retreating to lick his own wounds. He didn’t know why he wanted you to open up so badly. It wasn’t like he had a long-lasting friendship with you. He met you today, for fuck’s sake. Only hours ago. Shit, this morning he still didn’t think you existed! Logan groaned at the memory of you shutting him down, wishing he’d handled the situation differently, and stopped prodding when he knew he should have. Fuck!

He’d just managed to resolve to come and talk to you, before there was a thump at his bedroom door, followed by another. That wasn’t any kind of fist knocking…

With deliberate caution, Logan stood from his bed, shining claws sliding through his knuckles as he approached the door, only for his nerves to be calmed when a familiar scent wafted through the cracks in the door. He didn’t dare get his hopes up until he turned the handle, pulling the door open to reveal you, stood before him, two steaming plates of pasta held impressively in one hand, and two bottles of larger in the other, your foot raised to kick the door a third time.

“Before you slam the door, I brought peace pesto pasta, homemade so you know it’s good.” You were honestly surprised he opened the door, though you eyed his claws cautiously. Who did he think it was?

Logan noticed your line of sight, retracting his claws to cross his arms, a brow raised. “Peace pesto pasta?”

You nodded. “Homemade, don’t forget.” Logan smiled slightly at the hope in your eyes. “And also beer so you physically can’t turn me down.” You raised the two bottles in your hand, and he sighed as if you were a nuisance. Unfortunately for him, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Homemade peace pesto, beer, and…?”

You stuck your tongue in your cheek. “An apology.” You reluctantly admitted, looking anywhere but his face. “Can I come in or are you gonna stare at me all evening? These aren’t the most balanced plates, been a while since I was a waitress so…” you mumbled in explanation, earning yourself a quizzical look.

“You were a waitress?”

“Yes and it was a long time ago but we can talk all about it if I can set these down somewhere they won’t fall on your feet,” you said hurriedly, borderline pleading with your eyes for him to let you in. It wasn’t as if he was about to say no, there was just something comical about the way you were managing to hold everything in your hands.

With a click of his tongue, he gestured for you to enter with his head, closing the door behind you as you set one of the plates down on the window seat, rubbing the red skin of your arm where the hot plate had ever so slightly burned you. He instantly felt bad, crossing the room with the intention to take your arm to look at it before you stuck it into the shadow on the wall, removing it again to reveal your skin pristine again.

“It wasn’t that bad, just uncomfortable,” you shrugged, handing a plate and bottle to him. Logan shook his head at what he’d just seen, giving you a look of ‘fair enough’ before taking the plate and beer gratefully. How long had it been since someone cooked for him? Though you’d done it as a peace offering, it still warmed his heart slightly. That and the fact it smelt fucking divine.

“I’m sorry…” you started, mindlessly poking your pasta around your plate with your fork after making yourself comfortable on his window seat. He guessed it used to be your window seat, but it still made him happy how comfortable you looked. “The Professor told me something in the meeting and… rattled me, that’s all,” you shrugged, popping a few pieces of green pasta into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

Logan decided to wait for you to continue, cracking open the bottle top of his beer with his teeth. Raising a brow as you looked over at him in slightly disturbed awe.

“How did you not just break your jaw?” you asked, flabbergasted at his seemingly endless pool of abilities.

“Not much can break it, considering my skeleton’s adamantium.” Logan was starting to like when you gaped at him in shock, admiring the way you jaw went completely slack, eyes wide.

“Wait, how don't you– ohhhhh…” It had taken you a while to notice just how much the bed dipped when he sat down. No wonder he was so ripped, he had to be that strong in order to fucking walk around. “Any other secrets you're hiding?” You asked, before instantly regretting the question when his eyes met yours.

“You wanna talk about keeping secrets now?” He asked curtly.

“Walked into that one…”

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

You sighed, fiddling with the bottle cap of your beer. Not to remove it, just to feel the sensation of the almost serrated edges helped to ground yourself.

“You know about my mutation, the whole shadow-walking thing?” You asked, to which Logan responded with a nod, finally taking a bite of the pasta you’d made. Your heart swelled with pride as he paused, looking from the food to you with an impressed smile. “So, turns out, it’s nothing like Kitty’s. It’s not phasing like we originally thought, but something totally different.” You started to explain to an intensely listening Logan. “Kitty phases through things. I actually become the shadows I enter. Like, it’s not still my body but just in the shadow, my molecules break down to literally be the shadow,” you could tell he was trying to understand, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way you genuinely found cute. “It’s like, I’m holding water in my bare hands,” you started to demonstrate, placing your plate and bottle down beside you to cup your hands in front of you. “And this, this is my body. My corporeal body. But, when I dive into shadows, that body breaks down,” your cupped hands splayed apart, fingers spread to simulate a liquid splash. Logan nodded thoughtfully through mouthfuls of pasta. “How Jean explained it was that my molecules are held together with some kind of thread, and I control that thread, but it’s a constant strain… Like, I can feel my body being held together. And it just… I don’t know. It scared me I guess.”

The room fell into silence as you finished your explanation, Logan setting his somehow clean plate to the side, leaning his elbows against his spread knees, beer bottle clasped in both hands. “I uh, don’t really understand what’s scary bubs, sounds like this is an opportunity to develop it, right?” he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign you were reassured.

You sighed, the back of your head softly hitting the wall behind you. “Well apparently we’ve been lucky so far, and my control over this string or thread or whatever the fuck is stronger than they thought but… I don’t know, I guess what first went through my mind was what would happen if the thread snapped. Would I just stop being able to shadow walk or–”

“Would you stop altogether, and be able to do nothing but shadow walk,” Logan finished, realisation dawning on his gruff features. You nodded slightly, not wanting to speak anything into existence.

“Exactly.” You whispered, staring into your borderline untouched pasta. You honestly didn’t know what to do, and you didn’t know what could be done. Surely, at this point, it was just a matter of time, right? The thought hit you like a lightning bolt. If it was just a matter of time, you just burdened this poor man, who you’d only met hours ago, with the knowledge that, eventually, you were likely just simply dissolve into nothing, cursed to live forever in the shadows of others. “Anyway, yeah, that’s why I had a face like, how did you put it? Like my pet just died,” You did your best to imitate his voice, hoping to shit it would lighten the mood of the room, but it only earned you a look of sympathy.

Fucking sympathy. You hated sympathy.

You’d come in here in the hopes to make things right with him and apologise for how you were earlier, but the one thing you really didn’t want, and never fucking wanted, was sympathy. You sighed heavily, preparing yourself for whatever ‘I’m so sorry this is happening speech’ he was clearly getting ready to spill.

But for the umpteenth time in the short while you’d known him, Logan surprised you. Taking your bottle of beer from your side, he cracked the lid off with his teeth, the same as before, before handing it back to you. You, as stunned as you were, managed to take it from his hand, the soft skin of your fingertips brushing the backs of his own. You smiled in resignation, raising your bottle in some tragic excuse of a toast. ‘To the inevitable’ you wanted to say, but you physically bit your tongue before taking a long sip of the slightly bitter liquid.

“It won’t come to that,” you’d forgotten, in the period of silence, that you were waiting for him to say something. You tilted your head in confusion, and it honestly took all of Logan’s willpower not to launch into you and wrap you up in his arms. He really needed to pull himself together. “Look, I was pretty fuckin’ helpless when I came here. And I know you remember the state Marie was in. Neither of us thought we were worth savin’, but look at us now,” in complete honesty, Logan still didn’t think he was worth saving, but that was neither here nor there. “He’ll help ya. You’ll get this under control. And it ain’t all bad. He already said you had more control than he thought,” You could feel his eyes search your face as you closed yours. Maybe he was right. Charles had said you had more control over these strings than he thought.

Logan was right. That was a good thing.

“Well, we’ll see tomorrow. That’s when we really start everything. We have another meeting before we’re straight into training, seeing if we can really develop this mutation before I cease to exist. No pressure right?” You half-joked, your lips quirking up into what you hoped was a smile. Or, at least, a lopsided one.

Fuck he wanted to kiss you. Kiss you. When the hell was the last time he’d felt like this toward anyone? He hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in goddamn years, and here you were, a woman he didn’t even believe existed a few hours ago, waltzing into his life and making him feel things like wanting to fucking kiss you.

“I uh… ya know I wanted to apologise too.”

Well, that caught you off guard. “Wh– wait what? Why? What for?” you couldn’t help firing off questions at speeds you didn’t know you were capable of, utter bafflement contorting your features.

“You were right. I don’t know you. And you don’t know me.” Logan watched as your face transformed from confusion, to hurt, to acceptance.

“Yeah…. I did say that didn’t I? I–”

“But,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence. “That doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know ya…” Logan almost laughed aloud at how your eyes went comically wide. Did you know how cute you were? When you weren’t telling him to fuck off, that is.

“I– Uh, okay, sure… what d’ya wanna know?” you asked, hoping to fuck you didn’t sound ridiculous. If you didn’t, Logan didn’t seem to mind or care.

“You can start of by tellin’ me how or where you learned to cook so well,” you scoffed loudly, rolling you eyes. “Nah I’m serious kid, that was fuckin’ great,” Logan leaned against the headboard, an arm positioned behind his head as you too made yourself comfortable again on the window seat, resting your elbow on your raised knee.

“Kid? Do you know how old I am?” you asked, smirking slightly. Though you were a little embarrassed, there was no way you’d show it. Kid? Did he seriously think you were that young?

“Do you know how old I am?” he retorted, that same self-assured glint dancing in his eye. You peered at him in scrutiny, emphasising how hard you were looking at him by squinting intensely.

“I’d put you at around like, early thirties? Maybe mid? Am I hot or cold?” you asked, kinda hoping he was in the same sort of age bracket as you were. Not for any specific reason of course… just for… science.

Yeah. For science.

Though your heart deflated slightly at his bark of a laugh. “Not quite. Try mid to late hundred and thirties. Give or take a few years.” Once again you gaped at him, mouth wide open, jaw completely slack. He could get used to that sight. Dangerously used to it. “Take a picture bubs, it’ll last longer.”

“B-but… how–? Y–? Hundred and– what the fuck?” You couldn’t get over it. Though your mind was still reeling, you managed to recover quickly. “Why you don’t look a day over ninety. You’re in good shape for a fossil, though I was wondering why I was getting a lot of calls from museums recently… probably looking for their exhibit back,” you smirked wildly whilst Logan just stared at you, trying his fucking damnest not to let his disobedient lips quirk anywhere other than down.

“Ya done?”

“I’ll probably think of some more. But, in all seriousness, how?” You asked, and Logan couldn’t detect anything other than genuine curiosity.

“Regenerative. I heal real quick, but that also keeps my body in good condition. Dunno exactly how old I am, but it’s around hundred and thirty,” he shrugged, and you whistled lowly. “So?” he prompted, and you looked up.

“So what?”

“How’dya make the pasta?”

You snorted in amusement, before launching into an explanation about your brother and how he always had an interest in cooking and had taught you to cook simple things, like how to make a béchamel sauce, or how to make pesto from scratch. And if you weren’t so caught up in your storytelling, you would have noticed Logan drinking in every damn word like he was parched for conversation. Listening to you talk, the cadence of your voice, the way you pronounce every letter and the way you occasionally drop a letter, it was hypnotic. You didn’t have an abundance of energy, and whether that was simply because you were exhausted after the day you’d had, or if that was just who you were, he didn’t know. But honestly? He didn’t really care.

As long as you kept talking, that was all that mattered. If he could take your mind off tomorrow, or your situation by letting you ramble about the smallest of things, he would. And he would pretend the whole time like he was doing this for you. And not because, at the end of everything, he liked listening to you.

“Anyway, that’s how you tell the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse. And I will not make that mistake again.” You’d somehow weaved from topic to topic, the conversation ebbing and flowing for hours, you both taking turns in sharing random stories from your pasts, little anecdotes that gave context to who you both were as people now. And it was only thanks to the brief silence and the conveniently timed chime of the clock did you realise how late it was. Or rather, how early.

It was one in the fucking morning. How the hell did that happen? Your eyes slid back to Logan, who at some point had made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat, and you watched as he had the same realisation. Holy shit.

“I should probably–”

“Look, you should–”

You both started to speak at the same time, before pausing to let the other talk first. It was gross and awkward and cringey but, for the life of you, you couldn’t find it in you to care.

You stood, gathering your long abandoned, though now empty plate, and crossed the room to grab his from the bedside table. You heard Logan sigh heavily behind you in what you assumed was exhaustion. You couldn’t blame the man. You’d been talking for hours.

Logan followed you to the door, holding it open for you as you stepped out into the hallway. You placed the crockery onto the floor, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his neck in a similar embrace to the one before. Only this time, you felt his strong arms return your hug, wrapping you up tightly against his chest.

“Thank you. For letting me talk for hours. You don’t need to pretend you enjoyed it, by the way. But thank you all the same.” You stepped back, and Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah well, you brought peace pesto and beer. How could I say no?” He quipped, and you chuckled lightly. He wasn’t about to admit he enjoyed your company far more than he should have done, and he sure as shit wasn’t about to admit he wasn’t pretending to like it. His eyes softened at your laugh in a way he’d stopped them from doing all evening. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You peered up at him, a knowing spark dancing in your iris. You noticed. Of course, you’d noticed. That was almost exactly what you’d said to him earlier. The same hopeful lilt and all.

“Sure.” Was all you said in return, before picking up the empty plates and bottles off the floor, and turning away to head back down the hallway. You refused to look back, worried that if you did, you’d run straight back to his room and never fucking leave.

But if you had. If you had just turned to look over your shoulder, you would have seen him leaning against the doorway still, eyes following you down the stairs, and lingering still, long after you’d disappeared.

Yeah… he was definitely in trouble.

#wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #x men x reader #x men logan #logan howlett #james logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #the wolverine x reader #logan smut #logan x reader smut #x men wolverine #essa's works

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mcrdvcks · 5 days ago

Text

i love you, always and forever ࿐‧₊ girl i've always been

chapter summary: While having a relaxing, lazy morning, there is an attack on New York City being broadcast, with some familiar and unfamiliar faces.

word count: 8.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: as i said before with peter, i'm a mcu fan at heart, and i wanted to try and bring in the avengers into the x-men (plus i have an idea for a little side storyline. it'll make sense once you read!)

also, thank you for 1,500 followers! and happy easter (if you celebrate)!

warnings/tags: reader wears glasses, fluff, snow fight, slight angst, the battle of new york, the avengers, protective!logan

series masterlist - chapter 11 → chapter 13

“Please?” Theresa drawled, her tiny hands clasped together, the mittens looking particularly oversized on her.

“It’s freezing, Tess.” You replied, looking out the window to the snow covered grounds.

“But Scott and Jean are coming outside too!” Theresa added.

Jones nodded, “yeah, and so is Ororo, and Rogue, Bobby, Jub—”

“Summers, huh?” Logan questioned, his arms over his chest. He turned to look at you, “whaddya say sweetheart?”

You crossed your arms, a smirk tugging at your lips. “You only want to do this because Scott is going outside to have a snowball fight with the kids, and you don’t want to look like a wimp.”

Logan scoffed, his mouth pulling into a half-grin. “Sweetheart, I ain’t worried about Summers. Kid’s got an arm like a wet noodle.”

Theresa gasped dramatically, her mittens flying to her face. “Mr. Logan, that’s not nice! Mr. Summers is teaching me how to pitch!”

“Yeah?” Logan raised an eyebrow. “How’s that workin’ out for ya?”

Theresa frowned, scrunching her nose. “I hit Bobby in the face once.”

Jones laughed. “You hit Bobby like, three times.”

“That’s ‘cause Bobby’s head’s too big to miss.” Logan quipped, earning giggles from the kids. He turned back to you, his expression softening. “What do you think? Wanna show these kids how it’s done?”

You sighed, glancing back at the window. Snow swirled outside, the grounds blanketed in white. The wind rattled the glass, making you instinctively pull your cardigan tighter. “It’s freezing out there, Logan. I’m not built for this kind of weather.”

“You sure about that? Thought you were tough,” Logan teased, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “What’s a little snow gonna do to you, darlin’?”

You narrowed your eyes, feeling the familiar rush of playful irritation. “Fine. But if I get frostbite, you’re the one explaining it to Jean.”

Logan grinned, looking far too smug for your liking. “Deal.”

---

Outside, the cold hit immediately. You tugged your scarf up over your nose, trying not to shiver as you followed Logan toward the group of students. Snow crunched underfoot, the air filled with excited chatter as Scott and Jean stood off to the side, orchestrating teams.

“Alright, everyone!” Scott called out, clapping his hands. “We’re splitting into two teams. Jean and I will be captains—”

“Hold up,” Logan interrupted, his voice cutting through the noise. “What about me?”

Scott turned, his expression equal parts surprised and amused. “You? You’re joining?”

Logan shrugged, slipping off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby bench. “Someone’s gotta show these kids how to win.”

Jean rolled her eyes with a good-natured smile. “Logan, this is supposed to be fun, not a war.”

“Fun’s overrated,” Logan replied, cracking his knuckles.

You groaned, adjusting your glasses. “He’s going to take this way too seriously.”

Jean leaned closer to you, her breath visible in the freezing air. “He’s just trying to impress you.”

“By pelting kids with snowballs?”

“Exactly.”

Before you could respond, Logan’s voice boomed again. “Alright, Y/N’s on my team.”

“What?” you sputtered, looking at him incredulously. “I didn’t agree to this!”

“Too late,” Logan said, already rounding up a small group of eager-looking students. “You’re with me, sweetheart.”

Scott smirked, leaning toward Jean. “This should be good.”

---

The game quickly devolved into chaos. Logan, true to form, treated the snowball fight like a military operation. He barked orders to the kids on his team, pointing out strategic positions and even building a makeshift snow fort. You hung back, dodging the occasional snowball and trying not to laugh at how seriously he was taking it.

“Y/N, cover the flank!” Logan shouted, ducking behind a tree as a snowball whizzed past his head.

“You know this isn’t an actual battle, right?” you called back, crouching behind the fort.

“Tell that to Summers!” Logan growled, launching a perfectly aimed snowball that hit Scott square in the chest.

Scott stumbled back, brushing snow off his jacket. “Really, Logan? You’re aiming for me now?”

“Always, bub.”

Jean sighed dramatically. “Men.”

The kids, meanwhile, were having the time of their lives. Theresa and Jones worked together to build an impressive stockpile of snowballs, while Bobby used his powers to create perfectly round projectiles. Rogue ducked and weaved through the chaos, laughing as she nailed Logan in the shoulder with a particularly icy snowball.

“You’re lucky I like you, kid,” Logan muttered, brushing snow off his flannel.

Meanwhile, you stayed hidden behind the fort, because a few years ago when a snowball fight happened, someone—Scott—accidentally hit you in the face. But the worst part wasn’t that, it was the fact that your glasses broke and you couldn’t see for the rest of the day.

You huddled behind the makeshift fort with Jubilee, pulling your scarf tighter as the wind bit at your cheeks. Jubilee rubbed her arms through her thick jacket, shivering beside you. “Why is this my life? I could be inside right now, drinking cocoa.”

You adjusted your glasses, peeking over the snow wall just as a snowball zipped past, missing you by inches. “I’m wondering the same thing. I didn’t sign up for this level of chaos.”

Jubilee groaned dramatically, flopping backward into the snow. “Who even decided this was a good idea? Oh wait, it was Scott. Of course.”

You smirked. “Blame Logan. He turned this into a military operation.”

“Speaking of...” Jubilee pointed to Logan, who was standing a few feet away, rallying your team of students like they were about to storm Normandy. His flannel was dusted with snow, and his eyes were locked on Scott like he was calculating his next move.

“Alright, kids!” Logan barked. “Jones, cover the left. Theresa, keep Bobby busy. Y/N, stop hiding and provide backup.”

You threw up your hands. “I am backup! From back here!”

Logan turned and gave you a look—a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Sweetheart, what happened to teamwork?”

“Teamwork doesn’t involve me losing my glasses again,” you shot back. “I still have PTSD from last time.”

“I told you,” Logan replied, his smirk growing, “I’ll keep your glasses safe. Just stick with me.”

Jubilee snorted. “Oh sure, because he’s never broken anything in his life.”

“Hey,” Logan growled, pointing a finger at Jubilee, “don’t push it, kid.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. Logan’s unwavering confidence in this absurd snowball fight—and in dragging you into it—was annoyingly endearing. Before you could retort, a snowball hit the fort’s edge, sending bits of snow scattering onto your face.

“Y/N!” Theresa called, her red hair peeking over the fort as she ducked another projectile. “Bobby just took Rogue out! We have the advantage!”

You sighed, pushing yourself to your feet. “Alright, fine. But if anyone breaks my glasses, there’s going to be trouble.”

Logan’s grin widened as he lobbed another snowball, hitting Scott in the shoulder. “There’s my girl. Come on, darlin’, time to show Summers how it’s done.”

You stepped around the fort cautiously, scooping up some snow and packing it into a firm ball. Jubilee muttered behind you, “This is going to end in tears.”

“Probably mine,” you replied dryly.

Across the snowy battlefield, Scott and Jean were crouched behind a smaller fort. Scott’s tactical stance and determined expression were straight out of a playbook, while Jean looked like she was trying not to laugh.

“Jean, cover me!” Scott shouted, throwing a snowball that missed Logan by several feet.

Jean shook her head, smiling. “Cover you from what? You’re not even aiming.”

“Hey!” Scott protested. “I hit Logan earlier!”

“Barely,” Logan said, his tone smug. “Summers, you couldn’t hit me if you were standing two feet away.”

Scott scowled. “Alright, that’s it—”

Before he could finish, you lobbed a snowball that smacked him square in the chest. The kids on your team erupted into cheers. Scott looked down at the snowy mark on his jacket, then up at you with mock betrayal.

“What—Y/N?” he called, shaking his head.

“Sorry, Scott,” you replied, biting back a grin. “Logan made me do it.”

Logan barked a laugh, tossing an arm around your shoulder briefly before returning to the battle. “She’s finally coming around to the winning side.”

Jean leaned out from her fort, her eyes sparkling with humor. “Don’t encourage him, Y/N.”

Logan called back, “Too late! She’s all mine now.”

You rolled your eyes but felt a warmth spreading through you despite the cold. For all his bravado and bluster, there was something undeniably comforting about Logan’s presence, even in the midst of a ridiculous snowball war.

“Don’t get cocky,” you muttered, brushing snow off your sleeves.

“I’m not cocky,” Logan said, throwing another perfectly aimed snowball that hit Scott in the arm. “I’m just good.”

Jubilee groaned loudly from behind you. “Can we end this already? My fingers are icicles!”

“Not until Summers surrenders!” Logan declared, ducking another snowball and tossing one back with perfect precision.

Jean laughed, raising her hands. “Okay, truce! Before someone loses a limb or, worse, their dignity.”

Scott lowered his arm reluctantly. “Fine. Truce.”

Logan smirked, straightening up and brushing snow off his hands. “Guess we know who the real champ is.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Scott muttered.

As the snowball fight dissolved, you found yourself walking back toward the mansion with Logan at your side. He glanced down at you, his expression softer now. “Not bad out there, darlin’. You might just be my secret weapon.”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “Next time, I’m staying inside.”

“Sure you are,” Logan replied, his grin warm. “You can’t resist me.”

“You’re impossible,” you said, nudging him lightly.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice low and amused. “But you love me anyway.”

---

You hummed along to the catchy pop tune playing softly on the kitchen radio as you stirred the stir-fry. The savory aroma of chicken, steak, and colorful veggies filled the air, the sizzling sound adding a cozy rhythm to your evening.

Footsteps approached, deliberate and heavy, and a moment later, Logan appeared beside you. He held out a glass of red wine with a casual smirk, keeping the other for himself. “Figured you could use this.”

“Thanks,” you said, pausing long enough to take it from him. You raised an eyebrow as Logan leaned slightly over your shoulder, inspecting the pan. His face was far too serious for something as mundane as dinner.

“Yes,” you deadpanned, taking a sip of the wine, “I added steak. Just for you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Smart choice, sweetheart. Can’t go wrong with steak.”

You rolled your eyes and returned your focus to the pan, the warmth from the stove a welcome contrast to the winter air outside. As you adjusted the heat, Logan stepped closer, his hands resting lightly on your hips. His chest was warm against your back, and the soft pressure of his touch made you pause.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, your voice colored with amusement.

Logan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist and started to sway, his movements slow and unhurried. You blinked, trying to stifle a laugh. “Seriously?”

“You were hummin’, so I thought I’d join in,” he said, his deep voice low near your ear.

“I was humming to a pop song, not a ballad,” you replied, though you couldn’t quite bring yourself to pull away. His embrace was too warm, too grounding.

Logan tugged you gently, nudging you away from the stove. “C’mere.”

“Logan, the food—”

“It’ll be fine. Just a minute.”

The look in his eyes left little room for argument, so you allowed him to guide you a few steps away. The music from the radio filled the quiet as Logan pulled you close. His movements were uncharacteristically tender, his calloused hands resting lightly on your lower back as he led you in what could only loosely be described as a slow dance.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You know this is a pop song, right? This doesn’t really... fit.”

“I don’t care.” Logan’s lips twitched into a faint grin, but his eyes softened. “Music’s just noise. It’s the person you’re dancin’ with that matters.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, though you hid your face by tucking your head against his shoulder. His flannel smelled faintly of pine and something uniquely him, grounding you in a way few things could. The two of you swayed in place, ignoring the incongruous beat of the music and the simmering stir-fry just a few feet away.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you murmured, “You’re in a rare mood.”

“Yeah, maybe I am,” Logan said, his tone softer than usual. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “’S nice, just... bein’ here with you.”

You didn’t respond right away, letting his words settle in your chest. For all of Logan’s gruffness and his habit of turning everything into a challenge, these rare, quiet moments reminded you of how fiercely he loved. How fiercely he loved you.

Nice didn’t seem like the right word for it. It was everything.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you teased, your voice quieter now.

Logan chuckled, his breath warm against your temple. “Nah. I’m lucky you love me.”

The crackling sound of the stir-fry snapped you back to reality, and you gave him a gentle nudge. “Okay, dinner’s about to burn. Let me go.”

Logan tightened his arms briefly, a teasing glint in his eye. “One more second.”

“Logan.”

With an exaggerated sigh, he loosened his hold, letting you step back toward the stove. You stirred the pan quickly, relieved that nothing had scorched. Logan leaned against the counter, watching you with a lazy grin, his wineglass dangling from his fingers.

“You’re impossible,” you said, glancing over at him.

“Yeah,” Logan agreed easily. “But you love me anyway.”

You shot him a look but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. In the background, the radio shifted to another upbeat track, the music filling the small kitchen like a promise of more moments like this. Moments where time felt like it belonged solely to the two of you.

---

Sleeping in was rare, even on the weekends. But today, as the noon sun poured through the curtains, bathing the room in soft light, you both indulged in the rare luxury. The warmth of Logan’s body beside you and the quiet of the mansion made the bed feel like the only place that mattered.

You stretched lazily, your hand brushing Logan’s chest as he gave a low, contented grunt. “Finally awake?” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.

“Mm, not yet,” you replied, burying your face against his shoulder. His scent—pine, leather, and something faintly metallic—wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment.

Logan chuckled softly, his hand slipping to the small of your back. “Y’know, most people are already up by now.”

“Most people don’t get woken up at 5 a.m. by the sound of kids trying to build a trampoline out of their powers,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt.

He smirked. “Fair enough.”

The room stayed quiet for a while, the two of you enjoying the stillness. Logan’s hand moved in slow circles along your back, a soothing motion that almost lulled you back to sleep.

“You’re a lot clingier today,” you teased, looking up at him.

“Guess I am,” Logan said with a shrug, his expression unreadable. “Don’t hear you complainin’, though.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away. “No. I’m not.”

A sharp knock at the door made you groan, breaking the moment. “It’s Jean!” came the muffled voice from the other side. “You two need to get to the common room right now.”

Logan frowned. “What’s the rush?”

“Just hurry! You’re going to want to see this,” Jean called back before her footsteps faded down the hall.

You sighed, reluctantly pushing yourself up. “Guess our lazy morning is over.”

“Always somethin’,” Logan muttered, rubbing a hand over his face before climbing out of bed.

You slid out as well, slipping on your glasses and grabbing your robe from the chair. Logan was already pulling on his flannel shirt and jeans, moving with his usual efficiency. Within minutes, the two of you were heading down the hall toward the common room.

The mansion was unusually quiet for midday, the muffled sound of a news broadcast growing louder as you approached the common room.

When you walked in, the screen immediately caught your attention. Footage of New York City filled the TV, with buildings crumbling and smoke rising into the sky. The words “Breaking News: Alien Invasion in Manhattan” scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

"What the hell?" Logan muttered, crossing his arms as he stared at the footage.

Jean turned to you both, her expression grim. "It started an hour ago. There’s some kind of portal above the city. They’re calling it an alien invasion."

Your heart sank as you watched the chaos unfold on the screen. Cars were overturned, people running for their lives as enormous, alien-looking creatures wreaked havoc.

The kids spoke quietly amongst themselves.

“Who’s that guy with the hammer?” Peter asked.

Jubilee leaned in, “I saw a Reddit thread sayin’ he was an alien.”

Logan let out a groan, rubbing a hand down his face as he stared at the chaotic footage on the television. "Now there are damn aliens? What’s next, giant lizards takin’ over the city?"

"Don’t jinx it," Jean muttered, arms crossed as she stood beside the couch, her gaze glued to the screen. "This is already bad enough."

Scott stood nearby, frowning deeply. "They’ve got a lot of tech. Look at the size of that portal. That’s not something we can just ignore."

"We’re not getting involved, Scott," Jean cut in sharply. Her tone was firm but calm, the way it always was when she knew she needed to be the voice of reason. "This isn’t our fight. We don’t even know what we’d be walking into."

"She’s right," Logan added, his voice gruff. He leaned against the back of the couch, arms crossed. "Let the army or whoever deal with it. We’ve got enough on our plate without runnin’ into some other mess."

Bobby raised an eyebrow as he watched the screen. "That guy in the suit... isn’t that Tony Stark? The billionaire who’s always in the news?"

"Yeah," Peter said, squinting. "And isn’t that Captain America? Wait, I thought he was dead—or, like, frozen or something?"

"You mean that propaganda poster boy?" Logan’s voice had an edge, but there was something unspoken beneath it. His eyes lingered on the screen, his jaw tightening as the camera panned to a blond man throwing a shield with almost impossible precision.

Jean glanced over at Logan, her brow furrowed. "You know him?"

Logan gave a noncommittal shrug, his expression carefully neutral. "We fought together a long time ago. Doesn’t matter now."

You shifted your weight beside him, catching the way his knuckles whitened against his biceps. Gently, you placed a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

He looked down at you, his expression softening in that way only you seemed to bring out. "I’m fine. Just didn’t expect to see his face today, is all."

Scott cleared his throat, his arms crossed. "We still need to figure out what our stance is on this. If those things—whatever they are—start spreading beyond Manhattan, we’ll have to act."

Jean shook her head. "For now, we wait. The situation’s still unfolding, and we don’t even know what’s going on up there. Jumping in blind could make things worse."

Logan smirked faintly. "For once, I agree with Red."

Jean rolled her eyes at the nickname but didn’t argue.

The footage shifted to show the so called ‘alien’—a large man with a hammer, lightning crackling around him as he brought it down on a group of the alien creatures. Peter practically jumped up from his seat. "Okay, who is that guy? Thor? Like, the Norse god?"

Jubilee leaned forward, a grin spreading across her face. "Maybe he is! Did you see the lightning? That’s insane."

"Focus, guys," you said gently, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Their excitement was contagious, even if the situation was grim.

Logan’s hand found its way to your back, a subtle, grounding gesture. "Kids can get excited all they want, but we’re stayin’ out of it," he said firmly. "End of story."

Jean nodded in agreement. "Logan’s right. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves."

The room quieted, the group’s attention returning to the screen. Despite the chaos unfolding in New York, the decision had been made—for now, the X-Men would stand back. It wasn’t their fight, not yet. But the tension lingered, unspoken questions hanging in the air.

You leaned into Logan’s side, your hand brushing his as you watched the screen. His thumb grazed the back of your hand, a small gesture of reassurance. Whatever was happening out there, at least for now, you were together—and for Logan, that was enough.

---

The new book you got had you in a hold. You and Jean were reading the same book, which was a rarity since you both had different tastes. But Gone Girl was intriguing and had a way of pulling you in.

And since it was a Saturday, it was the perfect day to relax and read… and possibly finish the book in one day.

You sat down at the island as Logan made breakfast for the two of you. He placed your cup of tea in front of you, the steam curling upward like a warm invitation. “It’s hot. Don’t burn yourself,” he warned with a pointed look, then turned back to the stove where a skillet sizzled with eggs and bacon.

“Thanks,” you murmured distractedly, already nose-deep in the novel you’d cracked open just moments before. You adjusted your glasses, the light from the nearby window perfectly illuminating the pages.

Logan glanced over his shoulder as he flipped the bacon, catching sight of you. “That book got somethin’ I don’t? You didn’t even notice me makin’ you tea, sweetheart.”

“Hmm?” you mumbled, vaguely aware he was talking but too caught up in the tangled mess of secrets the characters in Gone Girl were unraveling.

Logan huffed softly, half amused and half annoyed. “Never thought I’d lose to a damn book,” he muttered under his breath. His tone was light, but he watched you carefully as he slid the food onto plates.

“Eggs okay? Or do ya want somethin’ fancier, like toast?” He set your plate in front of you.

“Mmhmm,” you replied absently, still buried in the text.

Logan’s brows shot up. He leaned forward slightly, his hands braced on the counter as he smirked. “Right. Guess ‘mmhmm’ means ‘chef’s choice,’ huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you said without looking up.

Logan straightened with an exaggerated sigh and dug into his own breakfast, watching as you ate your eggs without once lifting your eyes from the book. He shook his head, almost impressed by how oblivious you were to his efforts.

---

By mid-afternoon, Logan’s patience was wearing thin. After breakfast, you’d curled up on the couch, the book balanced on your knees as you fell even deeper into its story. He’d tried everything—talking about the updates he was making to his motorcycle, asking you random questions, even joking about how the least you could do was come hold a wrench for him. Your responses were minimal at best, a distracted hum or soft “uh-huh” here and there.

Logan stood in the doorway of the living room now, hands on his hips. “So, is this what it feels like?”

“Hm?” you replied without looking up.

“When I’m tuned out ‘cause you’re ramblin’ about Schrödinger’s whatever or that theory… the one with all the dimensions.”

“String theory,” you corrected automatically, flipping a page.

He snorted. “Yeah, that one. Pretty much what I sound like when you’re talkin’, huh?”

“Mm,” you replied, not even registering the teasing lilt in his tone.

Logan turned and trudged into the hallway, muttering under his breath. “Unbelievable. Even Scott’d get more of a reaction.”

As if on cue, Scott appeared at the other end of the hall, looking just as annoyed as Logan felt. “You too?” he asked.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

Scott gestured vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. “Jean. She’s been stuck in that book all day. I asked her about a briefing—nothing. Asked if she’d seen Rogue—‘hmm.’ She’s completely tuned me out.”

Logan barked a laugh. “Let me guess. Gone Girl?”

Scott stared at him for a beat. “Yeah.”

Logan shook his head knowingly. “Figures. Guess that makes me one of the gone guys.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Glad someone’s having fun.”

---

Evening rolled around, and you were finally nearing the end of the book. The story’s climax was in sight, and you barely noticed the room dimming with the setting sun. You were perched on the bed now, your back propped up against a mountain of pillows.

Logan stood in the doorway, arms folded, watching you. He had to admit, it was kind of cute how engrossed you were. But after being ignored all day? Cute wasn’t enough to save you.

With a smirk tugging at his lips, Logan walked over, reached out, and plucked the book straight out of your hands.

“Hey!” you yelped, sitting up and reaching for it. “What are you doing?!”

He stepped back, holding the book up over his head. “You were ignorin’ me,” he said simply.

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” you argued, scooting to the edge of the bed as if you could reach it.

“Yeah, you were,” Logan replied, his tone teasing. “All damn day, sweetheart. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Your eyes narrowed as you pushed your glasses higher on your nose. “Logan, give it back.”

“Not until you gimme a kiss,” he countered with a grin.

You blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, holding the book out of your reach. “One kiss, and you get your book back.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” His smirk widened.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “This is ridiculous.”

“Then I guess you don’t need the book back.” Logan made a show of flipping through the pages as if he was about to start reading it himself.

“Alright, alright!” You got up on your knees, leaning toward him. “But just one.”

Logan lowered the book slightly, clearly pleased with himself. “One’s all I need, darlin’.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips. Logan’s grin widened against your mouth, and before you could pull away, his hand came up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss just enough to make you forget your irritation.

When he finally let you go, his eyes were full of mischief. “There. Was that so hard?”

You snatched the book from his hand, your cheeks warm. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” Logan agreed with a smirk. “But you love me anyway.”

---

After an exhausting day of classes and too much loud chattering from the students, all you wanted was to curl up next to Logan and watch whatever would make him happy. Even if it was one of those old westerns again.

You got to the bedroom and dropped your satchel onto the floor. Logan was already in the room, his hair partly wet from his shower and a towel over his bare shoulder.

“Rough day?” He asked.

“Would’ve been easier if I didn’t wear these shoes,” you grumbled.

Logan sighed and kneeled down in front of you, holding one leg with one hand and easily slipping off your heel before doing the same with the other. His rough hands brushed lightly against your ankle, sending a small shiver up your spine.

"You’re gonna end up with blisters wearin’ shoes like that all day," he muttered, glancing up at you with a mix of annoyance and concern.

“I didn’t think I was gonna be on my feet that much. I had to teach Scott’s class because he was busy doing something with the Professor.”

Logan ran a hand through his damp hair, tossing the towel onto a nearby chair. “Scott owes you big for takin’ his class,” he muttered, his gaze softening as he kneeled and pressed his thumb gently along the curve of your arch.

You sighed, melting a bit under his careful touch. “I didn’t mind. It just wasn’t exactly in my plans today.”

“Bet he didn’t even tell ya why, did he?” Logan asked, his lips curving into a knowing smirk.

You shook your head, leaning back slightly as he switched to your other foot. “Nope. Just said he and the Professor were busy. Typical Scott.”

“Figures,” Logan muttered, standing up and reaching for his beater. He slipped it on, the fabric clinging to him in a way that always distracted you for a moment longer than it should have. “How’s that feel now?”

“Better,” you admitted with a small smile. “Thanks.”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Least I can do.”

You were about to flop onto the bed to finally relax, maybe even convince Logan to watch something other than The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, when a sharp knock sounded at the door. Before either of you could respond, Jean’s voice came through.

“Logan? Y/N? Charles needs us in the briefing room. Now.”

Logan groaned, his head falling back. “Of course. Can’t get a damn minute of peace around here.”

You pushed yourself off the bed, but the moment your bare feet hit the floor, a sharp sting shot up your heels. You winced, grabbing onto the edge of the bed for balance.

Logan noticed immediately. “What’d I just say about those shoes, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone part exasperation, part concern. Without waiting for a response, he stepped closer, his hands already reaching for you.

“I can walk,” you protested as he scooped you up effortlessly, arms cradling you against his chest. “And what if we get there and I need shoes?” you added, trying to inject some logic into the situation.

Logan huffed a laugh, glancing down at you as he carried you toward the door. “Guess you’ll just have to sit pretty and let me handle it.”

Jean was waiting in the hallway, a knowing smirk on her face as she saw Logan carrying you. “You’re really leaning into the knight-in-shining-armor thing, huh?”

“Don’t start, Jeannie,” Logan shot back, his tone light but his grip on you firm.

Ororo and Hank joined the group as you made your way down the hall, both raising eyebrows at the sight of Logan carrying you.

“Rough day, Y/N?” Ororo teased gently.

“You could say that,” you replied with a sheepish smile.

When you finally reached the briefing room, Logan set you down gently in a chair, crouching briefly to make sure you were comfortable. His large hand lingered on your knee as if to reassure himself you were okay.

You barely noticed because the moment your gaze lifted, your breath caught. Standing near Charles and Scott was a group of people you immediately recognized from news reports and scientific journals. One in particular had your jaw dropping.

“It’s Bruce Banner,” you whispered, eyes wide as you leaned closer to Logan. “Logan. That’s Bruce Banner.”

Logan glanced at you, his brow furrowing. “The science guy?”

“Yes, the science guy,” you whispered back, trying not to stare too obviously. “This is incredible.”

Logan’s lips twitched, but his response was cut off by Charles clearing his throat. “Thank you all for coming. As you may have noticed, we have some new faces here today.”

Scott, standing rigid at Charles’s side, didn’t look thrilled, but his posture screamed professionalism. Beside him, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Thor, and Steve Rogers stood with varying degrees of curiosity and skepticism.

But it was Steve who caught your attention next. His gaze swept the room until it landed on Logan—and then, surprisingly, on you. His expression flickered, something like recognition flashing across his face before it was gone. You frowned, unsure of what you’d just seen, but the moment passed as Charles continued.

“Allow me to introduce the Avengers.”

You reached for Logan’s hand under the table, your thumb gently tracing patterns over his knuckles and palm. His hand tightened slightly around yours, a subtle reassurance as you sat in the presence of these strangers.

“The Avengers? Whatta stupid name,” Logan muttered, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You shot him a look, lips twitching despite yourself. “Logan.”

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “I’m just sayin’.”

Charles continued speaking, his calm, authoritative voice attempting to bridge the gap between the X-Men and their unexpected visitors. “Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. reached out to us following the incident in New York City. He felt it prudent that we meet, given the shared nature of our goals.”

Scott, standing near the Professor, looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. His arms were crossed tightly, and his jaw was set in a way that screamed I don’t trust this.

Thor, meanwhile, was visibly intrigued, his gaze sweeping across the room with curiosity. “So these are the famed X-Men,” he remarked, his deep voice filling the space. “It is a pleasure to meet warriors of such renown.”

Logan’s grip on your hand tightened, and you glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at Thor; his eyes were locked on Steve Rogers, who was staring back at him with a mix of recognition and surprise.

“Logan,” Steve said, stepping forward slightly. His voice was steady, but there was a faint undercurrent of disbelief. “It’s been… a long time.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “It has.”

The tension was thick, but you couldn’t help noticing the flicker of something else in Steve’s face—something that shifted when his gaze slid to you. His expression softened, and for the briefest moment, he looked like he was about to say something. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by his usual calm demeanor.

Tony Stark, leaning casually against the wall, jumped in. “Wait, wait. You’re telling me you two go way back to World War II? How old are you people?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Older than you, bub. That’s all you need to know.”

Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. “Noted.”

Jean, seated beside you, leaned in closer. “You okay?” she whispered, sensing the tension in the room.

You nodded, though your mind was racing. You weren’t entirely sure what was happening between Logan and Steve, but it wasn’t just the history between them that had you unsettled.

Charles, ever the mediator, broke through the undercurrent of tension. “I believe it would be beneficial for all of us to share information and find common ground. We face threats that may one day require collaboration.”

“Agreed,” Natasha said, her voice calm but firm. “If we’re going to work together, we need to understand each other’s capabilities.”

Logan scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Capabilities, huh? You wanna see what we can do?”

“Logan,” you murmured again, placing a hand on his arm. He glanced at you, the edges of his frustration softening slightly.

Bruce, who had been quiet until now, cleared his throat. “I think what Natasha means is that if we’re going to trust each other, we need transparency. We’re not here to fight anyone.”

“Yet,” Logan muttered under his breath.

You sighed, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “Honey.”

Thor chuckled, clearly amused by the dynamic between you and Logan. “Your companion has spirit,” he said, addressing Logan directly.

“She’s got more than spirit,” Logan replied, his tone softer now as he glanced at you.

The meeting continued, with Charles and Nick Fury leading the discussion while the rest of you listened. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Steve’s gaze kept drifting toward you, but you didn’t dare look back.

When the meeting finally adjourned, the room began to clear. Steve lingered, his eyes finding Logan once again.

“Logan,” he said quietly, his tone deliberate.

“Cap.” Logan’s response was curt, but his grip on your hand tightened.

Steve hesitated, his gaze flickering to you. “It’s… good to see you again.”

You blinked, startled. “Me?”

Logan’s jaw clenched, and he stood abruptly, pulling you gently to your feet. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

You barely had time to process what had just happened as Logan led you out of the room, his pace brisk, your feet slightly stinging. It wasn’t until you were back in the privacy of your shared room that you managed to catch your breath.

“Logan, what was that about?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Nothing you need to worry about, darlin’.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “Logan—”

“Not now,” he said, his tone soft but firm. He pulled you into his arms, his grip almost possessive. “I just… needed to get you outta there.”

You rested your head against his chest, your mind still spinning. You knew that whatever it was, Logan didn’t want to talk about it, but there were too many questions now rattling inside your head.

“What did he mean again?” You said, your voice muffled against his chest, “do you think he meant… one of my past lives?”

Logan didn’t answer right away. His arms around you were solid, grounding, but his grip tightened just enough for you to notice. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” he said finally, his voice low and gravelly. “Could be. Could just be Cap bein’ Cap. He’s always got that boy scout thing goin’ on.”

You tilted your head back to look at him, your brow furrowed. “Logan, don’t brush this off. He looked like he knew me. Not just ‘oh, you remind me of someone’—he knew me.”

His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking as he stared down at you. “I told you about 1943,” he said after a moment. “You were a nurse. I met you right before I shipped out for Operation Husky. We didn’t get much time together—just a week—but maybe he remembers you from back then. I don’t know how else he’d know you.”

You bit your lip, trying to piece it together. “He said ‘it’s good to see you again.’ Not ‘it’s good to meet you’ or even ‘you look familiar.’ That’s… specific, Logan.”

“I know,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just—I don’t like it. Him lookin’ at you like that. Like he’s got some kind of claim or somethin’.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Logan, are you jealous?”

His lips twitched in what might’ve been a smirk if he weren’t so serious. “No,” he said, but his tone betrayed him. “I just don’t trust him. Or any of ‘em, really.”

You sighed, resting your hands on his chest. “You know, you can admit it’s weird without growling at everyone in the room.”

“I wasn’t growling.”

“Logan.”

“…Fine. Maybe I was growling a little.” He finally cracked a small grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Look, darlin’, I don’t have all the answers. But I know this—whatever Cap thinks he knows about you, he doesn’t know you like I do.”

Your heart softened at that, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I know.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I told you everything I remember about the other lives. There ain’t much left to figure out, but… if Cap knows somethin’ we don’t, we’ll get to the bottom of it. Together.”

You nodded against his chest, but the unease lingering in your stomach didn’t go away. “Okay.”

For now, you let the subject drop, content to stay wrapped in Logan’s arms. But you couldn’t help wondering—what exactly did Steve Rogers know about you? And why did it feel like the past was about to catch up to you in a way you weren’t prepared for?

---

The next day you walked into your lab, ready to decompress a little even if it meant doing some complex calculus. You opened the doors to your lab and saw Scott and Hank leading Tony and Bruce Banner around your lab.

Bruce Banner—scientific icon, world-renowned mind.

You hesitated, gripping the strap of your bag tighter, already feeling your cheeks flush. Anxiety stirred low in your chest, as though stepping closer would somehow make you too exposed, too scrutinized by these larger-than-life personalities.

Scott noticed you first, turning toward the door. “Y/N,” he said, his voice even but softer than usual. He must’ve picked up on your hesitation because his gaze softened just slightly.

Hank glanced over as well, waving you forward like this was no big deal. “Good timing,” he said warmly. “Come meet our guests.”

Oh, no. No, no, no.

You swallowed hard and stepped forward, managing to avoid tripping over your feet—a miracle, really. Tony had already launched into a monologue about something, but as the new arrival caught his attention, his eyes landed on you.

“Well, what do we have here?” Tony said, cocking an eyebrow. “Another genius in the house? Don’t tell me Stark Industries has competition hiding out in a mansion.”

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but the words tangled up and didn’t come.

Scott, likely sensing the rise of your internal panic, stepped closer, standing at your side. His hand brushed your shoulder, solid and reassuring, before it returned to his crossed-arm stance. “This is Dr. Y/N,” Scott said, his tone brisk but protective in that understated way of his. “She’s part of the team and handles all our physics work. You’ll want her opinion on anything advanced.”

You winced a little, feeling like Scott had just put a spotlight on you. “I, uh… Hi,” you managed, adjusting your glasses as you glanced at Bruce, trying not to think too much about how much smarter than you he probably was. “It’s nice to meet you.”

To your surprise, Bruce smiled—not in that awkward, condescending way you sometimes got, but a genuine, warm smile. “Nice to meet you, too, Doctor,” he said, his tone polite. “Hank mentioned your work. I’d love to see what you’re working on sometime.”

Your cheeks flamed. “Oh—um—yeah, sure. I mean, it’s not that interesting. Just… you know… physics.”

Tony snorted. “Oh, ‘just physics,’ she says. Humble, too. Let me guess: some casual light reading on quantum dynamics?”

You felt rooted to the spot, unsure of how to respond. Hank cleared his throat, stepping in smoothly. “Actually,” he said with an amused tone, “Y/N specializes in quantum field theory, but she’s been working on some breakthroughs in spatial-temporal fluctuations.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Spatial-temporal fluctuations? No kidding.”

Bruce adjusted his glasses. “That’s fascinating. I was actually reading a paper recently on the potential overlaps of that field with time-reversal symmetry.”

You blinked, your mind simultaneously thrilled and spinning. “That’s—well, that’s exactly what I’m looking into,” you said quickly before you could lose your nerve. “Though it’s still in early stages. Nothing like what you’ve done.”

Bruce tilted his head, interest flickering in his eyes. “Don’t sell yourself short. Maybe we can exchange notes later?”

“Oh,” you said, startled. “Yes. Absolutely.”

Tony gave a dramatic sigh, clapping his hands together. “Brilliant minds, bonding over impossible science. Warms my heart.” He glanced around the lab. “So, Specks, you’re not gonna, you know, shoot lasers outta your eyes, right? Or turn into… that.” Tony lazily gestured at Hank. “No offense.”

Hank let out a sigh, “none taken.”

You froze, unsure how to respond. The sudden shift in attention felt like a spotlight bearing down on you, and your cheeks warmed. Before you could stammer out an answer, Hank stepped in, his tone calm but firm.

“Y/N’s abilities are unique,” Hank said, resting a steady hand on your shoulder. It was a quiet gesture, but it helped ground you. “She can manipulate time. It’s not something she uses lightly.”

Bruce Banner tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “Time manipulation?” he asked, his voice gentle, more intrigued than intrusive. “That’s… incredible. I can only imagine the complexities.”

You adjusted your glasses, your hand fidgeting with the strap of your bag. “It’s, um… not as impressive as it sounds,” you said quietly, the words tumbling out before you could think them through. “It’s not like I can just—just rewind things or stop time completely. It’s more… nuanced. And honestly, I try not to use it if I don’t have to.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Not as impressive as it sounds? Manipulating time doesn’t exactly scream ‘humdrum.’ What, are you worried about messing up the space-time continuum or something?”

You hesitated, glancing down at your feet. “Something like that.”

Scott, who’d been quietly observing the exchange, stepped closer, his stance subtly protective. “Y/N’s powers are powerful, but she’s not reckless with them. It’s not exactly dinner table conversation.”

Bruce nodded in understanding. “I can appreciate that,” he said, his voice kind. “With abilities like that, caution is probably the smartest approach.”

Tony, however, wasn’t quite ready to drop it. “Still, that’s gotta be a lot of pressure,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “Knowing you’ve got all this power but not wanting to use it. I mean, if I could bend time, you’d better believe I’d—”

“That’s enough, Stark,” Scott cut in, his tone sharp enough to silence Tony. He shot you a quick glance, his expression softening. “You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to.”

You offered Scott a small, grateful smile, but the unease lingering in your chest didn’t fully dissipate. Bruce, perhaps sensing your discomfort, shifted the focus of the conversation.

“Regardless,” Bruce said, his tone thoughtful, “it sounds like you have a deep understanding of your abilities. And paired with your work in physics… well, it’s clear you’re contributing something remarkable here.”

You felt your shoulders relax just a little at his words. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice still shy but sincere.

Tony clapped his hands together, clearly ready to move on. “Alright, enough about bending the fabric of reality. Let’s get back to the fun stuff—labs, gadgets, all that good stuff. Specks, you’re the quantum genius here. What’s the coolest thing you’ve built?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, um… I don’t really build things. I mostly focus on theoretical models and equations.”

Tony feigned a look of disappointment. “No gadgets? No flashy inventions? What do you even do in here?”

Hank cleared his throat, fixing Tony with a look. “Y/N’s work is critical. Without her models, most of what we develop wouldn’t be possible. She’s the foundation.”

Bruce nodded in agreement. “Theory drives application,” he said. “And if you’re working on spatial-temporal fluctuations, you’re tackling some of the most challenging questions in physics. That’s impressive, no matter how you slice it.”

You bit your lip, feeling a small swell of pride despite your lingering nervousness. “Thanks,” you said quietly, your gaze flickering between Bruce and Hank.

Scott, always attuned to your emotions, gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re doing great,” he said under his breath, his voice so low only you could hear.

You shot him a grateful look, the tension in your chest easing just a little. As the conversation shifted back to lab equipment and theoretical possibilities, you let yourself take a small step back, content to observe for now.

---

You looked in the cupboard for your mug only to find nothing. You had even checked the dishwasher and sink, and it wasn’t in any of those spots.

Jean walked into the kitchen with a dramatic sigh, “I’m pretty sure that… guy—who I still can’t believe is actually Thor—crushed my thermos.”

You closed the cupboard door, “I think one of ‘em took my mug.”

The two of you heard footsteps outside the kitchen, watching Clint and Natasha walking with Ororo down the hall. Clint had your mug.

“Why are they still here?” You grumbled.

Jean let out a chuckle, “now your startin’ to sound like Logan.”

You scoffed lightly, crossing your arms as you leaned back against the counter. “I’m not that grumpy. Yet.”

Jean grinned and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of orange juice. “Give it time. You keep hanging out with him, and you’ll start growling at people too.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, adjusting your glasses. “Yeah, well, if Clint doesn’t give me back my mug, I might start sooner than expected.”

Jean poured herself a glass of juice, shaking her head in amusement. “You and that mug.”

“It’s my favorite mug!” you argued, throwing your hands up. “It’s the perfect size, the handle doesn’t get too hot, and it has the constellations on it. I’ve had it for years.”

“And now it’s Clint’s favorite mug,” Jean teased, sipping her juice.

Before you could retort, Logan walked into the kitchen. His boots thudded against the floor, and he gave a short nod to you and Jean. “Mornin’.”

Jean raised her glass in greeting, but you turned to Logan, still fuming. “Clint took my mug.”

Logan quirked an eyebrow, leaning against the doorway. “Want me to get it back?”

Jean snorted, clearly entertained. “What are you gonna do, Logan? Growl at him until he gives it up?”

Logan shot her a dry look. “Worked last time, didn’t it?”

You shook your head, biting back a smile. “It’s fine. I’ll get it later. Maybe.”

Logan’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his gruffness easing slightly. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said, brushing it off, though the thought of Clint sipping coffee from your mug still irked you. “Not worth starting a whole thing over.”

“Could be fun, though,” Logan muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Jean laughed and set her glass in the sink. “Well, this has been delightful, but I’ve got a Danger Room session to run. Try not to maim Clint over the mug, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises,” Logan said, earning a laugh from Jean as she left the kitchen.

Once it was just the two of you, Logan moved closer, grabbing a coffee mug from the cupboard—one of the generic ones everyone used. He glanced over at you as he poured his coffee. “You okay?”

You sighed, leaning back against the counter. “Yeah, just… tired, I guess. And maybe a little annoyed. It’s been a long week.”

Logan nodded, his expression thoughtful as he sipped his coffee. “Anything I can do?”

You smiled softly at the offer. Logan always had a knack for cutting through the noise and centering you without effort. “No, it’s fine. Thanks, though.”

Logan’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, that familiar softness appearing in the crinkle at the corners of his eyes. “Alright,” he said, his voice low. “But if Clint doesn’t give that mug back, you just say the word.”

You let out a small laugh, feeling the tension ease ever so slightly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two of you shared a brief moment of quiet, and then Logan took a step closer, his coffee steaming in his hands. “How’s the lab stuff goin’? That Banner guy giving you a hard time?”

You shook your head quickly, pushing your glasses further up your nose. “No, actually. He’s… nice. Really nice, actually.” You paused, then let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It’s just overwhelming, you know? People like him—and Stark—they’re so brilliant, and I can’t help but feel like I don’t measure up.”

Logan grunted, taking a sip of his coffee before leaning one hip against the counter. “You’re worried about not measurin’ up to Stark?” He arched a brow. “That guy’s got enough ego to make up for every flaw he’s got. Don’t let him get in your head.”

You smiled faintly at Logan’s bluntness. “It’s not him. It’s… me. My own head is the problem.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharp but kind. “Y/N, you’re probably the smartest person I’ve met—and I’ve met Banner and Stark. You need me to remind you again of the times you’ve bailed Hank out with your brain?”

The warmth in his tone brought a deeper flush to your cheeks, and you averted your gaze, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “That’s sweet of you to say, but—”

“But nothin’.” Logan’s voice was firm, though not unkind. “You know how many times you’ve pulled the X-Men out of a mess just by bein’ you? Hell, if it weren’t for you, none of us would even have the equipment that makes half the missions possible. You’re not just smart, darlin’; you’re vital.”

You blinked at him, warmth blooming in your chest at the way he looked at you—earnest, unwavering. “Thanks, Logan,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He tipped his head, his smirk more subdued now. “Anytime.”

this was 2012 (or the rest of it) and 2013!

and btw, 'girl i've always been' is underrated, it's one of my favorite's from guts spilled

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic #the avengers #i love you in every time #i love you always and forever

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twice-inamillion · 10 months ago

Text

The Company

Eaten Bunny

Smut (Defloration, first-time sex, deep penetration, orgasm, creampie, belly bulging, whining, rough sex, ass spanking, sex filming)

Chapter 14

1642 Words

(Nayeon offers her body to the CEO after saving her and her mother. As a grateful CEO, you take her offer and use her body, not realizing it is also Nayeon’s first time.)

You can't help but grin at your work; Nayeon is an utter mess. She randomly twitches from her last orgasm and is out of breath from the stimulation.

“Please, no more. My body hurts.”

“We're just getting started.”

She tries to lift her head and says, “What? It's not done yet?”

“Of course not; this was just an appetizer.”

Nayeon, with no energy, crashes back onto the couch and rethinks her offer.

Suddenly, she yells as you pick her up and carry her towards one of the rooms. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“The main event, obviously.”

“Wait, now?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me rest a bit.”

Nayeon stares at the wall, trying to muster up some energy as she tries to get over her last orgasm.

You're excited to fuck another girl, especially Nayeon. You remember the positive reviews she has gotten from many of the trainers, and getting a chance to fuck her this easily is a blessing.

You take off all your clothes and walk towards Nayeon who is laying on the bed, “Ready?”

She struggles to lift her head but does so with the little energy she has, “Wait, please.” You spread her legs open enough to get a full view of her swollen cunt.

With your cock in your right, you drop it on top of Nayeon's cunt and rub it against her lips. “Dang Nayeon, you have some nice tender lips.” You realize you won't need lube by how wet she is and coat your member with her nectar.

Nayeon watches as you press your cock in between her swollen lips, her heart begins to beat faster and faster as she realizes what's going to occur.

”You said you want to show your appreciation to me, right?” as you grab nayeon by her chin. She nods, “Yeah, I do.”

”Then show it to me.”

You climb on the bed and rest your body against the pillows. Nayeon notices your smug look and understands what you want her to do. She musters up the energy and climbs on top of you. She grabs your semi-limp cock with her large hands and begins to slowly stroke your cock.

Little by little, your cock wakes up from its nap and stands strong and proud, really to put in some work. Nayeon realizes that it might be too big for her to handle, but she knows she can’t go back, not after what you did for her and her mother.

She lifts herself up and hovers just a few millimeters away from your length. She looks directly into your eyes as she lowers her body into your cock.

You watch her reaction change as she splits herself open and tries to adjust herself to the first few inches when her hand splits, causing her to fall onto your cock in one go.

Nayeon screams in pain, her eyes watery as she takes your whole length. She tries to pull herself out, agonizing in pain, and sees your cock covered in a thin coat of blood. “Ahh, it hurts!”

You see Nayeon panic, squirming around, not knowing what to do. You grab her hand and say, “Nayeon, it’s okay. Look at me; it's going to be okay.”

Nayeon, who is still in pain, nods and grips onto your hand tightly. “I didn’t know you were a virgin. Thank you for giving your first time to me, now I’ll take it from here” and flip her over.

Now, in a mating press, you slowly begin to thrust inside of her newly deflowered cunt, trying to mold it into your shape. She holds your hand tightly and looks into each other’s eyes, “Oppa, it… it hurts so much. I can’t do it, I’m going to break.”

” It will only hurt for a bit longer; just bear it, okay?”

“Okay, I trust you.”

With your free remaining hand, you pull her in closer and increase the strength of your thrust. You try to get her adjusted to your length as quickly as possible, even if it means her suffering for a bit longer.

“Oppa, you’re breaking me; my insides feel like they are going to split open; please, I can’t.”

”Just a bit more; your body is just trying to get used to it, just hold on; just?”

Nayeon closes one eye and bites her lip, wanting to stop herself from screaming. She sees her belly bulge every time you thrust your cock inside of her, which scares her, not knowing if you’re going to break her.

On the other hand, you’re met with Nayeon’s tight walls. It’s trying to resist you as much as possible, which makes it painful for Nayeon, but you prefer it that way. The more you see her struggle, the more it turns you on.

“Fuck Nayeon, you’re so tight! It feels so good!”

“I feel good?”

”Yeah, I love the way you wrap yourself around my cock.”

”Ummm, then I don’t mind if you go harder.”

”Are you sure?”

”Yeah, I want you to feel good.”

”But it might hurt a bit more.”

”It’s okay; it doesn’t hurt as much now; I can take it.”

With Nayeon’s approval, you pull out your cock, covered in her reddish juices, and slap it against her cunt before putting it back inside.

“Oh fuck” yelps Nayeon when your cock reaches the end of her womb. She tries to mask her expression and just focuses on the way you smile every time you hit her womb.

You feel hotness building up in your core, and let Nayeon know you're about to cum. Surprised by your comment, she doesn’t know what to do and just says, “Oppa, cum if you want.”

“Then, I’ll cum inside of you.”

“Wait, inside…?”

“I’m going to fill your freshly fucked womb with my cum, so take it all!” You grab Nayeon’s hips and put your weight on her thighs, trying to go as deep as you can.

Nayeon feels a hot sensation of cum shooting inside of her, covering her untainted womb, “So full!”

“What do you think?”

”It’s so warm.”

Nayeon watches as you pull out your cock from her cunt and sees a large amount of cum ooze onto the sheets. Curious, she presses her stomach, making more of your batter come pouring out of her. Tired, she lies on the bed, staring at the ceiling and taking in what she just did.

It is then that she realizes what her mother has always mentioned before reluctantly letting her go training as an idol, “If you’re going to have sex, make sure you use protection.”

”I need to use the restroom,” and she makes her way towards the end of the bed, trying to get herself cleaned up. She then feels you grab her leg and says, “I’m not done yet.”

You grab her by the waist, push her down, and get behind her. “Who said you can go?”

“I just need to use the rest…” and isn’t able to complete her sentence. She then feels the tip of your cock press against her entrance, and you put your whole weight on her. She groans as she takes your length in one go, “Oppa, not so rough.”

”This is rough,” and give her a hard thrust, which makes her choke up from the sudden movement.

“Ah! Ahh… hmmm!”

Nayeon now enjoys the way your cock scrapes against her walls, even when it hits the back of her uterus. “Oppa, rougher… ahh.”

”Like this?” Slapping her ass. Nayeon yelps, “Ahh, that hurts!”

You slap her ass again, but with additional force, making her cheeks ripple. Nayeon bites onto the bedsheet as you continue to spank and fuck her from behind. “I’m going to make you into my toy, Nayeon; what do you say?”

There’s no response from Nayeon, and notice that she’s grabbing onto the bedsheets. If she wants to play it that way, you can do it too. You continue to slap her ass until it’s completely red. Nayeon can’t hold anymore; she’s at her limit and lets go of the bedding, “Okay, I’ll be your toy; just don’t slap my butt anymore; it hurts so much.”

”No, you didn’t answer when I asked you the first time,” and continue to slap her until you reach your peak once more. ”Tell me, where do you want me to cum?”

Nayeon, at first, is hesitant to respond but realizes that this might be the only chance to stop you from spanking her. She says, “Inside me.”

”Be more specific.”

“Please… please cum inside me.”

”Be specific.”

”In my cunt. Please cum inside me, my cunt you just deflowered. Breed me, please!”

”That’s my girl.”

Just like that, you give her one last thrust and fill her womb full with cum. The amount of cum you pump inside of her, causing her belly to bulge as if she was pregnant.

Nayeon, now exhausted, becomes limp, laying on the bed like a used onahole. You get up, head to the drawer, and get your camera to photograph your latest work. “Nayeon, smile.”

Nayeon gives a faint smile as you take multiple pictures with the bed and her lower region covered in cum.

“I’m going to take a shower; you can join if you want.”

”Hmm… okay.”

She eventually gets up, goes to the drawer, and sees your phone light up with a message that says, “Video successfully uploaded to the cloud name, XIDOLS, file: “IM NAYEON_01,” realizing she’s not the only one.

#twice smut #kpop smut #male reader #nayeon smut #twice nayeon #girl idol smut #reader x idol #kpop idol smut #idol smut #smut reader #TM smut #the company series #the company

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hannahbisssssss · 6 months ago

Text

Dinner and Diatribes (Nandor the Relentless x fem!Reader)

Author's Note: When asked to write this piece, I wanted to make it special for those waiting so long for its arrival. This will be split into two parts. I currently have part one (the majority of the work) done. However, chapter two is strictly NSFW and I'm separating both parts in case that doesn't interest you. I should be done with part two by tonight, so keep an eye out for it.

Warnings: Overprotective brother Guillermo, horny Nandor (duh), and an innocent reader. Take that as you will. Blood and violence (also duh)

Word count: 11,000+

Requested by @binks1004

This will also be posted on AO3 by tonight!

I sigh softly as I finish putting the last touches on my homework. Another assignment done. I look at the clock that resides next to my desk. 12:30 in the morning: shit… I should have been out of the dorms ages ago. I promised Guillermo that I would go to sleep earlier tonight because I wanted to make my way over to his house in the morning. Well, it’s not like I haven’t gotten less sleep before and still survived.

Suddenly, my phone rings, and I jump in surprise. I check the caller ID… Guillermo. Shit. I hesitantly pick up the phone after letting it ring a couple times.

“Hello?” My tentative voice rings out.

“You should be asleep.” Guillermo’s voice sounds disappointed but not surprised. I almost hear the eye roll in his voice.

“Why would you call me if you didn’t know I was asleep or not? Who knows, maybe you just woke me up.” There’s a hint of snarkiness in my voice. As Guillermo’s younger sister, I felt occasionally obligated to annoy him.

“You were last active on Instagram 15 minutes ago.” Guillermo’s ‘I gotcha’ voice is laid on thick.

“…Whoops?” He laughs on the other line.

“Whoops is right. You need to go to bed, Y/N.” I feel the exasperation start to rise within me.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I had homework to get done before winter break. Is that so wrong of me to want to spend my full time and attention with you when I’m there at your house?” I decide to guilt trip him. I hear Guillermo sigh before I hear heavy footsteps on the line.

“Guillermo? Who are you speaking to?” The voice is distant, but I can swear I hear the essence of a Middle Eastern accent. The phone is clearly covered by one of Guillermo’s sweaters, as I can’t hear much of the conversation after that. I think I pick up the words ‘master,’ ‘sister,’ and ‘visiting.’ By the time Guillermo uncovers the phone, he responds almost sheepishly.

“Sorry. My roommate.” I am hit with the remembrance that Guillermo has four other housemates that he lives with.

“Oh, right… who was that?” My curiosity is piqued now.

“Nandor.” Guillermo says curtly.

“Nandor.” I repeat, testing the name on my tongue. “Is he nice?” Guillermo sighs.

“Sometimes.” I laugh.

“I’m sure we’ll get along just fine, then.” I try to assure him.

“Sure. Y/N, please go to sleep before you end up driving over here like an exhausted zombie.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll go to sleep, but don’t be shocked when you see I’m active on Instagram for the next 15 minutes: I have a routine, you know?” I hear Guillermo stifle a chuckle.

“Yeah, okay.”

“You know you love me.” I tease.

“Of course I do. That doesn’t mean you can’t be insufferable.” He teases back.

“That’s the fun of having a sibling, I think.” Guillermo doesn’t hide his laughter this time.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” I can hear the chiding in his voice.

“Goodnight, Guillermo.” I hang up the phone and make my way over to my bed. I’m a lot more tired than I previously thought, as I plug in my phone within five minutes of my nightly doom scroll routine.

The drive over to Guillermo’s house is nothing special. It’s cold, with some snow falling, but nothing I can’t handle. As I made my way over the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge, I feel myself getting a little nervous. What if Guillermo’s roommates don’t like me? What if I end up biting off more than I can chew with this trip? I mean, I’m staying for an entire month. Certainly his roommates would get annoyed with me after staying with them for so long.

Before I can panic myself any longer, I realize that I’m already at his doorstep. I raise my hand to knock on the door, but Guillermo is already there.

“Y/N.” He says fondly. I smile and let my hand drop.

“Hi, Guillermo.” We smile and hug and get all the niceties out of the way.

“Did you end up sleeping well?”

“After scrolling on Instagram for approximately five minutes, yeah.”

“I noticed you weren’t active super long. I was hoping that meant you were asleep and not on that one website I don’t know about.”

“Character.AI?” I say with a laugh. He laughs too.

“Yeah, that one. Who’s your current fictional character of choice?”

“I’m embarrassed to say…” I fidget with my hands for a moment.

“Now you have to tell me.”

“I most certainly do not.”

As I walk in the house, I am met with an ornately-decorated foyer. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling looks quite beautiful, and I can’t help but stare in awe.

“Like it?” Guillermo looks at me taking in the scenery.

“Holy crap, you must spend a fortune living here.” He laughs at this response.

“If only you knew…” I give him an odd look but decide to drop it.

“Well, it’s 9:30 in the morning… What would you like to do?” I ask him with a pleasant smile.

“Did you eat breakfast?” I shake my head.

“Let’s do that first, that way you’ll be prepared for any activities I have set up for you today.” Guillermo says with a smile.

“Ooh, what kind of activities are we talking?”

“I’ll show you around Staten Island, and that’ll give me time to debrief you on each of my roommates.”

“Yeah, where are they? You’d think they’d be up by now.” Guillermo suddenly starts to fidget with his hands.

“They’re kind of nocturnal.” I look bewildered at this statement. “They work at the railroad, so they have weird hours.”

“But I thought… I thought you also worked at the railroad.” Guillermo looks stunned and a little frightened by my statement. “I-I do…” Guillermo looks down at his hands.

“Guillermo. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re telling a lie. Did you get fired or something?” He perks up at my statement.

“Fired, yup! I’m just trying to look for new work, so I’ve been keeping busy with the upkeep of this house. Please, don’t tell mom.” I nod in solidarity.

“Of course I won’t. Your secret’s safe with me.” Guillermo smiles and visibly relaxes. Suddenly, another figure walks in the room. He’s bald, wearing a vest, and carrying a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Who’s this?” I perk up as he makes his way out of the kitchen. Guillermo shoots him a warning look. For what reason, I can’t be too sure.

“That’s Colin Robinson.” Colin raises his cup as a friendly gesture.

“Hello… You must be Y/N. Guillermo told us you were coming. You’re in for a lot of fun.” I smile at Colin, as he seems friendly enough.

“Yes! I’m Y/N, nice to meet you. I sure hope I don’t become a nuisance too quickly.” He smirks at my statement.

“Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem.” Guillermo shoots Colin another warning glare and for a moment, I could swear that Colin’s eyes brightened. Guillermo quickly takes my hand and leads me out of the house.

“We’ll be back later, Colin.” I look at Guillermo, confused.

“What about breakfast?” He tugs at my arm again.

“I’ll buy you breakfast, okay?” Guillermo closes and locks the door behind him, rolling his eyes at the thought of Colin.

“He seemed nice.” I try to give him a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, well ‘seeming’ isn’t everything. Colin Robinson is one of the most annoying creatures on this planet.” I laugh a little at this statement.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Breakfast?” Guillermo smiles back at me.

“Breakfast.”

The two of us take Guillermo’s car throughout Staten Island. A diner, a mall, a work building, everything that sees me throughout the day sees a smile on my face. The minutes turned to hours and I suddenly feel the sisterly urge to connect with Guillermo.

“I’ve missed seeing you.” I break the silence with my voice, knowing the words would ring true. Guillermo nearly trips in the shoe store we’re currently walking through.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Is his simple reply.

“I just don’t think you’d be able to understand the depth of my statement. I really fucked things up.” Guillermo stops this time, looking at me as I speak, as if seeing me for the first time in his life.

I don’t come from a functional family. I grew up Catholic, fatherless, and forced to grow up fast. The weight I bear is not something easily shaken. My mother loved me dearly, but was always worried about Guillermo. He was 7 years older than me. He didn’t have many friends growing up on account of his rather odd hobbies. By association, when I finally reached the age he was when he first started getting bullied, I was left friendless and alone.

Life as an emotionally-mature person in an emotionally-immature body often led to grief beyond the imaginable. I knew as I grew up that there were things I would never experience. Teenage romance, of course, was the least-established of my facilities. The days boys would hit on me were over… Nobody wanted to be friends with the girl whose brother believed in vampires. What if it runs in the family?

“I really messed up. I should have been reaching out more. College fucked me up and I think I was still holding a–” The words spill forth before I can even think. I only recently got in touch with Guillermo a few months back.

“You were never supposed to be taking care of me. I was supposed to be doing that for you. I should have listened to your feelings; spoken about your hurt.” Guillermo’s words nearly tear at my heart. There are moments like these with one’s family members that help one realize just how connected blood really makes us. Seconds turn to minutes turn to us sitting on the floor and crying together while a Shoe Carnival employee checks in on us.

The day passes a lot more calmly than earlier. I’m not sure exactly how many times I am warned about each of his roommates.

“It really sounds like you don’t enjoy living with them.” Guillermo grimaces at my words as if struck.

“I do enjoy living with them, but they are a particular bunch. I know you can be, too. I just don’t want anyone butting heads with you; they’d do that even if I were to specifically ask.” My face softens at my brother’s words.

“It’s only one month. It’ll be alright.”

When we make our way back to Guillermo’s house, the lights are on and I can see shadow figures moving around inside, albeit with some paper in the way.

“Guillermo?” I ask quietly.

“Yes?” He follows my gaze before going silent.

“What’s the paper for?”

“They’re very private people. Who would I be to judge?” Guillermo nearly chokes on his answer.

“Do you think it was a good idea to invite me to spend my winter break with you?” I feel Guillermo’s warm hands clasp around my freezing left one.

“I would do anything to ensure your comfortability here. They’ll behave, I promise.” He shuts the car off and makes his way out of the vehicle, motioning for me to do the same. We make our way to the porch and Guillermo takes the jingling keys out of his pocket. As he opens the door, I peek into the foyer. Nothing. Nobody.

“Where did they go?” My voice asks softly. Guillermo gives me a smile that could be perceived as tentative.

“Probably the fancy room. The curtain is shut.” I immediately shrink into myself at his words.

“They know I’m here. I should leave–” I begin frantically.

“No, Y/N, please stay. We can go and introduce you.”

“Memo, please. I know you’ve lived with them longer than since we lost contact with one another. I don’t want them to think to ask you why we stopped speaking.” There’s a rustling heard behind the curtain as it’s pulled aside. Standing on the other side of the curtain is a black-haired woman with green highlights. She is dressed in Victorian garb and looks superb.

“I take it you are Y/N.” She says in her Greecian lilt. I give her a bright smile; years of acting makes switching from emotions a thing to do with ease.

“Yes, I am. Hi! Are you Nadja?” She smiles at me and I immediately take notice of her sharp canine teeth. Odd.

“The one and only. Come, come, you must meet the others since Gizmo won’t be introducing you himself.” Guillermo rolls his eyes and makes his way to the fancy room with a huff. Inside the room are two men. One sits on the couch with a pipe in his mouth, occasionally blowing out puffs of smoke. He shoots me a suave smile and I recognize his sharpened canines as well. I mentally take note of that as I look at him.

“My darling, who did you bring for us to meet?” His voice is strained and clearly fake. He knows exactly who I am. “This is Y/N, Gizmo’s beautiful sister who he never speaks of.” My face flushes a deep red and I feel Guillermo preen behind me. There is a throat clearing heard from the corner of the room. Out steps a figure that dwarfs the others. He is tall and imposing and every bit of the name I know him to have: Nandor.

“Be nice to Guillermo, Nadja. You do not want to scare off his sister.” He steps closer and I feel his steps, both graceful and lumbering, get closer and closer. He is wearing a furred cape with some other cultural garb that does not seem from the United States in the slightest. He makes his way over to me with his broad chest leading the rest of his body. I almost pass out as I look up at him, feeling the air in my throat constrict.

“Nandor.” He says in his baritone, holding a hand out for me. “Nandor the Relentless.” My mouth opens and closes like a fish before I spit out my own name.

“Relentless? Why’s that.” He doesn’t need to answer, as I’m sure I’d believe any answer he gives me.

“Y/N. You have a very lovely name, as well as a lovely curiosity about you.” He replies.

“Thank you, that’s quite kind of you.” I recognize now that I still haven’t taken his hand and I do, trying to shake it frantically before realizing how immovable he is. His steady hand lifts my hand to his lips as he keeps eye-contact with me. Normally, I’d explode from the attention, but I immediately clock his fangs.

“Is something wrong?” Guillermo’s voice chimes in and I realize I must have been staring. I blink a couple of times and come back to reality, noticing Nandor’s lips are still on my hand. Guillermo takes notice as well and swats at my arm. I pull it back in surprise and Nandor’s deep voice chuckles behind me.

“Careful with this one. She’s fragile.” Nandor’s voice is both teasing and deadly serious, as if sending a warning to his roommates. Guillermo tugs my arm and leads me out of the room. I wave at Nandor and he gives me a smirk I can only describe as fond yet… hungry. After Guillermo drags me out of the room, I immediately round on him.

“You live with a bunch of cosplayers?” Guillermo shrinks from my anger.

“They’re quite eccentric people when they’re not working at the railroad.”

“Speaking of, why the fuck are they here playing dress-up when they should be at work?”

“It’s a Saturday evening.” I deflate with Guillermo’s response. He’s right, of course.

“Okay. I’m off to bed.” Guillermo gives me an apologetic smile and as I turn away, I realize I have absolutely no idea where I’m going.

“Upstairs to the right.”

“Thank you.” I respond curtly before making my way up the stairs. When I make it to the top of the stairs and take the first right, I close the door behind me and take a deep breath. After my brain runs silent for a few moments, I decide to use the bathroom and brush my teeth. Of course, that meant exiting my bedroom, and I did not want to do that just yet. I wanted to take everything in. I look at my bed frame, an ornate metal one with a stained glass lamp on the nightstand next to it. Jesus, they took this whole cosplaying thing very seriously.

Guillermo’s POV

“Are you fucking kidding me? I asked you guys to do one thing: act normal! How hard is that? You were humans once, too!” Guillermo’s whisper shouting is quieted by Nandor, who places his hand on Guillermo’s shoulder.

“Laszlo, Nadja, leave us.” Nandor waves a dismissive hand at them.

“Fuck off.” Nadja’s voice is the first to pipe in. Laszlo is quick to recover as he stands and grabs his wife’s shoulders.

“Nadja, how about you and I go to our room and… discuss this new development in the house.” Both Guillermo and Nandor bristle at his statement for the very same reason. Laszlo drags Nadja out of the room before either of them could chide the married couple. When they finally leave, Nandor looks down at Guillermo.

“I would like to court her.” He says blatantly. Guillermo feels as if he had just been electrocuted.

“Fuck no.” Guillermo is quick to recover from his immediate shock.

“Guillermo, she is a beautiful, unwed woman of childbearing age. Would you enjoy watching your sister turn into a spinster?”

“Not any more than I’d enjoy watching her turn into your concubine.” Nandor looks as if he could snap his bodyguard’s neck. “You will not be courting my sister, and I’m so fucking serious. She’s a Van Helsing as well – she could kill you without a second thought.” Nandor perks up at this statement.

“I do enjoy a challenge.” Nandor’s voice is smug and steady. Guillermo storms out of the room, making his way to his room under the stairs.

Y/N's POV

The house is cold and quiet. The fire in the living room does not create enough heat to reach where I am. Guillermo set up the room nicely, with a few extra blankets that will not go unused. I smile to myself as I make my way out of the room to head to the bathroom. Unfortunately, I smack into the chest of the person waiting outside my door. Nandor. He gives me a smirk, one of the fangs popping out of his lip.

“Hello, little Y/N.” I nearly shiver at his voice, but maintain my composure.

“Hi Nandor. Sorry, I should have been paying more attention.” He gives me a friendly smile.

“You are quite alright. Do not feel bad. I was standing right outside your door, so I should be the one apologizing.” Nandor’s hands are clasped behind his back, making him look quite serious and almost otherworldly.

“Yes. What were you doing outside my door anyway?” I look skeptical of him.

“I wanted to apologize for causing any strife between your brother and you.” Now that was an answer I was not expecting. I swallow and try my best to not look phased.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Nandor chuckles at my words, a deep and smooth sound.

“Guillermo clearly cares deeply for you. I wouldn’t want to make a bad first impression.” Nandor’s voice is genuine, without a hint of any of the confident bravado he carried earlier.

“I know he cares for me. Sorry, I’m incredibly tired and have to get ready for bed.” I gently scoot him out of the way and make it to the bathroom without looking back. I lock the door behind me, standing before the mirror in front of me. It is a humbling sight: I look as though the exhaustion I’ve felt since I was 12 was surfacing all at once. Realizing my face was getting red with that discovery, I covered my face to cry.

What I could not see beyond the door was a stunned Nandor, able to hear my soft cries. He did nothing, and yet here I am, angrier than ever. I stayed in the bathroom for a long while, knowing I could not go out and face him again.

Nandor’s POV

As he stares at the bathroom door, all he can feel is completely helpless about the situation. Had he said something wrong? What did he do? All he said was that your brother cared about you. Was that so wrong? Nandor awkwardly shuffles to his bedroom, closing the door to drown out your cries. He could hear them slow and eventually stop, listening to your feet shuffle back to the room across his. He wants to try again, to reach out and tap your door; to ask you what’s wrong. He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He tries to ignore the feelings your emotions stirred within him as he listens to your breathing even out as you fall asleep.

Next Morning - Y/N’s POV

I wake up the next morning feeling completely out of it. As I opened my eyes, I felt all the emotions slam into me as they did last night. Fuck. Had I really gotten that emotional around Nandor? I knew that my emotions had gotten the better of me, and I wanted to apologize to him. He couldn’t have known that my and Guillermo’s relationship was a sore spot. Of course he wouldn’t have known that: Guillermo has always liked to keep his shame hidden. I sit up in my bed and groan, trying to catch my bearings. His door is right across from mine… Maybe I could sneak over and speak with him.

Why I felt so drawn to Nandor, I couldn’t explain. Maybe it’s because he’s incredibly handsome, or maybe it’s due to the fact that he has no clue about me. A clean slate. That’s certainly what I felt I deserved at this moment.

I stand and make my way over to my door, opening it and running into someone for the second time in under 12 hours. I’m surprised to see that it’s Guillermo.

“I’m so sorry,” are the first words that leave his mouth. I look at him skeptically. “Nandor told me you were upset last night. I should have known.” My face heats up in embarrassment.

“It’s no big deal, really. I was just upset–”

“Stop. Please stop lying on my behalf. I’m your older brother, and I fucked up. I haven’t told you the whole truth.” That stops me dead in my tracks.

“What are you talking about?” Guillermo takes my hand and looks at me with an emotion on his face I can’t quite read.

“I know I’ve been obsessed with vampires since I was a kid, and I hoped above hope that they were real. So real that I went looking to find them. I found a job application when I was 19 that seemed suspicious enough, so I showed up here: to this house,” I shake my head in confusion as Guillermo continues. “I was met by Nandor at the front door, who took me in for an interview. The job detailed the upkeep of the house and what being a servant–a familiar would be like.”

“A familiar? What the hell are you talking about?” Guillermo takes my hand and continues.

“I haven’t been working at the railroad for all of these years… I’ve been working for Nandor, Nadja, Laszlo, and Colin Robinson. I’m a familiar. They’re vampires.” My face turns blank for the first few seconds after he said the words I desperately did not want to hear.

“Are you serious?” I can see Guillermo’s face fall. “After all these years, you still don’t care about how your actions affect other people. Do you know what it was like? Taking care of mom when all she wanted to do was see her son. Getting bullied at school for being your sister?” I wrench my hand from Guillermo’s grasp. “I get that us getting back on speaking terms is new and exciting because I’ve missed you, but don’t fuck with me about this,” Guillermo quickly grabs my hand again and drags me to Nandor’s room.

“I can prove it. Look,” Guillermo opens the door to Nandor’s room and there, laying in the middle of the room, is a large coffin made from some of the finest wood I’d ever seen.

“What the actual hell,” my voice is quiet but certainly not calm. “What is this?”

“This is where Nandor sleeps. He sleeps during the day because he’s a vampire, not because he works night shifts. If he touches the sunlight, it hurts him. And if he steps fully into the sun, it will kill him. That’s why the windows are boarded up; that’s why this house looks so haunted: because it is. It’s haunted by the vampires who have lived in it for over 100 years,” I cover my face again and pull my hand from Guillermo’s grasp.

“You’ve actually been galavanting around with vampires for over a decade?” I am dangerously calm.

“I don’t know if ‘galavanting’ is the right word, but–”

“Well, what would you call it? Leaving your family behind to live with vampires. Some fantastical fucking dream you got to have,” I turn away from Nandor’s coffin, feeling scorned.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I can’t take back those years that I left you and mamá, but I want to make up for it.”

“You left us! For years, you left us! And what am I supposed to do? Be fine that you were gone for so long, only to be living your dream,” I sit against the wall, sliding to the floor. “While I was stuck taking care of mamá, who wanted nothing more than to have her son back. Do you know what that’s like?” Guillermo takes a step closer to me, slowly sitting next to me.

“No. I don’t. But I want to. It’s not fair that I was gone, but I want to have you back in my life–”

“Did you tell mamá?” Guillermo looks ashamed and it’s all the answer I need. “Why would you ever trust me with this secret?”

“Because I can’t try to satisfy you with lies. I’ve done that for long enough,” Guillermo looks at me with such sincerity it almost hurts. I sigh, feeling a headache coming on.

“Is there anything else I should know?” I look at him from between my fingers.

“...We are descendants of the Van Helsing family,” I immediately groan and put my head back in my hands.

“What does that entail?” Guillermo takes a breath as he prepares to explain.

“It means that you’re probably unnaturally good at spotting vampires. I noticed you noticing their teeth last night,” I look up at Guillermo again.

“You did?” Guillermo laughs at my question.

“Maybe it’s why I was so good and seeking vampires out in the first place,” a small smile appears on my face at his statement.

“Guillermo De La Cruz: always alone, traversing between two worlds,” I give him a smile as I take my hands off my face.

“Not alone anymore,” he replies with an openness I had not yet seen from him.

“Not anymore, no,” Guillermo wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him.

“Yes, yes, that’s nice. Now Guillermo, please flee from my room with your sister so I may slumber,” comes a voice from the coffin. I almost forgot we were in Nandor’s room. I laugh at his words.

“Shit, sorry Nandor,” Guillermo says as he stands, pulling me to my feet.

“Yeah, we’ll go,” I say as I start to leave the room. Guillermo closes the door behind him and looks at me a moment before we both start laughing.

“Whoops,” Guillermo says first.

“I guess I didn’t think vampires could be light sleepers,” I reply.

“They most certainly can. Breakfast?” Guillermo asks.

“Yeah, just give me a few minutes to do my morning routine. I need to brush the heart-to-heart out of my teeth,” Guillermo laughs and makes his way down the stairs.

“See you in a few!”

After taking the time to do my morning routine, I make my way down the staircase to the kitchen. Before I can get there, I’m intercepted by Colin Robinson, who is, once again, holding a cup of coffee and wearing another vest. I shuffle nervously on my feet, now come to the realization that I am surrounded by vampires.

“What makes you so different?” I blurt before I can stop myself. Colin looks bewildered. “Good morning to you, too,” he mutters.

“I’m sorry. Good morning. What I meant was, if you’re a vampire like everyone else, why can you be awake in the daytime?” Colin takes a sip of his coffee.

“Your first assumption was incorrect: I am not like everyone else. I’m an energy vampire: a daywalker,” I nod at his explanation, though I’m still confused. “I feed off of people’s negative energy. Energy vampires are the most common of vampires, and I’m sure you’ve met some before meeting me.”

“Are you draining me right now?” I ask cautiously. Colin seems to find this amusing.

“No, no. I do it when you least expect it.” His words hang in the air for a moment before Guillermo peaks out of the kitchen.

“Leave her alone, Colin,” Colin’s eyes glow blue at Guillermo’s words. So his eyes were glowing yesterday.

“Go and enjoy breakfast. I sure have enjoyed mine,” Colin smirks before walking away. I make my way to the kitchen and prepare for the rest of the day.

The rest of the day is rather mundane. Guillermo told me I should start getting used to taking naps in the daytime if I wanted to spend time with the vampires. When asking him if he was going to take a nap, he merely laughed.

“The job of a vampire’s bodyguard is never-ending,” he responded.

“I thought you were a familiar,” I eye him.

“I was, until the vampires got attacked by other vampires,” Guillermo responds as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. I guess, for him, it has been his normal.

“Should I be worried?”

“Not with that Van Helsing blood in you,” Guillermo nudged me. “Now get some rest.” So I did. The day was spent in a mostly-dreamless slumber as I tried to preserve my energy for the nighttime. Being a college student, changing my sleep schedule was certainly not hard. I woke up to my alarm and checked the time, seven o’clock. I rub my eyes and sit up, seeing the sun had already set below the sky. Being wintertime, it gets dark a lot earlier than I’d like. Maybe vampires enjoyed the winter more for that same reason.

While pondering existential questions about vampirism, I peek out my door to make sure I won’t run into anyone else. As I look across the hallway, I see Nandor’s door is already open. I make my way over to his room, trying to be as quiet as possible, as if sneaking into somewhere I shouldn’t be.

I look inside his door and see his coffin opened. As I survey the rest of the room, I do not find him anywhere.

“It is rude to try and sneak up on a vampire such as myself,” I jump in surprise and turn around. Nandor stares at me, a smirk playing at his lips.

“I wasn’t–I didn’t–” He chuckles in that same deep baritone.

“You’re not too sneaky for a Van Helsing,” I stand a little taller and cross my arms.

“Van Helsing or not, I’m still a De La Cruz,” Nandor raises an eyebrow at me.

“I can see the resemblance between your brother and you. Come, would you like to sit?” Nandor gestures to a couple of chairs in his room. “The others are probably out hunting for the night,” I feel my blood go cold at his words. Nandor chuckles again before speaking, “Don’t worry – I ate yesterday in preparation for your arrival,” I feel his eyes on me as I sit in the chair. He moves to sit next to me.

“Do you… kill people?”

“Yes,” his response is quick and almost cold.

“Do you enjoy it?” Nandor sighs.

“Only sometimes. Those are boring questions. I hear them too often. Let’s talk about something more interesting,” Nandor feigns a yawn which elicits a smile from me.

“How old are you?” Nandor peers down at me from the corner of his eye, smiling.

“I am over seven hundred years old. How old are you?” I suddenly feel much more shy and self-conscious. “Oh, come now, don’t tell me you don’t want to answer any of my questions.”

“I’m 23,” I respond quickly, as if challenging his words.

“But a sprout amongst the trees,” Nandor’s words flow from him. “Y/N, I like your name.”

“Thank you… It’s a family name. Where does ‘Nandor’ originate?” Nandor smiles proudly.

“From Hungary. It’s a version of ‘Ferdinand,’” Nandor says the name with a hint of distaste.

“You’re Hungarian?” Nandor immediately shakes his head.

“No. I’m from Al Quolnidar. It used to be part of the Ottoman Empire, but now would be southern Iran.”

“I feel like I’m getting a history lesson,” I say with a laugh.

“Do you enjoy learning?” Nandor asks, blinking slowly at me. I pause for a moment, wondering how to respond.

“Yes, I think I do,” Nandor’s chest seems to puff up proudly, like a bird showing off his feathers.

“Then I shall give you history lessons whenever you please.”

And he does. Days pass in the house and I always await Nandor’s rising in the night. I spend some of my time getting to know everyone in the house, but Nandor, of course, steals my attention most of the time. We spend long evenings and nights getting to know one another. Yet, it feels as though my life is not as exciting as his. No matter how many times I state this fear, Nandor is quick to respond.

“Just because I’m ancient doesn’t mean I’m more interesting.” We agree to disagree on this front. During the nights we are not speaking to one another, Guillermo catches us stealing glances at one another in the kitchen or the library. He, of course, knows we both have feelings for one another, but tries to inform me of how stupid and dangerous that is. I hush him up every time, telling him to let me have my fun, as there’s no possible way Nandor feels the same way about me. Guillermo shuts up every time, going back to whatever he’s doing. During one of our nightly talks, Nandor begins to open up a bit more about his love life.

“I had 37 husbands and wives,” I nearly spit out my drink at the number.

“Shit, I realize this is probably insensitive, but how did you keep up with all of them?” Nandor laughs and waves off my question.

“I loved 35 of them, so it was relatively easy. The other two were political marriages: women meant to bear my children to carry on my name,” I try not to blush at the thought.

“That must have been nice–having so many partners to spend time with,” I try to spin the situation.

“Oh no, I spent most of my time with my concubines when I was on the battlefield,” I, once again, try not to choke on my drink.

“Did you ever think it was enough?” The words fall from my lips before I can reign them in. Nandor looks at me, surprised by my question.

“No… I suppose I didn’t,” I frown at his response.

“Do you ever think about settling down?” The dam has opened.

“I’m a vampire. All I ever think about is settling down for eternity. I lived enough lives by being a conqueror as a human,” Nandor looks at his glass, half-empty with AB+ blood.

“Seven hundred years is a long time to be alive. I feel like I’ve lived through enough as a 23-year-old,” Nandor gives me a look.

“You’re still young,” he says as a matter-of-fact statement. “Let the world open up to you.”

“I think I have had enough of the world opening up to me,” I begin to swirl the wine in my glass.

“What do you mean?” Nandor’s curiosity is piqued.

“Helping out a single mom since you were 12 is not exactly a job for sheltered individuals,” I say with a sigh. “My mom needed someone to help out around the house after Guillermo left. I was that someone. It wasn’t all that bad, but it was hard.”

Nandor is suddenly hit with the crushing realization that he inadvertently did this to you. He took away Guillermo, he made it nearly impossible for Guillermo to reach out and speak to his family. Nandor takes a sip from his glass. If his face could blush, it would certainly be burning from his shame right now.

“I’m sorry,” is his only reply. I give him a smile, one that he recognizes as a friendly but tired look.

“Don’t be. It shaped me into who I am. I like me,” I say simply.

“I hope you don’t mind if I were to ask you about your father?” Nandor immediately wishes he could take back his words once he watches my face fall.

“I don’t remember much. He was a piece of crap who bullied our mother for a living. When he finally decided to get lost, I couldn’t help but feel abandoned. My mom loved me as best as she could, but that doesn’t mean it was what I needed,” I say before taking another sip of my wine. “Blood is thick, though. I am forever appreciative that I got this opportunity to reunite with Guillermo, even if that means having my worldview shattered,” I say with a laugh.

“How do you do it?” Nandor asks as he studies my face.

“How do I do what?”

“How do you speak about such things with a smile on your face? You should be crying.”

“I weep when I’m alone,” I tell him as I look into my glass again. “It’s not very becoming of me to cry in front of people I don’t know that well, now is it?” Nandor also looks into his glass before looking back up at me.

“I would like to know you,” Nandor says those words simply, as if it wasn’t a declaration.

“I don’t think you would. I’m broken–” I start.

“I don’t know why you’ve convinced yourself you’re not worth knowing. You’re allowed to be angry with me, you know? I took your brother away for years, causing you to have to raise yourself. I would understand completely if you chose to hate me,” Nandor’s words spill forth like a waterfall.

“I don’t hate you,” my face is burning.

“Why?” Nandor’s question is exasperated.

“I’m not sure, but I don’t. You’ve given me every chance in the world to speak freely, but I don’t feel like hating you. It does not change the past, nor does it heal the future. I think just being in your presence now is a comfort. One I should not take for granted,” Nandor is stunned into silence.

“Can I kiss you?” I am stunned by this question. I stand abruptly before getting ready to leave.

“I should get going,” I close the door before he has the chance to respond.

Nandor’s POV

By the end of the night, Nandor’s room looks as if a tornado blew through it. Once he heard you leave the house, he began to destroy everything within it. He threw his glass of blood at the wall, watching it shatter with a cruel satisfaction. Of course you would not reciprocate. You’re too full of life, too wonderful, too good for him. Nandor roars in anger at each of these thoughts, destroying some of the furniture in his room. All that remains untouched are his coffin and the paintings of himself on the wall: all a cruel reminder of the warlord he was. The violent, cruel, evil dictator who took lives without care. Of course you felt the need to run away for the night. He made you uncomfortable, and he couldn’t blame you for feeling that way.

At some point in the night, there is a knock at his door. Nandor rounds on Guillermo, hissing as he stares at his bodyguard.

“Leave me,” Nandor’s words are cold and angry. But Guillermo does not leave.

“What happened?” His question brings forth a thousand more thoughts in Nandor’s head, who clutches it as if it is going to explode.

“She left. I scared her away,” Nandor’s voice cracks from emotion, and he curses himself for it, finding a book on his nightstand and ripping it apart.

“What? How?” Nandor storms over to Guillermo, towering above him intimidatingly.

“Leave. Me.”

“This is my sister we’re talking about. My sister, who is alone in the streets of Staten Island because of you. Now, tell me what happened,” Guillermo’s temper almost matches Nandor’s. Nandor lets out a frustrated huff before explaining what happened.

“She was never angry with me. Never angry at me, the monster who kept her brother away from her for 14 years. She held no bitterness towards me about it,” Nandor turns around to hide his shame. “None, until of course, when I ruined it by asking to kiss her,” Guillermo falls silent with these words.

“We have to go find her. She couldn’t have gotten far–” Guillermo begins, trying to ignore the feelings stirring within him.

“We don’t have to do anything. You will go and find her. I have done enough for tonight,” Nandor hisses, throwing a glare at Guillermo over his shoulder. There’s a pause between them before Guillermo glares back at Nandor.

“Fine. Next time, stay away from my sister,” the door slams behind him and Nandor jumps, quickly returning to destroying his room.

Guillermo’s POV

She couldn’t have gotten far. That’s the only thing he can think as he goes out to look for you. You couldn’t have gone too far. Guillermo, met with constant lefts and rights, decides to follow a path he had taken you on during one of your many daily adventures through Staten Island. Left, left, right, straight for a few miles… You couldn’t have gone far. He tries to think of all the possible places you could have gone.

You took your car, of course. You left in your car to do whatever you wanted, and he had no chance to stop it. Suddenly, he remembers the pang of disappointment he felt in his stomach when you said you enjoyed going to bars. He took you to a bar a couple days ago. It had food, greasy food, but it also had drinks. That’s probably where you went. He tries to stuff down the thought of you drunk driving. You wouldn’t.

Guillermo feels an immense sense of relief when he sees your car outside the bar. He opens the doors, a sense of peace washing over him. That is, until he realizes you aren’t there. Guillermo’s panic rises within him again as he looks around. He asks the bartender if he saw you – he hadn’t. You were sending him on a wild goose chase. Guillermo clutches his head in frustration, trying to think of where else you could be. That is, of course, until he hears you scream.

Y/N’s POV

I wanted to go to the bar for the shitty food. I knew it would make me feel much better after running away from Nandor. I had been mentally kicking myself the entire night over Nandor’s question. Why did I leave? I cover my face as I sit at the front sidewalk of the bar.

Commitment issues. It was always commitment issues. I felt so embarrassed for leaving Nandor hanging, but I was terrified when he asked to kiss me. I wanted to, of course, but I had never… I mean, what would come next? Marriage? Sex? The last thought sends a shiver through me. He’s a vampire. I’m just a blip in his long existence: an impermanent thing. I cover my face and groan to get myself free of those thoughts. Standing up to go into the bar, I reach the front door before I feel my arm grabbed by some stranger, dragging me away with a hand over my mouth.

I’m dragged into an alley, a knife pressed against my back. Yeah, this would happen to me.

“Don’t scream,” the voice is scarily calm. “I’m just robbing you. This will go as easily as you want it to,” he speaks the words as if they’re molasses stuck in his teeth. As he removes his hand from my mouth, I take a deep breath.

“I don’t have a lot of money on me,” I responded brokenly.

“Well, it seems we have a problem, don’t we?”

“Please. Let me go. I’ll give you the keys to my car,” I am pleading now.

“You think I want some busted car from a college student?” The knife begins to dig into my skin. I gasp and the man shushes me before whispering in my ear.

“I told you this would go as easily as you wanted it to. It seems you don’t care too much,” I shake my head and try to reason with him.

“Please, I won’t tell anyone about this. I’ll go quietly. I’ll give you everything I have, it’s just not much,” the man removes the knife from my back and brings it to my cheek. He slowly drags it down the side of my face, certainly drawing blood. I cry out, beginning to scream for help. After a brief moment, I feel the weight lifted from behind me as the man is dragged off of me.

“Don’t touch her,” I hear a familiar voice hiss behind me. I scoot away from Nandor and the man he is now holding off the ground. His eyes are a deep red; red as blood. With that thought, I raise a hand to my cheek, feeling the warm liquid running down my face. I catch Nandor watching me touch the blood on my cheek. He hisses at the man, and it’s a deep and menacing sound. “Look away,” his voice is deep and commanding.

I tuck my head and cover my face. The moment I do, I hear a disgusting squelching sound, followed by a gasp from the man. I’m sure he would have screamed if he could, but I would guess Nandor went for the throat.

“Y/N, we have to go,” I uncover my face to find Guillermo staring at me, frantically trying to pull me to my feet. In a split-second decision, I turn to look at Nandor, who is crouched on the ground like a predator, face deep into the man’s skin. His eyes are on mine the moment I look upon him, and I can feel his relief as he looks at me. Guillermo drags me out of the alley, holding my hand the entire way.

“Stop looking!” Guillermo commands as he pulls me out of Nandor’s view.

“He’s not going to hurt me–”

“You’re bleeding,” Guillermo interrupts me. “I don’t want to tempt an apex predator, thank you very much.” He opens the passenger door and helps me sit down before going to the driver’s side. Guillermo speeds off in his car, headed back in the direction of the house. When I looked behind the car, all I could see was Nandor standing in the middle of the road, blood covering his face.

We got back home after driving for a few minutes in silence. When Guillermo parks the car, he looks over at me.

“Are you okay?” I cover my face and look away.

“Yes,” I responded curtly.

“No you’re not,” Guillermo puts a hand on my shoulder to comfort me, rubbing it softly. “It’s okay to not feel okay after something like that. I remember the first time I saw a human die at the hands of vampires. It’s scary. You shouldn’t have had to see that,” he speaks so gently.

“I’m okay, really. I mean, yes it was scary… I guess I’m just glad Nandor got there in time.” Guillermo nods.

“Me too. You can thank him when he’s not all bloodlusted,” Guillermo almost reads my mind.

“I’ll just clean up and it’ll be alright–” I begin.

“No. He’s already got the scent of your blood. He’s going to be touchy for the rest of the night. We need to get you patched up and to bed,” Guillermo cuts me off. “That is a talk that can happen another day.” I finally relent, nodding in agreement.

“Okay… Can I go get cleaned up now?” Guillermo turns the car off and walks beside me the entire way, keeping an eye out for Nandor. “I’ll be fine, you know?” He scoffs at my words.

“You’re as stubborn as him – I’ll give you that,” he mutters under his breath. When we make it in the house, Guillermo helps clean me up. Luckily, the other vampires were nowhere to be seen, though Guillermo was sure they could smell my blood. “I’m going to put a cross on your door tonight. Give you a couple stakes…”

“Would that really be necessary?” Guillermo shoots me a look.

“I’m not taking any risks. He’s dangerous and I will not have my sister getting bitten by a vampire,” he continued to dab a washcloth on the wound on my cheek.

“It’s going to be a huge, ugly scar, isn’t it?” There’s a hint of despair in my voice. Guillermo sighs.

“I don’t know… Probably… But not ugly! Let’s… not worry about that right now,” he tries to filter his words, but it’s really no use. He begins to use alcohol prep pads on my skin, causing me to hiss through my teeth.

“Ow, that really hurts,” Guillermo’s face turns sympathetic.

“You’re very strong. I don’t think it needs stitches: it wasn’t that deep. Can I put gauze on your cheek?” I nod.

“Here we go. It’ll be okay. You will be staying in your room tonight,” Guillermo’s words leave no room for argument. I groan at him, rolling my eyes.

“Fine,” Guillermo nods as he finishes disinfecting my face and putting gauze over it.

“You’ll bounce back quickly. Something tells me you always do,” he gives me a wink and helps me stand before pushing me into my room. Guillermo places a stake on my bedside table, then goes to hang a cross on the front of the door.

“Is all of this really necessary?” My question is exasperated. Guillermo shoots me a glare.

“Is keeping you safe from a deadly vampire necessary? Oh geez, let’s think about that,” I roll my eyes again at his words.

“Okay, thank you. Good night, Guillermo,” I sigh and place the hand over my gauze. Guillermo’s eyes soften and he makes his way to sit on my bed next to me.

“You’ll be okay, I promise. I just want to be careful, you know?” I nod along to Guillermo’s words.

“Thanks. I know you’re just looking out for me. I appreciate it,” I say to him sincerely.

“Just rest. The morning will be here before you know it,” he leans over and gives me a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too… Good night,” I say to him. Guillermo smiles and makes his way to my door, closing it behind him.

I wish I could say that I tried falling asleep, but I did not. I stayed awake for what felt like hours, tossing and turning in my bed. All I could think about was Nandor standing in the middle of the road, watching me drive away with Guillermo. There’s a level of guilt that falls on my shoulders as I think about that look he gave me. I hold my cheek, beginning to cry softly at the thought of my face being marred for the rest of my life.

After crying for a long enough time to feel dehydrated afterwards, I hear the loud flapping of wings and a squeak outside my door. There’s a poof sound, followed shortly by a hissing as Nandor approaches my door.

“Fucking guy,” Nandor hissed at the cross on my door. I stand, tiptoeing over to the door before cracking it open. Before me was Nandor, cleaned up and in the same outfit I saw him in earlier. His face immediately softened once he saw me. “Y/N… Are you okay?” He reaches a hand out and I flinch, a little afraid from what I saw earlier.

“I’m alright, I promise. You… shouldn’t be here,” Nandor scoffs at my words.

“What did your brother tell you?” He spits the words.

“He said you would be… touchy. I don’t want to irritate you,” I whisper, trying to make sure Guillermo wouldn’t hear us. Nandor’s face widens into a smirk.

“Oh no, my dear, wrong touchy,” I blush in surprise and he takes this as an opportunity to push past me, closing the door swiftly behind him as he carries me towards my bed.

“Nandor! Please,” I protest as he lays me down on my bed, quickly following to curl up behind me.

“Please what, darling? Use your words,” he nuzzles against my face, nose rubbing against the gauze on my cheek.

“I don’t– I can’t…” The words are lost on my lips and Nandor shushes me.

“I know, darling. I can smell it on you,” he nuzzles against my cheek again, pressing a kiss to the gauze on my face. “A virgin, are we? I smelled it in your blood,” Nandor whispers as he puts an arm around me. I blush deeply in surprise that he was able to guess so easily.

“I grew up very Catholic,” are the only words that leave my mouth. Nandor chuckles darkly.

“I don’t care. It doesn’t matter why, it matters that you are,” he kisses my cheek again. I shake my head again, trying in futility to deny.

“I ran away after you asked to kiss me,” Nandor stops suddenly, his grip loosening.

“I will leave you if you wish it,” he continues to pull away.

“No! I mean… you don’t have to,” I try to cover the desperation in my voice. Nandor chuckles again and leans in against me.

“You smell amazing,” Nandor continues to nuzzle against my cheek.

“I shouldn’t have run away. I’m sorry,” I feel the remorse surge within me.

“Don’t be. I got a free meal of it,” he teases gently before nosing against the pulse point on my neck.

“But I am sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. I should have told you that I’m afraid to get close to people, that it was never your fault–” Nandor nips my neck gently, causing the words to die in my throat.

“Hush, Y/N. Stop apologizing. I don’t want you wasting your breath on something I already understand,” he leans down and kisses my head. I flip to my other side, facing Nandor and getting a good look at him for the first time since the attack. His eyes are still a faint red, pupils blown wide with some primal feeling deep within him. I reach a hand up and push a strand of his hair behind his ear. I hear a low groan rise from his throat.

“What does it feel like?” I ask suddenly. Nandor pulls away to look at me.

“What does what feel like?”

“Drinking blood. Is it… I don’t know… enjoyable?” Nandor smirks as he looks at me.

“I wouldn’t be able to explain it. Drinking blood is like nothing I ever did when I was a human. It feels so powerful, like something out of a movie,” Nandor gets lost in thought, staring out of the paper-covered window.

“What does it feel like for a human?” Nandor looks at me a moment, before answering.

“When I was turned, it was not a pleasant experience. I’m assuming that was due to the violence of the one turning me, but I’ve heard some humans find it to be a pleasant experience. Why?” Nandor asks the question he already knows the answer to.

“I… would you drink from me?” I look up at him shyly. Nandor’s breath hitches as he looks at me.

“You would want that?” I nod, the words dying in my chest.

“Would you remember me?” Nandor looks perplexed by the question.

“I would know you through the rain and the snow, through every storm that appears in the night. Just because your blood calls to me doesn’t mean I will answer in violence,” Nandor leans down and presses a kiss to my undamaged cheek.

“You make it sound so easy,” I whisper to him.

“For some, it really is.”

“Is it for you?” Nandor hesitates.

“No, but I will not forget you,” I lean forward and hug Nandor against me.

“You saved my life once. I owe you, at the very least,” Nandor leans forward and captures my lips in a kiss. It is a deep and passionate kiss that conveys the days of yearning between us. I could imagine myself getting lost in that kind of yearning forever. The kind of yearning that leaves one seeking answers from the beginning of the first interaction.

Nandor’s tongue presses against my lips, licking off any balm I put on there a few hours before. I open my mouth to him, breath getting stolen as he takes a greedy gulp of my air.

“The second you view this as a transactionary agreement,” he starts as he pulls away from my lips, “you’ll forget how much I want to get to know you. I don’t want you to forget that,” he says as he presses a kiss to my nose. He pushes my head to the side gently, sniffing my pulse point and taking a moment to just sit there.

“You’re so sweet,” I whisper to him.

“Sweet. That’s not a word that’s been used to address me before,” He laughs and presses a kiss to my neck. I giggle softly as he continues to press kisses to my neck. “I like those noises. You sound happy. I only want to hear you happy,” Nandor mutters against my neck.

“I hope that not always being happy is not a let-down,” Nandor chuckles again, nipping my neck softly.

“Don’t speak as if you’re some consolation prize. I don’t care. I like you,” he mumbles against my skin.

“Are you going to bite me now?” I ask, trying to deflect some of the attention he was putting towards me. Nandor nuzzles against my neck again, dragging his teeth along my neck.

“The second you say it back, I will. I like you,” Nandor says, pulling away to look me in my eyes. I blush deeply, trying to maintain eye-contact with him.

“I like you, too,” I say as Nandor leans down and captures my lips in another kiss.

“That’s more like it,” he says, bending down and pressing a kiss to my jaw. He leans down and kisses against my neck, growling against my skin. “So warm, so soft, so sweet,” he sinks his fangs into my skin. It feels like a short needle prick and I jump a little in surprise. As I jump, Nandor’s hold on me tightens to keep me in place. I whimper a little as I feel him begin to take pulls of my blood.

“That… feels really nice,” I mutter to myself, feeling as if I had entered a trance. Nandor groans as he continues to drink deeply from my neck. The sounds are lewd and wanton as my body curls into him. It feels as though a thousand hands are holding me against him, making me feel safe and protected in his arms.

He takes a couple more pulls of my blood before pulling away, licking the puncture wounds on my neck. He kisses the marks gently, groaning from deep in the back of his throat.

“You taste divine,” he breathes the words as if they are keeping him alive.

“That felt really nice,” I mutter, still in a daze. Nandor chuckles and holds my face in his hand.

“I’m sure it did. I made sure to be gentle with you,” he says as he kisses the spot where he bit again. There are moments like these that help one realize just how connected blood really makes us. It feels as if we are bonded in some way, and I can tell Nandor is feeling it, too. “I’m sure you can feel how intense things are right now. Just take a deep breath, okay?” He holds eye-contact with me and takes a deep breath, trying to get me to follow suit. When I do, he smiles and kisses my cheek. “Good girl,” he whispers. My eyebrows knit together with his nickname.

“Oh, you liked that, did you, darling?” He kisses my lips quickly before saying, “my good girl,” once again.

4am - Nandor’s POV

Nandor woke up with you in his arms, feeling the weight and security you offered him. However, after a moment of peace, he feels something pressed against his back.

“Get up,” Guillermo’s voice is a deep warning.

“Guillermo–” Nandor tries to speak.

“Get up. I will not ask again,” he hisses again, holding the stake against Nandor’s back. Nandor looks over as you begin to stir.

“You wouldn’t want to wake her up, would you?” Nandor’s voice is a deep purr.

“Did you bite her?” Guillermo already knows the answer.

“Only because she asked,” Nandor nearly taunts Guillermo, who grabs Nandor and pulls him out of the bed.

“I told you to leave my sister alone,” Guillermo growls at Nandor, who holds his hands up in defense.

“She invited me in,” Guillermo frowns at Nandor’s words. When you stir, they both look over in surprise.

“Did anyone think about asking me what I wanted?” You stare at the two of them, glaring at Guillermo. “Yes, I invited him in. Yes, I realize that may sound dumb to you. No, I do not regret it,” Guillermo bristles at your words.

“I’m just making sure you’re safe,” his voice is a strangled mix of frustrated and calm.

“Unhand Nandor, dude,” you say to your brother, who begrudgingly lets him go. Guillermo storms out of the room, causing you to want to go after him.

“Don’t. He needs a minute alone,” Nandor starts.

“You don’t know what he needs. I need to apologize to him.” You get up and make your way out of the room, heading down the stairs to find Guillermo fuming in the kitchen.

Guillermo’s POV

“I’m sorry,” are all the words you can muster. He hears you from behind him and he turns around, glaring.

“I told you to leave it alone for the night, and what did you do? Not that. Certainly not what your brother asks you to do,” you frown.

“It’s fine, he was fine! Nothing happened,” at your words, Guillermo’s eyes flicker to the puncture wounds on your neck. She flushes in embarrassment and quickly covers up the marks. “Nothing beyond that.”

“I don’t care what happened between the two of you, I want Nandor to be good to my sister. I don’t want him to lose interest the second you lose your novelty to him.”

“I don’t think I’m some novelty to him. I think he likes me–” Guillermo holds a hand up to quiet his sister.

“I need to speak with Nandor,” he says with a biting edge to his tone.

“Not with that stake, you don’t,” Y/N says with a glare thrown his way. Guillermo huffs, standing up from the table and walking out of the kitchen without his stake. As he stomps his way up the stairs, he sees Nandor peer from out of his room.

“You, me, talk. Now,” Nandor opens the door for him, allowing him entry.

“Guillermo!” Nandor says with a friendly lilt in his voice, trying to appeal to Guillermo’s normally good-natured attitude. “What is cracking, friend? How has your day been going?” Guillermo looks at Nandor’s room, still in complete disarray from the night before. He turns at Nandor and looks up at him.

“When you said you wanted to court my sister, I could have killed you. When I saw you holding my sister this morning, I almost killed you,” Nandor shrinks from Guillermo’s words. But, he sighs. “Be good to her. That’s not a lot to ask for, is it?” Nandor immediately shakes his head.

“I will be the best to her. Only the best she deserves,” Guillermo nods, thinking over Nandor’s words. He huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“If you so much as break her heart, I’ll put a stake through yours,” Guillermo threatens. Nandor crosses his fingers over his heart.

“Scout’s honor,” he bares his teeth in a little smile at his bodyguard. Nandor nearly jumps for joy as he makes his way out of the room to find you. When he sees you at the bottom of the stairs, Nandor grabs you around your waist and spins you around, kissing your bandaged cheek again.

Y/N's POV

“Well, that went well…” I say with a laugh as Nandor brings me closer to kiss my cheek.

“It did. Better than I could have ever imagined, my morning star,” I blush at his nickname, which elicits a satisfied noise from Nandor. “You like my little nicknames?” Nandor leans in and kisses my lips once again with a surprising amount of gentle energy. He dips me once my feet touch the floor, breaking apart only to look at me with the same reverence as yesterday.

“Yes, I could get used to the nicknames,” Nandor smiles brightly, his fangs bared.

“Anything for you, little one,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss me again.

#what we do in the shadows #wwdits #nandor the relentless #nandor #nandor x reader #nandor the relentless x reader #guillermo de la cruz #y/n #x reader #wwdits x reader #what we do in the shadows x reader #hurt/comfort

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bluesidez · 11 months ago

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GymRat!Miguel Part 9.2 | full chapter without breaks on AO3

content warning: more fluff, more laughs, a little bit of insecurity from Miguel and reader, underage drinking (all of the characters are aged 18-20 so by USA standards, that's underaged. but college kids will be college kids. and so will high school graduates.), a mention of an edible like once, Hobie is here! (fr this time), Pavitr too, even more jealous Miguel, 18+ so MNDI, wet wet relations, fellatio, cunnilingus, Miguel is a munch (his fantasies are unraveling finally), cum play if you squint, partially public indecency???, I think that's it

word count: 9.3k, halfway proofread (I split it really weirdly so I apologize for that lol)

Some of the links used in this part are just to give you an idea of what's going on! Enjoy! 🩵

Prev (Part 9.1) | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who texts Tyler while you’re in the shower.

Dad…Tyler:

“She really loved it. Thank you so much for helping me out with this, Dad.”

“Any time, son! I’m glad everything went well! I can have my people send over the video form of the animation if you would like.”

“Sure, I can have it on hand.”

“And I take it, you like the yacht?”

“It’s extremely nice! Captain Barrett is pretty cool.”

“Don’t tell him you said that or it’ll go to that funny mustache.”

“Ok 😭”

“I did have a question though.”

“Ask away.”

“What did Kron do to his other boat?”

“What didn’t he do to that boat? He had too many friends on that thing all with a mix of substances I could never dream of combining. Their parents had to come drag them out lest the police get involved. I’ve never helped Kron with any event or party since then. He hasn’t earned it and he embarrassed me greatly.”

“Would you be more comfortable if we held off on the drinks?”

“See son, the difference between you and Kron is that you understand the legal ramifications of doing something so idiotic as having illegal items on a property that isn’t yours as a minor. You also have integrity and respect, something that Kron has lost sight of. I trust that neither you nor your friends will do anything too drastic.”

“Yeah, there’s no crazy stuff happening this weekend.”

“I believe it.”

“Get back to your girlfriend now. Thank you for checking up on your old man. Tell her I said hello.”

“For sure. Good night.”

“Good night!”

GymRat!Miguel who opens his arms up to you as you come out of the bathroom. You hurried to lay in his arms, skin warm from your shower.

You snuggle up under his chin, “Today was really fun.”

“Yeah?” he rubs your head slowly.

“Mm hm. Now, we should sleep.”

A yawn racks through Miguel’s body, the day of driving settling in his bones.

You keep your ear on his chest. The steady tempo of his heart and his breaths lulling you to sleep.

GymRat!Miguel who is still asleep by the time you wake up. You both ended up at opposite ends of the giant bed with just your legs intertwining.

You look over to Miguel and watch his chest rise and fall, his snores crescendoing at each breath.

You lay your head back on the pillow, eyes tracing the shape of his face in this morning light. The water was calm, giving the boat a slight rock. Some seagulls flew by, their sounds fading in and out.

You scoot closer to get a better look, your hand lightly following the line of his face.

His eyes flutter open at your touch, a brown sea welcoming you.

“G’morning,” his voice is terribly deep like this. The timbre shoots straight to your core.

“Morning. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you whisper.

Miguel moves to lay his head on your chest, taking a deep breath. “It’s fine. The sight made me feel like I went to heaven.”

He pulled you closer by the waist, “Ten more minutes?”

“Rest up all you need, bear-bear.”

GymRat!Miguel who is just as excited as Gabriel when he gets to the deck that morning. The agenda was swimming with the dolphins before everyone else got here.

Miguel and Gabriel were practically buzzing in their matching wetsuits. Dana snuck in a video laughing at the twin looks on their faces.

GymRat!Miguel who sneaks glances at your form on the way to the dolphin center. You’re leaning over the edge of the smaller boat, the wind against your face. The wetsuit was doing wonders for the curve of your figure.

GymRat!Miguel who ends up going into a nerd session about dolphins with Gabriel. Both of them are spitting out dolphin facts at the speed of light.

“I just think that if you were to be any dolphin, it’s so obvious that you would be an orca.”

“But why, though? Because I’m big? That’s a new low, even for you, Gabri.”

“No, it’s because you’re mixed, obviously. Killer whale aka orca aka dolphin. Duh, Miguelito.”

“Don’t ‘duh’ me because that doesn’t even make sense. Orcas are still classified as dolphins even though they look like whales.”

“Just like you-”

“I’m going to smack you off the side of this boat if you finish that sentence.”

“Resulting to violence just like a killer whale, what a shame.”

“You’re so annoying. Orcas are smart, they speak different languages based on their pod, and the name was actually ‘whale killers,’ not ‘killer whales.’ That would make me an orca, but I would not be one because I would never take care of my family but abandon my children.”

“A lot of male dolphins abandon their families. A lot of them hang out with the bros and come back.”

“Female dolphins can do the hard work of carrying babies from ten to eighteen months, so enlighten me, Gabri. What are the male dolphins doing with the bros?”

Gabriel squinted his eyes and put his finger up weakly, “This is a trick question.”

“No it’s not! Don’t you know the answer?” Miguel put his hands out, as if waiting for a physical object to be presented.

“I do know the answer, which is why I don’t want to give you the satisfaction.”

“Well, now I want to know because you two nerds wouldn’t shut up about bottlenose dolphins just five minutes ago,” Dana scoffs as she takes off her shades, the morning sun too much for her.

“That’s not the same energy you had last night when I-”

“No one wants to hear that.”

“Shut up, Miguel,” Gabriel snaps back. “They take care of other dolphin babies. And sometimes become friends with benefits with their homies.”

Dana makes a disgusted face, “And you’re defending that? Wow. So when I have your kid you’re going to leave me and go do fuck all with Pavitr?”

“No, Dana, I would never do that! We discussed this! Miguel is going to study seahorses, make me a safe mutation, and I’ll carry them for you!”

“I don’t even study genetics so I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“So you wouldn’t carry her babies?” Gabriel gestures towards you in a panic.

Miguel looks towards you at the front of the boat, watching the water go by.

He thought of you as a mom, carrying his kid, holding their hand in the park, picking decor for the nursery.

He thought of you under him, taking everything he could give you and more. You screaming his name as the bed creaks loud enough to fill the hallway.

“I would, but that’s not the question right now.”

“Why did it take you so long to answer that?” Gabriel’s tone was high.

“Oh my god, he was thinking of getting her pregnant,” Dana says in horror.

“Oh, so I have to listen to your escapades, but I can’t even daydream in silence?”

GymRat!Miguel who listens intently to the staff. No harm shall come to any dolphin on his behalf.

GymRat!Miguel who makes friends with one of the cute dolphins. Her name is Dotty because of the few spots she has on her body.

She immediately gravitates towards Miguel. Her blowhole squeals constantly whenever Miguel talks to her.

“Well I think Dotty is in love!” the instructor yells from across the enclosed water.

GymRat!Miguel who laughs at Dana who keeps getting splashed on by the baby dolphins.

GymRat!Miguel who looks so cute with his nose touching Dotty’s rostrum. They’re spinning in circles with Dotty clicking away like a cat purring.

GymRat!Miguel who watches you interact with one of the bigger dolphins whose name is Mon.

“Mon and Dotty are a couple, but he’s a little sad today because Dotty isn't giving him any attention,” the instructor says with a giant pout on her face.

Even Mon’s clicks sounded sad and Miguel didn’t know how that was possible.

Mon places his chin on your shoulder and you’re immediately in love, rubbing his body and consoling him and his broken heart.

“It’s ok, Mon. You can hang out with me,” you say in a sweet voice. Mon’s fins squeezed you even tighter.

A sweater, some random guys, Dana, Blake, and now a dolphin. Miguel can’t win.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Mon click and spin happily when you feed him fish for doing a trick.

“That was so good, Monie!” you pat his head, and he leans into your hands.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks Dotty and Mon are a bit like you and him. They’re twirling in the water together, rubbing their bodies close.

GymRat!Miguel who sits with you on the boat ride back, watching the dolphins race with the boat halfway to the yacht.

GymRat!Miguel whose eyebrows raise when he sees one of your friends as you guys step off the boat.

“Hobie!” you squeal, running to hug the lanky figure.

“My girl! How have you been, love?” he asks, a deep London accent lining his words.

Love?

“I’m so happy you made it! How’s the apprenticeship? Any new techniques to share?”

“A lot more than techniques, if you know what I mean?” Hobie leaned on you as he snickered away.

Miguel might pop a fuse.

GymRat!Miguel who lingers by as you chat away with Hobie. The two of you are catching up for a while and Miguel wants to walk back to the room with you so you can help him take off this tight wetsuit.

He’s lightly kicking at a puddle with his arms crossed when you call his name.

“This is my boyfriend, Miguel,” you say, coming up to him and wrapping an arm around his.

“He’s a big one, innit?” Hobie says, holding his hand out. “Hobie Brown.”

Miguel shook it with a sturdy hand, “Miguel O’Hara. Nice to meet you.”

“How long have you known this firecracker for?” Hobie gestured to you with a smile.

“It’ll be a year once August hits. The best ten months of my life, honestly,” Miguel says, leaning down to kiss your temple.

“She’s got you wrapped ‘round her finger, yeah?” Hobie smirked at the love drunk look on Miguel’s face. “Yeah, you’re a goner. That’s just how she is. One encounter and it’s hard to let go.”

Hobie went to pick up his one backpack, a master at light travel from how much he’s moving.

“Don’t let me stop yous two from partying. See ya in an hour, love,” Hobie said walking away.

You look up at Miguel, “The best ten months?”

“Yep. Love?”

“It’s a British thing. He’s friendly!”

“Hm.”

“And definitely demisexual.”

“Hmph.”

“You’re very territorial.”

“For good reason.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes it to the boardwalk after he’s changed to greet their friends and guide them to the yacht.

There’s a lot of you, especially from Gabriel and Dana’s graduating class. Miguel greets everyone warmly.

It feels good to unite his old friends and newer friends together.

GymRat!Miguel who makes a plan to be the best at every activity on the agenda today. Yeah, he wanted to have fun, but for some reason, he felt like he had something to prove.

He walks back out to the top deck to see Hobie laying out on the flat slats under the shade. His arms are crossed and his shades are hiding his full expression.

From here, Miguel can hear Blake chatting it up with some of the girls that are hanging out near the on-deck pool. He looks over the edge and sees him grinning from ear to ear as the girls giggle. He clicks his teeth at the scene.

“Big Migs, c’mere for a sec, will ya?” Hobie said.

“He’s a bit chatty, that one. An overachiever if I’ve ever seen it.”

On second thought, Miguel might like Hobie a lot.

“All morning, he’s been spitting nothing but rubbish. Going on and on about the boat and the city and his socials. Nothing of substance, just straight air.”

Miguel snickered, “It feels like that’s all he’s got going for himself. His daddy’s boat, his daddy’s money, and his face.”

Miguel recounts the events from last afternoon. How he lacked respect for not only him but for you and your personal space.

“Not gonna lie, I’d smash his head in,” Hobie replied calmly.

Miguel let out a hearty laugh, “I wanted to and honestly, I could, but there are several circumstances stopping me. Such as the fact that we’re on his dad’s property.”

“But deep it, when’s the next time you’ll need to be on this thing?”

Miguel is about to respond in agreement when you round the corner from the stairs.

“There you two are!”

You smile at the two of them, “Are you guys getting along? Has Hobie convinced you to join him on some scheme across the country?”

Miguel took a deep breath before responding. He knew what outfits you brought with you, a lot of them matched his own, but it was still like new whenever you put them on.

He didn’t have enough time in the world to cherish your beauty.

“They’re not schemes, baby, they’re elaborate plans,” Miguel responds.

“Man like, Migs!” Hobie hops up and drags his arm around Miguel’s shoulders.

You shake your head with a warm smile on your face, laughing at Hobie’s antics.

“And you look stunning. Though, I’m not too sure if it’s fit for hoverboarding.”

“That’s because I’m jet skiing and shaking ass, Hobie. You guys can have fun flipping in the air.”

“Right on, then. Migs and I have important business to attend to.”

Miguel nods, “Extremely important.”

You eyed them both, “Uh huh.” They left in a controlled frenzy, Hobie pulling his wicks up with a giant band and Miguel cracking his neck.

You didn’t even want to know.

GymRat!Miguel who is a bit peeved that Blake has to give the water hoverboard demonstration. He’s staying up there longer than necessary, grabbing girls to balance them in the middle of his board while he flips them around.

You’re standing next to Miguel during it all, waiting for Miguel’s turn so you can get a video.

“Hey!” Blake yells out in your direction. “Wanna take it for a spin?”

You shake your head and yell back, “No, I’m good!”

“Just three minutes! Don’t be scared! I won’t drop you.”

“No thanks,” you bite back, voice irritated.

Blake smiles with a hand on his hip, ready to convince you, when Hobie pipes up, “The lady said no. Can we move on?”

Blake’s face cracked a bit as he told one of the crew members to kill the power in the waterboard.

“What is up with him?” you mumble to yourself.

“I think he likes you,” Pavitr remarked. “He wouldn’t stop asking Gabriel questions about you.”

“He’s really pushing it,” Miguel scoffed. Not only was he being overly flirty to every girl on board, he was adamant about getting your attention. “No wonder he gets along with Kron.”

You sported a twisted lip as you watched him strap up one of Gabriel’s friends. “I don’t know. Even if I was single, he’s a bit too…tiny. Communal.”

The laugh that left Miguel wiped the scowl right off of his face.

GymRat!Miguel who gets the hang of the hoverboard after one try. You’re recording him with a big smile on your face as he tries to spell “love” in the air.

GymRat!Miguel who dies laughing at Gabriel’s horrible attempts at staying in the air. His body keeps shaking like a baby deer and he’s steady yelling in garbled Spanish.

By the time his turn is over, Miguel is laid out on the boardwalk with tears down his face.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Miguel,” Gabriel cries out.

Miguel just rolls and laughs some more.

GymRat!Miguel who watches you expertly drive a jet ski from the edge of the yacht. You’re shouting with one arm in the air as you race Dana and some of her friends.

Miguel leans his head on his hand as he watches you zoom across the ocean. Your skin is glowing, your smile is sparkling, and your laugh is bright.

GymRat!Miguel whose bubble of thoughts involving you, him, the water, some fruit, and a floatie is popped when Blake’s voice pierces through.

“She’s pretty good at that.”

“Yep.” Maybe if Miguel ignored him enough, he’d go away.

“Looks like a dream, too.”

“Are you dumb or something?” Miguel turns his body, gripping the rail to not get in Blake’s face, but extending his height to cower over him.

“Woah,” Blake holds his hands up. “It was a compliment, dude, chill out. You’re not mad at me for finding her beautiful, are you?”

“That’s not what the fuck you’re doing and you know it.”

Blake makes a confused face, laughing off Miguel’s statement, “Kron said you guys were open.”

“Does it look like we’re fucking open?”

“Well, at first-”

“Keep talking and you’ll end up just like him. Knocked out. Do you want that?” Miguel edged closer to him. “Huh?”

Blake bristles, ready to defend himself when his head is knocked to the side.

He looks next to him to see a gaggle of girls all with waterballoons and nerf guns. They yell at him to come on and pick a side.

Blake scrambles to join them.

Miguel is about to follow when Hobie sweeps in front of him, “Cool it.”

GymRat!Miguel who almost takes an edible from Hobie but decides against it.

“The offer is open all weekend.”

“Noted.”

GymRat!Miguel who gets roped into playing some games to start off the night, one of which is Never Have I Ever with shots.

It started off innocently with things like peeing in a pool and cheating on a test to which everyone looked in shock at Miguel when he put a finger down.

“I’m smart but if there’s a group effort to get the right answers, I’m not going to say no.”

Then it went left field and personal with things like threesomes, drunkenly fighting with others, and streaking.

“Never have I ever…received head from a partner!”

A few of the guys put a finger down, groaning out and snickering as they had to take another shot.

Miguel was trying not to dwell on how many experiences he lacked compared to the group, a lot of them younger than him.

He rubbed his tongue across his teeth. He didn’t want to show his irritation on his face.

Looking across the circle, he could see Gabriel’s eyes get wide, staring off beside you.

Miguel followed his line of sight landing on you with a finger down and a shot in your hand.

What the fuck.

Who the fuck beat him to it? Where the fuck did it happen? When the fuck did it happen? How the fuck did he not know?

He’s ready for the game to be over.

“Miguel is putting in work!” one guy pushes his elbow against Miguel’s side, laughing and patting his shoulders.

Well, if people think he did it, it’s not so bad.

“Oh my god, girl, how was it?” Dana’s friend asked you.

Miguel tried his best not to scream bloody murder.

“It was,” you pause, looking up to ponder. “It was something! Not particularly fun or good. My ex wasn’t the best at listening so he just poked at me. I faked everything that night.”

Miguel smirked. There were no big shoes to fill because they were never taken out of the box. Or even out of the store.

“That sucks. I bet he thought you were in heaven.”

You laugh with the girls, joking in a way similar to the women that flooded Miguel’s for-you page.

Miguel stepped away to get a breather. If he stayed any longer, he might do something drastic.

GymRat!Miguel who is leaning on the boat when Gabriel comes to check up on him.

“You ok, Miguelito?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. A little overwhelmed so I need to reset,” Miguel wrung his wrists while he let the sea breeze cool him down.

“Is it the game? Don’t feel so bad,” Gabriel leans closer to Miguel and speaks in a stage whisper. “Some of them are a little too fast for their own good.”

Miguel snickered. Gabriel was definitely tipsy.

“Thanks, Gabri.”

“Anytime. Don’t let them bring you down. You’re my perfect Miguelito. My pure baby!” Gabriel kissed him on the cheek.

“Ugh,” Miguel laughed and wiped at his wet cheek.

“Don’t wipe away at my love, broski.”

GymRat!Miguel who is guided by you in a dance. You’re a little tipsy and giggly, holding onto him as you dance to the music.

Miguel just holds onto your hips and smiles with you.

GymRat!Miguel who is locked in on your body as you grind against him. You’re arching your back and looking at him with a sparkle in your eye and Miguel feels like a wild animal.

When you lean back against him, he whispers in your ear about a private party just for the two of you. You bite your lip and turn to look at him. His eyes are tracing your lips and his hands are groping you.

GymRat!Miguel who laughs at you as you wish everyone a good night quickly.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning!” you shout to your friends as you pull Miguel behind you to the room.

GymRat!Miguel who waits for you on the bed while you use the bathroom.

He’s excited for an intimate night with just you. Parties were fun but it really couldn’t beat the serenity of smaller groups. It especially couldn’t beat talking all night with you.

Everyone else was chilling out in other parts of the yacht, back in their hotel rooms, or night paddle boarding.

You’re in the bathroom staring at the thin fabric in your hand.

Miguel told you that there was a pool involved.

You bought a micro bikini during a surge of confidence. It looked so cute on the model and you wanted to feel the same way.

Now you’re standing in the bathroom freaking out, worried to death over the flimsy material. You were excited about Miguel seeing it, but you couldn’t shake your own nerves about how everything would play out.

A knock at the door makes you jump.

You crack the door and peer up at Miguel.

“You ok in there?” he asked, eyebrows pinched.

“Yeah, I’m ok! I’ll be out in just a sec!”

You bite the bullet and place the bikini on.

You didn’t account for your areolas to poke out beyond the triangles. You bit your lip as you turned to check out your backside.

At least your ass looked great.

In a nervous motion, you pull your coverup over you and pull your hair up so that it doesn’t get too ruined by the water. It was now or never.

GymRat!Miguel who holds your hand as he guides you to the private area. You’re squeezing his hand so tight.

One of the stewardesses smiles as she sees you two coming. She stands next to a rope cutting off the area.

“Good evening to you both! I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay so far,” her voice is polite and even. “Tonight, it’ll be just you two enjoying the Galaxy. If you need anything, just press the call button on the wall and I’ll be right down.”

She unlatches the rope and holds her arm out in the direction of the stairs.

You both slowly descend, careful not to slip on the trippy-looking wood.

Taking a step into the room, Miguel stares in awe at the glowing pool.

There’s petals fluttering about, small fairy lights surround the corners to add extra light. Looking up, you both can see the night sky with the stars adorning it.

“This is beautiful,” you say, the lights surrounding you glittering in your eyes.

You were staring at the stars and the lights but Miguel couldn’t help but to think that you were the most beautiful part of the room.

He said this much to you, watching as you bent your head down hiding the smile on your face. Miguel lifted it back up and kissed you under the light of the stars.

“Ready?”

“Yeah, let me just go take this off.”

You walk towards a chair with folded towels placed on it.

“Miguel, these have our names on them!” you say with shock, running your fingers over the embroidered letters. Hearts surrounded the names and you felt fuzzy from the implication of the stewardess preparing this.

“Yeah, I heard it was a part of the couple’s bundle,” he shouts from the pool. It wasn’t really a part of the bundle, but Miguel suggested it way before the trip.

His back was turned to you, trying to set up a speaker by the pool.

The moment was perfect, so you opened a champagne bottle and poured two glasses. You took a huge gulp of one and removed your slip.

GymRat!Miguel who hears you entering the water, so he hurries to pick out a song.

The mood needs to be right.

He turns to you and nearly drowns at the sight. (Art is not affiliated with this fic, but I couldn't find any plus-size women in real life on Pinterest with this type of bikini! Please give this artist some love, I love their art!)

You’re coming down the stairs with two glasses in your hand and your skin on full display. The strings are digging tight into your skin and your breasts are practically spilling out from every side.

Miguel is stunned.

“Come grab your drink, Miguel,” your voice is like butter in his ears.

His eyes don’t leave you as he swims across the pool. The only sounds that could be heard are the water moving around him and the music playing. When he gets closer, he stands up, water dripping down his body. He’s breathing hard and is laser-focused on your frame.

You feel an array of emotions. You feel like running, jumping, maybe hiding. His gaze is too heavy and he hasn’t spoken a word yet.

You don’t know how long you two stare at each other before Miguel breaks the tension, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

He takes the glasses from your hand with one hand and picks you up in the other. You cling to him as he goes to the edge of the pool, places one glass down and chugs the other.

In a flash, you’re sitting on the edge and he’s holding his body out of the water in order to kiss you.

He pushes your mouth open, pulling at your lip with his teeth. He was desperate, wanting more.

Your hands find your way to his hair, the tips wet from his swim. You card your fingers through his locks, opening your mouth wider as Miguel groans onto your tongue.

He can’t stop, body moving forward the deeper the kisses get. Your legs open wider and your hands fall down Miguel’s back. You go lower than usual, pushing your hands under his swimsuit, fingertips grazing over the skin of his ass.

Miguel parts, spit-ridden mouth red and messy.

“You’re making this so hard for me,” he says against your lips. You’re both panting into each other’s mouths.

Your body feels like jelly. The way that he’s looking at you fills you with desire, “Making what hard?” You’re quivering and clenching as his eyes seem to get darker.

“Baby,” Miguel kisses the corner of your lips then your jaw. He moves to where your jaw and neck connect, licking “Amor. I can’t.”

You move your head, encouraging him to continue, “You can if you want to.”

“No, I’m supposed to take this slow,” his mouth moved to your collarbone, sucking at the skin as you squeezed your thighs around him. “I need to take this slow.”

He gets to your breasts, pressing your nipples through the material and watching as your areolas poked out more. “Mierda.”

You try to talk as Miguel takes one breast into his mouth, “It’s ok to want more. I want, ugh, I want you to take more.” He pulls at your nipple, watching as it rises more through the fabric. His thumb traces it, causing you to twitch in his hold.

He continues to rub over the fabric as he kisses down your stomach. The string is wrapping around your stomach like a gift just for him.

“Tomorrow, baby,” he says into your skin. “I’ll take more tomorrow.”

He needed to stop before he broke the promise he made to himself.

He hears you whine as he gets eerily close to your sex before jerking his body straight.

“Why?” you sound so needy and broken.

“Because,” he kisses your pout away. “Tomorrow, I’m going to take all I need. You just need to trust me. Please.”

You nod your head, heart pounding with his words.

GymRat!Miguel who lets you persuade him into swapping places. All it took was a few blinks of your eyes and Miguel was swooning.

“I saw you walk away during the game today. I wanted to make sure that the next time you play, you’re able to put a finger down.”

That’s what you told him with a sweet smile on your face.

Now you’re rubbing up his thighs and Miguel is about to pass out from the view of you peering up at him. Your eyes were foggy and the slope of your neck to your chest was glistening. From this angle, Miguel could see the curve of your ass with the bikini barely covering it.

You run your hands down his chest, fingers dancing along the slopes and planes, leaving a wet trail in your wake. Miguel’s stomach tightens as you make it below his belly button, the sensation of your fingertips across his happy trail building a fury in his core.

You kiss him through his swimsuit causing him to jump.

You hold his thighs and tilt your head to lean on one, “Are you nervous, Miggy?” Your knuckles rake against his groin, lingering in spots that made his inner thighs clench the most.

“I,” Miguel is trembling like a leaf. He can barely get the words out from how much energy he's using to hold himself up. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” You lift your body from the water a little, pressing your tits closer to his clothed sex. “Baby, I need you to know. I can’t go further without your permission.”

Miguel feels like he could cum right now.

“I’m really nervous, but I want to experience this.”

You hum as you start to pull at his waistband. His eyes scrunch closed as his dick springs up.

You’re met with a sight you had missed. The size is still as intimidating as the last time.

You rub his thighs and give yourself a quiet pep talk. You were determined to make your boyfriend feel good.

Miguel looks back down at you and swallows dryly, anxious at the look in your eyes and your silence, “If it’s too much, w-we can stop here-”

“No.”

The first lick of his tip has Miguel rising off of the pool edge, pre-cum escaping him.

He whines, embarrassed at his lack of control, but his dick is twitching from the sensation.

“Miguel,” your hands are back on his hips at a flimsy attempt to hold him down. “You need to be careful, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby right now.” Miguel’s voice is winded like he’s been running a marathon.

You look up at him. His mouth is twisted up and his eyebrows are furrowed. His stomach keeps shaking and his elbows don’t know if they want to bend or extend. When he looks down at you, he lets out a whimper, dick jerking against his will.

You hold your lips right above the head, the heat of it making you excited, “Baby.”

Miguel jerks again as you take his tip into your mouth, more of his pre-cum slipping out. His body is wound tight and he’s losing sense of it. Your mouth is so warm and he’s crying out from just you suckling along the head. He would be grateful with just this alone.

You push yourself lower, mouth adjusting to the widening girth. You don’t know if it’s the champagne combined with the other drinks you’ve had today, but the taste is making your mind fuzzy.

You hum as you move your tongue along the underside of his length, his essence melting into your mouth. Miguel continues to twitch against your lips.

You look up and he just groans when his eyes connect with yours.

“P-pretty,” he stutters out, brain-to-mouth filter completely disintegrating. One of his arms covers his mouth as he fights to quiet down. There’s no telling what the stewardess could hear from above.

You decided to go deeper, wanting to hear him some more. You make it halfway down before you grip his shaft and give it a few semi-dry pumps.

Miguel just about shouts at the sensation, legs jerking enough to splash the water around you.

Satisfied with the reaction, you release him with a pop and slide your tongue down to the base, trying to get him as wet as possible for what you’re about to attempt to do. You pucker your lips to leave wet kisses all over his shaft, sucking occasionally.

All Miguel can do is whimper and shake.

You hold him, sliding your hand up and down, applying pressure whenever you glide over the top, “You can hold on to me.”

Miguel shakes his head and releases his bottom lip from his teeth to speak, but his words are jumbled up in a heated mess.

“Say it again, Miguel. I don’t understand,” you bring your mouth to the head again, this time, cupping his balls as you slide back down.

Early spurts of cum land in your mouth as Miguel uselessly grips at the flat ground. He’s moaning out your name and if you weren’t sliding him down your throat, you would think he’s crying for you.

“I-I don’t wanna hurt you,” Miguel takes heavy breaths in the middle of his sentence.

Even like this he was oh so sweet. You don’t push it and continue on.

As you reach the hilt, you force yourself to relax, thumb pressed against your fisted palm. He was heavy on your tongue and you needed to find the right pace.

You slowly move your head up and down, lips wet with spit and slick. You build a steady tempo that has Miguel involuntarily moving his hips and moaning in a senseless manner.

He was conflicted, core heated at the sound of your throat barely taking him, but wanting to pull you off so you don’t choke all because of him. Hot tears ran down his face as you didn’t let up.

He chooses the latter, foggy mind coming to a decision. His shaky hands reach towards your face, your cheeks hallowed and eyes closed. His hands make it to your cheeks when you reach the hilt again and swallow around his head.

Miguel scares himself with the moan he lets out.

You panic as you swallow his load, mouth completely full.

Miguel hurries to pull you off, “Shit! Baby, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s ok,” you cough as you try to catch your breath. Drips of him that you didn’t swallow falling to your chest. “I wish you would have told me you were about cum, though.”

“I didn’t know!” he’s red in the face. “God, I’m so sorry!”

“Was it good, though?” You look up at him with lips and sparkling eyes. You’re holding your tits up so that his cum wouldn’t get in the pool.

Miguel’s dick twitches like it’s trying to wake back up again. You notice it and a grin plants itself right onto your face.

“Do you really have to ask me that?”

“Yes, Miggy.”

“I think my embarrassing finish was enough but yes, you made me feel good. It was way more than good. Now come out of the pool before you get any more ideas.”

“It wasn’t embarrassing!” you reply as Miguel picks you up from the water and on his stomach while lays back. “‘Was kinda hot. You felt so good that you couldn’t wait.”

You slide your finger over your cleavage to pick up the leftover essence and plop right in your mouth.

Miguel grips your thighs as he looks up at you, “No, stop that, you vixen.”

You’re going to be the death of him for sure.

GymRat!Miguel whose legs are like jelly when you help him up from the ground. His thighs haven’t shaken this much since his first leg day almost five years ago.

“Do you need to lie down on the beach chair for a minute?” you ask with genuine concern.

“Yeah, I think I need a second,” Miguel says, trying his best not to put his entire weight onto you.

GymRat!Miguel who watches you watch him from the pool. You’re at the edge, leaning over and smiling at him while you let your body float.

“Next time, I want to get, like, really hoarse. We should work on your resistance and my tolerance. Oh! And maybe we can do that thing where I hold your-”

“Amor, please. Let’s talk about this when I’m not halfway dying,” Miguel groans, dick half hard. “How are you so good at this anyway?”

“Practice! With my ex and like one other fling. They weren’t nearly as responsive as you, though.”

Miguel squints at your figure.

“Or fun. Or satisfying. Or tasty. Or big. Can I do it one more time, Miggy?”

Miguel stares at you for a minute or two then groans, “Come on.”

You leave the water and walk over to him with glee.

GymRat!Miguel who grabs lightly onto your head this time, fingers twitching occasionally. His legs are parted and you’re laid out on the horizontal part of the beach chair. Miguel is constantly looking from your face to your ass, experiencing a sensation overload. You take it easy on him this time, saving some of your tricks and things you wanted to try for a later date.

The room is filled once again with Miguel’s grunts and whimpers plus your mouth and throat molding unto him.

GymRat!Miguel who warns you this time. You let go with a pop and let him paint your open mouth. He shudders as you look at him through it all, pumping him slowly until he can't take anymore. A lonely tear escaped him, eyes heavy and chest heaving.

GymRat!Miguel who barely makes it back up the stairs. He gives the stewardess a polite smile but you can barely look at her for longer than a second.

“It was really lovely,” you say leaning into Miguel’s side, voice a little gone.

“Yeah, amazing,” Miguel snickers. You nudge him at the back of his leg causing him to stagger a bit.

The stewardess just laughs and wishes you both a good night.

GymRat!Miguel who sleeps like a log that night. His soul needed to rejuvenate.

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up a new man. He feels like he can conquer the world. As of now, the world is a new set of water activities with their friends.

He kisses you on the cheek in your sleeping state makes his way out to the deck, wanting to do some morning stretches and yoga if he could fit it in.

He walked out to see Dana talking to Blake, an indifferent look on her face.

“I just can’t believe he would lie to me like that, you know? Like that’s fucked up. Here I was, ready to get something and he set me up.”

“Yeah, no. That really sucks,” Dana replies with a big yawn.

“I mean, I thought we were bros. I thought-”

“Miguel! My knight in shining armor,” Dana practically screams when she spots Miguel.

Blake tenses up so that if he mimics a timid raccoon.

“Morning,” Miguel walks up to them.

Blake breaks out into a sweat, “Hey man, I’m sorry about last night. I would have never done that stuff if I knew. I don’t know why Kron told me you guys were open.”

“I think you need some new friends and better social cues,” Miguel brushed Blake off and walked with Dana onto the boardwalk.

“Thank god you got here. That was his fourth iteration of ‘bro code should be respected.’ I was going to start screaming if he kept talking.”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Dana guide him in a mini yoga class on the beach. It’s pretty nice with the waves crashing and the birds squawking occasionally.

GymRat!Miguel whose downward dog pose is almost disrupted by you whistling from a spot in the sand.

You and Gabriel had snuck up on Miguel and Dana, cackling like hyenas.

“Baby, I think you can go deeper,” you shout over the waves, encouraging Miguel to stretch.

“Gross,” Gabriel shudders.

GymRat!Miguel who wants to use you for a flying pose but you refuse.

“I’m not walking back with sand up my back.”

“Can we try it later, though?” Miguel pouted.

“On safe carpet, yes.”

GymRat!Miguel who settles for a forward fold with you. You stretch your body across his back as he reaches down to touch his toes.

It’s nice until you both switch positions.

“I think I’m dying,” you gasp out. You sound like an old man on his last breath.

“No, you’re not. You just need more practice,” Miguel chides from above.

“When will I ever need this pose in life?”

“Flexibility is good for you!” Miguel replies after a while.

“Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

GymRat!Miguel who tilts his head at your breakfast plate piled with pineapples.

“You don’t want an omelet?”

“Maybe later.”

GymRat!Miguel who joined any group activity he could.

From the inflatable water obstacle course,

which Gabriel cheated on by the way,

To the boat tour, he got so many pictures for you for his rotating home screen,

To the banana boat rides that he almost lost his life on. It took you, Gabriel, and Dana to hold onto him.

GymRat!Miguel who surprises you with a “rooftop” dinner on the horizon on the highest part of the yacht. You’re wearing that same green dress that made him go crazy in the dressing room.

“This is so gorgeous, Miguel,” you sigh as you take in the small scene.

From up here, you could see the breathtaking view of the ocean and the city. The sun was close to setting, people were out and about, and the group was partaking in last-minute activities like parasailing and water walking with bubble balls but you could only focus on the glow around Miguel.

“Did you enjoy this weekend?”

You nod your head, shy with attention, “I really did. I had so much fun.”

“Even with boys that don’t understand the word ‘no’?”

“When I have my strong boyfriend there to defend me, what is there to be afraid of?” you smile at him.

Miguel sits up straighter at that, chest puffing out.

You laugh at his state, “Seriously, though. This was one of the best summers ever. I’m really glad Mr. Stone arranged this and I’m even more glad that you brought me along.”

“Of course I did. You’re my girl. Mi amor, mi luz,” Miguel reached out to run your hand. “I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

Like a flower unfurled, your heart took in his words. You leaned across the table until you could brush your lips with his, only the sun peeking through the two of you.

You let go and lean back a little. “I’m not letting go of you either. I want you by my side,” you say, eyes panning back and forth between his.

“And that’s where I’ll stay.”

GymRat!Miguel who covers your eyes on the way back to the room.

You’re whining because you don’t have nearly as much planned for him as he always does for you.

“Amor, you could just text me an emoji and I would be happy. You deserve good things. Don’t worry about me.”

GymRat!Miguel who wraps his arm around you as you open your eyes to the room.

It’s lit with soft lights, decorated lightly with rose petals in the shape of a heart on the ground, and a banner full of pictures with the two of you. Pictures from outside of lab, pictures of you with oil paint on your face, pictures of him piled with notes in the study lab.

Pictures of you both on your early dates, pictures of you looking at him in the car, pictures where he’s kissing your face off.

You gasp at the scene, feet stuck in the entryway.

“Surprise,” Miguel says into your ear, kissing the top of it.

“I don’t think I have any tears left,” your voice is watery enough to dispute that lie.

GymRat!Miguel who kisses you deeply in the middle of the rose heart. You’re cradling his face with one hand and rubbing your thumb across his sideburn with another.

You’re so wrapped up in his arms and his presence that you miss his question.

“Can you do what?”

Miguel’s hands find their way to your ass, pulling you even closer, “Can I please eat you out?”

When you stare at him with your eyebrows raised, it only pushes him to continue.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I’ve dreamed about it, researched how to do it, studied it, daydreamed about it. I need to do it before I go crazy.”

He bent down to get on his knees, hands never letting go of your body.

“Please, baby. If you’ll allow me, I really want to make you feel good.”

At first, all you could think was that Dana was right and definitely a girl’s girl. Then, you looked down at Miguel whose head was pressed up against your torso, eyes pleading with you.

You ran your hand through his hair, “You need to do it?”

“Uh huh,” he nodded, nuzzling into your body through your dress.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to fake my reactions for you.” You didn’t have the heart to lie to him like that, especially when he’s looking at you like that.

“You won’t have to,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “I’m confident, but if something is weird, stop me immediately.”

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t give you time to think when you whisper out an “ok.” He’s picking you up by the legs and plopping you on the bed.

Like a switch, he’s kissing down your body, pulling at the stretchy green fabric to expose your skin. He’s crowding your space in the most desired way possible, a fire building within him.

“Miguel, the dress isn’t going to come off like that,” you say, internally laughing at Miguel tugging to no avail.

He starts to pull so hard that you can hear threads ripping. Before you can stop him, there’s a makeshift slit up your thigh.

You lean up on your elbows and give Miguel a look. He just stares sheepishly and lets you stand up to pull the dress off.

“You gotta be more patient baby,” you purred, bending down to kiss his lips.

When you lean back, you move backwards to sit on the bed. It’s just you, your black panties, and a hungry Miguel at your feet.

The further you inch up the bed, the more Miguel crawls to be closer to you.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathes into your mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

“Please.”

Miguel melts into your skin, mouth molding to a familiar shape. His breaths are heavy and sporadic, too excited to finally know what you feel like on his tongue.

You reach to pull his shirt off, wanting to feel his chest against yours, wanting to feel the expanse of his back while he pressed up against you. Miguel follows your movements without letting up.

He sighed into your lips with pleasure as he let his hand flow down your body, grabbing a breast to massage. You hummed into his mouth, legs parting to bring him closer. Eager to please, Miguel slipped his shorts below his bulged, grinding against you.

You start to wrap your legs around his waist before Miguel interrupts you with a sturdy hand under your knee, and a promise to devour you to your neck.

GymRat!Miguel who groans when he slides your panties down your legs. The slope of your thick thighs to your ass has Miguel ready to burst.

He gets on his knees to maneuver your legs up into your arms. You peek up at him over your knees, your wet cunt kissing the air.

He licks his lips at the sight, taking a tentative touch at your wet lips.

You jump at the sensation, the feeling of Miguel seeing you this vulnerable new.

He bends down to kiss them, hands on the back of your thighs for extra support. Your core flutters as he takes a few more kisses to your sex, tongue reaching out to trace from the bottom to the top. At the first taste, Miguel is groaning into you, sending vibrations through your body.

You sigh out in bliss as your grip loosens on your legs. Miguel flattens his body on the bed and spreads your legs wide, tongue continuing to savor the taste of you.

At this angle, Miguel pushes his tongue in between your folds, feeling your warmth around him. He laps at your entrance slowly causing you to flutter around him and reach for his hair.

He slurps up the juices that try to escape him causing you to moan out his name. He just hums in response, breaching further inside. The more noises he makes, the wetter you get. The room is full of the sound of him lapping everything he gave you and your quiet moans.

“Miguel,” your breath hitched as he swiped over a particular spot. You look down at Miguel whose eyes are closed and hands are tight on your thighs. You feel a building heat seeing how much of a trance he’s in.

Just when you feel a bud sprouting within you, he directs his attention towards your clit, searching until he finds it. At the first skim across it, your hips are bucking up off the bed. Miguel is quick to hold you down, placing his weight on your thighs and lapping continuously at the pearl.

“Fuck!” you shout, hitting the mattress. You’re writhing beneath him, unable to control your body. “Don’t stop, Miguel, please.”

Miguel groans through it all, lapping up every drop.

“Baby, I’m gonna-” a scream pushes through you as your body shakes with pleasure. Miguel takes it like a champ, slurping like you were his last meal.

As you twitch with aftershocks, Miguel barely gives you time to recover before he’s diving back into your entrance. You let out a sob, still sensitive and quivering as your legs move too close before Miguel growls and wraps his arms around your thighs to keep them open.

He’s sinking into you, moving his tongue at a steady pace and sucking in between. Your moans were a pool of words from his name to begging to profanities crescendoing across the air.

Miguel would rarely part for air, adamant on bringing you to the hilt again. Your thighs were tensing up as Miguel kept going, fire building as you grabbed his hair and jerked your hips in time with his movements.

Your climax comes in waves, your hands tighter in his hair and an arch in your back. When you clench over his tongue and your release hits his mouth, Miguel’s eyes start to roll and he’s rubbing his nose against your clit. You yell even louder as Miguel pushes his face incredibly deep into your pussy. He’s rutting into the bed at the sound of your voice, moaning with you.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The captain swore that the VIP suite was soundproof, but your voice was practically carrying across the yacht.

“She’s getting it good! Just like I promised,” Dana smiles to herself.

“What did you promise? I was the one that gave Miguel tips.” Gabriel moved his headphones aside.

“Oh yeah? And what tips did you give him?” She had her eyebrow raised and a silly smirk on her face.

There was a pause of silence between them, only your voice filling up the space occasionally. Gabriel stared at Dana with a goofy grin.

He reached over and connected his phone to his speaker, putting on his special playlist. “Want to find out?”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

GymRat!Miguel who has to be pulled off your sex with both of your hands. His eyes are glazed over and his chin is soaked. Every chance you came after the first two times, your body would move up the bed and Miguel was sure to follow.

“Ok, ok, baby,” you heave. Your legs are spasming, a result of the position and Miguel’s willingness to have you cum over and over again.

You were tapping out, body sore and tired.

Miguel left a final long kiss to your clit, a trail of essence following his lips. He kissed up one of your thighs with a hungry look still in his eyes.

“¿Lo hice bien, cariño?” (Did I do it well, baby/darling?)

You trembled at his touch, limbs still heavy and mind in the clouds.

Still, this was the best you’ve felt in a while.

You open your mouth to whisper, “Lo hiciste muy bien.” (You did so good.)

GymRat!Miguel who has to calm down internally at your answer. You don’t talk to him in Spanish often, but when you do, he’s over the moon.

GymRat!Miguel who carries you to the bathroom to clean you off.

“Baby, I can’t walk. You’ll have to carry me for the rest of your life.”

“I’m totally fine with that.”

GymRat!Miguel who shocks you when he says that you don’t need to worry about bringing him relief.

“Amor, I came when you came. After that, it was really all about you.”

“Oh!”

GymRat!Miguel who pats his past self on the back for asking the crew for extra sheets. He had no clue how the evening would go, but something in him told him to be overprepared.

Those old sheets were beyond ruined.

GymRat!Miguel who rubs your legs and stomach with aloe vera lotion after the shower. Not only did he stretch you a little further than you’re used to, but his bite marks left a big impression.

GymRat!Miguel who cuddles you to sleep. If you wore him out the other night, he definitely put you through the ringer. You were gone after three rubs to your back.

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up early with you to send off all of your friends. You’re yawning constantly, tears sticking to the corners of your eyes.

“Someone had a time last night,” Hobie snickers as he walks past with his backpack.

“Shut up, Hobie,” you say, already flustered.

“What? It’s true! If I didn’t know Migs' name before, I sure do now.”

“I’m going to backflip off of this boat.”

GymRat!Miguel who grants Captain Barrett a goodbye, thanking him for letting them use his boat.

“It was a pleasure to host you, Miguel. If you and your girlfriend ever need to, my superyacht is available for any future formal events!” he elbows Miguel with a giant grin, curled mustache moving like it was paid to do so.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Cap.”

For Miguel, the man with the plan, he would grant Mission A: Eat You Out, a huge success and the start of the summer one to remember.

divider by: @iwonbin 🩵

Part 9.1 here!

a/n: And with that, the yacht chapter is finished! I hope you guys enjoyed it and got your life. 🤭 It was both challenging and rewarding to write this GIANT chapter. I hope that you guys have fun with it like I did! I have no idea how the next chapter OR Miguel's Mission B: Virgin No More plan will go, but!!! Hopefully, it will be pleasant regardless! 🤠

ALSO! I have decided to give this drabble that's basically a fic a proper name (mostly for AO3). Do you all have any suggestions?

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vhstown · 4 months ago

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ain't no love; epilogue

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SERIES SUMMARY: Miles G Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life one in the middle of the semester, the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 5 / EPILOGUE

chapter summary: You and Miles share a few months of normalcy. And maybe something new, too.

content/warnings: depictions of miles (whipped) morales

word count: 1.5k

a/n: wahoo we did it guys thank u to @/qiuweyballs forever for proofreading LETS FREAKING GO MAN

"You sure it's five dollars?"

"Four dollars, ninety-nine," the man behind the counter replied, grinning until his eyes were barely visible behind his tinted glasses. "Completely positive, young man."

"Aight, sure. Here."

While Miles was sure the man had definitely stuck another price on top of the original one, he didn't really want to stay in this rickety old comic book store any longer. Miles' hand had gotten kind of sweaty from holding yours by now — not that he minded. It was totally fine that he was also sweaty everywhere else he had skin. When had he gotten this sweaty? He was done with puberty. He was a man. He was your… Uh…

"Are we going?"

Your voice broke his trail of thoughts as his eyes jump from the counter to you. Right. You'd agreed to go out with him. And at the end of this, if he would just stop sweating, maybe you'd go out with him again. And it wouldn't be to Marge's like the first thing he suggested when he was totally out of it before realising that probably wasn't the best place for a date.

"Miles?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah. My bad."

He snatched up the comic book, the man's squinted eyes never leaving him. That head of silvery hair had once been closer to brown, maybe when comic books didn't go for five whole dollars. "NO REFUNDS. EVER." passed him by as he left the store, his hand still in yours, trying so hard to not move but also to get into a less sweaty position. This was the last comic book he'd ever buy, damn it.

It was coming to the start of spring, and that meant the day was a little more ideal for a date. Visions did like to run things a lot more intensely, but you'd finally managed to make it to your next break. The two of you had more time to spend together now that most exams were over, and you'd spent the whole of today going to places that Miles had wanted to show you for a while.

In-between that, there had been a lot of explaining too — to both you and Uncle Aaron. He'd told you everything from the start, even if piece by piece on lunch breaks, or texts, or late night phone calls that you somehow managed to pick up regardless of the time. He told you how he'd gotten into Visions, why he was "so good at math" it annoyed you. He told you what happened to his dad, who his uncle was, what his Prowler gig was. He told you about college, and about his mom. Thank God you and his mom got along. It had been pretty tense when she'd found out he'd tried to quit school.

Being back in Visions, Miles had also told you all about his new roommate, Ganke. Devising ways to get out of school was particularly annoying, with Ganke staying up all night to work on some thesis. Ultra-smart. Way too good at video games. Maybe a little better at physics than him. What type of high-schooler has a thesis to work on anyway? He didn't mind the guy, though. It was nice to kick back and play games with someone again.

The most recent thing he'd told you, however, had been rather short. One word and one action he'd decided on in a split second while you were working on math homework together. He'd taken some… advice. Usually his uncle's advice would be good and thoughtful, but this little incident had been chipping away at his mind all week.

"Hey." That god-damned shoulder touch.

"…Hey yourself?"

The silence. It was the loudest thing he'd ever heard.

"You gonna… ask me out now?"

"What?" His voice had shot up about nineteen octaves. The highest thing he'd ever heard.

"I mean, what is this?"

"I didn't say… Wait—"

"What?"

"Wait, wait, no— Yes—"

"Miles?"

"Can I take you out? Please?"

You laughed, and his face had gotten stuck. It was one of your cute laughs. No, every one of your laughs was cute. No, wait, yes—

"Hey, look, it's the superhero you like."

MIles turned to see what you're looking at, and nearly spins himself around 360 degrees in the process. Totally on purpose, because he was cool. Not because he was still sweating.

"Oh, yeah," he commented, squinting at the cosplayer. "Huh."

"There's tons of people dressed up…"

"Probably Comic-Con, or something."

You just nodded thoughtfully, looking around at all the cosplayers passing by. Maybe the Prowler thing would pay eventually, or he could get an actual part-time job. He could take you both.

Miles let out a sigh, before feeling your hand squeeze his.

"We've been out for a while." There you were again, the bustle of the city muffling behind the sound of your voice. There was a little smile on your face, and he found the corners of his mouth were trying to lift up without his knowledge. "You wanna go back to yours?"

And so he was back in his room. That walk had been way too short to think of ways to be cool. You'd been in here a few times by now, studying, playing video games, peeking at the figurines he'd put away to potentially sell. Reading the comics he liked, even if their price was starting to make him wince a little. You seemed to like it, though, even if his room was starting to become barren of things he might as well have grown out of by now.

"The food was good," you started, as the two of you settled down in his room.

"Hope that place stays open," he muttered, trying to reel in the sense of weariness in his voice.

"Why wouldn't they? It looks like they're doing well."

"Exactly. They get bought out as soon as they do."

"Oh."

Way to sour the mood, Morales. How is that even relevant?

"You're right, though," you contemplated, frowning a little. "It feels like everything's getting bought up recently. Even Vision's cafeteria changed companies."

"Eugh, don't remind me," he replied, rolling his shoulders to make a show. "That food is lethal."

"You'd think Visions of all places would have decent lunch."

"Exactly. At least they've still got vending machines." He couldn't believe he didn't know you could cheat them until you showed him. This vending machine business was lucrative.

"True."

Miles tried looking at you, but only got to looking at your knee. His heart stops when he feels your arm around him, and he finally meets your expression. That little gleam in your eye doesn't go unnoticed.

"Thanks for the date," you start.

"Anyti—" Your lips pressed against his cheek before he could finish.

Miles fought valiantly, but the grin that formed on his face fought harder.

"Did you uh… did you miss?" he muttered, without thinking. Did you miss…? Did I miss all fifteen years my mom raised me?!

"No…?" you replied, laughing awkwardly. God, he totally just bombed it. "Do you… want to?"

Okay, he didn't just totally bomb it. He had a chance. Did he even really wanna kiss you yet? No, yeah, he really did. Why can't I move?!

"I don't know how to… how to… you know."

He had only planned so far ahead. Miles had no idea how to kiss someone.

"Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Just do it."

He closed his eyes, feeling your hand give his a little squeeze, before he felt the faint brush of breath against his lips. And then he felt warmth. The taste of lip balm he'd let you borrow. He was kissing you.

Miles kept his eyes closed, but his hand had found the small of your back anyway, pulling you closer. The kiss had only lasted for a few moments, but when he finally opened his eyes, the world was a lot brighter than he remembered. Your smile was a lot brighter than he remembered. His face was a lot hotter than he remembered.

"The next one's on you," you murmured, simply. He could feel the words against his skin, tickling his face. You were insanely good-looking this close.

"Cool." His voice came out in a slightly breathless mumble.

His lips found yours again, and his eyes fell shut. He felt his shoulders relax. His heart had finally started to slow from its pounding. He wasn't sweating anymore.

And he was kissing you. You were his. He sure as hell was yours.

"Stay," he murmured against your mouth, his eyes on yours.

"How long?"

"Forever."

"Forever?" The two of your quiet laughs are muffled with another kiss.

"Yeah," Miles replied, as his hand went up to cup your cheek. "I got so much more to tell you."

my lovely jubly taglist: @noetophat @sakura-onesan @bakugouswaif @phoenixinthefiles @daydreaming-en-pointe @sp1derw1re @kvvrc @spookyscaryskeletrans @kirishimasproteinpowder @spam-1 @playboifenty @hobiebrownismygod @kissingkzuha @nyumeii @uwukiity @itzmeme @shittingonyourgrave @theyluvbix @kezibear @theseustimes

thank you so much for reading aint no love! could not appreciate all of the love (haha) on this series 💗💗💗 this was so crazy but so fun i never thought id be able to complete a longer thing of writing like this but here we are!

a big thank you to my friend chewy too who had to listen to me rant about this series at pretty unethical times of the day and also read through all my not so lovely drafts 🫡🫡🫡

if you have any questions about this universe or series or anything in general my inbox is open!

reblogs and replies are much appreciated as always, and you can find my atsv masterlist here!

#miles g morales x reader #42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #earth 42 miles x reader #prowler miles x reader #miles g morales #miles gonzalo morales #42!miles #miles g #prowler miles #atsv x you #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #vhstown

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wishfulsketching · 5 months ago

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So. That was Arcane. As a whole.

Best episode of the season was episode 7. I might be a bit biased thanks to Silco and Vander living it up as their older selves but also, Ekko is truly the mvp of the show.

I hmm. Well. Victor. I see what was going on there. I see the vision. I loved lot of it. I had the sudden realizations of "that's Victor, right" before it happened....dude looked more like Jesus than ever before too. But uhh. Hmm. Hmm. There is like a chapter missing between s1 and s2 with Victor. Or more like mid season 2 chapter. Love my boy still. I did not care for his Machine Herald look. I liked the idea of the face being split. It hmm. I feel like they said, instead of showed, a lot with Victor this season.

My controversial opinion: Isha was unnecessary. The black rose mage stuff was unnecessary. Same end result could've been achieved with other means. Vi was just there to experience things and be sad. Jinx can't have shit and should suffer all the time, I guess.

BUT

Nice

My man was a positive voice for Jinx. Uhhh in a way. Kinda made her go suicidal but like, he was trying. He is always trying. Even after death. Maybe after his hallucination talk people will understand that Silco wasn't just a evil dude with evil things to do, he was as trapped as everyone else in Zaun and wanted to break free.

Tho, I doubt it. The main enemy in Arcane is the class divide. In my eyes.

I do love the exploration of Hextech and how using magic in a technological way can be super dangerous and fuck shit up. I wanted to see that. And I did see that in season 1, when Jayce realizes how dangerous the hextech weapons are! Exploring the time loop and how abstract magic is, was great! I just.

I love this show. Very much. Season 1, no notes. It's made for me.

Season 2 seems like a people pleaser. And I am pleased! Yet I also wanted something different.

I am still happy because I got my vindication. Zaundads is canon, fuck yeah! No man looks at another man like that and is not in love with them!

I loved that they kept that Vander still tried to kill Silco. Silco went "yea ok that ass too good to quit. What is little murder between lovers, anyway. Come here bby"

Only thing. Silco should've interacted with Jinx in the alternative timeline. A simple "you look beautiful" when she has her entrance or "hey here's snack have fun building whatever you guys are building. Don't make too much noise, your father and I need to get up early tomorrow ok bye bye my perfect little genius"

#arcane #arcane spoilers #arcane season 2 #arcane season 2 spoilers #i didn't think we'd get that much silco but we got so much

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madamechrissy · 7 months ago

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Fractured Desires

ꕥ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Reader, past Suguru x reader, in this chap also some Shoko x reader- It's a mess tbh lol

ꕥ Content warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, threesomes/ foursomes/ complicated shit, infidelity. Abusive gaslighting Suguru. Yandere Gojo behavior. In this chapter- Rough sex, whipping, paddling, obsessed behavior, stalking, deep throating, female on female oral, use of nipple clamps and pain play, dacryphilia, breeding kink PSYCHO stalker SATORU but he's hot. And reader likes it!? Toxic relationship some physical description of the readers height/body, don't read if too unimmersive for you)

ꕥ Word Count this chap- 12.6k

ꕥ Summary- You meet Suguru Geto at your work, he is charming, gorgeous, and has a poly lifestyle. You jump in, and you all share women and have way too much fun. But then it's starting to get serious between you, official even. He can't wait to have you meet his best friend. But... Satoru Gojo hates you. The minute you meet. He gives you no reason, but he's nasty to you, no matter what you try. Suguru finally has enough of Satoru being so mean and brings up the idea - 'let's have you two fuck this frustration out'

Satoru hates you because deep down wants to make you his. He doesn't understand how Suguru could ever want anyone but you. Though it's a bad idea, he agrees to share you with Suguru for a chance at you and... The moment he touches you... Rules are bent and broken, Suguru develops feelings for another girl, and Satoru gets further obsessed with you. Nothing is as it seemed. Will everyone get hurt?

Split btwn Satoru's POV and yours

Chapter 6 ꕥ Masterlist ꕥ Playlist

Chapter 7

The next night

Your POV

The bar is packed that night, you’re going to head out early with Satoru to finally get that date you’ve been dying for. And there Satoru is, sitting there at the bar while you work, with his fancy outfit in the wild sports bar, looking like a million bucks. He is sipping on the sweetest drink you could concoct, watching you intently.

The music is thumping and the lights flashing, creating a chaotic yet energetic atmosphere. You and Choso are bustling around, serving drinks and trying to keep up with the demand. As the time ticks by, there is a tightness in your chest, while you bend over now, breasts on full display in a pretty pink corset top. Satoru licks that lower lip, glaring at you, and you give him a wink.

“Gotta get good tips, Toru.” You whisper, taking his glass and shaking him a new drink, his blue eyes glow even in the dark club.

“Little bitch, you're so getting punished tonight.” He murmurs, and your brows raise, as his words send desire, hot straight to your tummy. You tense as his words wash all over you, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

“Well I have a short shift so that I can leave for the date, Sir.” You whisper now, leaning close, your hands brushing against his as you pour his drink, the clear pink liquid into that little martini glass. He smirks up at you.

“Quit working and move in.”

“Wha-!?”

He chuckles now, and fuck it’s nice, to see the face so normally in pain, or in anger, genuinely smile. He’s so beautiful he makes your damn heart ache, every movement of his azure eyes lights you on fire, like you can physically feel it all. He’s so intensely watching, the entire time, and you have to wonder if he had done this before but…

You really don’t care.

You enjoy his gaze, his jealousy, his possessiveness. The way he watches every movement, like he’s watching a dance. You like him saying to not work anymore, fuck you almost want to, say fuck independence and let this six foot four man fuck your brains out daily. Who wouldn’t? It also didn’t help that just a smirk from those lips has you wet.

“He’s intense, yeah?” Choso murmurs, earning Satoru sticking his tongue out, and Choso does it back, making you giggle.

“He’s super intense.” You say, earning the middle finger now. “Woah!”

“Brats, both of you.” You and Choso laugh then, as you’re filled with this odd joy just for the moment. Satoru and Choso surprised you by getting along, with Satoru being so possessive with you, and hating everyone, you were honestly surprised. And Choso enjoyed him, even though you did omit Satoru’s more concerning behaviors.

He doesn’t need to know everything.

The bar is a whirlwind of chaos, with the thirsty patrons shouting for drinks, the clinking of glasses, and the constant throb of the bass from the speakers. You manage to keep up the facade of a happy, flirty bartender while serving drinks with a shaky hand here and there.

“Shit, she’s here.” You murmur then, and look to the barback, smiling and batting your lashes. “Could you take over for a few?” You ask sweetly, and he blushes, nodding eagerly.

“Of course!” You walk past the bar then, and up to Satoru who pulls you against him roughly, leaving you breathless.

“Stop flirting, brat. Every time you do I’ll smack the fuck out of you.” He grips you right then and there, and you can’t stop biting your lower lip, as you stand between his legs.

“You jealous of little me, Toru?” You whisper, and he scowls, but then she’s finally here, Shoko Ieri.

She smiles sadly at you, and you leave the position between Satoru’s legs to hold out your hands, which she gladly takes, dark eyes taking you in. “I wasn’t sure you’d come!”

“I am so fucking sorry, shit. I swear… he didn’t tell me you had any rules.” She says, and you pull her away, looking at Satoru now.

“Let’s go where it’s quieter, okay? But first, Cho can she have some wine? The best we have.” Choso pours the fanciest you all have, and she takes it gratefully, eyeing him then.

“Fuck, aren’t you hot.” She says, and you see Choso blush a bit, making you giggle as you look between them.

“Isn’t he young for you, cougar?” Satoru teases, and she shoves at him, glaring now.

“Cougar, then what are you, old man?”

“I’m thirty one!”

“I'm thirty, shithead!”

“You’re very pretty.” Choso says softly, and Shoko melts, as he holds out a tattooed hand, decked out in rings. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, love.” He kisses her hand over the bar, and Shoko’s mouth is left open as he gets back to working. “Why didn’t you just date him!?”

“You bitch.” Satoru grumbles, and she grins.

“What, he’s so sweet! And hot.” She sips her wine and may or may not be checking out Choso’s ass. “You’re a psycho, Satoru.”

“Yeah, yeah, she likes it.” He says, running a hand down your waist, and you can’t stop your little gasp, nor the dilation of your eyes. Shoko looks back and forth between you now, shifting her weight on one leg.

“Oh shit, you’re in love.” Satoru goes wide-eyed then, as do you, looking at her as she’s so calm, humming to herself. “What, you’re not? Knew it that night, just didn’t know the mess that happened.”

“Come on, you two.” You pull them both now, guiding them to where the pool tables were, a quieter area of the bar where people weren’t shouting and singing drunkenly. They both sit down now, and Satoru yanks you on his lap, despite your protests.

“In love.” Shoko quips again, Gojo scowls at her, but she just shrugs, and you’re blushing under the club lights once more.

“He hates me.” You say, and she scoffs at that, as Satoru’s wrapping an arm around your waist, pressing you firmly on his hard lap.

“I do hate her, so much.”

“Mmhmm, well if that’s hate, cut me off some.” You giggle at that, holding her hand now, smiling. “I thought you would hate me after that night. I really didn’t know what was going on. He told me you two were completely open, and you were like fucking Satoru on the side.”

“What! Oh god. No, the first time Satoru and I did anything was with Suguru…” Satoru tenses under you, you can feel his anger, his upset. You stroke a hand gently with your own soft fingers, trying to calm him. “And I respected his rules, though I will say I did kiss Satoru when not with him. But it was like… the way Satoru looked at me…”

“In love you mean.” You grin, and Satoru is flipping her off, sipping his drink now, grip tightening.

“Whatever it is.” You peek down, and his look softens just a bit, that mad look in his insane blue eyes that wrecks your every sense. You brush his hair back for a moment, and his white long lashes flutter shut, his lips relaxing in that firm set of his jaw, and you enjoy just that far too much, just looking at him. “I knew something was different than how Suguru did.”

Shoko studies you two, grabbing a cigarette then looking at you. “Will it bother you?”

“No go ahead.” You say, and she sighs, pulling a lighter out. She flicks with the lighter, then Satoru takes it, shaking it up and pushing it down, igniting a flame for her. She brushes her pretty hair back, leaning forward, taking an inhale then.

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Sure thing, brat.” She rolls her eyes at him and he hands her back the lighter, his hands going back to your hips.

“The way Suguru looked at me, it just… isn’t the same, and then when I noticed how he looked at you um… I was worried. But it wasn’t until Satoru that I really worried, because I could tell he was head over heels, and that I wasn’t that for him.” Shoko looks away then, over at the bar, where Choso is flipping bottles in the air, to the cooes of the crowd.

“I didn’t think he had it that bad for me. I was thrown off too, but then he assured me you two were so open. Now I feel like a whole bitch, I am part of what’s hurt you so bad now.” Shoko says, sighing.

“No, no… it’s on him if you didn’t have that information.” You say, she smiles a bit with her thin, pretty lips.

“I really only played because of you.” You blink then, as she caresses your cheek, leaning forward a bit. “You were so hot, and I was curious about Suguru I guess, all these years.”

“Me?” She laughs, leaning back and taking another hit, dark circles only enhancing her eyes as she looks up and down your body.

“Yeah you, like a little barbie.” You feel Satoru’s chuckle under you, shaking your body gently.

“That’s what she is, isn’t she?” Satoru hums, only further making you warmer with all the attention. “Sexy little barbie.” He nips at your bare shoulder, as Shoko watches with amusement.

“Toru…” You wiggle just a bit, making him suck in a breath, as your thighs shift with desire.

“Of course I was interested, and I must say… she’s elite, isn’t she Satoru?” You’re a mess now, cheeks on fire, red to your damn ears, and Satoru is getting even more insistently hard as you shift more, doing stupid things to your psyche.

“Elite pussy, absolutely. So elite I turned down a blow job.”

“You!?”

“Oh I can’t even imagine fucking anyone again. Too obsessed.”

“Holy fuck, well there you go. Who needs Suguru then.” You giggle a bit, but then grow a little serious.

“That’s not all, he… well he planned all of this, fucking me, to begin with, long before I met him. All because um… you and Toru had sex.” Shoko glares then, slamming down her wine.

“What now? Suguru wouldn’t… would he?” She looks to Satoru, who’s frowning now, just nodding a bit. “Fuck, he’s like that now? I know he’s changed, but… to play you and bring you into this? The fuck, man.”

“And he’s assaulted her.” Satoru casually says, and you stiffen a bit, as Shoko stands.

“Yeah what? He what?”

“More wine, Shoko?” You ask softly, standing, and she nods, caressing your cheek softly.

“Please, angel? I need something stronger for this shit.”

Soon the three of you are talking about everything, and Shoko looks so disgusted as you tell her what Suguru’s done, now she’s taking shots, you all are actually, you split your tips you’ve made with the barback as a thank you. Choso is smiling over at the three of you, and despite everything Suguru has done, he hasn’t broken your spirit, it’s still thriving.

“Satoru sucked in bed.” Shoko says, and he snorts, taking a shot himself now. “What you did.”

“You sucked in bed, so fucking lazy.”

“Worst fuck ever.” She says with a shiver, and you’re awkwardly looking back and forth as they look at you. “Now her…”

“Yes, her…” They both touch your arm on either side, and you look down shyly as they look at each other, then you. “I won’t share her with a guy, and I wouldn’t fuck you again Shoko… yuck…”

“Same, you’re so gross… but…” They’re grinning now, and you look between them wildly.

“What’s in your devious minds you two, I’m not sure I like it.” Shoko laughs, sultry now.

“Well if you don’t touch me at all…” He says, pressing kisses on your neck as he is speaking to Shoko.

“Oh I don’t want to. I’d say don’t touch me but I can tell your hands will be all over her anyway.” She kisses on your neck too, and you’re buzzed and confused. “Maybe I just prep her for you and leave.”

“Prep me!? What-”

“I’m okay watching that. But remember she’s mine.”

“You’re so psycho, Satoru-”

“Hey, I’m here you know!” You wave your hands now, and they just smirk down at you, Satoru all tall and gorgeous, Shoko petite and pretty.

“What would piss Suguru off the most? Me picking you over him.” She whispers then, and you gasp, looking at Satoru.

“But you said no sharing, ever stalker.” He grins at you as you say that, his snowy white hair falls over his brow just so, glinting silver in the lights.

“I’ll give this one exception, it’s a win-win. Watch your pussy get eaten out and Suguru gets fucked? Fucking genius.”

“My pussy… oh.” You’re covering your face with two hands, blushing furiously as they stare at you hungrily now.

“Yeah, sweets, you know one way to test it.” She picks up her phone then, and your heart is pounding as she video chats Suguru. You watch as he pops up on the video then, and she sips her drink, looking positively devious. Satoru’s sliding his hand under your skirt, rubbing over your panties, and you look up at him, wide eyed.

“You like that idea, little slut.” He hums, pressing in, and your eyes flutter shut as you get wetter, against his finger pressing your clit now. You struggle to focus, faintly hearing Suguru’s voice, then Shoko aims the camera towards you, and she kisses your cheek then.

“The fuck? Why are you there?” Suguru asks, and Shoko laughs, throaty and sexy, that mixed with Satoru’s finger sliding under your skirt brazenly in a damn bar is making you tremble. It slips under your panties now, finding you hot and slick, and your hips buck up.

It’s so naughty you can’t stand it, how amazing it feels to have his touch, a secret one in a crowded bar you work at. It’s hard to remember Suguru exists at times, not when Satoru is bending down, whispering in your ear. Not when he’s sliding that finger between your lips, and you’re biting back a moan, his other hand splaying the expanse of your waist, pressing in.

Fuck you’re wet.

“I’m here visiting her, of course. You know, she’s just too yummy, isn’t she, Satoru?” Shoko’s intent is clear, and you can’t even face Suguru right now.

“Shoko, what are you even doing. I’ll come and-”

“Nah, we’re headed out soon. R & R, you know. I could video it for you, Suguru, isn’t that what you forced on her while you were whoring around?”

“You don’t know… I didn’t… Shoko, just me and you talk please. I don’t need them there.”

“Well, then leave her alone and sure, I’ll talk to you. Can you do that, can you leave this girl the fuck alone?”

“I was just upset I… yes, if you’ll talk to me, please.”

“Pathetic.” Satoru murmurs behind you, his finger pressing in now, and you start pulsing around it as it curls up.

“Fine then, keep your word. But I’m totally thinking of eating your ex out tonight, does that upset you, Sugu?” She says with a mock pout, and you fade out the rest of their conversation, because Satoru’s fingers are hitting far too good, and he’s moaning softly, turning your knees weak.

“T-Toru…” You murmur, you know no one can see his hand but you wonder if they can see that pleasure on your face. You grip the arm that’s wrapped around you tightly as Shoko and Suguru go at it.

“So wet for me, aren’t you baby? Pretty little fucking… whore… all for me… say it baby.” He’s pumping in and out as he barely speaks, so quiet it’s like he’s in your damn head, and you try to stop your eyes from rolling back, as your nipples press against your corset, begging for more, and your cunt is soaking his hand fully now.

“For you.” You say softly, and he groans now, sending shivers down your spine as he presses that spongy little spot, right in your tight walls.

“Remember, even if she eats you out, I'm letting her, because you're all mine, yeah? You’re all mine, forever… can’t ever fucking leave.”

“Fuck you’re toxic…” He snorts at that, but you agree, nodding again. “I’ll do anything you want me to.”

“Oh yeah?” You nod again, then Shoko hangs up finally, smiling at the two of you as her eyes rake over your body.

“You two are already playing, I see. Hmm…” She comes in front of you, bending down to kiss you then, and you feel Satoru pumping even harder as she does. “So don't you have a date?”

You struggle to speak, as Satoru is playing you so damn perfectly. “I… y-yeah, we do.”

“I’ve already got a limo for the date, let me take you home, you two can play on the way. I have drinks and everything.” Satoru says softly. “But just once, and remember-”

“Yours. Damn he's psycho.” You giggle at that but then gasp as his fingers press in deeper and Shoko kisses you once more.

“Fuck thats hot. Let's go, now.” Satoru grumbles.

“Lemme say bye to Cho!” Satoru sighs.

“I'll say bye too.” Shoko teases, and Satoru reluctantly pulls his fingers out, sucking on them, making you throb now, thighs shifting as you watch him, elegant fingers in between his lips. Your mouth is open, earning his sharp grin, only for Shoko to drag you to the bar, but you feel Satoru's gaze burn a damn hole in your back.

Soon you’re in Satoru’s limo, which was far too big and luxurious, the only time you’d been in one is prom, and he’s lounging right beside you, pushing champagne into your mouth. You sip it eagerly, as he watches you, blue eyes glowing even in the dark of the limo, lit up with a rope of LEDs, as Shoko preps to take another shot of tequila, looking at you then.

“Satoru, can I take a shot off her tits?” She asks, and he chuckles, running his hands down your shoulders.

“Please do. I should take one too.” He murmurs, and you take the shot now, putting it between your breasts, making Satoru moan as his lashes lower, long fingers running down your breasts where they’re full and high with your corset. “Fuck you’re sexy, so slutty too bet you’ve done this.”

“Of course I have, you mad, Toru?” You push him playfully, making him grip a wrist, as he licks it, making you shiver. Shoko pours a little salt on your wrist, then takes one of the limes off the plates there.

“Watching you two is like porn, jesus. Open this pretty mouth, sweets.” She says, and you do so, taking the rind of the lime in your mouth now, and Satoru licks the salt of your wrist now, before burying his face against your breasts, sucking the shot down his throat.

You watch that adams apple bob, so fucking sexy, just a drip of tequila running down his throat now, and he then takes the lime in his teeth, the juices dripping down your chin. You’re so eager for him you can’t stand it, it’s like every movement your psycho… maybe boyfriend!?... takes is like sex itself. He gently takes the lime from your mouth now, lapping his tongue along your jawline.

You moan softly, as he licks all the juice off, until he gets to your mouth, and you taste the bite of that agave on his tongue, you greedily kiss him back, meeting his tongue stroke for stroke. He’s got his big hand on your cheek, sliding back to your hair and pulling, moaning softly as he does.

“Y’know, I tasted her first, yeah?” Shoko says, and he turns and pulls away, lips smacking as he does, glaring at her.

“Shoko!” You say, and she just chuckles behind her hand.

“You’re such a bitch. I bet I eat pussy so much better.” He says, and she rolls her eyes, coming to you and licking your wrist now.

“Bet I do. You always had to be perfect at everything, little shit.” She salts your wrist and he scoffs, rolling his blue eyes. Something about their friendship seems so natural and real, they just react differently than Suguru had with her, it was like they were truly friends despite perhaps a mistake in the past.

“How’d you all have sex? No offense, I can’t see it.” You said then, and Shoko grimaces, as Satoru shivers in disgust.

“Oh god we were wasted, and I had a bad break up. We were like nineteen, then, just so young. I barely remember more than it sucked.” She says, and Satoru snorts as he sits next to you, brushing your hair back behind your ears, placing a shot glass back between your breasts now.

“I don’t remember much except the next morning we were so disgusted, we said we’d never bring it up. It was like two seconds in before we both thought, the fuck are we doing.” Satoru says.

“Oh… I noticed that night how you all seemed just like friends fully. Whereas Suguru…”

“Fuck Suguru. That’s what I’ll take the shot to.” Shoko says, and you and Satoru grin.

“Cheers to that. Also I’m putting this on Insta, let’s make him suffer some more, yeah?” Satoru says, filming on the phone then, and Shoko grins, then she is licking your wrist, before taking the shot from your breasts, gulping it down her delicate throat, then Satoru takes the glass as she bites the fresh slice of lime.

When she takes it away she’s kissing you, and Satoru cuts off the video, as he comes to pull on your hair, pricking pain tears in your eyes, and you gasp as Shoko teasingly swirls her tongue in your mouth. Satoru yanks you then, slamming his lips upon your own, overtaking your already addled senses, as the alcohol warms your tummy and desire hits it.

When he pulls back, you remember the time with Suguru, and expect them to kiss, but they’re just hungrily staring at you. “Do you all not wanna kiss or anything?” You ask curiously, they both look disgusted then.

“Don’t make us.” Shoko says, and you laugh as Satoru rolls his eyes again, running a fingertip down your chin.

“I only want you, evil little brat that you are.” He says huskily, kissing you again now, spreading your thighs. “But I do want to watch you, watch that pretty face cum, feel you…”

“Fuck.” You whine out now, and Satoru is behind you, you’re on his lap as Shoko is between your thighs, shoving up your skirt now. Satoru has your chin tilted as he leans forward, so tall and lanky, to watch your face now. “Satoru…”

“Remember you’re mine.” He says, and you nod, as you then turn to look down at Shoko, brushing her silky hair back, as she looks up at you. She licks her lips, and you can feel the heat building between your thighs.

"You're so beautiful," she says, her voice a low purr.

You can feel Satoru's hands sliding down your hips, before they hook in your panties, shoving them down your legs, as Shoko finishes taking them off, gliding them down your ankles. You feel Satoru’s breath against your cheek, as his hardness presses against your ass, and Shoko’s sweet breath tickles your thigh.

“You are so beautiful, so beautiful it fucking kills me. All of you.” Satoru says, husky then, and Shoko's hands glide up your legs. Her mouth is hot and wet as it touches your inner thigh, and you gasp, your eyes closing involuntarily.

“You both are so hot, fuck.” You whine, and they both laugh a bit, tickling your skin even more, you’re a trembling fucking mess as Satoru holds you so tight with one arm around your waist.

As Shoko continues to kiss and lick higher and higher, you’re running one hand down her shoulder, down soft skin, as the other reaches back to Satoru’s face, leaning your head back at an angle to look at him. Desire flaring on his face as he looks right at you, like you’re the only thing in his world, like you are his world, and it takes your breath away.

You can't help but arch your back, your body begging for more, pressing further against his hard body and up for her kisses. Satoru's hand moves up to cup your breast, his thumb playing with your nipple, sending waves of pleasure through you along with Shoko teasing your clit with her tongue, looking up at you, her long nails pressing into your inner thighs.

“Oh my god! Mnh…” You cry out now, making her smile against you, you feel the upturn of her lips.

"You like that, baby?" Satoru whispers, his voice full of satisfaction. You nod, unable to form coherent words when Shoko's mouth moves lower, and you can feel her breath against your entrance, making you shiver. She looks up at you, her dark eyes filled with lust.

"Ready for me to get serious, sweets?" She asks, and you nod again, throat constricted as Satoru yanks one of your breasts out of that top, pinching your nipples hard.

With a wicked grin, Shoko dives in, her tongue parting your folds and sliding inside you. You cry out, the sensation so intense that you're not sure if you can handle it. But as she starts to move, as she explores and tastes, you find yourself lost in the moment, unable to think about anything but the pleasure she's giving you, and the man allowing it.

You can feel Satoru's hand moving down to grip your hip, his other hand tangling in your hair as he guides your head back. His mouth is on yours again, claiming you, possessing you, as if to remind you that no matter who else is touching you, you belong to him. And fuck if you don’t realize it, even as you’re getting wetter and wetter, soaking Shoko’s pretty face.

The very limo spins around you as the two of them work in tandem, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, delicate fingers, then rough long ones. You've never felt anything like this before, never been so exposed and so wanted, even in your experiences before. Because now Satoru could act exactly how he wants to, claiming you, all over you, not holding back.

He’s moaning in your ear, pressing up as she continues to bring you higher and higher now, and you’re crying out, your body shaking as you try to keep it together, Satoru’s mouth on yours, Shoko’s tongue in your pussy. You can’t believe what’s happening, but the feeling is so intense that you’re screaming out brokenly in the limo, to their soft sighs and cries.

Shoko’s tongue swirls around your clit, and you moan louder, your body arching off Satoru’s lap at it, then his hand moves up to your throat, squeezing gently, that perfect pressure he knows. “You’re close, aren’t you little slut?”

“Y-yes, close, close.” You whisper, as Satoru is gripping your hips, moving them and controlling your movements as you grind against her face, as Satoru bites your neck hard, and you’re shaking as the pain mixes with Shoko’s talented tongue.

“Cum, like a good little whore for me, baby. Let go now.” He orders, and you do just as he says, eating up his words as he wraps a hand around your throat, choking you as he watches you fall apart, hunger all over his face. “Let me see you.”

Satoru’s POV

Satoru feels your little body tense now, as you press against him, two lines between those eyebrows, your face contorted in pleasure, as you’re reddening just a bit when he squeezes even harder. Your pretty eyes roll back, and you gasp for breath as Shoko makes you cum, and he looks down to see you’re gushing all over her, and she’s drinking it up.

Satoru’s precum is sticking to his boxers, his pants as you cum, hips bucking up, your hands gripping his wrist as you look right at him with blown out eyes. Your lips part as you struggle to breath, fuck your life is just in his hands isn’t it? You’re all his, and you seem to know it, even as he lets her bring you to orgasm, you’re looking right at him the entire time.

Satoru could cum right now, but he’ll wait, till you’re all alone. He needs to do so many things to you tonight, now that you’re all his, he needs to make you such a fucking pathetic mess under him. He lets you go now, and you suck up a greedy breath, as Shoko rises, licking her lower lip and smirking at you, and you giggle breathlessly, your lush breasts heaving now.

Satoru takes those breasts in his hands, feeling you shiver against him as he feels their weight in his hands, so fucking perfect. His thumbs brush on your perky nipples now, making them taut as Shoko leans up to kiss you, and fuck if it’s not hot to watch you, kissing her back, your tongues messy, just a tiny bit of saliva dripping between both of you as she cups your face.

You turn to him then, a beautiful blush decorating your cheeks, and you turn your body toward Satoru, cupping his face with your small hands, tenderly, resting your forehead on his. And Satoru knows then, this is so past the obsession and lust, and it’s past falling, Satoru Gojo is madly in love with you.

He’s in love with you.

With you.

You.

He can never let you go, he can never let anything happen to you, fuck he can’t stand the thought of you not in his arms. He doesn’t even know how he’ll work without you there, will he bring you every day and have you warm his cock with your perfect cunt as he works? Will he fuck you over his desk and cum in you over and over, until you’re pregnant?

Will he come to your work every day and watch you, fuck you in that break room so much you’ll trip and fall as you try to be flirtatious in your little outfits? The ones that show too much of that tight fucking body, of your supple curves that constantly make his hands itch to grab you? The ones no one should see.

Should Satoru just hide you away?

No, you love your life too much, and he loves you enough to suffer others seeing you, for now. But the thoughts linger, of just keeping you at his house for him and only him, and bringing you everywhere he goes. He could keep you so fucked out you’d not care, not when he controls your body so well, not when you’re so clearly into him as well.

Feelings for him?

Feelings… for him.

You have them.

How?

Satoru kisses you softly then, exhaling, as you turn in his lap, and one of his hands splays your waist, thumbs pressing into your ribcage. You kiss him so sweetly, over and over, until it takes everything not to fuck into you, but he wants to keep that just for you all, he can’t have someone else, not when he has to lose himself in your every breath, your every sound, every touch.

You’re his now.

“You two are gonna make a baby. I need to get home.” Shoko teases, and he laughs as he watches you giggle, and fuck if it’s not so sweet to hear that throaty little laugh, to watch your face scrunch up so happy for once.

“That was amazing, Shoko. Don’t you want me to return?” You ask her softly now, your delicate fingers brushing back Shoko’s dark hair. She smirks a bit, her eyes going lidded.

“This psycho here is about to lose his shit as it is, but I had fun pleasing you.” She says, and Satoru watches you shift a bit, looking up at him now.

“Toru, don’t you wanna see my skills?” You ask, pouting so pretty, and he chuckles a bit, tapping your nose, why do you make him so stupidly happy, what is it about you?

“You can but I will bury my face in your pussy. I don’t know if I can look at Shoko like that.” Shoko laughs then.

“Same, I don’t wanna watch you two fuck again it was weird. But if you want to, Sweets, you can. Oh fuck my phone has gone crazy.” She picks it up as it’s buzzing, she sits next to you now, laughing. “Suguru is blowing it the fuck up.”

“Oh gosh I hope I didn’t give you a headache.” You say, you always care so much about others, and not enough about yourself, it makes Satoru angry, but at the same time he enjoys this so much about you. He’s kissing up your neck now, you tremble just a bit in his arms, he watches little goosebumps form on your smooth skin, everywhere he touches.

“Nah he’s bullshit for all this. Oh, he’s so fucking mad. He wants to come talk to me now.”

“Would he hurt you?” You ask, and she shakes her head. “Are you sure… I don’t want to-”

“Sweets, I’m good, promise. He won’t do shit except grovel at my feet. Now, I should head to my place so I can deal with him, get him to stop fucking with you both, I hope. If I just explain, Satoru and I are not interested and never have been. Do you think he’s too far gone, Satoru?” Shoko asks then, and Satoru sighs, for he can’t imagine how Suguru could redeem himself after what he’s done to you.

Satoru feels so much intense hatred towards him now, he’d been through so much pain because of a stupid fucking mistake years back, and now you have been through pain. Your first experience was now horrible, ruined for you, so Satoru detests Suguru so much, the one closest to him, but he’s going to make sure he doesn’t get near you ever again.

“I’ll keep her safe, don’t worry, Shoko. If he tries some shit, call me, don’t let him touch you, alright?”

Shoko nods, then leans in to kiss you goodbye, before punching Satoru in the shoulder, making him stick his tongue out at her. You slide off him then, sliding between her legs and slipping up her little black dress, looking to Satoru to get permission, and fuck if you’re not so hot now.

“Once, I’ll allow it. For scientific purposes.” He muses, making you giggle as Satoru tells the driver where to go.

You bend over right in front of him, you still have no panties on, so Satoru slides a finger down your slick folds, making your toned thighs tremble under his touch, he feels those muscles as his free hand runs down them, those calves so tight from your heels you prance around in, to the buckle of that heel still around your ankles.

You clench around his fingers, your soppy little cunt sucking him in when he slides two inside, past that tight entrance, as his other hand slips back up your thigh, gripping your ass, pulling your pussy wider for him. Shoko’s eyes shut in pleasure and she’s screaming out now as you bury your face, and he hears little sounds of you lapping her up.

Fuck you’re sexy, Satoru said he wouldn’t watch, but he’s watching you, and your little hand gripping Shoko’s slender thigh, while your free hand reaches back to Satoru, he takes it and shoves it behind your waist, pressing you further down, and you start gushing around his fingers now. You want him to control you, don’t you? With your little whines mixing with Shoko’s moans filling the limousine.

Shoko’s pulling at your hair, arching her hips up for more, and you’re shuddering as Satoru starts pressing on that spot, your hand sliding up to cup one of Shoko’s breasts, as you bring her higher, Satoru is pressing you closer and closer to your edge once more. You’re pulsing, and fuck he could slip into you now, as he’s holding your delicate wrist so tightly.

You come up for a gasp of air, crying out from his fingers, scissoring in and out of your perfect cunt, hair flowing down your back as you do, then you dive back down and with a couple more flicks Shoko has fallen apart, and she’s cumming on your beautiful face. Satoru lets your wrist go, yanking you up by your hair to look at your face now, soaked and glistening, and you lick your lips with a mischievous little grin.

Satoru swipes at Shoko’s wetness, his eyes drinking you in, and he smirks a bit as he pulls your hair hard, like you enjoy it. “You better have enjoyed that, you’re not doing it again.” He whispers, you whine out pathetically, leaning up to kiss him, but he holds you just a bit off, to keep you needy.

“Never again why, that’s so amazing. Elite.” Shoko muses, adjusting herself then, breathless, but Satoru glares at her. “Yours, I get it crazy.”

“Mmhmm. She enjoys it too much, slutty brat.” Satoru says, kissing you then, and you make this mewling sound from the back of your throat, back to straddling him. Fuck you feel so good in his arms, so good on him, as he inhales that scent, sweet jasmine mixed with your heady arousal. Shoko giggles at you two, grabbing her purse and yanking a pack of cigarettes out.

“Bye you crazy kids.” The limo comes to a stop now, and Shoko stretches, pecking a kiss on your cheek, looking at her phone now. “I think I’ll beat his ass, sounds fun to me.”

“Bye, Shoko, thank you so much.” You say softly, and she smiles, a little sad looking now.

“I still feel like shit, but maybe it’s all for the best, you’ve got psycho ass Satoru now, hmm?” Satoru flips her off, and the two of you just laugh. Shoko waves as she steps out, and Satoru looks down at you, stroking your cheek.

“Ready to go home for a few, baby?”

“Baby, not slut? And home now huh? That’s quick.” You whisper, and he just thinks of you, on his bed, what if you never leave, just stay there naked, waiting. Fuck the thought has him leaking more pre cum, cock straining.

“I have a dress there for you, brat. Can’t have you out in this where we’re going, hot as it is.” You kiss him then, softly, cupping his face.

“Thank you, Toru, that’s thoughtful.” You say, and he scoffs, but at that look in your glittery eyes? Fuck.

“Tch, it’s nothing, I need to dress you up, like my little doll to use.” He says, running his fingers down your arms, and watching you ignite under that touch.

And just like that, Satoru’s world shifts, the anger is a constant, but it’s now tempered with this fierce love for you, and the desire to keep you safe, to keep you in his arms forever. The intense need to fuck you until you can’t remember anything else except for the feeling of him deep inside you, to make you cum until you can’t walk straight.

Fuck he needs to kiss you until you can’t breathe, to make you love him just as much as he loves you, because there was no turning back now, was there? And as the limo starts moving, he’s already thinking of all the ways he’s going to make that happen tonight, all the positions he’ll have you in, all the ways he’ll watch that perfect face in pleasure.

You’re straddling him, your hands on his shoulders as he kisses along your neck, making sure to bite you hard, your skin in his teeth, making you gasp as your head is against his shoulder, feeling his hardness beneath you. Satoru’s hand is squeezing your ass as he whispers into your ear.

“You’re mine, all mine, you know that right?” You exhale, pulling back a bit to look into his eyes.

“You’re so intense, Satoru Gojo. But yes, I know. I made that choice when I called you that night.” You brush back his hair carefully, fuck your touch feels so good to him, it’s hard to take. “Satoru…”

“Mmm, what brat?” He asks, squishing your breasts in his hand and watching your expression.

“Tell me something no one else knows about you.” And for a moment, Satoru Gojo is surprised, his eyes flickering to the side, for you’ve caught him off guard. He thinks of so much he wants to tell you, about himself, but he doesn’t even know where to start.

“That photo, I stole it from Suguru’s phone when you started dating.” He says, and you suck in a breath, eyes going wide. “It’s one of you in lingerie, that outfit that has crotchless panties and your tits out. The amount of times I’ve cum to it…”

“Yeah, you did? Stroke yourself to it?” You whisper as you grind on him, and he moans, yanking you even closer and pressing up, feeling the heat of your eager cunt against his clothed cock.

“I’m breaking you in half tonight for this fucking mouth. Still taste Shoko on you, you know that?” He huffs, and watches your eyes dilate, the pupils overtaking your lighter irises, like a little ring now.

“Do you like that too, Satoru?” You ask softly, and he exhales, pressing up again, watching your head tilt back, exposing more of your pretty throat for his kisses, his bites, his tongue as your heat enwraps his cock.

“Nothing like your taste, evil little brat. You consume me.” He grabs your waist as he keeps licking a trail up the side of your neck, he feels your nipples pressing against his chest. “I would picture fucking you on my desk, would stroke myself in my office looking at it.”

“You need more pictures of me, huh?” You tease, and he sighs, nodding, as the Limo stops once more.

“I have a set for you to wear, under that dress. I’ll tie you up and do a photoshoot like that.” You blush right in front of him, even in the dark, and he smiles at that. “Never been tied up?”

“Of course I haven’t been, crazy. You mean my wrists?” You ask, narrowing your eyes a bit.

“Nah, entire fucking body. Hang you from my ceiling. You blush everywhere, you know?”

“Shush. Letting your crazy ass tie me up seems like a bad decision, what if you keep me tied up!?” He smirks up at you, it’s like you’re reading his goddamn mind, of his baser instincts that he shoves deep down.

“Only one way to find out, but that’s after the date. We’re here, c’mon.” He taps your hips now, and the driver opens the door. Satoru stands and tips him, letting him know to wait for a while, before giving you his hand to step out, when you step in the house he can’t help but press you against a wall, slamming his lips down on yours brutally.

You melt into his arms, lips so pliable and sweet, and Satoru briefly considers fucking you against that wall, but he wants to make you beg, plead, and you’re already close to it. You whine out, reaching down to rub his aching cock now, making Satoru even harder, sticking to his fucking boxers, pressing into your hand.

“Let me suck you for a bit first, please?” You ask softly, and he chuckles just a bit, as he brushes his thumb down your full lower lip.

“Then get on your knees, you can see what you’ve been doing to me all damn day.” You drop right to your knees, and Satoru takes one hand, pulling at your hair as one braces on the wall, and you’re unzipping him, opening your mouth eagerly, Satoru shoves your face on him, feeling the back of your throat, so wet and tight. “Oh my… f-fuck… that’s it, take it down that throat.”

You’re sucking and licking so eagerly, as he uses your throat, looking down at eyes watering with tears that trickle down the corners, landing on your long lashes, dripping to your cheeks. You are so fucking beautiful when you cry, aren’t you? Satoru feels your throat constricting around his length as you suck a breath through your nose, just like he showed you.

“Wanna know how often I came to that picture?” You whine, nodding now and pulling back just a bit to suck him, lapping his precum out of his tip hungrily.

“Please tell me, please.” You beg, voice hoarse from his cock, then he pulls your hair even harder, hips snapping his cock into that perfect throat again and again, you make his entire body shiver with pleasure, as his mind wanders, eyes rolling back in his head at how perfect you feel.

“I would lay in bed at night, picturing all the ways I would have you, how I’d suck, bite and kiss your skin until you’re black and fucking blue. Pinch those nipples so hard they’re swollen, then I’d beat that nice little ass of yours too, hit it over and over till you’re covered in my handprints- ah fuck!”

You’re moaning around him, bobbing on him so good, fuck you’re such a good girl, aren’t you for him? Satoru pulls out then, your cheeks hollow as you suck so hard, until he pulls out with a pop, and sees you’re covered with slobber and drool, dazed out eyes eating him up from down there.

“Satoru do we really need a date?” You ask, and he is tilting your chin up, to stroke your cheek, as he leans down.

“You demanded one, needy little brat. My dick gets you that horny, doesn’t it?” You pout, nodding, and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, fuck you make him stupidly happy, don’t you?

“The words more than anything, but of course this.” You kitten lick his tip, and he sucks in a breath at that, pulling back at how sensitive he is now.

“Well if you’re a good girl I’ll show you some of what I’ve wanted to do.” He eases you up now, and watches as you nearly fall, and he gives you a smirk. “Can’t even walk from sucking me? Why are you so pathetic, hmm?”

“You make me this way.” You kiss him then, and he tastes himself, your tongue still has his precum on it, making him moan. “You have good self control, I am afraid mine is shit.”

“Oh baby I’ve had to watch you for so long, I’m patient now.” You blink a bit now, lashes casting shadows under your eyes, where he notices you’ve put concealer to hide those circles you have lately. But it’s not like he’ll let you get any sleep, will he? “There’s a box on the kitchen counter, if you’re not too fucked out to make it there.”

“Fuck off, Toru.” You scowl, and he laughs at you as you stomp over to the kitchen now, taking the black box with blue ribbon, opening it, then you gasp. “Oh my, it's so gorgeous… it’s so fancy!”

“Go put it on. But look under it.” You lift the tissue paper, then he watches your face flush, as you lift the black lace. “You’ll wear that under the dress.”

“Yes, sir.” You’re teasing but you’re making his cock hard again, fuck Satoru is just edging himself, but it’s not like he doesn’t enjoy to do that anyway, to tease his tip and play and play until he hurt. Now you’re right here, and you’re looking up at him, a smile lighting up your face, and it stabs him in the chest.

Satoru Gojo doesn’t hate you.

Satoru Gojo never did.

Hate, no…

He’s loved you since he saw you.

Your POV

You never hated Satoru Gojo, did you?

No, quite the opposite.

As you sit next to him that night in this fancy, beautiful little restaurant, cozy and intimate in a red plush booth together, and you look at him as he studies the menu, it’s like something clutches at your heart. He’s so heartbreakingly beautiful, with his smooth, perfect skin, those high cheekbones, those pouty lips that are pursed as he thinks of what he wants.

The soft lighting of the restaurant makes his skin shimmer, the intimate glow of the table lighting casting little reflections in the hollows of his cheeks, casting a striking shadow. His hair is freshly brushed back, but just a bit falls in the front of his forehead, making your fingers itch to brush it back now, but he is brushing it back with long, elegant fingers.

He’s in this three piece suit, a dark blue, and you’re in a glittery navy blue dress, that hugs your curves perfectly, as if Satoru had measured you inch for inch. It has a slit that goes daringly up one thigh, revealing a garter that was pink leather with a metal heart. Satoru had rolled his eyes as you had squealed in excitement at the fact he’d gotten you something pink.

“You staring at me?” He says then, in that husky voice so teasing and conceited, his swirling blue eyes locking on yours, making your mouth go dry. You swallow a bit, nodding then, watching his lips turn up on one corner.

“Can’t help it, too gorgeous.” Your voice is soft, but you see just a hint of pink on his cheekbones, before he scoffs.

“Of course I am. Look at you though.” His gaze flickers, and you feel his looks like a caress as they rest on your neck, then to your collarbone, then lower and lower, heat pooling in your tummy. “Surprised we made it out of the house with you in this. This is how I would dress you, like my doll.”

“Your doll, hmm?” You whisper, he lets out a quiet sigh, leaning close and kissing you gently, just a brush of his sweet lips. “Is that freaky talk, Toru?”

“Maybe you’ll see later tonight. You’ll be up all night, better order something good to fill you up before I do.” You’re a mess now, squirming in your seat, thighs rubbing together as you crave friction, crave him. “Want me to order for you?”

“Please? I’m used to like… a winghouse or something.”

“Gotta get used to finer things.”

“You’ll keep me around, hmm?” Your hand rests on his muscled thigh, and he leans closer to you now, you inhale that expensive, tantalizing cologne in your nostrils, making them flare just a bit.

“You’re not going anywhere. Did you think I’d let you go so easy?” He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him, your leg over his own as he keeps looking at the menu.

“Do you still hate me, Toru?” You ask, and he looks away then, as if contemplating something. You wonder at times if you’ll ever get in his head.

“I never hated you.” You blink in surprise then, in shock almost, gasping as he then holds up two fingers and three waiters clamor over, all women who are dying for a chance to serve him. “White or red wine?”

“Pink.” You snort as he scowls at you, then sighs, looking over at the wine menu and running a finger down it.

“A bottle of Rose, please.”

“Yay!”

He glares again, and you’re laughing behind your hand. “Then we’ll start with the Duck Pâté en Croûte…”

“Duck!?”

“Shut it, prissy brat. Let the master work here.” You just watch him, as he speaks oddly perfect french. “Also the cake d’alsace to start, then we’ll have filet mignons for the main course, pick whatever side you think is best here.”

“Yes, of course, such a good choice Mr. Gojo!” One of the pretty waitresses says, and he just looks back at you, smiling a bit.

“Dessert we’ll do the creme brulee and chocolate mousse. I think that’s everything we need for the night.” He hands them the menus, and they eagerly bounce off, well two of them, one leans forward to whisper in his ear, and he tenses a bit, before glaring at her. “I tip insanely well especially if you don’t flirt with me while I’m with my girlfriend.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry… Mr. Gojo…” She blushes and runs off, and you look at him in surprise, smiling then.

“I’m your girlfriend, hmm?” He rolls his pretty eyes, long snowy lashes fluttering as he sighs.

“I won’t ask you.”

“Oh then maybe I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Then ask.” You both glare now, and then you laugh, caressing his face with your fingers softly. “I’m kidding. ‘Oh of course I’ll date you, Satoru’ there.”

“Didn’t ask.” You nudge him playfully, drooling practically at his smile.

“You’re so handsome when you’re smiling you know.” He pouts again, narrowing his eyes, and you sigh. “No really, I love it.”

“Yeah yeah, simp so hard for me, don’t you.” You roll your eyes at him, as they bring the bottle and appetizers, he pours you a glass himself, tilting the glass just so, before handing it to you.

“Maybe I do simp for you.” You admit, and he’s grinning again, he tries to hide it but it’s of no use, Satoru is having fun, and so are you.

Who would have thought.

His hand comes to cup your face, as he holds a little morsel of that crazy fancy food on a silver fork, and you part your lips, letting him pop it between. You chew then, eyes shutting, moaning a bit. “Fuck that’s yummy.”

“It is yummy.” He murmurs, and you gasp when he has slid a hand up your bare thigh, under the thick white tablecloth, making your body tense with stark desire. Your eyes open to see him studying you, those eyes so damn intense it’s hard to take. “So you tell me something no one knows.”

“You actually wanna get to know me? Because I’m your girlfriend?” You tease, only earning a rough squeeze on your thigh, bruising as he presses you down into that seat, making you so wet you can’t stand it. You want him so damn bad it hurts.

“You’re mine. Yes, you should tell me things now.”

“So demanding.” You scoff, as does he, then you sigh, taking a sip of the sweet Rose, with it’s tart aftertaste tickling your tongue. “Okay, well my parents um… left me when I was young.”

Satoru pauses then, his brows lowering. “Fuck them.”

You smile at that. “Yeah, they left me with my grandparents, who were sweet but we were very low income. I got picked on for having no money, for not having nice things, so I didn’t have many friends.”

“Fuck them too.” He sips his wine, and you raise your glass.

“Cheers to that.” Your glasses click, and fuck it feels good just to speak to him, for once no insane drama looming over you all. “So I ended up working my ass off from a young age, I bought what I could to sort of fit in, then I guess… boys started finding me pretty, so I ended up popular by default towards the end of high school. But I never felt like I fit in.”

“Why the Barbie bimbo aesthetic?”

“Well I never had barbies growing up, I had nothing really. So I sort of idolized her, she could do anything. I should show you my special collection.”

“No thanks.” You stick your tongue out and he smiles softly, hand soft on your skin again. “If you must.”

“I must, I collect all sorts of them, from the fifties and everything. Mmm, so yummy…” He’s putting another bite in your mouth now.

“So you got popular later. And you own that house don’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“I may have looked it up online and saw you on the deed.” You lean back, glaring up at him now, and he shrugs, taking a bite and looking far too sexy doing so. “What, can’t I be curious?”

“How often did you watch me?”

“Just at night, I worried someone would stalk you.”

“Like you!?”

“No, someone terrible who’d hurt you.” You look up at the fancy ceiling with all the hanging chandeliers then.

“No more of that, got it?”

“If you move in.”

“Satoru!”

“It’s for your own good. Hush now.” He’s slipping his hand between your thighs now, where you’re hot and soaking wet, and he moans softly, as your hips rock against your better judgement. “You like it, stop fucking lying. You like me so obsessed with you I can’t think.”

“Fuck off.” It’s true, there’s something mentally wrong with both of you, you lean your head on his shoulder then, clinging to his silky blue tie and crying out when he finds your sensitive clit with a rough finger in little circles.

“I won’t have to as much now that you’re mine.”

“That’s so… toxic… mmm…” He hums just a bit, pulling that finger back and sucking on it like it’s dessert, your mouth positively waters.

“So you had shit parents, and a rough childhood. That kind of explains the overt daddy issues.”

“Oh whatever. You wanted to be called daddy.” You whisper in his ear, nipping the lobe then, enjoying that suck in of his breath.

“Fuck you, brat.”

“Mmm, you should. Edging yourself all damn night.”

“Just wait, fuck you’re impatient.”

Your hand slides up his lap now, over his cock, and he jolts then, as you tease him right back.

You don’t make it for dessert, that is in the to-go boxes now.

Satoru strips you down, the dress slithering off your body as he avidly stares at you, as it falls to a pool around your ankles, onto the floor of his bedroom. Satoru exhales, stepping back and holding your hands, pulling you toward his giant bed now, eyes devouring you in the lingerie. Your breasts are spilling out, and it’s barely covering anything.

Your first instinct is to cover up just a bit, then Satoru is picking you up in his arms, carrying you and hoisting you up on the bed to sit, hands trembling just slightly as they work down your breasts, your waist, your hips. He squeezes your breasts, bending down and licking your nipples through the black lace, your head falls back as it feels so damn good you can’t take it.

Satoru’s free hand slinks across your tummy, it trembles under his touch, until it goes to your throat, cupping you under your chin and looking down at you. “I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you pick. Tie you up, overstimulate you, or I could cause you so much pain, leave you marked everywhere for me. What does my greedy brat want?”

You’re so nervous you’re shaking, as you want it but you don’t even know what he’s talking about, what all it means. “Um… let’s try the pain?”

“You’re cute.” He says softly, tapping your nose, then he leaves for just a few and comes back, with a wood paddle and whips, and you’re even more nervous when you see little nipple clamps and a silver dangling chain that connects them. “Nervous?”

“Y-yeah. I’m new to this sort of thing.”

“Suguru is vanilla huh?”

“I don’t wanna think of that.” Satoru sighs at that.

“You wish it never happened?” He attaches a collar to your throat, it looks like some goth choker Cho would wear with a chain, then he tugs firmly, pulling your breasts out of the cups of the lingerie, running the cold metal on them, making you gasp.

“I only don’t regret the time with both of you, because that was our first time, wasn’t it, Toru? Mmm…” His eyes flicker with emotion then, and you watch him gulp, before he’s easing the clamps, and you’re whimpering. “Ah- ah… Toru…”

“Our first time to me was that night you came to me. Because that’s when I got to do what I really wanted. All by myself, the only way it should be.” His husky voice gets rougher as he twists the clamps, and they’re steadily pinching your nipples now, getting hard between them. “Fuck they look pretty like this. I can’t wait to suck on them after, you’ll be so bruised.”

“Toru do you even use a safe word?” He chuckles, as he places little kisses down your throat, tickling your skin.

“Sure we can, let it be barbie. But you’ll like it, you’ll do so good for me, a perfect girl won’t you?” You nod eagerly, and then he’s flipping you over, letting your legs dangle off the bed, you’re still in your black heels you notice, but he’s down there, taking them off, one by one. “If you can take ten hits I’ll get you off with my mouth, if you can’t you’ll be choking on my cock. Got it?”

“I’m good with either- ow fuck!” He smacks the fuck out of you now, on your right ass cheek with a paddle, making you glare back at him, while he looks hungry, licking his lips.

“You’ll address me better than that. C’mon, baby, y’know what to call me.” He says, caressing that cheek now, it stings and burns.

Satoru’s POV

“Yes, Sir?” You ask tentatively, bracing for another hit, and he smirks behind you, as he watches you bent over.

“Arch that ass back more. There.” He cooes as you press it up, your ass and hips like some perfect heart over his bed. “I’d brace yourself.”

“Shit-ah!” You cry out as he smacks your other cheek, watching it jiggle perfectly as he’s hit you hard, the sound resounding in his quiet room with a loud smack. You’re shivering, head buried. “Was sir not right?”

“No, baby, it wasn’t right. But it’s okay, I’m enjoying this view.” Both of your ass cheeks have red whelps, and he’s stripping down slowly, loosening his tie and his belt buckle as he’s straining against his boxers. “How should you address me baby?”

“D-daddy. Ah!” He smacks you again, this time lower on your cheek, but not quite as hard, and you’re moaning, shifting your hips, he sees those puffy lips of your cunt so perfectly where your thighs have a gap, and he’s sliding his finger between them for just a moment, groaning as you whimper. “Please…”

“Please what, brat? You have six more. You determine how hard they are.” You take a breath, looking back at him with pretty tears in your eyes, making him even harder.

“Please touch me more, Daddy.” He moans at that, at how that name sounds from your lips, images of him making you a mommy fucking killing him. Now he’s envisioning you pregnant, and he’s yanking his shirt off, suddenly too hot.

“If you don’t make a noise for the next two I will. Can you, slutty little girl?” You nod eagerly, bracing yourself again, fuck you’re adorable, aren’t you? “It’ll hurt less if you relax.” He grips your hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples in your lower back, and you exhale, softening your stance. “Ready?”

You nod, then he hits you hard, right between your ass cheeks, over your overheating cunt, and he hears you suck in a breath, burying your face, but you don’t make a noise. He’s so proud of you, especially when he smacks you again, right on your thighs, where he knows it will hurt more, but you’re just quietly moaning into his blankets.

“You’re such a good girl. I don’t think you need more hits.” He puts his paddle down then, and caresses your ass cheeks, covered in red marks, but you look back at him again, lust overtaking your gorgeous face.

“I wanna be s’good for you, Daddy.” You whisper, then arch your back out more. “I can take the rest.”

Fuck.

“You can take four more? You sure, brat?”

“I can do it, promise.”

You like it, fuck you like it don’t you? Satoru bends down on his knees now, kissing where he’s marked, his breath merely teasing your cunt, fuck he’s wanted to lick it all night, but he wants you a mess, and you’re becoming one for him. He stands back up, grabbing the whip instead, stepping back and angling it on your right cheek, leaving another welp.

You keep your noises in, but he sees it, the wetness drooling from your cunt. “You’re making a mess, these carpets are expensive.”

“S-sorry, Daddy.” You’re so good, fuck.

“Three more, you ready?” You nod, and he smacks you again, again, then again… and you nearly fall, he has to wrap an arm around you before you collapse, knees knocking. Satoru cups your face gently, eyes searching yours for any sort of pain or fear, but your eyes…

They’re glazed over with desire, dilated.

“You did so good, baby.” He says softly, and your tears fall down your pretty face in streaks, as you sniffle, clinging to him then, slamming your lips on his, nearly knocking him to the floor with the ferocity.

“Please, please, please.” You whisper fervently, Satoru gently places you up in the center of his bed now, leaning over you on his arms, struck by your beauty as you’re sobbing under him.

“I’ll take care of you baby. I’ll take care of you.” He says softly, and watches as you sniffle, as your hips arch up, your ass must be throbbing huh? But you’re clinging to him desperately, then he’s kissing your lips, drinking in the rest of your sweet cries, tasting those salty tears, before he’s spreading your thighs, kissing down your throat, his mouth watering as he thinks of your pussy on his mouth again.

“Toru… need you. Need you.”

Fuck you need him?

Well Satoru needs you, on him, under him, a fucking mess.

Perfect.

Your POV

Satoru’s looking up at you with those beautiful blue eyes, and your ass is pulsating with brutal pain, but it only enhances your need for him, of how much you crave this man. He’s so sweet now, such a fucking contradiction, as he parts your glistening lips and swipes his tongue up, you damn near cum from just that, thighs shaking as you scream out.

He moans softly against you, his hands shoving your thighs up as his tongue swirls your clit, before he's sucking it into his mouth. You scream out in pleasure, hands entwining in his snowy white hair, as he hums on it and you feel the pleasure shooting through your body, mixed with the pain of the clamps and your stinging ass cheeks.

Satoru laps you up as you cum all over his face, drinking you with an eager tongue, now he is reaching up, tightening the clamps. The pain just makes you wetter as he then pulls on that chain, and it constricts your breath just so, on either side of your throat, licking more and more fervently. You damn near can't take it, it's too many sensations at once, along with his blue eyes that look so lovingly at you.

You cum harder this time, this orgasm making your hips buck as you gush all over his mouth. Satoru moans, sliding up now and pinching your nipples again, you feel the tears start all over at the pain, and he looks at you so adoringly, so intensely, brushing your tears aside.

“Yeah, does it hurt baby?” You nod, jerky movements as your thighs quiver around his hips, and you feel that hot length on your inner thigh. “Want me to take em off? Gotta ask nicely.”

“Please d-daddy… mouth.” You're reduced to broken, nonsensical statements, yet again. Satoru makes you lose your sense of self, you forget how to move those lips.

“Okay baby. I'll take care of them.” He whispers, pulling the clamps off to reveal bruising nipples, which he tenderly kisses. You gasp, back arching into the hot embrace, jerking back when he sucks one into his mouth, so sore and aching you are crying more. “Mmm… you know how pretty you are crying?”

“Am I, Daddy?”

“You're so pretty. That mascara running down these cheeks… aw look, they're so puffy and red.” He pinches your nipples, and you let out shaky sobs as he cooes over you mockingly. But you're even wetter, hands reaching for his hips, pulling him down.

“Please, inside… me. Please oh please.” You whisper, pleadingly looking up at his pretty face, and his eyes dilate until they're so dark, and he is pulling your hips up as he holds his cock at the base, rubbing on your clit, making your face scrunch up in pleasure as it hits, you cum just when his tip presses in.

Satoru sucks a sore nipple again, eyes watching as you’re crying in pain, before shoving his cock inside you, so many fucking inches snug in your entrance, hitting your cervix on the first damn thrust. He releases your collar now, your cunt tightening around his cock as he slams into you, so deep, so rough, that you're sure he's going to split you in half.

But oh it feels so good, like nothing you’ve ever felt before, as you fall more into Satoru, the man that watches you, that stole pictures, that looked up your damn house. The same man that turned down a pretty waitress right in front of you, that’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the goddamn world, as his cock wrecks your pussy, and he wrecks your fucking mind.

You can't stop screaming, your throat hoarse as he hits that spot so good, that spot that makes your eyes roll back into your head, his thick leaky tip pressing again and again, until he’s flipped you, and you’re on top. You rock your hips, rolling them and resting your hands on his chest, and he’s moaning as he fucks up into you, sucking on your sore nipples, biting them and making tears fall down onto his face.

He’s fucking you so hard, you're bouncing on his cock, those bruised cheeks smacking against his hard thighs as you are slammed down his length, his hands brutal on your hips. Your thighs are sticky with your cum, dripping down to his stomach, mixing with his sweat in precum, sounding so loud and squishing so fucking obscene. Satoru slides his hands up your breasts, pinching them and making you shiver as you struggle to move.

“You’re so good for me, so fucking perfect. All mine, all fucking mine, aren’t you?” He whispers, yanking you down then, gripping your ass that’s covered in whelps, as you fall against his chest, your hair falling like a curtain to the side of you both.

“Yours, m’yours Toru.” You say softly, and he gasps then, his eyes fluttering shut, as you kiss him desperately, tongues entwining so fucking sloppy, and he’s steadily thrusting slower, but deeper, impossibly, you think you’ll break from it.

“Wanna be my little doll?” You nod eagerly, having no clue what he means. “Then stay really still, and don’t speak, can you? Let me use you.” You nod again, and Satoru groans, his movements getting erratic as he lifts your hips up and fucks into you, and you scream out, making him smack your cheek just slightly. “Stay still, dolls can’t move don’t you know?”

You get even wetter as you try to stay still, as Satoru cups your face, looking so deeply in your eyes, his cock making your inner walls throb, so fucking sore but you want more, more, more. You stay so quiet, tears still falling as his big hands brutally use your ass to bounce you, and your eyes roll back, as you bite your lip so hard you break the skin.

“That’s it, good girl. Good girl, my little doll. Just mine.” He cups your face then, flipping you, shoving your thighs up so high you’re going to be so sore, the stretch delicious as he presses you down with his weight. “I’m gonna fill my pretty doll up, that’s what you’re good for, cumming in, hmm?”

You don’t answer, and he grins, shoving his cock back in, holding your thighs down as he cups your face, eyes drinking you in as you’re sobbing at how good it feels, your nipples against his chest, his body dripping with sweat, your ass scraping against the blankets. He’s hitting that spot inside you, the one only he can hit, making you scream against your will.

“Sorry, sorry…” You whisper, and he huffs then, shaking his head, gulping as he grips your face so goddamn tight, squeezing your fucking skull.

“You’re mine, all mine. Aren’t you?” You nod eagerly, and he moans, and you can feel him thicken and throb, as he presses in so deep it hurts, and you’re shaking everywhere as you struggle to stay on this Earth, as Satoru becomes your Earth, your universe, your everything.

“Y-yours, all yours. Yours.” He moans then, kissing you before he’s coming deep inside you, your body milking him, making him pulse out everything he’s got, and he moans so loud, his cheeks flushing.

“Take all this cum, wanna get you pregnant baby. Yeah?”

“Yes, please… please.” You’re gripping him so tightly, cupping his face as he is, as he pumps you so goddamn full, filling you everywhere with those hot sticky ropes of cum, until you’re both trembling messes, kissing desperate, messy, sloppy.

And when he’s done, his cock still deep, his eyes closed for just a moment before he blinks and looks at you, caressing your hair and looking at you like that? When you’re sobbing into his neck, feeling so empty and so full at the same time. “It’s okay baby, I got you. You did so good, you know that?”

“Satoru…” You’re huffing, your cheeks reddened, your eyes watery, as he eases your legs down, still nestled snug in your cunt, aftershocks making you both gasp, both whine.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He kisses your forehead, but you shake your head then, for once all this drama of Suguru, of everything was shoved back, and only one thing was completely clear.

“Satoru… I… I love you.” You whisper then, between your tears, a mumble, and Satoru Gojo pulls up, resting on his hands over you, his blue eyes wide.

Shit…

ao3 chap: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58179796/chapters/151141063

A/N: Stalking isn't cool, Gojo is hella toxic... but it's a yandere story you knew this lol.

Chapter 8

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo #shoko ieri #soft yandere #satoru x you #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #gojo x reader smut #satoru smut #threes0me #bdsmplay #pain kink

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aluraveil · 3 months ago

Text

Revelation

Pairing: Yandere Fyodor x Reader

Sypnosis: Your boyfriend, the one who's loved and cared for you a lot turns out to be a dangerous criminal. You were unaware of this, but once the truth comes out, what will you do now?

TW: Massive plot spoilers for BSD manga, yandere content, manipulation, character death (NOT reader or any MAJOR chars), unhealthy relationship dynamics, swearing, Fyodor himself. Extremely rushed because I want to fantasize about Fyodor and the latest chapters with him in it. Sorry for horrible writing and quality.

Word Count: 1.8k

The low clanking of dishes and the busy atmosphere was all that filled your ears.

You were currently sitting in a cafe, all by yourself waiting for your lover to arrive. You began to feel sadness creeping into your heart because you’ve been waiting here for over an hour now. Many thoughts were beginning to rush into your head and you couldn’t help but be lost within them.

“Are you still waiting for your date?” That voice suddenly caught you off guard. You turned your head over a little and you noticed that she was carrying a mountain of dishes. The waitress peaked her head over a bit to the side. After recovering from the initial shock, you mustered up a reply, with a sad expression on your face. “Yeah.. he’s still not here.” Had Fyodor just decided to stand you up? You physically frowned at the thought.

“Aw I’m so sorry about that,” The waitress offered you a sad smile. “If you need anything, you can call me over.” You nodded your head and the waitress began walking back with the faint clanking of the dishes being stacked on top of each other.

Work had made it so that you and your lover wouldn't spend time during the day together very much.

“Oh? My job..?” Fyodor hummed as he lifted his cup of tea. “I work for the… military.”

“Oh how wonderful.” You took a bite out of your biscuit, “Pretty nice how we both help the general public right?” You shot him a smile. “I work for the Armed Detective Agency.”

You didn’t fail to notice the way Fyodor’s eyes immediately darkened for a split second and he immediately choked on his tea and started coughing rapidly. Confused, you were immediately concerned. You immediately stood up with the intention of helping him before Fyodor raised his hand signaling you to sit back down.

“Pardon me Y/N,” Fyodor said as he raised a glass of water to his throat. “It seems that I was drinking the tea too quickly.” He sat the glass down as soon as it was empty. “You were quite worried for me right there, weren’t you Y/N?” Fyodor shot a grin at you.

“W-Well.. I- uh..” You stuttered, “Hey that’s not fair!” Your face flushed red in embarrassment. “I wouldn’t want you to choke okay?” You crossed your arms and pouted.

Fyodor smirked as he noticed how flustered you look. How cute, he thought.

“Stop giving me that look,” You sulked. “You’re making me feel embarrassed!”

You remember that was your first date with Fyodor. How long ago that was, and look at how close the two of you got. That memory warmed your heart a little just by thinking of it.

Ring! Ring!

The ringing of the entrance bell took you back to reality. Curious, you looked over to see the source of the sound. Your lover finally showed up.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Fyodor shot you an apologetic smile. “Work kept me… preoccupied.” He walked over and pulled out the chair on the other end of the table before he sat down.

“Well what even happened?” You asked with a gloomy expression. You looked up and noticed a splotch of red on his white hat. It caught your eye due to the contrast in color. “Fedya? Is that..” blood?

Fyodor’s expression went from confused. He pondered in thought for a minute before he realized what you were trying to say. “No dear… it’s just wine.”

“An arrogant prick..” Fyodor trailed off before changing the subject, “I think it’s best if we don’t… discuss matters related to work. Afterall, we don’t always get the opportunity to go on dates.”

He reached over the table and put his hands on top of yours, “I apologize again for making you wait this much.” He leaned in closer and stared lovingly into your eyes. “I love you. You’re the most important thing in my life.” He squeezed your hands tighter and your heart fluttered, “Please let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything.”

Fyodor knew just the right words to make you feel better. Your heart was brimming with many different emotions. You loved him so much, and even though he made you wait this long, you couldn’t help but believe it was worth it in the end.

You could hear a tiny voice in the back of your head telling you that there was something terribly wrong. From the way he was so late, his demeanor, and that strange spot on his hat. Your head was screaming at all of the red flags. All your senses were telling you to run. To run and to never look back. But your boyfriend would never lie to you. You shook your head and pushed those unwanted thoughts out of your mind. There was nothing wrong. It’s not his fault that he was held up at work because he’s dedicated to serving the military and he wants to help the common people. He’s a good person. Plus he wants to make it up to you and he apologized immensely.

You’re overthinking things.

Right?

Going against the tiny voice in the back of your mind, you hushed it out with the next words that you said.

“I forgive you. I love you too much to stay mad at you forever.”

“But I want to know though!” You said, brimming with curiosity. “What’s your job in the military like?”

“I work in the strategic department..” Fyodor replied, “Essentially, all that I do is that I design plans that allow us to gain the upper hand over our enemies.” Fyodor’s eyes darkened a bit with a suspicious glint and he looked up from his teacup and landed onto your form. “Why do you want to know?”

“Oh well you know!” You nervously scratched the back of your head feeling nervous from his intense gaze, “Just plain curiosity is all!”

“The way that you keep inquiring about my… occupation, you seem as if you are gathering intel from me to report back to an enemy organization.”

Work at the detective agency has been busy ever since the Decay of Angels has come along. Your mission today was to be at the airport to stop Fukuchi from getting his hands on the One Order. However, things took a huge turn when Fukuchi’s plan was revealed and he ended up dying.

You were informed of this by your partner Atsushi as the both of you are running to the roof of the airport to stop a mysterious person from escaping with the One Order.

“He’s an extremely dangerous man named Fyodor.” Atsushi explains.

What? Fyodor? Like your boyfriend Fyodor?

Your confused expression is evident and Atsushi makes a comment about you somehow knowing this Fyodor person. You obviously deny because there’s no way your boyfriend Fyodor was involved in this.

You both reach the roof of the airport as the mysterious man turns around wearing a long black suit and you’re shocked when you realize it’s Fyodor.

“Fyodor, how could you?” You cried out. “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe you’re the enemy!”

“The enemy?” Fyodor gasped as he put his hand over his mouth to hide his faux shock. “I am not the enemy my dear. I plan to cleanse this world of all ability users, I am merely doing a noble thing.”

“Did you ever love me?” You yelled as you started to feel tears forming in your eyes.

Fyodor’s expression softens. “Of course I did. I’ve always loved you myshka. I care a lot about you, I am merely doing my duty in cleansing this world full of sin.” He extends his hand out to you, “would you care to join me in my mission as my lover? If so, I’ll spare the tiger boy.”

“He’s lying, don't listen to him Y/N!” Atsushi screamed. “He’s a selfish, twisted and evil man!”

As if you were in a trance, your hand began to reach forward on its own, a symbol of your blind trust in Fyodor no matter the circumstance. Just as you were about an inch from taking his hand, you paused and slapped his hand away.

“I will never join you in your twisted schemes Fyodor!” You spat with a fierce look on your face.

“Oh how rude. And here I was giving you the opportunity so I wouldn’t have to force you.” Fyodor’s face wrinkled in disgust. “Amenogozen, kill the tiger boy!”

Just like that, Atsushi’s body was slashed over and over again until he became nothing but bubbles.

“No Atsushi!” You cried out running over to his body. “Please don’t leave me!”

Atsushi’s eyes began to close as he was nearing his own death. The attack was so sudden that he didn’t even have time to react.

“Whatever you do Y/N,” Atsushi said with his dying last words. “Don’t join him!”

You got there too late as the only thing you did was manage to hug a bunch of bubbles.

“What did that monster do to Atsushi?” You yelled out in anger as your knees gave in and you were on your knees now on the floor. “Bring him back now!”

“I’m afraid the tiger boy is gone my dear.” Fyodor smirked as he began to walk towards you. “I’m gonna give you one last chance now love. You can join me willingly or you can make me get my hands dirty and have me force you to join me.”

“Think hard now.” Fyodor taunts, “Which one should you pick?”

You felt the gravity of the situation truly weigh down upon you. You had nobody left. There was no way the agency or anyone in the world could defeat Amenogozen nor Fyodor. He’s just too powerful. You couldn’t escape him either because he would always find you. Why? Why did it have to be Atsushi? Why couldn’t it have been you?

You took a minute to weigh your options before finally deciding to go with Fyodor. You took his hand and he caged you in an embracing hug similar to how a husband would show affection to his wife.

“I’m glad you didn’t make this difficult for me.” Fyodor says. “Now come on, we have work to do.”

Fyodor holds your hand as his other hand wields divine order. He leads you and Amenogozen onto a plane where he plans to execute the final part of his plan when he lands.

Somehow, someway, you found yourself seeking Fyodor’s love and affection. You began to crave his touch once more as you place your head and lay it down on his shoulder.

For a minute, you’re hesitant about what you just did before Fyodor wraps his arms around you. The two of you stay like this for the rest of the plane ride and for a moment, you wished that it could stay like this forever, you wished that you could forget about the tiger boy and just join Fyodor.

In the end, your love for Fyodor was what reeled you back to him. Not even his crimes could deter you from him.

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makeitmingi · 7 months ago

Text

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 3]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.2K

Hongjoong, along with some other Ateez members, stood with him in the now quiet area of the abandoned building. He stepped to the side, clicking his tongue when he saw the blood splatter had gotten onto his new Oxford loafers.

"We're taking this guy with us, right?" San held up the leader, who was on the brink of death but still alive compared to his fellow gang members that have fallen.

"Yeah, keep him in the dungeon. We need him alive for interrogation." Seonghwa said, his hands going into the pockets of his coat.

"Should I get a clean up crew?" Jongho asked, his foot kicking one of the dead man's leg away so he could walk.

"Don't bother. Just torch the place." Hongjoong said, a freshly lit cigarette hanging from his lips. Mingi raised his eyebrows, looking at Seonghwa, who sighed and nodded his head.

"Alright. Let's torch it." Mingi rubbed his hands excitedly.

"Let's go then." The rest walked out. San dragged the man's body with him, throwing him into the trunk of their car.

"Please..." The male coughed blood.

"We're not letting you go that easy, you're going to wish death came faster. Better rest up, you have a lot to do." San smiled and patted the man's cheek before shutting the trunk. He climbed into the car that already had Hongjoong in the passenger seat. Seonghwa rode along in Jongho's car.

BOOM!

Looking out the window, the 4 watched as the 2-storey building became engulfed in flames. Mingi emerged with a satisfied smile, climbing onto his bike.

"He always get weirdly excited about blowing things up." Hongjoong shook his head with a chuckle.

"That's Mingi for you." San laughed, beginning to drive away from the scene. Mingi sped past them on his bike, flipping them off.

"If it's a race he wants, it's a race he gets." San growled and began to speed. Jongho seemed to get the memo too because he was revving to catch up and overtake them.

"Ah, you guys are crazy. Seonghwa's gonna get motion sick." Hongjoong said, knowing his best friend well.

"Well, if he pukes, at least it's not my car." San shrugged.

"You guys already race on a regular basis. Do you really have to race right now?" Hongjoong asked. Of course he was joking, he didn't care that the boys wanted to race now. Everyone in Ateez was very competitive, no matter what the subject was.

"Nice!" Hongjoong hi fived San when he pulled up a split second before Jongho. Mingi had already reached way before them, there was no beating him on a motorbike.

"I hate you all!" Seonghwa yelled as he fell out of the passenger seat. Hongjoong laughed and took a video of him on the ground.

"San, unload the cargo." Hongjoong instructed, referring to the guy in the trunk.

"Yes, hyung." San drove the car down to the basement while Hongjoong went to help Seonghwa up and they walked in through the front door.

"Hyung, you're back! I need help." Wooyoung ran over excitedly.

"What is it?" Hongjoong looked at him quizically, sitting down on the couch and Wooyoung took the adjacent armchair.

"Paint swatches for the new casino. I need your artistic eye." Wooyoung poured out all the paint swatches. In the middle, he placed the colour scheme of the intended decor and vibes. Wooyoung and San were the ones that managed the casino businesses that belonged to Ateez.

"It's hard to tell from just the pictures, can we not do this on site? I have time until my next meeting, we can go now." Hongjoong asked the younger.

"O-Oh! Okay, sure. Let me change and I'll meet you in the basement." Wooyoung ran upstairs.

"Get me a coffee in a mug." Hongjoong said to one of the maids.

"Yes, sir." She bowed and ran to the kitchen. Hongjoong slumped back into the couch. He looked at his hand, he could remove the bandages today. Maybe he'll do it when he gets home.

"Sir." A butler handed Hongjoong a to-go mug of coffee. Hongjoong took it and headed down to the basement.

"I'm here, hyung." Wooyoung jogged over, dressed in a black shirt with the first two buttons open and the sleeves rolled up, and dress pants.

One thing Hongjoong appreciated, as someone who values fashion, is that all the Ateez members dressed up well too. They also liked to dress up and look good, no matter where they were going. Yes, they mainly wore suits but they were all different.

"How's the hand?" Wooyoung asked as he drove.

"It's fine, I'll remove the bandages when I come back. We've all been injured before, this is minor considered to the gunshots that we've dealt with." Hongjoong said.

"I know... But you know this is under different circumstances, hyung." Wooyoung said boldly.

"Just because my mother died, it doesn't mean I'm fragile now. I'm not as torn up about it as you all think." He replied.

"Did you tell your construction crew that we are dropping by? There's no point going in if they are going to board up the place." Hongjoong changed the subject.

"Yeah, I sent the contractors a message that we'll be stopping by." Wooyoung hummed.

When Wooyoung pulled up, they saw the contractors there, already waiting for him and Hongjoong. The smell of the construction site irked Hongjoong slightly but he didn't express it, merely taking a sip of his coffee. There were some words exchanged between the contractors and Wooyoung.

"Hyung, this way." Wooyoung nodded towards the entrance of the building. Hongjoong looked around the place as they walked in, the place was coming together nicely.

"Get me one of the arm chairs." Wooyoung ordered.

"Yes, boss." The men went away.

"The furniture arrived earlier than expected so they've just been put aside until the finishing touches are done and the place is painted." Wooyoung informed.

"It's looking nice, Wooyoung. Once the paint is up, it'll come together very well." Hongjoong said in approval.

Even if the members updated each other on their projects, Hongjoong respected them and never interjected unless asked.

"Boss." The contractors placed one of the armchairs that will be used by the big wall. Another one of the workers brought in a standing light since the light fixtures were not working yet.

"Leave us." Wooyoung waved them off. They bowed and walked away. With some painter's tape, Wooyoung taped the paint swatches to the wall above the armchair so he and Hongjoong could look at it properly and visualise it.

"I do like the classic burgundy but painting the walls that shade might seem too tacky or old fashioned." Hongjoong said.

"San and I agree. That's why we're exploring dark shades of blue. It wouldn't feel too stuffy like if we were to go with a red shade. It'll make it feel cooler." Wooyoung nodded.

"Hmm... I like Prussian blue but it is too dark. What if we go lighter?" Hongjoong advised.

"What about this?" Wooyoung held up the book to the wall since he didn't take that many swatches.

"Nice. Come see." Hongjoong swapped placed with Wooyoung, holding up the book for him to step back and see. Wooyoung nodded in approval and took a picture.

"I'll show it to Sannie then we'll get to painting." Wooyoung said.

"Good, I can't wait to see it come together." Hongjoong smiled, patting Wooyoung's shoulder. After they were done, and Wooyoung was able to give some instructions to the contractors, the two of them headed back home. Hongjoong still had work to do and paperwork to go over.

Besides the underground businesses, there were legitimate businesses that Ateez ran as well. That's how they were able to build their reputation in the business world.

"I put the newest contracts on your desk, hyung." Yunho said as he jogged past Hongjoong.

"Thanks, Yunho." Hongjoong nodded and headed to his office.

"Ah, finally." He sunked into his plush chair. Sitting up, Hongjoong began to unwrap the bandage that you had put around his injured hand. Honestly, it was looking a lot better than before.

"Where is..." Looking around the place, he tried to find the tub of salve that you gave him.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Come in." Hongjoong threw the small tub into his drawer. The butler entered Hongjoong's office with a bow, informing him that he had some visitors come.

"What visitor?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow with suspicion and caution. He stood up, grabbing his blazer on the way out the door. He wore it and buttoned it as he approached the staircase and went downstairs to the living room area.

"What's going on here?" He asked when he saw Yeosang, Seonghwa and Jongho, guns drawn to the three men that stood there.

"Hongjoong sshi. Could you tell your men to keep their weapons?" The man smiled eerily.

"They can do as they like. What's your purpose here? We gave you mercy by letting you go despite having stolen from us. Did you not appreciate that?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow.

"O-Of course we do. We're merely here to offer our condolences. We heard what happened to your mother." The man stuttered slightly.

"Just let me shut him up permenantly, hyung." Jongho growled. Hongjoong held a hand up.

Hongjoong remembers that day well, they left most of this clan's men dead, only a handful that were barely hanging by a thread. Death was always an easy way out.

"We all know you're not here to offer condolences. Cut to that chase, what do you want?" Hongjoong smirked, crossing his arms.

"I'm here to make amends to Ateez. There's a rumour that the smaller gangs are forming together to take over your territories. They think you're going to be down with your mother's death so they're aiming to strike your territory first." The leader said, his face changing to one of confidence and pride.

"That's all? Do you really not think that we face threats to our territory everyday?" Hongjoong scoffed and the other Ateez members present laughed too.

"For wasting our time, I suggest we take compensation." Seonghwa tilted his head. The 3 men took a step back.

"Good idea, hyung." Yeosang smiled.

"That's true. I don't like people wasting my time AND I don't like people showing up unannounced, especially here." Hongjoong nodded in agreement.

"So that should be two compensations but maybe we only take one? Are we feeling nice today?" Jongho turned to the others.

"Hmm, whatever you guys want." Hongjoong shrugged, turning away to head back up the stairs.

"You'll regret this, Kim Hongjoong!" He heard the leader yell as he ran away with one of his men, leaving the other to be taken by the 3 Ateez members.

Everyone called Ateez the devils, with Hongjoong being the worst amongst all of them. But that's the only way to wield power, to strike fear in people. Everything they do serves as a lesson to others. In the underground world, it's kill or be killed.

"Aww, I missed out on the fun." Mingi said, looking over everything from the second floor banister.

"Don't worry, I have a feeling there will be more where that came from." Hongjoong chuckled and Mingi smirked at that.

"I need a coffee." He went back to his office, going to the coffee maker to make a triple shot espresso. Hongjoong could already feel a major migraine coming on.

Sitting back down, he retrieved the salve you made and haphazardly put them over his healing cuts.

"Hmm..." There was a slight cooling feeling but nothing else.

"Hyung? I'm ba- What's that smell?" Yunho sniffed the slightly herbal smell in the air. Hongjoong cleared his throat and sat up, putting the salve jar away.

"Just something to help with my injury." Hongjoong said awkwardly. Yunho raised an eyebrow.

"You went to see that girl... didn't you? The one that went to your mother's funeral. I know that she's a florist but she knows botany as well. That's the only place you would get herbal medicine." Yunho teased Hongjoong with a knowing smile. Hongjoong glared at the taller male.

"She's a business owner in my territory. Of course I would go visit her, I always visit the businesses from time to time." Hongjoong said through gritted teeth.

"Sure~" Yunho sang. He reached over to pick up the jar that Hongjoong failed to hide under his papers.

"Is this good? Can I try?" He asked.

"Give me that! No, you can't try it." Hongjoong snatched the jar back with a hiss, throwing it back into his drawer. Yunho snickered at the captain's almost flustered behaviour.

"Yunho, I'm busy. What is it you came here for?" Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I'll let you change the subject for now. But yes, I went to discuss the logistics for our upcoming gala." Yunho said.

"Okay. Show me." Hongjoong leaned forward as Yunho placed his laptop on the desk. He pulled up some documents showing Hongjoong his notes, the bill, pictures, everything related to the upcoming gala that they're hosting.

"This is good. Present all this to the rest at our next group meeting, I want them to weigh in on it and see what they think before you go forward with the plans." Hongjoong said.

"Okay. I'll chase the other suppliers for more accurate quotations." Yunho nodded, closing the laptop.

"So, hyung. About the girl..." Yunho raised his eyebrows.

"What? There's nothing about her." Hongjoong replied a little too quickly with a small frown, showing his discomfort about this subject. Yunho bit back his snicker.

"She really knew your mom?" Yunho asked. Hongjoong stiffened at the mention of his mother.

"Yes, no... Well, I don't know." Hongjoong sighed.

"She says she knows my mother but when she speaks about her, it is like we're talking about entirely different people. The person she knew wasn't the mother I knew." He explained.

"That's confusing... And frustrating." Yunho hummed with a nod of his head. Hongjoong let out a grunt of agreement. Yes, his mother was dead but why was he so bothered by this random girl that knew his mother too? Deep down, he knew that she can't change his perception of his mother but it intrigued him.

"Don't think too much about it. The others don't need to know about any of this." Hongjoong shot Yunho a look.

"My lips are sealed." Yunho did the action of zipping his lips.

"If that's all, I need to go for my tailor appointment." Hongjoong checked the time and stood up, turning his computer off. Yunho nodded and walked out with him.

"Don't you usually get our tailor to come to the house to do everything?" Yunho asked.

"Yes but I have a meeting nearby and I wanted to try doing it in the shop this time. Go out for some fresh air too." Hongjoong shrugged.

"Have fun, hyung. Good luck." Yunho wished. Hongjoong waved and headed downstairs to his car. It felt good to drive his own car again, even if it had only been a few days.

"Hey, Seonghwa. I'm going to meet with the new weapons dealer right now to see what he's all about then stop by the tailor for get a new suit done for the gala. Can you take care of the interrogation for me? You can take one of the boys with you." Hongjoong requested.

"You're going to meet a stranger that we've never met before and you didn't take back up?"

"It's fine. I can manage it. Plus, we're meeting in a public place. I highly doubt he'll try anything. But is that a yes on the interrogation?" Hongjoong asked.

"Can I ask Jongho to do it? I have a race tonight, it's a big one."

"Sure, please make sure that he knows what information we're trying to extract." Hongjoong hummed.

"Of course. I'll also make sure that he stops the others from getting too carried away with the torture. The last prisoner died before we got anything good out of him."

"Exactly, that's why I wanted you to do it. You're more objective but I trust Jongho to do it too." He explained.

"I understand. I would say I trust Jongho to get what we need too. Plus, he has the strength to stop the others if they go overboard when trying to get answers. And back to the main issue, why are you going for a meet up without any backup? Should I send some men your way to guard the area?"

"No need, I'm fine. I can handle it myself. Have a good race tonight." Hongjoong wished.

"Thanks, stay safe. If you need backup, alert us."

"I will." Hongjoong promised and hung up. He didn't know what he would do without Seonghwa. They've known each other the longest and started Ateez together, Hongjoong knew he could count on him.

"That should be everything. Thanks again for doing this so last minute." The couple said, closing the trunk of their van.

"No worries. Have a good one." You smiled and bowed as they entered and drove off. The moment the van was out of sight, you let out a long sigh of exhaustion. This couple had changed their order last minute and you tried your best to accomodate them.

"At least they compensated." Was what you told yourself before heading back to the shop. It was closing time soon, you usually would have one or two customers at night.

"What a mess..." You sighed. Today was hectic, while rushing orders, you had no time to clean up and just left the mess.

"Good evening, are you open?" You heard a customer come through the door.

"Yes. How can I help you?" You wiped your hands on your apron. You helped the customer get what he needed. Thankfully he was content with choosing one of your premade bouquets.

"Do you prepare all these bouquets yourself?" He asked as you swiped his card for payment.

"Yes, I do." You giggled, handing him back his card.

"They're all very nice. Thanks, have a nice evening." He complimented. You smiled gratefully, walking him to the door and opening it for him to leave.

After that, you began to clear the area, composting the discarded plant parts before you could grab a broom to clean up the small bits and pieces. There was ribbon, tissue paper and wiring scattered everywhere. You kept all the spare materials in the trolley that you usually wheeled around.

"Now I'm hungry." You groaned. There was still two more hours until you had to close so you couldn't eat yet. You tried to pass time by answering to some customers enquires and order confirmations.

"Finally! Closing time." You threw your arms up in the air. You went to turn the 'CLOSED' sign and gathered all the trash to dispose of.

"Ugh..." As you were out back, you heard someone groan.

"H-Hello? Is anyone there?" You called out as you took a wary step back. The back alley was very dimly lit and you were not about to take any chances.

"W-Who is there?" Fumbling for your phone, you turned the flashlight on and saw a leg sticking out from where the recycled boxes were.

"Excuse me. Are you oka-" Your eyes widened as you took in the sight in front of you.

"Hongjoong sshi?!"

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