#can’t believe me got the bathroom scene
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someonelookingpretty · 2 years ago
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Kaz awkwardly jamming a rag into Inej’s wound is more sensual than anything Malina have ever managed in their lives
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obsesssedblerd · 4 months ago
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“Megumi!” You call your son in the living room, who’s sitting next to his father, Toji, on the couch watching the news. “Could you go grab your sister and tell her to put her studying on hold? Dinner’s almost done.” 
“Yeah, no problem,” Megumi says as he rises to his feet, putting his headphones around his neck and pulling his phone out of his hoodie pocket. “Oh, uh, Mom?” 
“Hm?” 
“Can Itadori spend the night after dinner?” He then looks over at Toji with a small scowl. “After Dad hides all of his assassin stuff?” 
“Hey, watch it,” Toji says.
You nod with a light smile. You loved having Yuuji Itadori over. He was a bright kid, and besides, he made Megumi relaxed and happy. “Of course. Go prepare the guest bed, yeah?” 
Megumi departs with a nod, then heads upstairs. From the living room, you hear Toji whistle. “Wow. Baby, looks like Spider-Man stopped that bank robbery.”
You look up from the dishes in the kitchen, then hum in delight when you catch what’s on the screen. It looked like small clips from the internet as the reporter gave details. The masked hero, wearing blue and red, swings, fights, and rescues hostages swiftly. “Incredible,” you say, then walk over to hand your husband a list of groceries. “Could you head to the store and grab these? I want to make sure that we have enough food for breakfast in the morning now that Yuuji will be staying the night.” 
Toji looks around to make sure that Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t present, then lowers his voice to a whisper. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Yuuji.” 
“Megumi has feelings for him. Yeah, I know.” 
“No- Not that. Amazing for them, and I think they’re adorable together, but,” Toji points over at the TV. “I think he’s Spider-Man.”
You blink, then burst into laughter as you head back into the kitchen. “Toji, what? Don’t be ridiculous. He’s only fifteen and very busy. You know how often he studies with Megumi.” 
“I’m serious,” he says as he follows you. “Think about it. Do you know how often Yuuji shows up with bruises or scratches?” 
You begin arranging plates on the dining room table. “Just like our son, the kid’s a fighter. I mean, his uncle Sukuna was a huge fighter before he passed away. Plus, he spends a lot of time with Satoru Gojo, and we know how he is. Also, doesn’t he have an older brother? Brothers fight.” 
“True, but just walk with me for a second.” You sigh and look up to see Toji waving his hands animatedly as he explained. “Do you remember when we all went to the parade on New Years together, and that giant robot appeared?” 
“Yes, it was all everyone could talk about for days.” 
“Uh-huh.” He then points at you. “Do you also remember how Yuuji was gone when Spider-Man appeared at the scene?” 
You stare at him blankly. “...Toji, he went to the bathroom before everything happened,” you remind him. “I’m certain that he got lost in the crowd when everyone started running.”
Toji groans. “You don’t believe me. Baby, I’m telling you—He’s Spider-Man. I can’t prove it now, but I will eventually.” 
You sigh again and cross your arms. “Okay, so, let’s say he was. What would you do?” 
“Well, I mean…” Toji mutters, then sheepishly rubs the back of his head as he quietly chuckles. “I dunno, give him a high-five? Worry about Megumi?” 
“Trust me, Toji. The only people with secret identities here are you and I.” You reach over and grab a stack of napkins. “By the way, Megumi had a point earlier. Be more careful about where you’re leaving weapons. One of Tsumiki’s friends nearly saw one not too long ago.” 
He winces. “Sorry.” 
“You’re fine.” You push to your tip toes and gently kiss him. “No job tonight, right? I know I don’t have one.” 
“Nope. Once I get those groceries, I’m all free.” He grabs the list from you, then reaches towards you to lovingly push a loose strand of hair away from your face. “I’ll be back soon.” When he leaves through the back door, the front doorbell rings. 
You hear Megumi rush down the stairs. “I got it,” he tells you as he passes you. When the door opens, Yuuji Itadori waves at you with his usual grin. “Hi, Mrs. Fushiguro!”
“Hi, Yuuji. What happened to your face?” You ask. His lip is slightly busted, and there’s a bruise beginning to form on his jaw. Yuuji laughs sheepishly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his yellow hoodie. “Oh, uh, me and Okkotsu fought again. Gojo-sensei had to pull us apart.” 
Megumi rolls his eyes. “I swear, you’re always fighting.”
“Aw, come on, Megumi,” Yuuji teases with a smirk as he crosses his arms. “You’re just as bad. I heard about what happened a few days ago.”
Your son’s cheeks dust with pink, and he clears his throat. “Yeah, whatever. You need to get cleaned up before dinner. Come on, there’s a first-aid kit in the bathroom.” 
Megumi goes upstairs, and Yuuji follows close behind him. You’re about to tell Yuuji that the flap of his backpack is slightly unzipped, but the words get stuck in your throat when you catch the tiniest hint of the red and blue suit. You only see it for a split-second before Yuuji swings his backpack around, excitedly telling Megumi about a new action figure he wants to get for his birthday.
Your eyes widen. Holy shit. 
-----
a/n: lol i can't believe I wrote this. spidey yuuji au, you'll always be loved by me <3
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street-smarts00 · 5 months ago
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Weirdest Place
Spencer Reid x gen neutral!reader
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Summary: The team finds out you and Spencer have been dating during a night out.
WC: 1.1k
A/N: this is yet another fic based on an episode of friends, specifically a scene from the blackout episode but i added a fun twist lol
Tags: conversations about sex but not smut, established relationship between r & reid, consumption of alcohol
After the team was finished at the BAU they all went out to a local bar for drinks. As the night went on JJ and Hotch left to be at home with their kids. With their boss gone and the tipsiness from their drinks, the topic of conversation got more and more inappropriate.
“A boat?” Rossi asked
“Yes,” Derek confirmed
“A boat?” Emily spoke this time.
“Why don’t you believe me?” Derek asked, slightly offended.
Emily raised her hands in defense, “It’s not that we don’t believe you.”
“It just seemed like your weirdest place would be a bit more adventurous based on how you brought it up,” Rossi voiced.
Derek furrowed his eyebrows, “and a boat isn’t adventurous?”
“No it is,” Penelope chuckled before reaching for her drink. Of course, she’d already heard about Derek’s nautical escapades.
Derek directed his attention back to Emily, “And what about you? What’s your weirdest place?”
She leaned back in her seat with a tinge of embarrassment she tried to hide with smugness. “That’s classified,”
Rossi and Derek cringed at Emily’s diversion.
“Oh god,” Rossi chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.
“Do I even wanna know?” Derek asked half joking.
Emily shrugged instead of answering. Derek decided he was better off not pushing Emily to share her story. He then brought his attention to the man across from him.
“What about you, pretty boy?”
Spencer’s head darted to him with raised eyebrows. “Me?”
“You got a weirdest place?”
“I- um.”
His ears started to turn a shade of crimson and he stuttered on his words, or lack thereof since he was caught off guard.
“It’s probably like a library or something,” Rossi jokes, earning a bright laugh from Derek.
Penelope set her drink down, “don’t make him say it if he doesn’t- “
“Actually it was.”
Everyone froze and turned to Spencer.
Emily was the first to speak, “What?”
Spencer shifted in his seat while the courage he had before started to dwindle. His face was now officially turning red.
“Me and um- someone were at the library because I was showing her it’s Edgar Allen Poe collection. Then at some point we ended up in … um the second floor bathroom.”
“Oh my god,” Penelope giggled before placing her hand on her mouth in shock.
“I can’t believe I was right,” Rossi commented.
“I can’t believe Spencer Reid was getting freaky in a library,” Derek said with a humorous grin.
“Shut up,” Spencer squeaked in a high pitched voice.
He hoped the topic of conversation would quickly be dropped so he didn’t have to reveal too much about his love life. But he suspected that wouldn’t happen once you came back to the table.
You and Spencer had started dating a few months prior and wanted to keep things to yourselves. You both intended to figure out the beginning of your relationship without the eyes of your friends.
“The line for the bathroom was so long,” you complained as you approached the table and sat down next to Spencer. “What did I miss?”
“Oh we never heard Y/N’s place,” Penelope excitedly pointed out.
You looked at her confused, “What place?”
“I have no clue how we got here but they all started talking about the weirdest places they’ve had sex,” Emily explained.
“Wow. Well, when I’m done I need to hear all of yours,” you pointed your glass in a motion towards all of them before drinking the last sip.
“I usually don’t venture outside the bedroom but out of the few times I have I think there’s two tied for first place.”
“What’s one of them?”
“Library.”
Silence fell over the group. Spencer’s stomach dropped to the floor at your answer. His face turned cherry red and his eyes remained frozen on the table in front of him.
You on the other hand were baffled at the reaction from your friends.
“What?”
While your eyes scanned the group you were met with relatively neutral expressions that didn’t match the growing tension in the air. All of them looked as if they wanted to say something, but not one of them was ready to speak.
Embarrassment and regret were creeping their way towards you in silence. Your body tensed up and you folded your arms in front of you.
“Come on guys, it's not that weird. It’s not like we were in an aisle, we were in the bathroom,” you tried to defend yourself.
That sentence seemed to spark something in the group. Their body language started to relax but still had a bit of hesitation. They all knew at this point, but they wanted you to confirm it.
“What floor?”
You followed the voice to Emily “Excuse me?”
“What floor was the bathroom on?”
You couldn’t wrap your head around her question.
“Why does that matter?”
“It does, which floor?” Penelope questioned this time.
“Second I think,” you hesitated, still confused.
“Oh my god!” Penelope squealed. “You guys are sleeping together?”
With your eyes wide, face hot, and heart pounding, you stared at her. Trying to figure out how a story like this was one they already heard. You forgot until now that they were already playing this game before you got back.
Turning to the side you playfully smacked Spencer’s arm. “You told them that?”
He gaped at you and grabbed his arm. Face still red of course now accompanied with a crack in his voice. “I didn’t think you were gonna tell them. I thought you would have talked about the other time.”
“Why would I tell them that?” You said in a quieter tone.
“What other time?” Derek interrupted, filled with curiosity.
Rossi pipped in next, “you said two places were tied for weirdest, what’s the other place?”
You and Spencer went quiet. You looked at each other before returning your gaze to the group.
“I think this is a great time to get a refill,” you grabbed your glass and stood up. “Spencer, coming with?”
He quickly scrambled to stand up, “Absolutely.”
The two of you made your way to the bar as your friends all started murmuring.
“So, you didn’t want to tell them you had sex on a plane?” He asked with a slight smirk.
“No, of course not!” You squealed which earned a laugh from him.
“Eventually they would’ve found out we’re dating and I didn’t want them to figure out it was on the jet,” you explained.
“It’s not like any of them were there,” he said before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“I still don’t wanna get fired.”
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usedpidemo · 14 days ago
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Getting closer (Kang Hyewon)
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“All I’m saying is—” Hyewon looks away, drink in hand, taking a little sip, calm and alluring as ever, “if you only want to see me naked, then you could have just said so.”
You widely stare back, silent, indifferent—or at least pretend to be. It’s gotten you a fair amount of awards, after all. It’s not the slightest bit of convincing whatsoever.  
She laughs, softly, as if this was the expected outcome. “So I’m taking that as an admission.” 
Setting down the near-empty wine glass on the bathroom sink, Hyewon attempts to walk away, only to be stopped by a sudden pull. Your hand appears tightly wrapped around her dainty wrist, unwilling to let go. Your eyes aimlessly wander up and down the empty void that is her black dress. There are hardly any thoughts behind that predictably empty head of yours, only the simplest of desires.
You catch the subtlest grin forming on her saccharine lips. You fucking hate how she makes you feel. How she makes your heart race with every exchange.
Despite all the time you’ve spent together, you wish you got to know her better.
—————
The last year and a half of your career has mostly centered around one thing, or in this case, one person: Kang Hyewon. There’s also this drama starring your pairing as co-leads, and you’ve been promoting together, but your names make up more of the headlines than the very show. Your names are synonymously tied together akin to an actual couple.
Unsurprisingly, Hyewon is damn gorgeous. It’s how she’s getting the calls to begin with. Another one of those former singers turned actors looking to be taken seriously within the larger entertainment industry. Most never make it past their first project and fall back on their old careers, with some completely flaming out of the spotlight altogether. She’s an exception. A minor part here, a supporting cameo there—until she’s more than pleasant eye candy. A starlet who knows how to pick what roles would showcase her talents the most. 
She’s the perfect blend of beauty goddess and hotshot young star that the internet can get behind.
So it comes as a surprise when she’s casted as second fiddle to you, the first billing—and everyone comes away talking about her more. The scene stealer. 
(This plucky rival agent, investigating a case your character has been trailing for years, barely scraping by with the thinnest of clues, only for her to uncover the mystery only days after starting the investigation. The writing screams Mary Sue, but she acts convincing and vulnerable enough to escape the scathing think pieces that’s commonly associated with such characters. Not to mention: you both look damn good together on screen and during your public appearances.
It’s a team that sailed a thousand ships—both for your characters and in the real world.)
The consummate professional you are, you don’t think much of it. Your filming experience can only be described as businesslike. Except for the scenes where you’re together on screen, you’ve been separated at arms’ length, only exchanging words between takes to keep any further relationship from developing. It’s only during the press tour where you’ve finally gotten somewhat close.
Perhaps a little too close for comfort. Enough to make video compilations by overzealous fans who think you and Hyewon are really an item. The evidence is everywhere—in interviews, behind the scenes content, and on both your Instagram pages. At least, that’s what they want to believe. Everyone else brushes it off as two hot people being hot together, and not much else.
Here’s the thing: you love Hyewon—that much is true. The question now is: does she love you back?
Thankfully, your duo doesn’t get in the way of the show being lauded, despite making up a majority of its fandom. Positive reviews from both critics and viewers, especially in regards to your chemistry. The connection between you two is one in a million, something that can’t be built over years and years of working together. It also helps your performances sell the dynamic incredibly well—well enough to create those delusional shippers that form the bedrock of your partnership. 
Your names were positioned to go far during awards season. Not the consensus top pick, but as dark horse contenders to steal one every now and then. And while you both won your fair share of accolades, neither of you ended up walking away with the top prize. The conversation during the final ceremony of the year consisted primarily of the media and viewers talking about how your appearances together these last few months—and how you’re a match made in heaven. 
Everyone’s gonna miss this pairing—and so will you.
Now you’re back at square one. Having snuck away from the afterparty currently celebrating the dozen or so awards your show won earlier tonight, you’ve brought Hyewon back to your hotel room. Neither of you cared once you both lost your respective categories. The pundits thought you each only had the slimmest of odds to win, so why bother. Hell, you were both itching to leave as soon as the red carpet concluded. 
It’s all behind you now. You’re finally free from the glitz, glamor, and chaos of these vanity ceremonies and can really focus on what really matters—the pretty girl that you most likely won’t be seeing starring tomorrow. Your careers and interests couldn’t be any further apart: your main focus is movies, while hers are dramas. Both of you remain booked and busy for the next few years with different projects, with not a single one reuniting you two for the foreseeable future.
Back to Hyewon. She’s looking down at her wrist, tightly held by your hand. She allows it. You can feel her pulse. You sense that your hearts are racing in unison, tense and anxious.
“Are you gonna do something?” she questions, daring you to pull the trigger. She knows something you don’t—or maybe you do. You’re blinded by fear to realize it. “The night is fleeting. If not now, then when?”
Her words ring through your head. 
If not now, then when?
The same five words, ordered in the exact same way—etched in tiny letters on her skin.
You still remember everything—frame by frame, down to the last details. On screen, it’s implied. In your mind, it canonically happened. She took her shirt off, exposing herself and the scars of battle, and you were gonna go there. In your characters’ supposed words, ‘Clean’’ in your own unique way.
It was ultimately never shot. Bare minimum of fanservice and completely unnecessary, the director said. 
The tattoo sticks out, not only because of how it's deeply embedded on her otherwise pristine, lithe figure, but also because it represents the last 18 months of your career.
During this period, there are a lot of things that you’ve regret—and will regret. The fact you’ve kept contact with her during filming at a minimum, keeping your interactions strictly between takes and creating a negative air around you in her eyes. The fact it took you so long to exchange numbers, only getting it done during the press tour. The fact that you never return her messages when she constantly reaches out to you, whether through text or on your Instagram. The fact you haven’t thanked her enough times during your acceptance speeches, even when you mention her name in almost every other sentence. If there’s anything you want to admit, it’s that Hyewon is everything.
Most importantly, the fact that you fucking love her, to the point where you’d yearn moments when you’re not beside her—and you still lack the will to confess to her. Even right now. When she’s right at your fingertips.
Perhaps she knows this. The signs were there all along. How she often posts your red carpet photos together and tags you in them. How she also mentions you as much during her acceptance speeches and credits you as a reason for her improvements in acting, even referencing specific advice you’ve given her. The biggest hint, however, are the dresses she’s been wearing to these galas, most evident being tonight. Simple all black, tailor made for her frame, showing off her assets for flaunting to the cameras. 
Earlier, she led you to an empty part of the theater to say something in private. “I wore this just for you,” she said—and from that point, you had to get her alone, whatever it takes.
Really, Hyewon has no intention to leave tonight. She’s just waiting for those magic words. There’s no other logical reason for her to be here, other than for you.
She might as well be holding up a huge signpost with all her requests written in capital letters. 
“If you’re not gonna do anything,” she says, tone casual, slipping one strap of her dress down her shoulder, the one half of the fabric dropping a fair amount. “Then I might as well do it myself. I was hoping you’d take this off me—”
“Stop.” 
You grab her other hand, close to touching the other strap, the dress more than ready to fall down. She raises her eyebrows in amusement. Afterward, she puts the seized hand down, convincing you to release the grip. 
Another win for Hyewon. You’ve lost count as to how many times she’s been messing with you throughout awards season. Probably in the hundreds. Thousands if you count the interviews and little jabs during her speeches. Every mention of your name is an immediate sign of trouble. You can sense she’s enjoying every single moment, relishing the remaining time you have left. Meanwhile, it’s clear on your face that you’re stressed. 
But for what?
“If it hasn’t gotten through your thick skull, then I have no choice but to explain it.” Hyewon climbs atop the bathroom sink, strong enough to lift herself off the ground. She pours the glass with new wine; it’s not meant for you. Her attitude flips instantaneously like a switch, composed and readying herself as if it were another photoshoot. 
Taking a sip of the drink, she pours the rest all over her dress. It serves no purpose anymore. it’s undeniable that she knows what she’s doing. That elegant yet cocky smile is permanently seared into your brain. Someone this haughty shouldn’t be this beautiful and seductive. “You can stand there and waste the night away, or you can do something about it. All up to you.”
You can only sigh. Whether out of wistfulness or annoyance is up for interpretation. You can add taking her back to your hotel room and taking this role in your ever growing list of regrets. When it’s all said and done, it’ll definitely be as long as the career documentary they’ll make about you in 50 years.
What more do you have to lose? 
This will all be behind you soon enough.
You finally stop giving her the cold shoulder. “God, I really wish you weren’t such a tease,” you remark, pulling on the dress strap she previously slid down. “Because otherwise, it would have been so much easier.”
Hyewon seems to have taken your words seriously, because she suddenly kisses you—as in, relentlessly smothers you. Her arms wrap around your neck, slowly pulling you close into an embrace. She smells of alcohol and perfume. An unusual concoction that you can drown yourself in.
“Only if you say the magic word,” she says, gently laughing between kisses. The lower half of your face is full of pale lipstick marks. It was foolish to think she had turned a new leaf, knowing how intentional Hyewon can be with everything.
You’ve really got no other choice.
“I love you,” you confess, but in the smallest audible voice imaginable—hiding that reluctance behind your tone. 
Hyewon pulls herself back, smiling toothily at you, borderline snorting. Her expressions convey the idea that you told her a joke, which it may as well be. 
“That’s it? Doesn’t sound like someone who loves me,” she remarks, tone evidently disparaging.
“Fuck me.” The groan comes out instinctively, as if this wasn’t your first time getting burned like this. Your head is raised to the ceiling, asking the gods for an out.
“That’s my line,” she spouts, her response almost as instantaneous. Wit comes naturally to Hyewon. The countless viewers and interviewers who’ve laughed can speak on her behalf.
“You’re gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?” you ask, knowing you’ve willingly fallen for the easiest bait in the entire world.
“You’re gonna turn everything I say into a joke, are you?” she repeats, mockingly imitating your voice, much to your utter chagrin. This isn’t part of some romcom or a sketch. This is real. Everything comes back around to Hyewon. She laughs—basks in your suffering.
It’s the kind of trait that would leave you second guessing whether you really love her or not. As it turns out, the public loves celebrities with a playful sense of humor. Not even you are innocent—you’ve been caught red-handed on camera a few times. Hyewon doesn’t need to reaffirm herself.
But she would love to hear it straight from the source.
“Say it. Say it.” Hyewon is urging you—demanding you—as if it were a matter of life or death. Her hands are everywhere, gripping you by the cheek and the throat like her prized possessions, threatening to choke the life out of you. 
Truthfully, this was coming the moment she stepped through those doors for the first table read. Hyewon’s gravity is inescapable.
“Love you—Hyem, please—” 
Struggling to push back against her hold, you can tell that she’s taking pleasure in every moment she has you like this: wrapped around her finger, so whipped over her that it’s alarming. There’s little use in trying to be coy or subtle. If she wanted you to go down to the afterparty in nothing but your boxers, you’d fold in a heartbeat. She’s the kind of girl you’d happily end up in a scandal with, someone you’d throw your career away in exchange for one timeless night, against the advice of everyone who knows better.
She knows this too. Look at the coy grin spreading on her face. A smile perfect for the front cover of any magazine or commercial. It’s the perfect facade for the attitude hiding beneath.
“I love you Hyem,” you repeat, showing a bit more desperation and sincerity this time. You’re breathing against her neck, the idea of pressing your lips against her skin a dire need. It’s unfortunate you can’t make it look like an accident—as is the idea of your bodies sinking down on the bathroom countertop. “For the longest time, I wanted you, but—”
Only now do you come to the simplest realization: there are no accidents.
Normally, you should feel some shame for being this oblivious. How a girl like Hyewon is giving out all these hints, to the point where she might as well be spreading her legs wide and pointing down at her cunt with a colorful sign. Hell, a thigh is peeking through her dress, pressing on your leg right now. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about working with other actors, it’s that chemistry comes naturally—it can’t be taught.
And your bodies are doing exactly that. The friction between you can’t be any more tense.
“Then show me.” She sighs against your ear, pulling on the topmost button of your suit, pushing down the matching coat. Her leg extends around your limb, goading you to pull away, even though leaving the pretty sight right in front of you is the last thing on your mind. 
You can only breathe. Slow. Hesitant. There's not a lot of hours left, and you’re wasting more by taking your sweet time—resting your gaze on her pale shoulder, admiring all the little details. In essence, you’re doing the complete opposite of what Hyewon wants. She’s showing a little frustration, proving how much better of an actress she is than you. Imagine being in her shoes, beckoning to someone astronomically unaware for months. So much energy and effort could have been saved if she chose to leave you out to dry. If you weren’t so preoccupied with thoughts of her, the many ways this little scene can go, you’d be wondering why she’s this persistent. 
Maybe you’re just as important of a character in her story too, or you’re both stubborn in your own ways. Perhaps both.
None of that is your concern right now. You’re cupping Hyewon’s face, kissing her, nibbling down on her creamy skin, reaching up to her lips by the way of her neck, pulling on the strap of her dress little by little. In response, she’s whispering sweet nothings into your ear, removing your dress shirt one button at a time. It feels like you’re going through the motions, acting under the words of an intimacy coordinator and a director. Slowly but surely, it’s all coming together, until—
“Stop.” 
You pull back, noticing your shirt is nearly undone as you look past her and at the mirror. Both dress straps are halfway down her arms, the fabric a mess, waiting to be swept away. 
You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. “What’s up?” 
Hyewon tilts her head at an angle, unsatisfied. She’s staring at you intently, taking a moment to analyze you like you’re a problem to solve—which you are—before coming to a rather alarming conclusion. “You don’t seem like you want me that bad.”
The remark doesn’t register in your brain. “What do you mean—”
She yanks you forward for a deep kiss, cutting you off. Reciprocating her passion comes naturally—and so does everything else. The movement of your hands, taking lease of her back, tearing through the fabric of her dress, coming back to her cheeks, until you stop feeling cloth and register more flesh. Feeling her skin becomes your new addiction, something you can’t get enough of. 
Watching her other movies—for research purposes—you knew she was well endowed, even when they were not on full display.  Some of her previous gala dresses truly put a spotlight on her cleavage. Part of you thought it was editing trickery, a perfectly taken photo at the right time, or a bra doing the heavy lifting. All three even. But holding them now, with nothing in between, you simply couldn’t believe how well they’ve been hidden from you. 
Her tits fold, go flush, and her nipples stiffen at your touch. They feel so right—as if they were handmade for you.
“God, Hyem—” you breathe out, savoring the sensation of her mounds in your clasp, unwilling to let go. Her taut nipples jerk with every run of your palms. If only you could rest your head between them, but your current position won’t allow you. 
“They feel so good right?” Hyewon moans in response, shedding your unbuttoned shirt off your body and tossing it to the floor, taking lease of your muscles and back. Her dress bunches up around her waist, practically collapsing when she decides to get up from the sink. Although an expected outcome, you’re both surprised that you’ve managed to get each other’s clothes off.
And you’re only getting started.
Pushing you away, Hyewon meets you at your level. Gravity does the rest. She stands before you in nothing but heels. What a mental image to remember her after tonight. She leaves you frozen and trembling, jaw agape, your eyes in a daze, unable to find a place to settle your fleeting gaze on—until she rests her hands around your shoulders. You’re caught up in your own disbelief to meet her lovely gaze and that rather sweet smile, quite the difference from her bare state.
She lifts up a leg, pushing herself onto you for another passionate kiss. Taking advantage, her legs eventually wrap around your waist, bearing all her weight on your grasp. Despite her surprise attack, she’s feathery enough to carry around. It certainly helps that she’s not the heaviest girl you’ve lifted before; you have some experience—mostly unpleasant and usually backbreaking. Still, you’ll treat her like some delicate object that crumbles at the slightest touch. Something—or someone—you can’t ruin, or else you’d be ruined too.
You both end up in the living room, deeply engrossed in a fiery passion that’s too hot for cameras. Lifting her high, your lips find their way to her chest, pressing them in the place where they rightfully belong. Hyewon is stubborn, pushing your head further up to meet your lips in a direct, frantic kiss. Back and forth, you take turns between her tits and her lips, unintentionally slamming her against a wall, eliciting a few yelps out of her. 
It doesn’t bother you both in the slightest. You hold her there, kissing down her abdomen and ribs, coming to the tiny inked part of her figure. The same tattoo that’s been ingrained in your head since you first saw them.
You mutter the very words against her skin. 
“If not now, then when.”
They’ve never been so relevant till right now. You softly kiss the ink, silently thanking her for saving you from a lifetime’s worth of regret.
Hyewon winces, throws her head back, moans up to the ceiling. Her nails brush through your hair, then claw at your nape as you remain fixated on her tattooed rib. She deserves to be adored and worshiped.
“Look at me babe,” she murmurs, gently tilting you up, faint at your touch. Against your desires, you follow. “Put me down. You know why I’m here.”
You oblige without a second thought—and you’re both on a level playing field again.
Still, you can’t help but kiss her right after. She reciprocates the favor. You’re a perfect match. Even as you’re making out, you’re thinking of ways to get messy and get the jump on her while she’s preoccupied. 
It ends up being your biggest mistake.
Both of you wrestle for control over the other, a scuffle that ends up knocking down a few appliances and tableware. The sound of glass shattering rips through the hotel room floor louder than your collective moans ever will. For someone with a lithe figure, Hyewon proves to be much stronger than you were led to believe. It shows when you try to push her onto another table; you both end up crashing to the floor seconds later. 
From there, it’s whoever is the first to get up, and you knew it was all over from there.
Hyewon leads you into the sole bedroom, shoving you onto the mattress. Unrelenting, she slams onto you right after, pinning you down with her bare hands. Surprising her with your own strength, you reach for her raven locks through her ironclad grip of your wrists. Your lips continue to crash like waves against rocks, neither of you willing to back down. There’s a clear disparity between you: she wants you more.
To further prove her point, she presses her palms down on your chest, sitting over you upright, straddled on your lap. She’s never looked better.
Making quick work of your trousers, your cock is freed from its confines, only to be immediately caught up in Hyewon’s hand. Her grip spreads through your groin, turning breathing into an absolute nightmare. The one fear that’s been haunting your mind these last few months, finally realized. 
And it’s staring you down with an innocent yet wicked smile.
“You have no idea how long I wanted this,” she remarks, her sultry voice sending shivers down your spine. Arching down, she presses her tongue forward on your throbbing tip. Combined with the pressure she’s building with her hand, holes puncture through your lungs. And right on command, you’re leaking. She’s lapping your cock in circles, slow and agonizing, taking every little drop of precum seeping. You can only tremble beneath her, utterly defenseless. “Remembering when I was tapping your foot with my heel earlier tonight?”
She leaves you in such a dizzying spiral that you can’t even look directly at her, let alone formulate a reply. Meanwhile, her eyes remain fixed on you, doe-eyed with innocence, yet her actions are cruel. Breathing proves to be a struggle, let alone returning with a response. “What about it?”
“I wanted you to follow me to the bathroom. And I wanted you to fuck me in there.”
Honest to God, that was not the first thought on your mind. If anything, the presence of many proved to be the ideal shield in keeping yourself away from Hyewon. Losing best actor was the greatest blessing in disguise, as it meant you didn’t have to look straight into her magnetic eyes during your theoretical speech and make an embarrassment of yourself in front of hundreds in attendance, and millions watching on television. 
Now that you’re in bed with no way to escape, you can only accept your fate.
“I’m not the best at reading the room,” you comment, sheepishly shaking your head.
“Not surprising, honestly,” she says, rewarding your candor with a kiss—on your tip. Then another. More heartwarming than arousing, if anything. “Anyone ever told you that you’re kind of a dork?”
“Not the first time I’ve heard it from a girl,” you say, in an attempt to show some wit, only to be met with a stiff grip on your cock. “Ah—fuck—”
A bit more force and Hyewon could break you in half with her mere hand alone. She’s cold, calculating, and cruel. Her expression seems apathetic, yet deep down, you can tell she’s having so much fun toying and teasing you, stealing what little semblance of willpower you have. And to think she’s this demure, sometimes funny celebrity with a certain image that’s universally admired by many. 
Behind that gaze, she’s thinking of more ways to further ruin you.
“I don’t think a dork like you has been with other girls,” she remarks, leaning forward to tease a kiss, only to leave you dry. “But looking at this cock—”
She stops to admire your shaft once more. Ultimately, she can’t help herself. She has to give your tip another ceremonious flick with her parched tongue in appreciation. Two, actually. If she doesn’t stop, you’ll soon be deep in her throat, and you know she’s not letting you go. Thankfully, she finally regains sight of what she wants in the first place.
Lifting herself ever so slightly, Hyewon takes a deep breath—then slowly melts into you. 
It’s a car crash you can’t look away from. It’s inevitable, but you’re completely powerless to stop her. You can only groan in agony as your bodies intertwine, creating a union that only she can break. Inch by inch, you helplessly watch as Hyewon slowly takes you into her suffocating heat. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before: vicious, intense, and painful. 
It doesn’t help that she’s taking her sweet time, keeping you on edge for what may as well be an eternity, bracing for the certain explosion she’s going to leave in her wake. 
“Oh—fuck—it’s so perfect,” Hyewon throws her head back, her jaw dropping slow, every word delivered in a near-inaudible sigh. Eventually, she buries herself in you deep to the hilt—and she keens. “That—that’s it—that’s the fucking spot—”
Your hands cling to her waist, your maw similarly agape, breathing tensely as the pleasure slowly courses through your muscles. “God—you’re fucking tight—”
She hums in return, satisfied by your response, before losing herself in the sensation of your cock impaling her—and she begins to move.
As you fight the urge to cum right then and there, Hyewon slowly lifts herself off your lap, your cock reappearing with a fresh coat of her drenched pussy, before sinking back down. She rips the breath right from your lungs, while you’re forced to shut your eyes. Anything to keep your brain firing as the pleasure rushing throughout your body sends you into overdrive. 
You’re an outlet of ecstasy, a conduit for her to loosen all her pent-up frustration and lust. Her palms grip to your thighs, keeping you in place—as if you’re in any condition to move anywhere except for her whim. She’s crashing into you at a punishing pace as a result of keeping yourself away for so long. And she’s being open about it too: “Why did it take us so long—ugh—”
You can only moan back. Truthfully, you’re wondering the same thing too. 
As your eyes alternate between wide open and completely shut, you catch glimpses of Hyewon using every inch of you to fill her wanton pussy with cock. When she’s not cursing or screaming your name, her moans fill your ears with sweet, sultry music. It’s a sound not of her high class image. She’s riding you like it’s life or death, like her heart will stop beating if her cunt isn’t being stretched out.
With every bounce, so do her breasts. Up and down, settling into a rhythm, forming a hypnotic motion that your eyes get lost in. Your obsession reaches a point to where the movement of her tits stirs you on, reigniting your tired muscles. You can’t lie there and be a helpless viewer any longer.
And so, you meet Hyewon halfway, matching the grind of her hips with your thrust at the apex, setting her alight. This particular stroke. The hot sensation. It utterly shatters her. Her voice cracks. She trembles violently, giving you breathing room to sit upward and lean close to her chest. 
So while she staggers back, overwhelmed by your cock spearing her cunt, you go down on her succulent breasts, squishing your face between them. Despite having Hyewon’s body all to yourself, the friction between your bodies creates this wracking storm that drives you insane. It isn’t enough that you’re feasting on her tits, that her boobs are bouncing so hard it’s downright pornographic, and that she’s screaming her heart out in response to each stroke. This will be headline news tomorrow. Yet, none of that is your concern. You have to pour everything into her. It’s now or never.
“Fuck yes—oh fuck—fucking take me—fuck—” Hyewon’s riding your cock, forcing all the air out your lungs, rendering you speechless. Doesn’t matter, you’re drowning in her slick and her tits, pounding away with twice the effort. She’s swearing through her tongue like she’s a cop in a crime picture, biting down on her lip in a flimsy attempt to restrain herself, but anyone with a good ear nearby could have easily identified her voice through the four walls of this hotel room. Knowing her, it’s intentional. She’s determined to put you through a world of trouble, leaving you with no other choice but to shut her up.
And you’re going to do just that.
You end up yanking her by the waist as your bodies repeatedly collide with each other. Each impact the equivalent of a cosmic explosion, the aftermath echoing through the room. The sound of skin slapping skin fills your ears louder than what it seems in the movies. Sex with Hyewon is much, much better than in your fantasies. Here’s another thing that can’t be found on camera: her soft pleas begging you to keep going, interlaced between harsh whines and airy moans that can’t be faked.
“God, I’m gonna fucking cum, Hyewon.” There you go, your silly side showing at such a serious moment. Everyone knows you don’t proclaim your impending climax. Rookie mistake. You’re not shooting a porno, but you might as well be with how hard you’re fucking her. She can’t help but cackle even as you relentlessly pound into her cunt. What should be a moment of weakness immediately gets brushed aside as you hold her when she slams down, and you finally fall apart.
Impaling your cock hilt deep inside Hyewon, you’re digging your palms deep into her soft flesh, unwilling to let go. She rests her head beside yours as you blast her with thick, warm cum. Her prolonged, saccharine-sounding moan is nothing compared to the loaded groan that ripples through the room. The supplication she makes, demanding you to fill her with every little drop goes through deaf ears. Your dick seems to have heard it loud and clear, though. The amount you’re filling her is enough to rip through her body violently too. She follows with her own peak afterwards, hitting a previously unheard octave higher, your bodies finally melting into one. 
Just like that, she’s clinging to you like you’re her personal life support, completely drained of all her strength. 
The ecstasy lasts for a brief moment. The fall off happens too soon for your liking. Like her, you’re sapped of energy and you fall down to earth with Hyewon in your arms. The end comes—not with grandiose drama or spectacle, but by a calm, uneventful stir.
You should be done at this point. It’s been a long day. You’ve been up as early as sunrise, spent hours behind makeup and measuring tape for a suit you won’t wear more than once. Smiling comes natural, if not downright fake; in front of the cameras, on the red carpet, on screen, and even during the afterparties. Every time you step out in public, there’s an image, a reputation to uphold. You’ve done this a dozen times in the past few months alone, bearing a lifetime’s worth of and it never gets more comfortable or easier. It’s a miracle you haven’t cracked or had a public breakdown, even though your mind is calling for it.
And yet, all that labor and agony is worth it for what you have now. The awards, the recognition, the adoration—but most especially the girl. What are you now, taken out of a story. One that feels all too familiar and done to death, but it never grows old or tired. 
By all accounts, it should be a happy ending. 
Except you’re not done. You’re not satisfied, and so is Hyewon. Even though she’s settling down in your embrace, resting her head against your heartbeats, mumbling these sweet nothings about how much you’ve ruined her and fucked her to shreds, she’s quietly begging for more. It isn’t about keeping a sanctimonious image anymore; it’s about how far you’ll push her and use her. Your throbbing cock buried inside her cunt says it too.
If there’s anything you’ve learned about acting, it’s that one take isn’t enough.
Like a damsel in distress, you scoop Hyewon into your arms. Through what you might consider a second wind, you carry her into the bathroom again on wobbly legs, stepping into the shower, showing that you’re ready to take your relationship a step further. You’ll hash out the details in the morning—if she hasn’t left by then.
The sound of running water serves as background for the airy, lewd noises that quickly fill the shower. 
Hyewon feels incredibly soft to touch. Pliable in your grasp, like a doll to bend, twist, and use at your whim. You’re squeezing her flesh, fondling her mounds tightly till you’re seeing red everywhere. Her tits, her shapely ass, and everything in between. Kissing down her body, giving every little part its much needed attention. You’ve fucked her to pieces, yes, but she’s still housing a divine figure that deserves the same level of praise. 
With two fingers stroking at her cunt, she’s keening, her head tilted up to meet the relentless downpour rushing down over your bodies. Her voice is in tatters after an hour of tireless screaming, in addition to all the mindless chatter from earlier tonight. Part of you wishes to have taken up her offer. Something this good shouldn’t be kept secret, but you’re more than selfish enough to keep Hyewon all to yourself. 
Your raging impulse gets the better of you, and you slap her tits from behind. She yelps a cry of pain and pleasure. The recoil and sound activates something in your brain like a sleeper agent. You do it a second time, then a third. You stop counting after, indulging yourself in the satisfying noise of her mounds smacked over and over, every squeal, every strike equally as gratifying as your cock slamming into her pussy. She’s clinging to the walls as a respite, her body shuddering vigorously, but you don’t give her a moment to breathe. It’s what she would have wanted: to be used and taken like a ragdoll.
Hyewon screams again when you swing her around, lifting one leg around your waist, and slam your cock inside her. No pleasantries, no talking through the process—only a desire to fuck. Burying your face against her neck, growling into her skin like a ravenous beast, you hammer away without care for neither your comfort nor hers. You’re counting the hours, minutes, seconds before she disappears from your life, and you’re gonna make sure that years from now, she remembers this night in particular.
You’re too engrossed to see her expressions twist in impossible ways that average humans can make. But that’s the point: Hyewon is no ordinary person. She’s one actress, something that can be found in others who are more talented and have more resounding qualities, but more than that, to you, she’s everything. The clench of her cunt on your cock continues to invigorate you and push you further. With every thrust, she jumps and sends aftershocks coursing through your veins. God, you love how incredibly well she fucking takes it, and the slightest tilt of her lips struggling to form a grin reinforce this. You’ve got nothing else to say, really; you easily lose yourself in your own lust, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
It doesn’t take too long before you feel it again. The end. It’s approaching faster than you can react. You knew it wasn’t going to be a drawn out affair, but you’re so desperate to reach that high, no matter how brief it may be. It was too good to pass up, and you’re beyond waiting a second more.
You’d give everything up for even a single minute longer, but the period of bargaining has long passed you by.
“Gonna cum again—fuck—” is all you can muster, your first words after a long while. Her pussy feels so good to form coherent words. Lust has utterly consumed your brain more than anything. The entire time, Hyewon’s mewling, keening in every direction, trying to find purchase on the walls or the shower door, only to fall a few inches short. She ends up coming back to you, hanging on for dear life. You’ve never let up, terrified that she’ll magically disappear into nothing at any second. 
Acting fast, as if you’ve got a ticking bomb in hand, you draw your cock out, coated in a thick sheen of your own cum and hers, pumping yourself with a few strokes of your hand until you finally explode. The shower washes down the milky white blot you’re unloading on her skin, never leaving a permanent mark. It does, however, bring you back to the place that began your undoing.
The tattoo on her rib. 
Water wipes the cum blocking the view. Despite those same five words occupying your mind for the last few hours, it still hits like a fresh revelation. You hear her voice repeating them inside your head as you come to your senses, your lust being satiated—for now. Even when Hyewon is completely broken before you, reduced to a quiet pile of flesh. One hand on the surrounding wall, the other in limbo, her leg still coiled around your waist, forcing oxygen into her tired lungs wherever she can. 
With the ‘quick’ shower done, and after hardly any cleaning was made, you carry her back to the bedroom. 
You don’t even make it past the living room before your legs finally give up. You end up crashing onto the floor together before you both finally call it a night.
—————
“This is your fault you know,” says Hyewon, drawing circles on your chest, over your calm heartbeats. “I’m supposed to be in London tomorrow for my table read. And yet I’m still here. My flight was five hours ago by the way.”
It’s already high noon when you finally regain consciousness, your head still spinning despite not taking more than one alcoholic drink the night before. Hyewon’s doing marginally better, having woken up 30 minutes earlier. No wonder it feels so hot; her body is snuggled up on you, your limbs tangled. Despite the urgency she’s speaking about, she doesn’t seem to be interested in moving any time soon.
At least you’re awake and sensible enough to fire back. “Who’s fault is that? I wasn’t the one inviting you to come over and have you fucked senseless.”
She chuckles into your skin, little ripples forming where her lips are gently pressed. “And I wasn’t the one who spent the last 18 months saying we’re just friends.”
You’re already lying flat on the floor, but the rebuttal only makes you want to get up only to fall back down. So you settle with an expressive sigh. 
Hyewon laughs. It’s what won over millions, including you. You’re taken back to that fateful day you first met. Right then and there, you knew there’d be no one else like her. If given an opportunity to go back and change a few things here and there or, you’d do it over again, mistakes included. Last night was worth all the waiting and teasing. 
“So—about that show,” you lean up, pushing her closer to your face, “What was it again? Something about you being a nymphomaniac? Delete what?”
“You mean Delete This? Let’s not.” 
Mention of the premise alone is enough to set her gummy cheeks on fire. For someone whose career has been built up on mostly more general audience friendly programming, leading a sexual soap opera is quite the jump.  
She buries her head on your neck, embarrassed, feeling guilty. “Yeah. I mean, last night was—different, you know? I’ve shown my tits and body already, but I’ve never had sex—on screen before.”
You should have known. She needed a reason to get in your pants without your working relationship only centering around your bodies. And those were clearly stand-ins based on how her face is never shown during her older scenes.
“Jesus, Hyem. If you wanted to have sex, you could have asked anytime. You have no idea how annoyed I was when they scrapped our scene last minute. It was only you taking off your shirt too.”
“On the bright side, we didn’t have an intimacy director getting in the way, right?”
She does have a point. Still, your personal cold war didn’t need to last 18 months before either of you would make the first move.
But with all that tension a thing of the past, the chains are unfettered. Now both of you have the ability to take this little secret in any direction you desire. You could simply be a workplace couple; it’s been the story of your year so far. Or you could take things a step further. The possibilities are truly endless.
Hyewon’s cheeky grin slowly reforms, her hand snaking up to cup your cheek. “Shame we only had one night. I could spend the rest of the day here, but—” she huffs, “I’m running late. Too bad I won’t get to have this cock for a long, long time.”
You lift an amused eyebrow, barely able to keep your new cockiness from showing. “Will you, though?”
She’s taken completely by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Check your phone.”
After rising to her feet, Hyewon walks over to the console table where her purse is set. Fishing her phone from the handbag, she scrolls through the apps, her attention di–vided between the screen and you on the floor, finally getting up as well. 
Her stare then lingers on the phone, as if whatever headline of the day has caught her attention. 
Next thing you know, she’s grabbing you by the chest, dragging you back to the bedroom before shoving you back onto the mattress—right where you belong. Pinning you down and dead to rights, Hyewon mounts herself on your lap, your cock pressed against her aching core, ready to receive a fresh beating.
Some jokes can go a little too far.
“You fucking asshole. You mean that—”
“Yep.”
“And it’s not—”
“It’s not.”
You can feel her hips slowly grinding against yours. You’re gonna love—and hate—the next 18 months with Hyewon.
“I’m going to kill you. And I mean: kill you.”
“No better way to go out.”
—————
(A/N: Thank you for the commission! That Hyewon dress is so ripe for material, and I had to incorporate her tattoos into it somehow. She doesn't show them quite often—heck, she hasn't publicly addressed them even once, I believe. That little nod at the end is for everyone still waiting for Delete this to return. At this point, a reimagining or remake must happen first before the next actual episode because good God my writing back then versus now is night & day. Even comparing the last update from 2022(?) to today is also radically different in style. I'm still interested in reviving it; it's just a matter of when, not if. Thank you for reading!)
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sanguineterrain · 11 months ago
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restroom attendant | jason todd
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Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.
A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)
the divider
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Tonight sucks. 
With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years. 
Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.
You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you. 
You’re starting to think this city is cursed.
The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.
A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily. 
Yep. Definitely cursed.
"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."
He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress. 
"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor. 
"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”
“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”
“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"
Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.
"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs. 
"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."
Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.
“Motherfucker,” you whisper. 
Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.
“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”
“No,” you say, voice shaky.
His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”
“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”
Red Hood gives the room a onceover. 
“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails. 
“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.” 
“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse. 
“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”
Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet. 
“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”
“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask. 
Hood jerks, turning back to you.
“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”
You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”
He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers. 
“How come?” Hood asks.
You shake your head. “It's nothing.”
“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”
“I'm not in danger. I…”
You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.
What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry. 
“I got dumped,” you say. 
“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”
Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.
You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. 
“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”
You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.
“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”
“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling. 
“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach. 
“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.
Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”
You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles. 
Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”
You catch your breath and wave your hand. 
“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”
“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”
“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”
You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.
“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”
You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”
“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”
“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face. 
“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”
Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.
“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”
You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”
“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”
You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”
“You’d win that bet. But I—”
The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you. 
“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”
Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.” 
He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”
You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”
Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”
“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”
He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit. 
You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you. 
Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.
“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”
“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”
“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.
“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”
“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”
He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper. 
“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”
Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you. 
“Thank you,” you say quietly. 
He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.
“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”
Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes. 
Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in. 
You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.
“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu. 
“I didn’t order this,” you say.
“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.” 
“Oh. Thank you.”
You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.
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paradiseismine · 3 months ago
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Finnverse kinks - Headcanons
Pairing: Finnverse characters x f!reader
Warnings: pretty spicy (duh), but no actual smut scenes.
Summary: kinks I believe each Finn character would have hehehe
Love note from Nina: would you like me to turn each kink into a full fic? let me know, lovelies!
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Boris Pavlikovsky
💋 SUI (sex under the influence)
We all know that he’s a stoner, but Boris lovesss to see you all sensitive from some MDMA, shivering and moaning at the softest graze of his fingers; or laughing while riding him with a joint in your hand (he thinks you look specially sexy while doing it). Boris is already insatiable sober, but when you get high with him is a whole different story - let’s just say you’ll be really satisfied (and well, a bit sore) the next morning.
💋 Pet kink
He’ll call you bunny, kitty and other pet animal names. He got you a choker that resembles a collar, and you wear it nearly every time you two have sex. He’ll pull your face closer to his by your collar, telling you to be a good pet and do as he says. It all started with him jokingly saying that you were an animal in bed, but as time went on, he got a bit more literal with that.
💋 Daddy kink
Expect that delicious Russian accent to tell you to “cum for daddy” or to “come suck dick for daddy” multiple times during your intimacy. And of course, you have to call him daddy as well, giving him the “yes sir”, and the big pleading eyes.
If you don’t oblige, he’ll flip you over his lap and spank you until you call him daddy. “What did you want from daddy, my little girl?” and you’ll babble, so horny you’ll sound drunk “Your cock, daddy, I need your cock in my pussy, need you to stretch out my little hole real good, please”
Mike Wheeler
💋 (Not so) secret hickeys/love bites
Mikey absolutely loves to mark you as his, leaving little purple bruises on your neck, on your breasts or on your shoulders. He won’t say it to your face, but if he left a hickey on your breasts and you decide to wear a low cut shirt later that day, showing off the bruise to all of your friends, he’ll fuck you extra hard when you two get alone. Something about other people seeing how you belong to him sends this boy over the edge, and it’s his pleasure to let you know how he feels.
💋 Risky sex
Oh, so you two are going to the movies? Make sure to wear a skirt, and make sure it’s shorter this time, so you won’t draw so much attention when he starts fingering your pussy and making you stifle your moans halfway through the movie. Going camping? Good, he always wanted to get his dick sucked under a tree beneath the stars.
Basically, Mikey wants to have you in places where you two could possibly get caught, that thrill gets him rock hard in a second - and let’s face it, you have a lot of fun with it too.
💋 Panties in his pocket
Now, if you really want to drive Mike wild, try going to the bathroom, taking off your panties and sneaking them in the back pocket of his pants. You did this once at a friend’s house party, and the way he fucked you afterwards still gives you chills just thinking about it.
You can do that at a restaurant, at a trip or something along those lines - knowing you’re so naughty just for him, and so eager for him to please you that you can’t even keep your underwear on is sure to make him lose his mind. He’ll grab you by the hips as soon as you’re alone and whisper to your ear, “Does my princess need her man to take care of her, yeah? I got you, sweet girl”
Miles Fairchild
💋 Shibari
It goes without saying that this one here is a dom - we all know it by now - but he absolutely loves to tie you up. Mostly he uses actual ropes, but he has bought a myriad of different materials to tie you up with, just to, you know, switch things up. He’ll tie you up to the ceiling, completely naked, and fuck you without moving a muscle himself, just from your swinging at the ropes. He’ll bounce you on his cock and say something like “ah, now you’re just the way I like it, all exposed and tied up for me to use, my little puppet sex doll”
💋 Free use
Speaking of “use”, Miles loves some free use. He loves to lower your pants or lift up your dress out of the blue and fuck you senseless. He’ll also lower your top’s spaghetti straps and suckle on your boobs like a starving baby whenever he wants, stroking himself in the mean time.
It goes both ways, though: you’re free to pump him hard and make him fuck your tight slit as much as you want and whenever you want, or force his face onto your pussy to get him to eat you out. He basically never says no, and is always eager to please his slutty princess however she wants.
💋 Knife play
He gets all hot and heavy when you declutter your closet: that means that some old/stained clothes, that would normally be discarded, now get to be cut through by his knife. Miles gets FERAL when you let him cut through your clothes to undress you. It’s all about how dominant he feels doing that.
On special occasions, you’d even let him do a small cut on a less visible/less prone to excessive bleeding part of your body. That boy is a sucker for your blood and will lick it all off in a split second.
Trevor Spengler
💋 Soft domination
Trev is a softer dom - he’s way more likely to praise you instead of degrading you and doesn’t leave as many bruises or marks on your body, preferring his dominance to be more mental. But you must remember: he’s in charge, and he’ll gladly remind you of that if you dare forget it for a mere second.
Prepare yourself for some hair pulling, sensual biting, spanking and harsh groping, lotsss of getting asked “whose pussy is this, baby girl?” and “all wet and needy, aren’t you? what should I do to you first?” as his delicious raspy voice makes your brain melt away with lust.
💋 Breeding
Huge breeding kink, this one. It all boils down to his “modern hero” nature - he wants to save you, to protect you, to be your lifeline. And knowing that you would potentially trust him to father your children drives this boy wild.
He’ll always say things like “You got such a tight little pussy, princess, can I cum inside you already?”, “I’m gonna fill you up to the brim tonight, love” or “I’m gonna pump you so full of my cum, you won’t even be able to hold it all inside you”. So, uh…Pulling out? Not his game. Your pussy leaking with his cum and it dripping down your legs the whole day sounds way more fun.
💋 Car sex
The Ectomobile and Trevor have a long history together by now, and he wants you to be part of it. Whether you are sitting on the hood of the car or bent over it, or lying on the backseat, or got one leg to each side of his waist behind the steering wheel, Trev will never deny any sexual advances in his car. Quickies? Long, elaborate sex? He’s down. Sucking his dick while he drives is a particular favorite, and it makes him cum a lot sooner than usual, he just can’t hold it in - you look so hot, so slutty, so submissive doing that, he loves it.
Ziggy Katz
💋 Sex tape kink
Besides also liking nudes and sexting, it’s when you’re home and his camera is fully charged that this boy gets the most throbbing erections. You don’t even have to actually press the record button if you don’t want to, but just the fantasy of recording or (even better) live-streaming your sex makes Ziggy feel like he might explode. He’ll tell you to “smile for the camera” as he cums in your face, get you on all fours and pound into your pussy from behind as you moan and watch your own face contort in pleasure by looking at the camera’s viewfinder.
💋 Exhibitionism
Filming your intimacy is merely a small part of Ziggy’s main kink: exhibitionism. He absolutely loves to discreetly grab your butt in public while you two walk together, to swiftly get his hand under your skirt while kissing at a corner of a party, all that silly stuff. He just wants everyone to know he bagged such a babe. You’re so pretty he still can’t believe you like him and wanted to be his girlfriend - so now he’s gotta show you off as much as he can (well, as much as you’ll let him, ‘cause this boy would fuck you in front of an audience if he could).
💋 Feet
Ziggy will kiss your feet whenever they’re reachable when you two are getting it on. He’ll always compliment your pedicure, call you his goddess, say how soft and beautiful your feet are. Occasionally, he’ll ask for a footjob, saying things like “You’re so gorgeous, love, I bet you could make me cum using only your feet” or “let’s put that red pedicure you just got for a better use, huh?” He just worships you all over, but there’s something about your feet that gets him specially hard.
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itostea · 1 year ago
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better than me?
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Gojo comes home to find you fangirling over a book character named Aaron Warner
warnings: uni! au, reader is called pretty girl, fluff, idiots in love, idk what this even is
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Unread messages. One Five missed calls. No good morning or good night texts.
As of late, Satoru thinks you’ve been distant towards him–ghosting him while he was suffering on a trip his parents forced him to go to. It gets to the point where he thinks he did something to upset you and before he can drive himself mad with far-fetched possibilities, he thinks he should check up on you.
“Honey I’m back!” He bellows out, discarding his shoes to the side of his apartment that you practically live in now. His brows furrow at the lack of response, a bit disappointed at the fact that you could’ve been out. 
It’s only when he catches a whiff of your shampoo and perfume that he allows himself to grin. His place was already overtaken by your presence: the scent of vanilla, the sweaters you leave neatly folded on the couch whenever it got too hot, the extra toothbrush in his bathroom. He missed you. 
He rushes to the living room, his entrance dramatic as his words. “There you are! Why weren’t you there to greet me at the door? Do you not love me anymore?”
“Oh ‘Toru,” You mumbled absentmindedly and it only took him a while to catch sight of the book in your hands–considering the fact his eyes landed on your (his) hoodie you wore. “You’re back. How was your trip?” 
He frowns, his lips parting to release a sigh. “That’s it?”
His heart does something funny when you finally look up at him, tilting your head in genuine confusion. “Hm?”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“Wait one sec let me finish this chapter first, Satoru.”
It’s ‘Toru, 'he wants to say but settles on walking to where you sit, his eyes landing on the stack of books on the table–most of which seem to be of the romance genre. There’s a colorful display of sticky tabs decorating the pages of the book and a pen you keep close to you. He leans down to squat, his fingers playing with the book tabs–his mind wandering to the time you mentioned reading to him. “I thought you were reading literature. Like Shakespeare or I don’t know! Not sappy books about love.”
“Sappy books about love is literature. And who reads Shakespeare for fun?”
“Like I would know,” he mutters, standing up to walk behind the couch where he can get a peek of the pages–an offended laugh escaping his lips the moment he sees what scene you were reading so seriously. He easily steals the book out of your hands, ignoring your protests. “So Aaron Warner huh?”
“I was reading that!”
“Baby I can’t believe you were ignoring my messages for this,” he clicks his tongue. “This is worse than catching you make out with another man.”
“Okay that’s a bit of a stretch and besides, you go on trips all the time. Also, who would I even make out with?”
“Aaron Warner!”
You roll your eyes. “Satoru, he’s literally words on paper.”
He narrows his eyes at you and for a moment, you think he’s going to stop. Yet, he continues to observe the stack of books on the table all over again. “So that’s what my money goes towards? Books about other men–”
“Hey! I bought these books with my own money!”
“Oh,” he huffs, suddenly looking insulted. “So you don’t spend my money?”
Your lips release an annoyed groan and you roll your eyes for the nth time–wondering how his mood was all over the place. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 
“Why do you need to read about Aaron Warner when you have me?” He says, climbing over the couch to sit next to you. You don’t object when he easily props you on his lap and discards the book to the side–his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Your heart clenches at the feeling of his hands gripping your hips as if it were second nature to him–how he looked at you like he had the world on his lap. 
You clear your throat, not able to resist the urge to tease him. “You know. I wish I had a strong, handsome man holding me right now.”
“What? Like Aaron Warner?”
“That’d be great actually–” Your words die on your lips as he begins his assault of kisses on your face–peppering them along your jaw and neck. Gojo can’t help but smile against your neck at the sound of your surprised laughter, his head coming up so he can flash you a boyish grin. 
“Still think he’s better than me sweetheart?”
“You’re jealous of literal words on paper!” You try to retort, your lips a bit swollen and your hair fairly all over the place. He can’t help but press another wet kiss to your cheek, laughing at your sound of disgust.
“So what if I’m jealous? My girl’s not paying attention to me squealing over–”
“I was not squealing–!”
“--Squealing over a book character,” he finishes, taking his hands off your hips to cross them.
You frown, heaving a sigh at the sight of him–a bit affected by the loss of warmth his hands provided. You open your arms, looking at him expectedly. “Fine. I’m sorry I didn’t respond to your messages or calls while you were on your trip, in your billion dollar vacation house by the way.”
He only huffs at your sarcasm but you don’t miss the way his lips twitch in amusement. “And?”
“And,” you roll your eyes again. “I’m sorry I said Aaron Warner was better than you. So you can please just hold me again?”
Your boyfriend watches you carefully, pretending to sulk at the sight of your teasing smile. You’re cold to the touch–your hands and feet always contrasting the warmth of his own. You still smell like yourself but he likes how he can catch a whiff of the body wash he uses on you. I miss you, is what his hug says. 
His arms easily flip you on your back as he presses his weight over you, his grin wide and lovesick. “You know what? I think I might read the book myself to see what’s so special about this Aaron guy.”
You laugh. “Are you being for real?”
“For real, real, pretty girl.”
Bonus:
It’s been a week since Satoru’s returned from his trip and you’re starting to think he likes the books a bit too much. And you’re still convinced he’s not over your petty argument about Aaron Warner–seeing as he rushes to you on a peaceful evening. 
“You wanna know something sweetheart?”
“What is it now ‘Toru,” you groan, having just woken up from your nap. 
“Aaron Warner’s only 5’9.”
“What about it?”
“I’m 6’3.”
“...” 
“...”
“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”
“Add that onto the list “Why Toru is better than Aaron Warner.”
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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 3 months ago
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𝑲𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝑲𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒚-!! ≽^•⩊•^≼
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synopsis: L&Ds men interactions when you get a cat!
tags: fluff, nothing suggestive very cute and wholesome
a/n: rare blue moon occasion where i write fluff LMAO but this was toooo cute of a request
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𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓
Gets a little too jealous.
You’d never seen him like this, especially over a pet.
When you got pet fish he never batted an eye, even offering to feed it or get some decorations for your tank.
But with your new kitty, he thinks you spend far too much time with it.
Insisting it needs to “learn how to live” by itself, but when you tell him the same he pouts.
When you end up falling asleep on the couch, circled up with kitty on your lap, he’ll scowl; trying to slowly place himself behind you and nap alongside you, quickly getting hissed off. The cat could definitely feel Xavier’s resentment.
You walked into quite the spectacle the other day, hearing mumbling coming from your living room while you exited your bed.
As if Xavier was talking on the phone, but it was the cat…
You lurk behind the wall, seeing him seated criss cross on the floor, dancing a treat infront the cats mouth, “Alright…today you’ll leave us alone okay…and more treats…” he whispers, repeating over and over as if its interested in anything but the treats.
𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
He took it like how you thought…you’d wake up too many times to see him crawling over you to the other side of the bed if your kitty slept near him.
Always wondering how you’d let such a “beast” sleep next to you while in a most vulnerable state.
When you were in be shower you thought you heard an entire crime scene go down.
But when you exited the bathroom, hair wet and soap still dripping down your legs with a towel around you…It was Rafayel calling for you.
“It’s- It’s licking me! Make it stop- You monster!!! No don’t go near the paint- Y/n-!”
He’d spend time lecturing the cat as if it could understand him, arms crossed and all…what a drama queen.
𝑺𝒚𝒍𝒖𝒔
He pampers it like it’s your child. He was “annoyed” at first, he likes cats maybe even more than the next guy but he believes they’re predators who can fend for themselves, and deserve respect for their resilience.
All that chatter yet you find your own cat with a collar that costs your entire paycheck. Matching bowls, toys, scratching posts, and even a self cleaning litter box.
You found that Sylus likes to spoil everything he likes.
When you took him to the supermarket to buy treats for the kitty, you tried to make sensible but generous choices, picking up a pretty good brand according to some internet forums.
As you held it in your hand you saw Sylus look at you with a face of disgust. He took it from you slowly, pinching it from the top like it was disease ridden, “…What kind of garbage is that….we can’t feed this them this?” He says, opting for the most expensive bag of treats you layed your eyes on. “We should just have the chefs make fresh treats next time…”
So now you and your cat are both resident sugar babies.
𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
Is often very fond of it, but sometimes there’s mild jealous. he’s not the jealous one, nor is the cat…
It seemed a little odd to you, how Zayne would sit on the other end of the couch and keep it company during your movie nights.
He’d feed it, pet it, bathe it even!
The cat was basically his now…
One time you called Zayne, frantic and scared thinking she ran away.
He assured you that she was actually just at the hospital with him…for some odd reason. He claimed the cat wouldn’t let him leave your home that morning without coming along.
When you tried to coerce the kitty to come back with you, you thought you’d bring her “favorite” toy.
“No- no she doesn’t like that one…”
And then- he pulled out a rattling toy from his office desk to entertain her with.
This cats got good taste in men you suppose.
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whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
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niallsgoldhoop · 10 months ago
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CHANNING
a harry styles one shot seven thousand words cw - sexual content, alcohol, harsh language, spitting, spanking, choking,
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“I can’t believe you almost missed this.” Looking over at me, the dark eyes of my closest friend shine under the overhead lights. “I mean, come on— It’s Harryween.”
Using my pinky to perfect the edge of the color as I look in the mirror, I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Okay well I couldn’t let this costume go to waste.”
“Honestly.” Adjusting the straps of her angel wings, she laughs. “It’s perfect.”
Tucking a lock of wavy copper hair behind my ear, the green foliage sewed to the leather top last minute contrasts against my porcelain skin in the best way.
As soon as the decision was made— the costume just happens to fall into place.
It took me less than a day to buy the ivy from a local craft store along with the needle and thread. Deep in the back of my closet there was a black leather corset, the kind that fastened in a line of delicate hooks up the front, one that pushed my breasts up even higher than normal. Pairing that with the black leather skirt that hit the middle of my thighs seemed like the only option that made sense.
Less than two hours sitting on my couch and watching Succession later and all of the ivy had been sewn into place. After a little maneuvering I even managed to turn the broad, verdant colored leaves to a makeshift garter for each of my thighs.
Standing here in this bathroom and looking at my reflection, the extra ivy twisting from the top of the high topped canvas sneakers on my feet, I can’t help but smile at how good it looks snaking over my toned calves and thick thighs.
Poison Ivy.
“We better get down to the pit before it gets too crazy.” With a wide smile on her face, I laugh along with her as her fingers tangle with mine, pulling me along. “If we’re lucky we can get close to the barricade.”
Staying close behind her, the two of us manage to squeeze through the sea of people, finding a spot in the pit good enough that we would be able to get a decent view.
I’d been to plenty of shows before but it felt like nothing compared to the pit at a Harry Styles show.
Even as the show eventually starts, it’s clear that everyone got the memo to dress up and seeing the man of the hour— I’m so glad this is where I ended up.
The way he looks tonight should be illegal.
The way he’s looking at me?
Criminal.
Up on the stage, I make eye contact with him again as he passes by, my body heating under his gaze for what feels like the millionth time.
“God, he keeps looking at you!” The girl with two boas and a pink cowboy hat next to me says, her eyes wide. “What the fuck?!”
I feel my lips as they turn into a smirk, raising my eyes back to the stage to see him in front of me again.
Being so close to the barricade was an accident. Somehow, someway we managed to make out way closer and closer as the night went on. Dancing with everyone around us all night has been the best part of the show.
Well… That and seeing Harry dressed in the most delicate and detailed costume.
A clown with the prettiest cream fabrics and lace along with the most perfect moon and stars offsetting the lighter colors with their darkness. Even his cheeks have the rosiest hue— complete with little pearl drops along his cheeks and above his brows.
Nothing too scary, but something just sexy enough.
As he plays the song everyone longs to hear, this time when lyrics roll off of his heart shaped lips in front of me, there’s no mistaking it.
‘And when I sleep, I'm gonna dream of how you —‘
Eyes set on mine, he brings the tip of each finger to his flattened tongue, a tease of how he would certainly be able to please between the sheets.
Rolling my eyes as my best friend grabs my arm, her fingers pressing into the bare skin of my bicep, I find his gaze lingering before he moves on — deciding to entertain the other side of his stage before making his exit.
It feels like the scene of a documentary as the end of the show finally unfolds and people make their way from the stadium, a mass of people all looking for something to get them as high as the feeling Harry Styles gives them.
Laughing on the way out, I give the longest hugs that I can manage before slipping out into the night to find the small bar that has always welcomed me on a night like tonight.
A night when I’m not ready to dream quite yet.
Between the way the city never sleeps and the people out for their own version of tricks and treats, it feels like hours before I find what I’m looking for even if it’s not terribly far away from where I started.
Still dressed in the costume I threw together at the last minute, I don’t even find myself caring much about that. People from all across the city are dressed in various Halloween get ups— making it that much easier to blend in.
Even if the majority of my skin feels like it’s on display.
Smiling as I grip the door handle, it’s the large hand that covers mine that makes my heart race.
The anchor tattoo.
The mermaid.
The cross.
Turning on my heel, the same eyes that looked into mine in front of thirty thousand people trace over my face — over my freckles, over my cheekbones… Over my lips.
“It’s you.” Low and raspy, the accent drips off his lips as they turn into a sinister grin.
Rolling my tongue along the inside of my cheek, I watch his eyes follow the movement as I press through the door and let him follow.
“It’s me.”
The bar is small and dimly lit, the best place to come if you don’t want to be found.
I’ve come here for years, a product of begging to be lost.
Turning my back on him, I make my way to the bar and sit on one of the stools, smiling as the bartender makes his way down to me. I can feel Harry’s presence as he slides onto the stool next to me, his thigh brushing against the skin of my thigh that my skirt doesn’t cover.
“Hey, babe.” Leaning over the bar and kissing my cheek, the familiar face behind the bar places a shot glass on the counter before filling it with tequila and placing a lime along the rim, sliding it to me. “How was your night?”
My face turns towards the man next to me, his features sharper in the low light as he studies me carefully before I look away from him with a shrug. “It was okay.”
A laugh falls from his lips as he leans into me, his lips brushing against my ear. “Okay? Is that all you have to say about me?”
“Maybe it is.” My shoulders lift in a shrug as I turn to face him, reaching for the shot and taking it, watching Harry as his eyes focus on my lips where I taste the lime. “Why? Are your feelings hurt?”
Catching the attention of the person behind the bar, those mossy eyes hold mine as he orders. “Can I please have four shots of tequila?”
“You alright with this guy, Chan?” Looking between the two of us, his eyes narrow in Harry’s direction.
I laugh. “We’re good. You can pull your best friend shit somewhere else.”
Rolling his eyes, he pours the shots out for the two of us. Leaving a small bowl of salt and limes before making his back to the other end of the bar.
“Chan?” Harry’s voice is rich and smooth, just like you always hear about. “Is that short for Chandler?”
I shake my head as I bring my hand up and flatten my tongue before running it across the back of my hand, eyes locked on his. “No, it’s not.”
“Are you going to tell me?” Watching my every move, his green eyes watch as I pinch salt between my fingers and let it fall to my skin.
“Should I?” Once again, I flatten my tongue across the same spot and taste the salt before picking up the small glass of liquor, tipping it back and letting it burn down my throat. “What’s in it for me if I do?”
Tension unlike I’ve ever known settled between us.
Somewhere my brain tells me to be careful, but the reckless part of me says that sometimes things are just meant to happen.
The odds of running into a man like him are practically zero. Yet here I am with flushed skin from the warmth of his proximity.
I reach for the lime but Harry beats me to it, holding it between his thumb and forefinger and pressing the acidic fruit to my bottom lip, eyes begging for me to open for him.
“Suck.”
Wrapping my fingers around his wrist, I flick my tongue across the broad side of the lime before wrapping my lips around it and following the simple instructions.
“So you do know how to listen.” Harry pulls his hand away from me before dropping the fruit back into the empty shot glass.
Tilting my head back, I laugh.
Pressing my hand on his thigh and leaning forward, this time my lips brush against his ear. “I only listen when I feel like it.”
“Hmm.” He hums as he leans back, eyes looking over my body. “Do you feel like listening tonight?”
I shake my head as he reaches for my hand and pulls me in close, his eyes burning through me as his tongue darts out and presses to my skin along my forearm. Holding me in place and using his other hand, he easily sprinkles the salt along my heated skin before flattening his tongue and tasting it.
My breath hitches in my throat as his fingers tip the glass back, taking the lime and holding it out for me. Taking the hint, I bite onto it and lean towards him letting him take it from me with a smug grin on his face. His lips brush against mine for only a moment before he leans away from me, sucking the juice out of the fruit to chase the bitter taste of the liquor. “Come on, tell me your name.”
“I’ll tell you on one condition.” Squeezing his thigh, I brush my lips against the base of his throat, smiling when I feel him swallow thickly.
“And what’s that?” Gripping my chin, Harry tilts my head backwards and grins at me, his notorious bunny teeth biting into his bottom lip.
I roll my tongue along my bottom lip, watching as his eyes drop to my mouth. “You keep staring at my lips like you want them to do something.”
“Yeah?” His grip on my chin tightens. “What if I want to put them to work?”
I lick my bottom lip as my breathing shallows, giving Harry the opportunity to press his thumb into the small bowl of salt and brush it along my bottom lip. “I’d say you talk a lot for someone who hasn’t made a move yet.”
Harry’s eyes darken as he leans in, flicking his tongue along my bottom lip and tasting the salt. Reaching for one of the last two shots that he ordered, I watch as he pours the liquid into his mouth before using his thumb to pull on my bottom lip in a silent request.
Running my tongue along my lower lip and opening my mouth for him, I can’t even be bothered to be surrounded by other people or the sound that comes from the back of my mouth when he spits the liquor onto my waiting tongue.
Grabbing the lime and holding it against the skin of my throat, I’m almost embarrassed by the whimper that falls from my lips when he squeezes the wedge and his warm tongue catches the juice as it rolls down the column of my throat as I swallow.
“That’s right… Swallow for me, pretty girl.”
I can barely register his words before his lips are on mine and I can taste the flavor on his tongue as it finds mine, one of his hands sliding back into the waves at the nape of my neck and the other slipping just under the hem of my skirt and past the dark leaves of my costume.
He kisses me hard and with no abandon, as if he wants nothing more than to devour me. Leaning closer to him and hooking my finger into the waistband of his pants, I moan lightly when his teeth drag across my bottom lip.
“I need to get you alone.” He mumbles, his hand sliding along the inside of my thigh as his fingertips dance across my skin. “Need you on your knees while I watch those lips wrap around me.
I gasp when he drops his lips to my neck, nipping and sucking my skin. “There’s a private bathroom in the office— fuck, down the hall.”
Leaving the last shot, Harry takes my hand and pulls me towards the hallway that leads us in the right direction. With his arms wrapping around my body from behind, once we stop just long enough for me to punch in the code for the keypad I can feel him hard and ready behind me.
“If you don’t hurry, I’m going to take you right fucking here.” Nipping my earlobe, Harry plays with the hem of my skirt as his hand grips my throat and turns my head to the side, giving him more access. “How many ways are you going to let me fuck you, pretty girl?”
“Fuck.” Punching the last number into the keypad, when it beeps twice and I turn the handle, it opens easily.
We barely make it into the room and slam the door before Harry turns on me, pressing my body into the door and pressing his thigh between my legs, pinning me in place.
His mouth is on mine in a messy and hungry kiss all while his hands take their time exploring my body. From my breasts to my ass, not one place goes unnoticed by his skilled hands.
“This fucking costume.” Bringing the skin at the base of my throat between his teeth only to soothe it with his tongue, I shiver when he drags his finger along the top of the ivy, digging behind it enough to trace my skin. “People think that it’s so bright on stage and that I can’t see, but I do — I fucking see everything.”
Kissing under my jaw, his hands work the hooks that line the front of the top, one by one. “Tell me what you saw, Harry.
“You want to know?” Dragging his tongue across the swell of my breasts, I reach up and run my nails across his scalp, making him moan. “I saw you, dressed in this—“ Releasing the last button and letting the top of the corset fall to the floor, Harry cups both of my breasts and squeezes them, pinching each nipple at the same time. “I watched you dance, seeing your perfect ass sway from side to side like you didn’t give a single fuck that I was on that stage.”
Dropping down, Harry runs his tongue across the sensitive peak a moment before taking it between his teeth, pulling back enough to make me gasp. “I didn’t— I was more of a Niall girl—”
“Beautiful and bratty, huh?” His fingers find my throat as I smile, pressing into my skin just enough that my lips part on an exhale from the rush. “The only name that's going to come off your lips tonight is mine.”
“You seem so—.” My thoughts all but disappear when I feel Harry reach down and slip his hand under the tight material of my skirt after tracing the edge of the garter along my thighs.
Taking my nipple back into his mouth and teasing, he pulls back to look at me as his knuckle presses into my clit over the fabric of my underwear. “I seem so what, Chan? You won’t even tell me your name yet here you are — dripping down the inside of your thighs for me.”
“So full of yourself.” I finally get out. “Maybe you really are an arrogant son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
Pushing the fabric aside, Harry doesn’t even pace himself, sliding two fingers deep inside of me and making me cry out as his thumb circles my clit with so much pressure it borders pain. “You have no fucking idea.”
“Harry—“ I moan.
Curling his fingers, I feel like my body is on overdrive as he works an orgasm out of my body quicker than even I’ve been able to do it. . “Come on my fingers for me, baby. Let me feel it.”
Reaching out and gripping his shoulders, I can see the dark evergreen of his eyes just on the rim of his blown out pupils under the lights as his breath comes out shallow, the muscles under his skin flexing as he works me even harder through my orgasm.
Once my body loses all of the tension I tip forward into Harry’s arms with a laugh. “Jesus.”
“Yeah? That good?” He smirks as he wraps my hair around his fist. Once, twice. “Chan, I need to ask you something.”
I nod, my eyes the only things he’s focused on. “Now you want to ask questions?”
“I’m serious.” His nose brushes mine before he places a soft kiss to my lips, a complete contrast to the way he just coaxed a release from my body. “I need to know that if you don’t like something or you want me to stop that you’ll tell me, okay?”
I nod, pressing another soft kiss to his lips, taking my time to enjoy the way his tongue feels moving with mine. “I promise.”
“Are you sure?” His eyes burn into my features looking for any sign of hesitance.
“I’m sure.” Getting impatient, I nip his bottom lip. “Now, are you going to fuck me or stand here and be a gentleman all night? Which one is it?”
“Such a fucking mouth on you.” Flexing his hand in my hair and pulling tighter, there’s no option but for me to sink to my knees as Harry guides me. “I hope you know how to use it for more than just your attitude.”
Sitting back on my heels, I lick my lips. “Only one way to find out.”
“Go on then.” Nodding towards his straining cock beneath the fabric of his pants, he waits for me to undo the button. “Let me watch you choke on my cock so that you can’t talk back to me.”
When my hands finally free him, I whimper at the same time Harry’s groan fills the small office. Leaking with precome, I flick the tip of my tongue to collect the pearly drops.
“Pinch my thigh if it gets to be too much, yeah?” Using his hand that doesn’t still have my hair wrapped around his fist, he cups my jaw and runs his thumb across my cheek as I nod. “Be a good girl and open your mouth for me.”
Taking Harry into my mouth, I wish I could take a picture of how he looks from this angle. His head tilts back as a moan curves around his lips, I swear to god I’ve never seen anything sexier in my entire life. Pushing his hips forward slowly, I hollow my cheeks as I use my tongue to feel every single ridge and vein he has to offer me. My hands rest on his thighs as he drops his head down and meets my gaze.
“I’m going to go harder, is that okay?” With his cock still in my mouth, I nod. “Good fucking girl, good girl.”
Harry pushes his thighs even deeper, groaning at the feeling of his cock sliding down the back of my throat and making the muscles constrict around him from the intrusion. It feels like so much pressure and not enough at the same time as he repeats the action. Tears form in my waterline as I choke over and over, the tears spilling out onto my cheeks.
“See how good you're taking my cock down your pretty little throat?” Sliding his hand from my cheek, I moan around him as his hand rests across my throat. “Fuck, are you going to swallow for me?”
I choke once more, nodding.
“Good.”
It’s one word that precedes his release, one that I make good on my promise and swallow every drop of.
Once Harry pulls back, I take a deep breath and look up to him for only a moment before he pulls me to my feet and spins us around. Lifting me up and sitting me onto the desk, stepping between my legs and tracing his fingers over the edges of the ivy still wrapped around me.
Instantly his lips are on mine, groaning at his own tastes as he reaches between my legs and pushes the material of the leather skirt up, his fingers finding the sensitive nerve at the apex of my thighs as my hips roll forward to meet the friction.
“Are you this wet for me?” Lips ghosting over mine, his fingers find my nipple, pinching. “Do you want a taste?”
“Yes, please.” I say, looking into his eyes as he brings his fingers up, smearing the arousal across my bottom lip before kissing me again.
It’s impossible not to feel crazed as his hands fall to my thighs and push up my skirt, watching as it bunches up around my hips. “Lay back for me.”
Placing his hand in the center of my chest, I fall back onto the desk and whimper when I feel his warm lips leaving lingering kisses along the inside of my thighs.
“Look at you, so willing to let me do whatever I want with you tonight. I don’t even want to unwrap this pretty package you’ve put on for me.” His breath ghost across my center, the anticipation making me feel like I could explode at any minute. “I guess I got lucky— finding you on a night where you want to listen. A night where you want to be told what to do. Am I right?”
Harry doesn’t give the time to formulate an answer, his tongue immediately pressing into my clit before sucking it into his mouth. The action takes me by surprise as my back arches off the desk and my hands search for anything to hold onto.
Dragging patterns across the nerve, I cry out his name as he devours me like he’s never done before. As he releases my clit, his tongue finds my entrance and makes a languid path through my arousal before reaching the place I want him the most.
Up and down.
Side to side.
The stimulation makes my thighs shake as he tugs my hips toward him until my ass hangs off the desk and he pulls my dripping cunt even further into his face.
“Harry, fuck.” My hands flip, nails digging into the wood of the desk no doubt leaving marks. “Right there, fuck. I’ve never— never been so close so fast—“
Pushing myself up to my elbows, I let my head roll back as Harry rolls my clit between his teeth before pulling back, delivering a harsh slap to my outer thigh.
“Do you want to come for me?” Pressing a kiss to the inside of my knee, he raises a brow in my direction and smirks when I nod. “If you want to come for me— if you’re going to scream my name— you’re going to watch me as you do it. You’re going to watch me devour you like my last meal, do you understand?”
I bite my bottom lip and nod, resisting the urge to roll my head back when he immediately finds my clit and brings two fingers to my entrance, pushing them in and finding my g-spot.
“Harry.” His name falls off my lips like a prayer as he keeps his eyes on mine. “Please, please let me come. I need it, I—
I feel it as my body gives into the pleasure Harry so willingly gives.
My back arches, my breast pushing up into the air and not even a sound is able to pour from my mouth. Reaching out to grasp something and knocking a cup of pens onto the floor behind me, I cry out.
“Let everyone know who makes you feel this good.” Standing up, Harry looks down at me as he fists his cock in his hand. “I need to be inside of you right fucking now.”
“Condom?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.
Harry reaches behind him and grabs his wallet, pulling one out and ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on his length. “Tell me what you want? Hard? Soft?”
“Give me what nobody else can, don’t fucking hold back.” I grit out, feeling him run his cock along my clit. “Prove to me that you can fuck as good as everyone thinks you can.”
Harry smiles down at me only a moment before thrusting his hips forward, burying himself as deep as possible, making me scream out for him. “How’s that for a start? You’re so fucking wet for me.”
“Harry!” I cry. “I need it just like that, so deep.”
Pulling his hips back, Harry leans over to kiss me as he thrusts again, the power behind it pushing the desk forward an inch. “Yeah? You like feeling like this? Feeling so fucking full that you can’t stand it. Fuck, you take my cock so fucking well, so fucking well.”
“You’re so big, shit.” I moan, my head lolling to the side as his hands spread across my waist and grip me before slamming into me. “God. It feels so— so fucking good.”
“You can take it.” Harry moans above me, his eyes going back and forth between my face to where he disappears inside of me, watching as I take every inch of him. “It feels like this was made for me. So tight, so warm.”
“Please, I need more—“
At my words alone, Harry pulls out and pulls me off the desk and turns me around. Pressing his hand between my shoulder blades, he bends me over the desk before pushing my skirt back up around my waist and grips the waistband to hold me in place.
“Is this what you wanted?” Peering at him over my shoulder, I open my mouth on a breathless moan when his hand cracks across the left side of my ass — quickly followed by the right. “Did you need me to fuck you from behind so I could spank you like this? Huh?”
I feel Harry as he slowly pushes his hips forward, filling me. Listening to his moans as they bounce off the walls, my own whimpers mix with the sound. Gripping my hips, he takes his time as he works so slow — each inch more agonizing than the last before his hips press against my ass.
“Are you going soft on me back there?” Looking at him over my shoulder, I smirk when fire flashes behind his eyes. “Is the guy from the bar all of a sudden gone?”
Harry rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek, shaking his head before raising his hand and delivering a harsh slap, one that’s sure to leave his handprint behind.
“I know you fucking like that, don’t you? You’re squeezing my cock like it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.” Fingers digging into my hips, I moan when he pulls me back onto his cock and buries himself even deeper. “Tell me — tell me I'm the best you’ve ever had.”
Gripping the edge of the desk, I try to ground myself as Harry brushes against my g-spot with every single thrust, the pull in the base of my spine getting so strong that I don’t know how much longer I'll be able to hold out.
“I’ve neve been fucked like this.” I cry. “Nobody has ever, ever made me feel so fucking good.”
My eyes roll back as Harry presses his fingers against my clit and works them in time with his trusts, making me push up onto the tips of my toes in search of the release that isn’t far off.
“Like that, oh my god.” Panting, I meet him thrust for thrust as he fucks me harder and harder. “I'm so close.”
“Come on pretty poison girl, soak my cock for me.” Gripping the back of my neck, Harry presses me into the desk and gives me everything he has until my body gives up, releasing around him. “Fuck. you feel so good when you come around me like that. So damn good.”
Slowing his rhythm, Harry sweeps my hair off of my back and leans over me, pressing kisses up the curve of my spine. “Harry.”
“Yes?” His voice is soft as he presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You are incredible.”
“One more.” The words fall from my lips even though I know that I'm so fucked, that I know I won’t last much longer. “I want one more.”
Stopping his movements, I feel Harry chuckle. “You think you can handle me again?”
“I want to see you.” I say, my eyes darting toward the door of the bathroom. “Let me watch you come undone over me.”
Harry grins as he pulls out, the loss of him more than I expected. “I never would have guessed the woman in the crowd would be able to fuck me so well.”
“You shouldn’t underestimate people, Harry.” I walk in front of him, listening to the way he moans when he sees my own release dripping down the inside of my thighs. “Do you like what you see?”
“Fuck.” Running his hand through his curls. He looks freshly fucked and I can’t wait to finish him. “Let me see you.”
Stepping into the bathroom and turning on the light, the sleek and modern design is perfect. Turning, Harry steps close and finds my lips with his, taking his time to kiss me as his hands once again wander my body.
When he takes my nipple into his mouth, I let my head tilt back. “Come on. Give me what I want.”
“So fucking needy.” Harry responds, turning me around and pinning me against the counter. “Bend over, you pretty slut.” Pressing my ass out and shaking it from side to side, I cry out when Harry strikes his palm across each cheek. “How many?”
The tone in his voice makes me moan. “Fuck.”
“I said—“ Cracking down his palm again, he steps up behind me, pushing just his tip inside of my throbbing center. “How many.”
“Until you think I’ve had enough.”
I arch my back when he thrusts forward, his hand connecting with my ass even harder. “What if I never get enough. huh?”
“Harry—“
“What if I'm starting to think one night isn’t enough for me?” He thrusts so deep and I’m so sensitive that it feels so good, I clench around him. “Fuck, when you grip my cock like that I never want to leave — I could fuck you all damn night.”
I moan as I meet his gaze in the mirror, looking at the tattoos on his arms as he slides his hands up my back, gripping my shoulders and pulling me back onto his cock. “Don’t say that.”
“What? Don’t say that I want you?” Bringing his palm against my skin, his gaze locks on mine. “This— fuck, this isn’t normal.”
“What?” I ask, biting my bottom lip and letting my head fall forward. “What isn’t—”
“Feeling like this after one night.” Thrusting into me so hard that I scream, I feel tears in my eyes over the way my body feels ready to give into him again. “I’ve never had sex like this, never fucked anyone this good.”
I let my head fall to the side as my cheek presses against the cool counter, the sound of our bodies meeting echoing through the small room. “That’s because you've never been with someone like me before.”
“Fuck—“ Harry is relentless as he searches for his release. “I need you to come for me again, please.”
Begging me, his eyes are hazy as he looks at me, gaze looking with mine until with one thrust, my body shatters around his. “Harry!”
“Oh, shit—“
I watch as his head rolls back and his body stills for just a moment before his hips slowly guide in and out of me, riding us through the orgasms we’ve given each other.
“There you go, pretty girl.” Running his hands up and down my back. I take a deep breath. “You’re so fucking good. So good, Chan.”
I take a deep breath as I try to center myself. “Harry, that was—“
Resting his forehead between my shoulder blades, his warm breath skates across my skin. “I didn’t know it would be like that when I saw you tonight, the woman dressed with ivy across her body— that the vines would wrap around me and pull me in.”
“I don’t know why you’re the surprised one.” I say, wetting my lips. “You’re the one that showed up here. How?”
Harry pulls out, a whimper falling from my lips at the loss of him. “I don’t know… I wanted to get a drink somewhere where I wouldn’t feel like Harry Styles — I wanted to go somewhere small and local.”
“And you ended up here?” I ask, looking up at him from under my lashes.
Grabbing a hand towel, Harry presses a kiss to my temple before running it under warm water and hoisting me onto the counter, laughing as I wince.
“I ended up here.” He smiles as he reaches his hand between my legs, kissing me when I gasp as he runs the warm cloth over my sensitive clit.
We both look at each other and it’s almost like Harry can’t help it when he leans down to kiss me, taking his time as his hands come up to cup my cheeks.
“Let’s get you dressed, okay?” He speaks the words against my lips but makes no move to let me off the counter to grab my top. “Maybe in a few minutes.”
I laugh. “Come on, we have to get out of here before someone comes in.”
“I hope they do.” kissing down the side of my neck, Harry rests his forehead against my collarbone. “I need everyone to know I was with you — that you’ve been fucked you harder than you ever have in your life.”
Resting my hand in the middle of his chest, I push him backwards and hop off the counter on shaky legs, Harry laughing as he rests his hands on my hips to guide me back into the office.
“Here, let me help you.” It’s a sweet gesture to see a man like him help me back into my top, watching as he uses all of his concentration to make sure every hook gets fastened properly while he doesn’t disturb the leaves.
“Thank you… For tonight.” I say, looking over his features. “I really had a good time.”
Harry smiles and brushes a lock of hair from off my face. “I did too.”
I give him one last smile, reaching for the door handle.
Before I turn it, Harry reaches for my hand, turning me and pressing me into the door one last time, finding my lips with his own.
Unlike most of the kisses tonight, this one is so slow, so gentle.
“I know I'm asking a lot, but I need to be able to see you again — I don't know what my brain is doing to me, but I just know that I need it.” The look in his eyes is so full of hope, so soft. “I’ll understand if you say no.”
“Here.” I hold my hand out, hoping he gets the hint.
When he does, he takes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over. I easily put my name and number in before giving it back to him, watching his lips curl up with a grin.
“Channing?” Looking from his phone to me, I smile as my hand grips the doorknob and finally push it open.
I wink at him as I step out into the hall. “It’s me.”
He steps forward and grips my hip one last time. bringing his lips down to mine.
“It’s you.”
💖
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typicalopposite · 7 months ago
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Ok but 🤭 what if… (now stay with me, I know this is gonna be a reach ok? And maybe this is debunked somewhere in canon and I just missed the scene) what if Christopher doesn’t know Bucks name is Evan. He’s just a kid right? It’s not like he’s around for formal things where it would EVER come up. And I know he’s a teen now but let’s just say for shits and giggles it has just NEVER come up.
Buck tells him about Tommy, and Chris is stoked because these are the two coolest people he knows next to his dad and they are dating?! This is awesome!!
Until the next time he sees Tommy which just so happens to be because Tommy tagged along while Buck is watching Christopher for Eddie and he overhears Tommy on the phone with… idk Chimney while Bucks in the bathroom or wherever… stay with me.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to take Evan there on our date next week…”
And like.. what the heck, Tommy?! Chris can’t even believe what he’s hearing… how dare this man cheat on his Buck?! Is he insane?! Buck is amazing and he just looks so happy with Tommy. He is gonna be crushed!
And then he has the audacity to quickly end the call with a whisper of you heard nothing to Christopher when Buck comes back.
Christopher is fuming but he has to bite his tongue until his dad gets back and they leave— and then it quickly turns into a very heated Christopher pacing back and forth in the living room in front of Eddie (who is seated on the couch and doesn’t know whether he’s about to laugh at the misunderstanding or cry at how much Chris loves Buck)
Eddie does his best to explain things earning him an exasperated “What do you mean his real name isn’t Buck?!”
And at least now they aren’t having to plan a hit on Tommy… plus this is going to make for a hilarious dinner story their next shift…
(This got away from me and maybe it will become an actual one shot later, but I just think it would be a hilariously adorable misunderstanding)
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i-am-baechu · 6 months ago
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ᡣ𐭩 Title: Mutual Understanding  
ᡣ𐭩 Paring: Rich! Playboy! Taehyung x Fortune teller daughter! Reader 
ᡣ𐭩 Summary: She wants nothing to do with love and he hates relationships. Perfect. 
ᡣ𐭩 Rating: Explicit (18+) 
ᡣ𐭩 Genre: Romance, angst, smut, slow burn, fake relationship au, and cat and mouse vibes
ᡣ𐭩 Part of the The Legendary Seven
ᡣ𐭩 Playlist - Cat & Mouse by Black Swan and Selfish by YooA
ᡣ𐭩 Authors note: I’m proud of this story and honestly my best writing so far me thinks 🥺
May 22 - I edited and added a scene that I felt like it was needed!
“One of the legendary sevens is off the market. Jeon Jungkook, the heartthrob, is going out with one of the students who was accepted through the Kim Scholarship. I heard she’s a fangirl for a gamer streamer so it will be interesting to see how their relationship goes. It’s of course noted that Jungkook’s father tried buying her house. I guess that's another way to keep your house. Until then, Pen.” 
“Your mom was right.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and rolled over in Seungkwan’s bed, “Don’t say that.”
“Y/N, she literally got every detail right. I have to give her credit.” Seungkwan tried to show his phone but she kept avoiding it, “Come on, Y/N. Can’t you just listen to your mom?” 
“Seungkwan, can you just show me that new game and forget about this?” 
“Remember what your mom said? You will find love in the next two months.”
Y/N let out a scoff and sat up in his bed, “That’s like me saying Kim Taehyung will be faithful. It will never happen.” 
Seungkwan pouted at his best friend and shook his head, “Let me dream for you.”
“Keep dreaming.” 
L/N Y/N, is one of the top students in her major (Radiologic Technology) and her best friend Boo Seungkwan is the top student of his major (Marketing) and was on the gossip site for their school. Seoul University is filled with rich people that lacked basic human kindness which is why everyone loved this website. The person behind it has never said their name but whoever it is, knows more than everyone. 
After Seungkwan’s badminton competition, Y/N went over to his house like she always did. Being friends since high school, they basically knew everything about each other. Like how Y/N’s dad left after a night out with his coworkers, she was only six. The one thing that Seungkwan was always curious about was her mother’s “power”. Her mother was a famous fortune teller who gets paid well by CEO’s and she's been doing this for years. Y/N didn’t believe anything her mother said but Seungkwan on the other hand believed every word. 
Y/N stood up from his bed and headed to the bathroom to brush her hair. Seungkwan followed her as he scrolled down his phone, “This says that Namjoon has a secret admirer.” 
She raised her eyebrow through the mirror and let out a small chuckle. “Are you surprised? Everyone has a crush on that group.” 
“Not you.”
“I have a brain, that's why.”
Seungkwan’s phone chimed and he smiled at the screen, “Vernon’s here.” 
“Is Seokmin here too?” 
“No? Why do you want him here?” 
She put her brush down and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Yes, it sucks feeling like a third wheel.” 
Seungkwan’s face turned red and pointed at her, “YO-YOU SHUT UP!”
Y/N let out a laugh and shrugged her shoulders, “It’s true. Let’s go downstairs to your boyfriend.”
“YAH! YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE A BOYFRIEND!”
“NO, I’M NOT!”
“YOUR MOM SAID-”
“DON’T BRING HER-”
“BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!” 
Seungkwan and Y/N glanced at the door with a nervous look. Seungkwan’s sister isn’t someone to mess with, “So-Sorry.” 
Vernon came in and they were hanging out in Seungkwan’s room. They weren’t really talking but their company made it better. It wasn’t until Seungkwan shot up from his spot making Y/N jump, “What the hell?”
“Taehyung dumped Jennie.”
Y/N scoffed at this and rolled her eyes, “They weren’t together. Just fucking.”
“So, it doesn’t matter. They're done now because Jennie just posted a picture with her ex.”
Vernon sighed and glanced at Seungkwan’s phone, “We shouldn’t care about other people's lives.” 
“Especially Taehyung’s, he’s just a piece of shit that breaks poor girls' hearts.” 
Kim Taehyung let out a puff of smoke as he glanced at Jungkook who was texting on his phone. He glared at this and gently nudged him to get his attention, “Dude, you said you wanted to hang out but you're talking to your girl.”
Jungkook glanced up at Taehyung and rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry.” He put his phone back in his pocket and gave his friend a concerned look, “I wanted to hang out because I saw Jennie’s post.” 
Taehyung hit his cigarette ash in his diamond ashtray and shrugged his shoulders, “What about it?”
“I know you guys were seeing each other-”
“Her pussy was good.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes and shook his head, “You literally saw her for four months straight and wouldn’t call your other girls. That means you liked her.” 
“Why would I like her? I’m Kim Taehyung, I don’t fall in love with basic girls.”
“Sometimes I wish a girl would slap you for your attitude.” 
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders and leaned back against his leather couch, “Would love to see it happen.” 
Jungkook’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he took his phone out, “I have to go.”
“Go to your girlfriend you simp.” 
“At least someone likes me for me and not just for my money.”
Taehyung scoffed at this and continued to smoke with annoyance, “How can you stick to one pussy?”
Jungkook let out a laugh and stood up from the couch, “When you find the right person, nothing else matters.” 
“Whatever dude.” 
Jungkook went to leave and bowed to Taehyung's mother who was coming into the living room, “Ah, Kook, you're going home already?”
Jungkook bowed and gave her a sheepish smile, “My girlfriend needs me.” 
Taehyung’s mother sighed and placed a hand on her cheek as she glanced at her son with a frown, “I wish my son had a girlfriend. I need to tell him the good news.” 
“The good news?”
Taehyung’s mother nodded her head happily, “I went to see a fortune teller today, she told me that Taehyung will fall in love in two months.” 
Jungkook glanced at Taehyung and then back at his mother, “Taehyung? Your son will fall in love with someone?”
“Isn’t that exciting!? My son falling in love, what more can I want?”
“Taehyung...falling in love. I have to go, it was nice seeing you, Mrs. Kim.” 
“Bye Kook, be safe.” 
Taehyung’s mom smiled at her son and walked towards him with her heels clicking away. Taehyung quickly put his cigarette out and sat up straighter, “Mom?” 
“My Tae, I have good news.”
Taehyung raised his eyebrow at his mother, “This can’t be good, what’s the news.”
“A fortune teller told me that you would fall in love with someone in two months. Isn’t that good news?” 
“You believe in that? Mom really?”
His mom nodded her head and glanced through the living room windows, “With a son like you, I have to believe in that.” 
“What is that supposed to mean!?” 
“You know what it means.” 
“Mom, just let me live my life the way I want.”
His mom sighed and stood up with a little smirk on her lips, “Well hurry up because in six weeks grandma is coming over and I told her you had a girlfriend.” 
“You did what? Mom, you know I don’t have a girlfriend.”
She shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head, “Figure it out. Also, no more smoking, or I will have your father do something about it.” 
He swallowed his spit nervously, “Please don’t.”
“Good, let’s go have dinner.” 
He watched her leave and fell back into the couch and stared at the ceiling, “What the fuck am I going to do?” 
Kim Taehyung, is the second richest student at Seoul University. Everyone knows who he is. He had loving parents and siblings who were perfect. Being part of the legendary seven, it was a blessing and a curse. Everyone knows your business, even those who you don’t want to know. Taehyung hates relationships because what’s the point of being in one when you're in college? You're supposed to have fun and go to school. Why put love on top of the stress of school? Love is just complicated and a headache for him. It will always be like that. Always. 
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。
Seungkwan and Y/N walked down the hallway talking to one another about random things. It wasn’t until she heard someone running towards her. She turned around to see her other friend running towards her with a wide smile, Hwang Eunbi, “Y/N! I have something to tell you!” 
She smiled at the girl and grabbed her hand with ease, “What is it?” 
“I got a note from Kevin and he told me that Yunho has a crush on you!”
Y/N rolled her eyes and dropped her hand, “Not this again. Stop trying to set me up with people.”
Eunbi frowned and glanced at Seungkwan, “Did you tell her?”
“Tell me what?”
Seungkwan let out a nervous laugh and turned towards Y/N, “You see...My aunt is having a party next week and I kinda told her...I told her that you had a boyfriend because she kept asking about you and I lied because she wouldn’t leave me alone. I’m sorry and I know you hate relationships but I panicked and she was talking bad about you-”
“Seungkwan, relax.”
Seungkwan raised his eyebrow and glanced at Eunbi, “You're not mad?” 
“I know your aunt so I know how you act around her.” 
“I’m sorry...I just hate how she talks about you. It’s not fair.”
Y/N shrugged her shoulders and put her hands in her pockets, “Like I give a shit what she says. She’s already on her fourth husband so maybe she should take her own love advice.” 
Eunbi laughed at this and wrapped her arm around her neck, “But you should ask Yunho to be your fake boyfriend to show his aunt up.” 
“Why would I care? Also, I wouldn’t do that to Yunho because if he has feelings for me then asking him to be my fake boyfriend would be morally wrong.”
Seungkwan smirked at her, “To wipe off that look she always has. You can ask someone else then.”
“That’s tempting but I don’t really care what she thinks about me. Let’s go to lunch before we have to run to class.”
Seungkwan and Eunbi watched her leave with frowns on their faces. Eunbi turned towards Seungkwan, “What are we going to do?” 
“I don’t want my aunt to harass her at the party.”  
Eunbi's eyes became brighter with an idea that was going to change everything and grabbed Seungkwan’s arm, “I have an idea.” 
“Is Y/N going to kill us?” 
“Maybe but your aunt will be defeated.”
“Let’s do it.” 
Y/N walked into the lunch court with her hands in her pocket. There was a group of girls that had a crush on her because of how cool she was. Y/N’s personality was very laid back and unlike her best friends, she didn’t care about anyone’s opinions. When she got made fun of her mom, she told people to fuck off. She didn’t see a point in fighting with people who only listen to rumors. 
She got her usual sandwich and looked at the usual table they always sat at. She dropped her backpack and Seungkwan jumped at the sound, “Why do you always do that?”
“Because it scares you.” 
“Y/NNNN!” 
“Seokmin, you can use your normal voice.”
She felt an arm around her shoulders and that laugh she came to know, “Where’s the fun in that?”  Seokmin removed his arm and sat next to Y/N, “What’s new?”
Eunbi leaned forward with a little smirk, “Do you want the tea about everything you missed?”
“You know me so well.” 
Seungkwan pulled out his phone as Y/N ate her sandwich ignoring the whole gossip talk. Seungkwan handed his phone to him with excitement, “Apparently, Taehyung is looking for a girlfriend.” 
“Kim Taehyung?” 
Eunbi took a sip of her banana milk and nodded her head, “I know right!? Out of everyone, he is the last person I would think would want a relationship.” 
“Especially since he was in love with Jennie.” 
Seokmin nodded his head and glanced at Y/N, “What do you think, Y/N.”
She placed her sandwich down and shrugged her shoulders, “Why should I care?” 
Seungkwan frowned and took the phone from Seokmin, “You're no fun.” 
“It’s not my life and I don’t really care for him so what’s the point?” 
Eunbi laughed at this and slammed her drink dramatically, “Talking shit about someone is the fundamental of being a college student. It is our duty to fulfill it.” 
“I thought our duty was getting good grades.”
“That’s second.” 
Y/N raised her eyebrow and nodded her head, “Sure, Seokmin are you free next week?” 
“I have a track meeting and then I have a meeting with a CEO my dad set up.” 
Y/N frowned at this and nodded her head, “Boring. I’m going to be at this party all by myself.”
Seungkwan pouted at this and looked at Y/N, “I’m going to be there too.” 
“Trying to show off to your aunt which means I’m going to be left alone.”
“I don’t show off...”
“You do.”
“You didn’t have to answer all at the same time.” 
Taehyung sat down with annoyance and Jimin raised his eyebrow at this, “What’s wrong?” 
“My mom.”
Hoseok raised his eyebrow at this and chuckled, “Your mom is an angel.” 
“She can be but she can be a devil.” 
Namjoon rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food, “What did she do?” 
“A fortune-teller told her that I would fall in love in two months, so she told my grandma I have a girlfriend.” 
Seokjin let out a laugh and covered his mouth, “That’s unfortunate for you.”
“Shut up, at least I have a choice in my wife.”
“Someone is on their period.” 
Taehyung sighed and started playing with his rice, “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to see my grandma sad when she sees me with no girlfriend.”
“You can always have a fake girlfriend.”
Taehyung glanced at Yoongi and thought about it, “I didn’t think of that...”
Jungkook let out a laugh and leaned to his side kissing Bora on her cheek, “Watching you struggle is funny.” 
Bora hit his thigh and shook her head at her boyfriend. She glanced at Taehyung with a small smile, “There’s dating apps. You can always use that and put in a bio you need a fake girlfriend.” 
“I guess I can do that.” 
Jimin nodded his head and clapped his hands, “See it’s that easy. Bora, did you see you were an article by Pen.” 
Bora frowned at this and nodded her head, “I saw this and I made the decision to ignore it. It’s upsetting to know that people know the insides of my relationship and to make me look like a charity case but I know the truth.” 
Jungkook nodded his head and placed his hand on her thigh, “It’s just meaningless gossip.” 
“But gossip is so fun.”
Y/N walked down the hall with Eunbi getting ready for their next class. As they walked down the hall, Taehyung and Jimin were going the opposite way. Taehyung walked past Y/N and he glanced down at her. He raised his eyebrow when she didn’t even give him a second glance. He stood still while Jimin stood there in confusion, “What?” 
He stared at Y/N not knowing anything about her, “Nothing...nothing.” 
.*・。゚☆゚.*・
Eunbi and Seungkwan sat in Y/N’s bedroom as they set up a dating profile for their friend. Y/N went to go pick up food and they thought this was the perfect time to make it. Eunbi snatched the phone out of Seungkwan’s hand and shook her head, “God, that’s not a good picture of her. Use the one when we went to your friend's party. She had that purple dress.” 
“This isn’t real Eunbi. We’re just doing this so she can have a fake boyfriend.”
“You can at least treat it like it’s real. There’s better pictures of her and you should use them. She needs someone hot.” 
Seungkwan raised his eyebrow at this and shook his head, “Is this for her or for you?” 
“Both.”
Y/N entered her house, throwing the keys in the bowl. Y/N didn’t live with her mother and she thanked god for that. She couldn’t hear her mother going on and on about her future. It was annoying. She took her shoes off and went towards her cat, Socks. She walked towards her bedroom and opened the door, “I got the sandwiches.” She jumped when she heard a loud bang and raised her eyebrow when she saw Eunbi’s phone on the floor, “What the hell?” 
“We were looking at Pen’s new post and you scared us.” 
She nodded her head and shrugged her shoulders, “That’s what you get for being involved in  other people’s lives.” 
Seungkwan glanced at Eunbi and let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah...” 
Eunbi grabbed her phone and smiled when saw the profile get uploaded, “Everything always turns out good.” 
Taehyung was in his bedroom on his phone. He was scrolling through Instagram and he stopped on Seungkwan’s post. He’s met him once or twice but he was pretty cool. He zoomed in on the picture and saw the girl he saw in the hallway. He thought her name was Y/N but he wasn’t sure. There were no tags on the picture. He clicked on Seungkwan’s icon and saw multiple posts with her and he finally found one that had tags with her username. He clicked on her profile and was looking through her pictures. 
“What are you looking at?”
He jumped and looked to see Jimin with his arms crossed, “Nothing.”
“Really? I saw that smile you have when you see someone hot. Show me.”
“Get lost shorty.” 
The next day, Y/N was by herself in the library studying for an upcoming test. It wasn’t until she heard one of the chair moves. She looked up from her book and raised her eyebrow when saw Jimin sitting there with a smile on his face. She took off her headphones and tilted her head, “Can I help you?” 
“Are you Y/N?” 
“Why?” 
Jimin shrugged his shoulders and leaned forward making her pull back, “He usually doesn’t like...I’m Jimin.”
She nodded her head and put her headphones back in, “That’s cool. Are you studying or just bothering me?” 
He let out a small chuckle and nodded his head, “Can you do something for me?” 
“Oh god...what?” 
“It’s for a friend.” 
Taehyung entered the library with a confused look. Jimin doesn’t go to the library, why does he want to meet in the library? It was weird. He continued his way through the silence but froze when he saw who Jimin was talking to, “That little fucker...” Taehyung made his way towards Jimin with haste. He knew Jimin wouldn’t leave this alone after last night, he never listened to him. 
“You like Y/N? Seungkwan’s friend? 
Taehyung rolled his eyes and stood up from his bed with annoyance. He tried snatching his phone back but somehow Jimin was faster than him, “I don’t like her. I just saw her in the hallway and thought she was cute.” 
“Interesting.” 
“You want me to be Taehyung’s fake girlfriend?” 
Taehyung stopped in his tracks and his mouth dropped, “Jimin, what the hell are you doing?” 
Jimin looked over his shoulders and gave his friend a smirk, “Helping out your situation.”
Taehyung glanced at Y/N who was looking at them with an annoyed look, “I’m not saying yes but I want to hear the reasoning.” 
She was looking straight at Taehyung and he felt nervous under her stare, “I saw you on Instagram...I just thought you were cute and Jimin took that into his own hands.” 
She nodded her head and picked up her stuff, “I kinda figured. The answer is no and leave me alone.” 
Taehyung watched her leave and his mouth was wide, “Did she just reject me?” 
“Technically she rejected me.” 
“Jimin, shut up. She just rejected me, what the hell?” 
Jimin let out a laugh and leaned back in his chair, “Not everyone has to like you.” 
Y/N walked down the stairs but was stopped when she felt a tap on her shoulders. She turned around to see a panting Taehyung and she raised her eyebrow at this, “Dude, what?” 
“Please be my fake girlfriend.” 
“Huh? I just said-”
“I know you said no but I-I just need someone. Please.”
She leaned against the railing and a small smirk appeared, “What do I get?” 
“What do you want?” 
“You don’t have an offer?” 
Taehyung let out an irritated sigh and looked down at his shoes for a second. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. He looked back up and shrugged his shoulders, “Just tell me what you want?” 
“I need you to be my fake boyfriend for this party and I would also like tickets to Japan for a vacation. I deserve it after being with you.” 
“You want a vacation? Do you think being my fake girlfriend would be that-”
“Yes, because it's you.”
Taehyung tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest, “What do you mean by that?” 
“You sleep with everyone and break girls' hearts. Do I need to draw a picture for you?” 
“You're very blunt.”
“It’s obvious you only have yes men. If you don’t want to give me that ticket to Japan and a nice hotel, bye I have to go study and stop following myself.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes and nodded his head, “Fine, I’ll give you a trip. How many tickets?” 
“Three.” 
“Fine but starting now you're my girlfriend.” 
She cringed at the word and scoffed at this, “Don’t ever call me your girlfriend. Fake or not, I don’t want to associate that with me.” 
“Being someone’s girlfriend? Relationships are fun.”
“How do you know that? Anyways, bye.” 
She started walking away and Taehyung grabbed her wrist, “Do we have a deal?” 
“We have a deal. Now let me go.” 
He let her go and put his hands in his pockets nervously, “Sorry. Can we meet up Friday at Supernova’s?” 
“Sure.”
He watched her leave and knew he wanted to prove something to her. He was going to prove that he could be a great boyfriend and prove her wrong about relationships. He wanted to change her view of him and he wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much that she saw him like that. It made him feel uneasy. He barely knew her. Why should he care? 
Y/N took a sip of her water and stared at Taehyung who was nervously playing with his fries. It’s been quiet for five minutes and she wasn’t going to be the first person to say anything but this was getting ridiculous. She took out her phone and went to send a text to Seungkwan but stopped when Taehyung let out a small cough, “So...girlfriend.”
“My name is Y/N, use it.” 
He nodded his head, “Sorry, Y/N. We have to act like a couple in front of people so stop looking at me like I’m the devil.” 
“It’s really hard to ignore the horns.” 
He let out a chuckle and shook his head, “Can we be friends at least? It would make it easier.” 
Last week, Y/N found herself in Seungkwan’s bedroom listening to him talking about the person in front of her. She heard everything from her best friend’s mouth. Rumors are rumors and she knew this. This was her philosophy and it would be hypocritical of her to listen to the rumors. She had no idea how to deal with the playboy but she was willing to take a chance, “Friends...Sure.” 
She watched a boxy smile appear on his face and she noted how bright his eyes looked. There was a touch of mystery behind those brown irises. It was interesting to see how bright they can be. She took a sip of her water and took her phone out, “I have to go, Eunbi needs my help.” 
He watched her lick her lips and his eyes couldn’t leave them. The feeling that was erupting was something he never felt. It was annoying. He shook his head and nodded his head, “Since we're friends, can I have your number?” 
“I suppose since we're friends. Don’t give it out to anyone.” 
Don’t worry about that. I wouldn’t want anyone else having it, “I won’t. Trust me.” 
She showed her phone to him and he glanced at the numbers. His eyes slowly went towards her face and he noted how the sun highlighted her face. It showcased her eye color perfectly while showing off her lips. He let out a small cough and sent her a quick message. She smiled at this and put her phone away, “Since we're friends, you should come to Seungkwan’s game tomorrow.” 
“To-Tomorrow?” 
She nodded her head and slid out of the booth, “Since we have to fake being together, it would make sense for you to be with me there. He is my best friend. Remember?” 
“Yes, best friend. Do you want me to pick you up?” 
She stood by the table and nodded her head, “Nothing too fancy. We don’t want girls flocking to you. I’ll see you tomorrow, Taehyung.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” 
He watched her leave the cafe and he continued to do so through the glass. He watched the plaid shirt around her waist sway with each step she took. He never noticed how good her legs looked in jeans. There was also something about the way she walked, it was filled with confidence. He cracked his neck and look down at his fries, What the fuck? 
“Eunbi, what’s wrong?” 
Y/N opened her bedroom to see Eunbi sitting there with a smile, “I have good news.” 
“I also have news but you go first.” 
Eunbi sat up with her phone in her hands. She turned the phone to show her a picture of Taehyung causing Y/N to raise her eyebrow, “What?” 
“He swiped for you. He’s interested in you.” 
Y/N let out a laugh and took the phone out of her hand, “You signed me up for a dating app?” 
“It worked! What's your good news?” 
“Taehyung is my fake boyfriend.” 
Eunbi stared at her with pure shock and her mouth dropped, “Kim Taehyung? The famous-”
“Yes, he needed a fake girlfriend so it worked out.” 
“Your mom was-”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” 
Y/N waited outside her building and she was scrolling on her phone. Taehyung said he would be coming in ten minutes and knowing he was rich (his car would be fast). She hated making people wait. She heard the gates open and she looked up to be pleasantly surprised to see a dark blue Nissan pulling up to her. The window came down to show off Taehyung wearing sunglasses and his boxy smile, “What?” 
“I wasn’t expecting a Nissan...I was expecting that BMW that everyone talks about.” 
He shrugged his shoulders, “Well not everyone knows I have a Nissan.”
“Does that make me special?” 
“You are special.”
They made eye contact and Y/N felt her chest feel lighter at the comment. Compliments come and go but this one stayed with her. It stayed with her longer than it should. She let out a small laugh and nodded her head, “All ready to see Seungkwan play?”
“Yes, I am. Let me get to the door.”
She rolled her eyes as she watched Taehyung quickly unbuckle himself and rush to open her side. She let out a small laugh and bowed to him, “Thank you for being a gentleman.”
“Anything for my lady.” 
The drive was pleasant. There wasn’t a lot of talking but it didn’t bother her too much. The jazz music played in the background as she watched nature out her window. Every now and then, Taehyung would glance at her through his mirror and would smile to himself. A smile that he didn’t even realize was on his face.
“Seungkwan!” 
Seungkwan turned around with a smile but it quickly changed into a confused one when he saw Taehyung standing next to her, “H-Hey, thanks for coming?” 
Y/N glanced at Taehyung and chuckled at Seungkwan’s nervousness, “This is my plus one that I told you about.”
Seungkwan stared at him with shock and stuck his out to shake, “I’m Seungkwan-”
“I know who you are. No need to introduce yourself as a star badminton player.”
Y/N watched Seungkwan’s face blush and she smiled with pride, “Seungkwan is a star on the court. He needs to be reminded by others and not just his friends.” 
“Y/N...”
She heard his coach and she smiled at him, “Good luck.” 
Taehyung smiled at him and patted his back gently, “Good luck.”
“Thanks, I'll see you later.” 
Y/N watched him run off and she turned toward Taehyung with a smile, “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Boosting up his confidence. He doesn’t believe me when I say it.” 
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders at this, “He’s your best friend. I’ll show him my support.”
“Well, it meant a lot to me. Thank you.” 
They walked towards the stands and Taehyung glanced down to see their fingers touching. He wanted to intertwine their fingers together but he had to stop himself. He notices all the moles along her arm and the little cuts that tell a story. A story that he wanted to know. There was something about Y/N that he wanted to know so desperately. It was like a man that needed water. He glanced up to her face and the moles decorated her face like a castle with flowers. It was a sight to be seen. She was something he has never seen before and he wanted to capture all the different expressions she has. This was a feeling he has never had before and it was making him feel sick. 
Y/N sat down with Taehyung following. She glanced at him and pulled out a bag of Skittles, “Want some?”
He glanced down at the candy and then back at her with a mischievous look, “You can get in trouble with that?” 
She tilted her head at him with a smirk, “Are you going to tell on me?” 
“Maybe I should so you can be taught a lesson.” 
She rolled her eyes and popped a red skittle in her mouth, “No fun.”
“Don’t worry I also brought some snacks. Do you like sea salt chips?” 
“I should tell you. You do know the best chips are the ones in the green bag?”
Taehyung let out a laugh and shook his head, “Of course you like spicy chips. It matches your personality.”   
“Are you saying I'm spicy? 
“It comes in waves, a person with boldness with different levels that captures the whole room. With that fiery attitude and that fire in their eyes. A spicy personality to make it known who you are. It’s admirable.” 
She let out a laugh and shook her head, “You're so weird...a good weird though.” 
“Does that mean your opinion of me has changed?” 
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” 
.*・。゚☆゚.*・
It’s been a week and every day, Y/N and Taehyung would spend time together to get to know each other. Every night, Taehyung would drive her to the river and they would just talk as the stars listened. Every morning, Y/N would make him breakfast and they would sit in the park near school listening to jazz. There were quiet moments but it didn’t feel uncomfortable if Taehyung accepted it. He didn’t get a lot of those in his normal life. Y/N relished in their quiet moments because it taught her more about Taehyung than his words could ever do. 
Today was Seungkwan's Aunt's party and it was their first event to act like a couple. She was nervous that everyone was going to know she was lying. A piece of her wanted to run away and she never wants to run away. She always faced challenges head first but this was different. Seungkwan’s aunt loved to bring up the fact that her father left her. It was known throughout the families that Y/N was basically parentless and they would throw it at her whenever they could. Her mother made her rich but she also barely took care of the girl, she had to be her own parent. When people use the past to insult you in the future, it hurts more when it isn’t your fault. 
She stared at herself with doubt. She was dressed in a light blue ballerina dress that had floral beadwork all around. When she turned the skirt would shine under the light and it made her feel seen. She put her hair up in a high bun with pearl earrings when she heard a knock at the door. She glanced at it and felt comfort knowing who it was. She carefully made her way with her heels clicking away on her floor and she opened it with a smile, “You're early.” 
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders and passed her flowers, “I was too excited to get you these.” 
She glanced down at the red tulips and smiled to herself, “Red tulips? Is there a reason?” 
Taehyung shrugged and leaned against the doorframe, “It’s a secret.” 
“We’re keeping secrets now? Come in.” He walked in and his eyes drifted to the delicate fabric on her body. The dress showed off her collarbones and the way she looked so elegant. It was something he wasn’t used to from her. She set the tulips down on her coffee table and glanced at Taehyung, “What?” 
“Come here, please.” She gave him a raised eyebrow but did what he asked. He gently grabbed the hand and smiled at her, “Twirl for me.” 
She did a twirl and when came back to face him, she asked, “Do you like it?” 
“Like it, I love it.”
“You flatter me.”
“You deserve it.”
She smiled at this and glanced down at their fingers and let out a small cough. She gently removed her fingers and went to her kitchen ignoring her heart, “Do you want some water?” 
“That would be great.” 
The building was always grand. Seungkwan’s aunt always did this for him (even though he hated it). She claimed she wanted to show off her nephew's talents but in reality, it was to network. It was almost always to network for her company and she was just using Seungkwan as a cover-up. Seungkwan’s parents never noticed because they were too kind. Far too kind to be related to that witch. 
They entered the building and everyone was dressed in their nice clothing. Businessmen with their ties a little too tight and wives that had blood-red lipstick smirking at you to feel small. It was like this every year. There was something about the room that made the confidence that Y/N usually had been completely wiped away.  
“Are you okay, Y/N?”
She turned towards Taehyung and gave him a fake smile, “I’m okay...well I’m going to be. You’re good company. 
Taehyung could sense that Y/N wasn’t feeling like herself. He intertwined their fingers together and rubbed her knuckles gently, “I’ll be here for you okay.”
“O-Okay.”
She quickly finds Seungkwan and Eunbi with Taehyung by her side. She gave them hugs and relief was written on her face, “You look beautiful, Y/N.”
“Thank you Seungkwan. You look good too.” 
“Well if it isn’t L/N.” 
Y/N felt that shiver and she slowly turned around to see Seungkwan’s aunt looking her up and down. Disapproval written all over her face, “Good-”
“I see you brought someone for once.” 
Y/N glanced at Taehyung and nodded her head, “I’m sorry for the late-”
“I’m shocked you can get someone as good-looking as him. Especially when you're fatherless. It's shocking.” 
Taehyung glared at the older woman and walked to be in front of Y/N with annoyance on his face, “Please don’t talk about my girlfriend like that when I am present. If you're going to insult one of us then insult me for I picked the wrong socks for the occasion.” 
Y/N stared at him with wide eyes not knowing what to say but she felt her heartbeat louder. Seungkwan’s aunt tilted her head at him and studied his face, “Kim Taehyung, from the Kim family. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“I wish I could say the same. You insulted my girlfriend and now you’re trying to kiss my feet. Do you have no shame?” 
Seungkwan’s aunt glanced down at her shoes and cleared her throat, “Is your father here? I would love to talk to him.”
“He is not but I am. The answer will be no. No matter what question you ask, it will be no. Y/N, let’s have a dance.” 
Taehyung grabbed her wrist and they quickly made their way to the middle of the dancefloor. He wrapped his arm around her waist and they started to dance with the delicate strings filling the air. Y/N was in a state of shock at what just happened and Taehyung could sense that, “No one deserves that treatment.” 
She looked at his face and shook her head, “It was said that it was my fault my father left...maybe I do deserve it.” 
“It was his fault. He is not a man but a child. You deserve the world and I won’t let an old hag destroy that.”
He brought her in closer and she couldn’t help but smile, “You're passionate.” 
“When it comes to you, yes.” 
She let out a small laugh and looked away from his brown eyes, “Don’t look at me like that.” 
“Like what?” 
She glanced back and they continued to stare, “I’m not sure but stop it.”
“I can’t help it. I’m just looking at you.” 
After two more dances, Taehyung took her out to the garden and they stood next to each other with flowers around. The moon shone in the water fountain as they sat on the white stone. Y/N’s fingertips gently touched the water and smiled, “You know this is the first time I had fun at Seungkwan's aunt’s party.” 
“Did I do it justice?” 
“You did. I actually danced usually I just stayed in the back avoiding her but tonight I actually danced. It felt nice.” 
He smiled and picked up a rose. He placed it in her lap and glanced at the stars, “I’m glad. Would you like to dance with me now?”
She glanced down at the rose and then back at him, “There’s no music. How will we dance?” 
“We don’t need music to dance. We have each other to do so.” 
She placed the rose on the stone and slowly stood up with Taehyung. He smiled at her and they slowly started dancing under the stars. His hand was on her waist as she avoided his eyes. There was something there but she couldn’t figure it out. The feeling in her chest was becoming too strong and she wanted to run away but it was as if Taehyung knew this, so he held on to her tighter. Their eyes met and he couldn’t help smiling and she returned it. It felt good to smile and it also made her sick. 
“Mom, why are you here?” 
Y/N was in her living room reading up for her test when there was a knock at the door. She was expecting Seungkwan or Eunbi but there she was with her mom. It’s been two weeks since the party so she expected them to come forward with some tea. Y/N sat on the couch with an annoyed look as her mother sat there with a smudged look, “Everything's coming together.” 
“What is?” 
“You're falling in love, can’t you see it.”
Y/N frowned at this and stood up, “I think it's time for you to go.” 
“Falling in love can be beautiful. Just let it happen.” 
“Are you trying to be my mother? Now? Where was this when I was younger?” 
Y/N’s mother frowned at this and stood up, “I’m trying to give you advice. Falling in love can change the world.” 
“Then why did dad leave? You give love advice to everyone but you can’t even follow it.” 
“I told your father to leave because he wanted nothing to do with me.”
Y/N frowned at this and stared at her mother in shock, “What about me? I’m his daughter. Did he not want me?” 
“I kept you-”
“You kept him away from me. Didn’t you?” The silence in the room made it clear to Y/N and she nodded her head at this, “I think it’s time for you to go.” 
“Just fall in love, Y/N.”
Y/N opened the door and she was met with those brown eyes, “Taehyung? What are you doing here?” 
“I came to visit you. I had to tell you something...” 
“Are you Kim Taehyung? I told your mother that you were going to fall in love this month. How is it going?” 
Y/N’s mother pushed past her and looked at Taehyung with a smile, “Your mother was excited to know her son was going to fall in love.” 
Taehyung glanced at her and then back at Y/N, “Y/N, who is this?” 
“This is my mother....”
Taehyung looked at her mother and then back at her, “Your mother is a fortune teller...the fortune teller that told my mother I would fall in love, and then I met you a month later...” 
Y/N scoffed at this and looked at Taehyung, “Are you saying I set this up?” 
Taehyung's eyes widened at this and shook his head, “That’s not what I’m saying. In fact the opposite.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Y/N, I’m in love with you.” 
Y/N stared at Taehyung with a shocked face and shook her head, “You can’t love a person like me...I have nothing. My mother and father both left me. What do I have to offer?” 
“You offer me so much that I can’t even put it into words.” 
“Y/N, this is love.” 
Y/N shook her head and stared at her mother with anger, “You need to go. I can’t do this.” 
“He just told you he love-”
“GO. NOW.” 
Y/N watched her mother leave and then she glanced at Taehyung with a frown as tears started to form. Taehyung stood his ground and looked at her, “Y/N...I’m in love with you. You are the stars at night that keep the moon company. You are forever on my mind. When the sun makes its way or even when the moon appears, you always appear. I crave sleep because I know I can always see you. Y/N-”
“Tae...I simply can’t”
Taehyung glanced at his shoes and then back at her, “Is it because you won’t let yourself feel love?”
 “I can’t do this right-”
“Y/N, please. Give me a chance.” 
She stared at him and a single tear fell, “Don’t do this to me.”
“Y/N, I want you. In the short amount of time that I have been with you, I have learned so much. Please Y/N. We can be scared together.” 
Y/N bit her lip and more tears came down, “Please...” 
Taehyung nodded his head and took a step back, “I’ll be waiting for you...” 
She watched him leave and quickly closed the door. She leaned against the wood and fell to the floor with tears coming down. Her mind is telling her to focus on her school but her heart wants Taehyung. It only wants him...but she is so scared to be in love. She can’t be left alone again.  
.*・。゚☆゚.*・
Sometimes silence can be the greatest enemy. Y/N sat on her bed as she stared outside her window. The day was beautiful, not a cloud to be seen but her heart felt clouded. The look on Taehyung’s face was sketched into her heart and it made her feel sick. Was she making the right decision? 
There was a knock at the door and she slowly got up from her bed. Not even caring to look through the peephole to see who it was, she opened the door. She let out a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame, “Mother now is not the time.”
“This is the time. You need me.” 
Y/N glanced at her shoes and shook her head, “You won’t listen to me. Come in.” 
They both sat on her couch while Y/N stared at the wall with an emotionless stare. While her mother looked at her with concern, “Y/N, the truth about your father...”
“Mom, I don’t think I want to hear it.”
“Please.”
Y/N looked up to see her mom’s face twist into a serious face and she nodded her head, “Okay...”
“Your father never loved me. He made that very clear. He just picked me because he knew I was the easiest to marry. When I became pregnant with you it was the happiest day of my life but he was the opposite. He wanted a son and I was afraid that he would...he would hurt you. He visited and acted like your dad until you were six, I had enough. It wasn’t fair for you. I told him to leave and never come back...and that’s what he did.”
Y/N stared at her mother with wide eyes and guilt creeping up her throat, “Why did you let me hate you for so long?”
“I felt like I deserved it. I made you think your father loved when in reality he never loved you....I’m so sorry.”
“No mom, I’m sorry.” 
Her mom stood up and sat next to her grabbing her hands. She put her hands into her lap and smiled, “When I saw that my daughter was going to fall in love, I felt so happy.” 
“I don’t think it's going to work out..” 
“Nonsense, do you see how he looked at you?” 
Y/N glanced up at her mother and shook her head, “No...I didn’t.”
“He looked at you as if you were his summer sky after a long winter. He loves you.”
“I can’t be capable of that.”
“Why?”
“I’m so stubborn...I put my foot down so fast that I can’t even think. I’m...I’m scared to love him. Not because he’s a bad man, the opposite really. He’s a great man. It’s rare to find that...I’m broken and I’ve been left alone for so long. Why would anyone love something broken? I couldn’t even get my own father to love me? How could I hold something so delicate?” 
Y/N’s mom frowned at this and pushed hair behind her hair from her forehead, “That’s what love is. You take that chance and the person you chose to love makes a beautiful painting. Even through the hard times, the painting gets more colors. You deserve to be loved and cherished. Don’t let fear hold you back. Be in love, Y/N.” 
Y/N looked away with a tear escaping and she let out a sour laugh, “Do you think he would want me still?” 
“I know he does?” 
“Why because you're a fortune teller?”
“No, because I’m your mother. For once in your life, do something for yourself.” 
After the conversation with her mother, Y/N ran to Eunbi’s house not caring what shoes she had on. She knocked on the door to see Eunbi and Seungkwan looking at her with curious eyes, “Are you okay, you haven’t called us?”
Y/N nodded her head, “I need help to get ready for a party...I need to tell Taehyung something important.”  
Seungkwan raised his eyebrow, “What is it?”
“That I love him...I’m still scared but I want to be scared with him. I want him...I want him so bad that I-I can’t even explain it. I need help.” 
Seungkwan smiled at this and nodded his head, “I’m so happy you finally figured it out...Let’s get you ready.” 
Eunbi opened the door wider and clapped her hands, “You need to wear lavender.” 
“Why?”
“Taehyung loves lavender...duh.”
Taehyung stood next to Jimin as he stared down at his shoes with an emotionless face. Jimin sighed and nudged his shoulder, “Think of the positive...you get to see your grandma.” 
“I have missed her. I wish she could’ve met Y/N.” 
Jimin rubbed his shoulders gently and gave him a soft smile, “Breakups are hard. I should know.” 
“This wasn’t even a breakup. It was me finally meeting the right person but it never goes my way.” 
The door opened and Taehyung’s mother came in with a smile, “The party is starting. Your grandma is excited to see you.” 
Taehyung nodded his head, “I’m excited to see her as well.” 
His mother frowned and walked towards him to fix his tie. She fixed his hair and smiled, “Just remember the night has just begun.”  
“Mom, she’s not coming...”
“You don’t know that to be true. So, just wait.” 
Taehyung and Jimin made their way downstairs. His grandma was talking to a small group of people and hearing her laugh made him smile. Ever since his grandpa passed away it was rare to hear that laugh. He continued to walk towards her but he stopped in his tracks when he heard a familiar voice. He ignored Jimin’s voice and made his way through the group of people. He stood there frozen when he saw her. 
Y/N turned towards him and gave him a gentle wave, “I didn’t want you to wait any longer....” 
Taehyung glanced at his grandma who gave him an approved smile, “Grandma, I’m going to take Y/N.”
“Go right ahead.” 
Taehyung’s grandma watched with a smile on her face. She turned towards her daughter and smiled, “Is she the one?”
Taehyung’s mom smiled and nodded her head, “I believe so.” 
“I hope he is happy.” 
Jimin walked towards them with a wine glass in his hand, “I know he is.” 
Taehyung grabbed her wrist and made their way to the library where no one would be. He touched his finger to her chin as the light detailed out her face. Her eyes held anticipation and her lips were the perfect shape. He was glad no one noticed them. He smiled and this smile was as wide as the Cheshire cat. 
“Taehyung...” She whispered and the softness of her voice made him want to fall to his knees.
He leaned in with their foreheads together, “Yes?” 
“I-I love you...”
He smiled at this and brought his lips to hers, the gentleness that he wanted to showcase was taken over with hunger. He kissed her with a passion that he didn’t even know he had. This wasn’t about sex, this was about love. Love in its purest form. 
“Taehyung?” Y/N gasped as he was gently pushing her down onto the sofa. He was kissing her jaw and then her neck, “Taehy-” 
He smiled to himself when he nipped her earlobe and removed himself from her to stare down at her, “Yes?” 
“I just-”
He kissed her again with the desire that was harboring in his chest. His hands went under the hem of her dress and looked back up at her, “Yes, my love?” 
“Nothing. Continue.” 
He pressed his hips against her and let the moon shine through the windows blush at the sight. He slid his hand over the soft skin of her thigh and then towards her stomach, “Don’t leave me.” 
“I would never leave you. I will stand by you from now on.” 
Taehyung smiled at this and leaned forward kissing her neck. His large hands cups her face as his thumb traced her jawline. He pressed his lips to hers as he slipped his tongue between their lips. She moaned into the kiss digging her fingers into his suit jacket. His warm lips were new but somehow they felt so familiar, “We can’t take off our clothes...someone can walk in.”
He frowned at this and kissed her forehead, “I’ll make it quick then. I’ll take you back to my apartment and show you properly.” 
“Who said I’ll go home with you?” 
He rolled his eyes and unbuckled his belt in record time. He unzipped his pants and glanced at her, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” 
His fingers toyed around her underwear before pulling it down to her ankles. She bucked her hips forward and he couldn’t help but smirk. He went under her dress skirt and started to place kisses around her clit, sucking it. A breathless moan left her lips as his fingers ran up and down her folds, “Taeee~.” 
“I need to make sure you're ready for me, love.” 
His fingers became coated in her arousal and she felt her body becoming tingly. He pulled away and she frowned at this. He leaned forward placing a kiss on her collarbone, “Don’t look too upset, you're going to come on my cock.” 
He dragged the red tip along her wet folds causing her to whimper at the touch. She was already so sensitive. He switched positions and had her on top making things easier. She gripped onto his shoulders, guiding him into her. “O-Oh, please Tae.” He kissed the side of her head and groaned when she sank down fully. 
The two panted heavily, relishing the moment before he started to move his hip. His mind takes over as he feels her clench at every movement. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room that would make anyone blush. It wasn’t time to be shy. 
“Look at you, just for me and only for me.” 
He brushed soft kisses across her collarbones, thrusting in and out. His chest is pressed against hers as hands intertwine with each other. He clenched his jaw and leaned down to bring her into a passionate kiss. She pushed him gently and groaned, “Tae, can I come?”
“Yes, you can love.” 
He swiftly thrusts into her and this was it for her. She arched her back and he smirked when he felt her cum go onto his pants. He continued to thrust into her and he kissed the side of her head as she wrapped her arms around his neck, “You did so good for me.” He let out a breathy groan and he couldn’t help himself from coming in her. She moaned at the feeling and they kissed as they moaned into each other's mouths. 
When they pulled away she smiled at him, “I would like to go to your house.”
“Anything for you.” He leaned down and kissed the moles on her wrist.
.*・。゚☆゚.*
“Taehyung?” 
Taehyung turned around and raised his eyebrow, “Jennie?” 
It was the start of a new semester and something Taehyung wasn’t looking forward to. He was in line to pick up his tea when he felt a tap on his shoulders. He was surprised to see Jennie looking at him as if she was begging him, “You never texted me back.” 
“What? That was like four months ago, I thought that would be clear.” 
Jennie frowned at this and crossed her arms over her chest, “I thought you wanted me. We could always spend time at the pool. I know you liked it there.” 
“Listen, Jennie, I-”
“Babe.”
Jennie turned around to see Y/N smiling at Taehyung. Y/N walked past Jennie and hugged Taehyung. She kissed his cheek and turned towards Jennie with a raised eyebrow, “And you are?” 
“I’m Jennie, who are you?”
Y/N smirked at this and kissed Taehyung’s neck. When she looked back at Jennie she smirked, “I’m his girlfriend.” 
After the party for his grandmother, Taehyung asked Y/N out. It was a beautiful confession, I love you and I’m not used to love but I want to learn with you. I know you're scared of love but I am too. Let’s conquer this fear together. I love you Y/N. How could Y/N say no? Taehyung did keep his promise. He gave the tickets to Japan to her but they went together with his mother. The small vacation was enjoyable. It made Taehyung happy to know his mother loves his girlfriend.
Everyone at school was shocked about him being in a relationship. He understood why. Y/N’s friends were equally shocked because Y/N was so against relationships for the longest of times. It was clear to everyone that they were in love with each other and nothing was going to change that. 
They went to visit Y/N’s mother and he tried his best to keep the peace.
“I can see a wedding in the future and five kids.” 
Y/N rolled their eyes and intertwined her fingers with his, “Mom, no fortune telling. I’m trying to have a good lunch with you for once.” 
“I can’t help it if I see it.” Y/N’s mom leaned forward towards Taehyung and smiled, “You like the name Aria?” 
Taehyung nodded his head slowly, “Yes?” 
“I love that name for my future granddaughter.” 
“MOM!” 
Seungkwan and Eunbi stopped reading Pen’s articles after they saw Y/N’s name. It wasn’t fun anymore when someone you cared about was being talked down to. Y/N was glad they stopped reading the trash. She still didn’t understand how Pen knew some things but she wasn’t going to think too much about it. 
She smiled when she saw Jennie’s face drop when she said this. Jennie looked around her awkwardly and just left the scene. Y/N smiled at this and looked up to Taehyung, “I don’t think she likes me?” 
“Who cares? I love you.”
“And I love you. 
────°˖✧ ✧˖°────────°˖✧ ✧˖°────
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shawty-writes-a-little · 1 year ago
Text
don’t ever let go
꒰ erik lensherr x fem!reader ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚
.𖥔 ݁ 🪐˖ word count: 2.2k+
⌞ plot: sort of hurt comfort when erik finds his rather irritable posing s/o going through a nightmare ⌝
warnings: nightmares, angst sort of (fluff end dw)?
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People with contradictory world view and general thinking are bound to be engaged in petty disagreements. As strongly opinionated as Erik was he never got along with one certain mutant. Erik and y/n, always fighting, at each other’s throats. Most times they were rather entertaining scene creators at the Xavier’s institute, clashes were famous with the most colourful language used amongst the students. However Charles grew tired of this, best minds he knew were always bickering and fighting. Petty fights and little grudges turn ugly if pit against each other on battleground. God forbid that situation ever arises but Charles bad seen enough falling apart within his own to know how much could go wrong.
So, to get them along he paired the two to gather intel on some government bills at the procession gala held at Berlin. He was persuasive but not god, after all it was the hardest task in the world to get erik and y/n sit for dinner at the same table let alone go halfway across the world and pose as a couple, stay in one place and not blow cover? Charles came with the most believable persuading story as he could, lied the Oval Office asked for the two to specifically attend the mission this and that and it was a long afternoon trying to convince the two but the professor won in the end.
-
That is how Erik and her ended up in Berlin, the moment they were alone, not posing anymore their smiles and in-love act completely dropped. Shutting the hotel door behind him Erik sighed. It was a whole week of these galas and charity events, back from their first one and y/n was already growing tired of Erik. “You know I kind of hated how you manhandled me back there.” She complained as she leaned on the wall for support and removed her heels.
“What?” He asked confused as he removed his blazer and draped it on the sofa chair “What are you talking about I did no such thing” he said not exactly recalling anything like that.
“You said something to that senator in French and then grabbed me close to you to kiss my forehead like I was on the run from you-who does that?” Y/n said, she didn’t speak French so she didn’t understand what the conversation was on about regardless the moment she recalled, she wasn’t even standing that far away for him for him to yank her close to him like that.
“A husband?” Erik said raising brows as he exaggerated in obviousness removing his cufflinks.
“With the grace of a woodcutter?” She scoffed as she rolled her eyes at him, it’s not like she minded that, the two posed like that the entire night at the event it’s just that erik would time and time loose his cool and she didn’t want any casualties further into these galas “it would look like I’m your hostage instead of wife can’t you try and look gentler somehow?”
“You just made that up.” Erik said as he shook his head disregarding her suggestion “The senator made a rather vulgar comment about you in French by the way, instead of adding to it I held you close. Would you rather I laugh along with him and appear rather crass?”
“you can try but you can’t really change what you are” Y/n mumbled with a stifled chuckle at her own jab as she stood by the dressing table mirror removing her jewellery.
“I heard that.” He responded giving her a disappointed look but she just laughed at it anyways. He changed out of his shirt as they’d conversed. Not engaging in silly debates anymore y/n went to the adjoining bathroom to change out of her dress.
Erik worked on gathering some background on the guests of the events they’d met and conversed with, information in context of intel they had so far whilst y/n updated Charles via a long email, two emails, one of the intel and other how much insufferable Erik was.
Their third day in Berlin went remotely same, night however was about to be different. Y/n was settling their bed, the first two nights they took turns on the sofa but it turned out to be very uncomfortable to sleep in so they decided to share the bed. Erik glanced up from his laptop as y/n was setting up a pillow wall on the bed “That is so childish.” He commented.
“Yeah yeah” y/n said as she rolled her eyes, making clear partition of the bed. “Do not invade my side alright?”
Erik couldn’t help but laugh at the use of ‘invade’ “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said as he turned his attention back to the laptop. He decided to stay up rather late that night even after y/n retreated to bed. He would joke that it was easier to work after she was sleep and before she was awake as if he secretly didn’t hate the absence her ramblings brought.
An hour or so had passed, Y/n was sound asleep as he decided to wind up. He left to clean the desk, brush his teeth and wind down. When he came to bed he was met with y/n mumbling in her sleep, tossing and turning on her side of the bed.
His gaze softened when he realised she might be going through a nightmare. It seemed difficult, whatever she was seeing, he couldn’t understand her words but he caught a few pleading syllables here and there. “y/n…hey wake up” he cooed softly as he tried to wake her up, he gently placed his hands on her shoulder. “Hey-you’re just dreaming y/n…wake up.” He spoke and she got up almost instantly, breathing heavily.
She sat up trying to get used to the surroundings again, always the same thing. She hated when those dreams resurfaced revolving around her most despised horror. Erik had heard from Charles of what she’d been through when she was new, he didn’t know she was impacted to this scale. “Are you alright?” His voice arose another bad feeling inside of her. She didn’t want to be perceived as a weakling in front of him. When they’d argue he’d often call her that, not that she wouldn’t call him worse back but she would hate if he found out about this ordeal. She didn’t want to appear weak.
Getting out of the bed hurriedly she rushed to the table stand, feeling a bit dizzy after how fast she stood up and how fast she was trying to comprehend everything. She tried to pour herself a glass of water shakily. Her train of thoughts ran as she tried not to have a break down, her heart beat fast from the visuals of the nightmare still fresh in her mind. Erik was quick to pace up to her “Hey look at me” he spoke taking the jug of water out of her hands given she was struggling to pour it properly.
“Are you alright?” Erik repeated his question and he could note how she was still too shaken to answer correctly and fine enough.
“Y-yeah-“ she could muster out as she tried to level her breathing which didn’t seem to work apparently.
“Y/n.” He spoke leaning lower to meet her eyes since she avoided eye contact with him, “look at me” he spoke as he placed comforting hands by biceps to hold her upright. “Deep breaths with me, come on.” He spoke as he guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. He rubbed her back as she was still slightly trembling guiding her to breathe evenly.
After a few moments when she tried to fake the best proper composure she could she nodded, “I’m alright thanks” she said very softly afraid she might tear up any moment. Ever so tired and scared of her recurring nightmares, just when she thought it was getting better. Why would it not leave her alone? Why couldn’t she move past it?
Erik wasn’t a mind reader but the look on her face read enough for him at the moment, “y/n” he sighed “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I said it’s fine-“ she said with an exhale however her breaking voice and avoiding stare said something else. She couldn’t hold it back anymore as the brimming tears surfaced out of her eyes. She held her head in her hands weeping into them. Erik didn’t say anything as he wrapped his arm around her in a comforting manner, “I-I’m not this soft alright I’m not-I’m not weak” she told him like she had to justify her crying.
“Hey hey hey-“ he cooed as he pulled away just to see her face again, “who says you’re weak? This is completely alright.” He reasoned with her as she cried.
“No I—I just-“ she didn’t exactly know how well she could phrase this out for him. How much terrified she was of what she kept seeing in her dream, from her past, haunting her again and again and how much she didn’t want him to think she was this much of a mess.
“You are not weak, y/n. You are anything but weak. It’s difficult going through a nightmare but you’re really strong, you made out of it see” he talked to her patiently in a very encouraging manner as he wiped her tears with his sleeve.
“It felt so real-“ she choked up as she tried her best to stop crying, Erik took her into his arms, giving her a hug as he spoke sweet nothings to him.
She cried and trembled in his arms unable to speak coherently until she soothed her crying, he held her throughout it. “I am just so tried Erik…” she said as he pulled away to look at her face.
He removed the hair in front of her face, tucking it behind her ear, “is it always this bad?” He asked her, feeling really awful how much she’d had gone through already and even then in sleep she wasn’t left alone of it. Y/n nodded as she wiped the tears off her face, she wasn’t so phased by ‘this’ bad given she was used to them now.
“Is it frequent?” He asked, his softened gaze holding her trouble one.
“Not as frequent but-it comes and goes, I just can’t escape it.” She said with a dejected sigh. “I am used to it I just wish I was—properly used to it. I wish I wasn’t this affected…”
“Nobody should have to be used to this y/n it’s difficult, really difficult.” He told her as he held her hands in his softly. “It’s bound to affect you, in the worst way it’s made you…you. Surely doesn’t define you but it defines your strength, your courage. You are truly strong.”
“But I’m afraid Erik” she told him looking away, “I am exhausted of being this afraid.”
“And that’s fine.” He replied holding her hands in his a little tighter to impose the exaggeration of his words, “It takes strength to keep going, even more to be afraid and still keep going and you have done that job very well y/n.” He spoke as he kissed her forehead with a comforting smile adorning his face, reflecting how proud he was she made it through. “Let me help you?”
Y/n took a deep breath as she nodded, she felt rather safe in his help. In his presence and his touch, it was as comforting as it was safe. He helped her through that night, holding her close staying awake until she eventually fell asleep in his arms and he didn’t want to ever let go.
HIIII I hope you have a good day pls pls pls let me know if anyone wants to read more erik pieces! Requests are open too🕺
Feed back is desperately appreciated :)
Go drink water. Now. Or you will stub your toe in a corner in the next 10 seconds.
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oncasette · 2 years ago
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just a lil request for Phil Wenneck… car sex? 🫶🏽
𝗜’𝗗 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗨𝗣 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗢𝗨𝗖𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨
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phil wenneck x wife!reader
summary: 1.4k.
The two of you are barely twenty minutes into your drive–that is, apparently, only an hour and a half according to your husband–when Phil starts getting handsy. You’re back in one of those little sundresses he adores so much, seat pushed back as far as it can go, feet crossed and perched up on the dashboard. 
or the one where phil fucks his wife on a deserted back road.
warnings: smut, piv, car sex, (almost) reckless driving, unprotected sex
masterlist | taglist
Phil wouldn’t admit it to anyone–not even to you, most days–but he was a sucker for the domestic scene. It was such a guilty pleasure, seeing you in those pretty little sundresses while you made lunch in the kitchen. Bare feet against the linoleum of your mudroom as you fold the laundry. Watching you brush your teeth on your side of the jack and jill sinks in your bathroom in one of his old t-shirts from college. 
It leaves his brain a little hazy, a little numb. Clouds his judgment and his rational thought until he’s sliding up behind you while you make breakfast, arms linked around your middle as he presses barely there kisses to the seam of your shoulder. 
“You got any plans today?” he asks, moving the neckline of the shirt you’d stolen with the tip of his nose and humming against the bare skin he finds there. 
“No,” you say. “Unless you count lounging around here.”
“Good,” he says. “Because we’re going on a trip.”
The palms of his hands are splayed wide against your hips, beneath the hemline of the shirt and skimming the thin edge of the panties you were wearing. 
“Phil-” He hushes you, quickly, kissing the spot below your ear. “I’ve already got you a bag packed.”
“We can’t just go,” you scoff, smiling. 
“Why not? C’mon, baby, I’ve already got you a bag packed and everything,” he says. His voice is low and gravely, chest rumbling against your back. “Let me spend some time with my beautiful wife, hm?”
“Y-yeah.” The words come out as a stutter, slipping down your tongue as Phil nips at your pulse point and molds you into putty in his palms. “Yeah, let’s go somewhere.” 
“There’s my good girl,” he says and you huff out of your nose at the loss of contact from his lips. 
He pulls away to give you time to finish cooking the food you were no longer interested in and stalks back up the stairs to grab your bags. 
The two of you are barely twenty minutes into your drive–that is, apparently, only an hour and a half according to your husband–when Phil starts getting handsy. You’re back in one of those little sundresses he adores so much, seat pushed back as far as it can go, feet crossed and perched up on the dashboard. 
He’d left you alone to get ready. He’d loaded up the car, tossing the single bag stuffed full of both of your clothes into the trunk and the trader joe’s bag of snacks into the back seat, leaving you alone in the bedroom to dress as you pleased. 
Needless to say, Phil was more than shocked when his fingers pushed up the pale yellow fabric of your dress and found nothing but more of your soft, bare skin when he’d expected the delicate cotton of your underwear again. 
“Jesus Christ, baby,” he scoffs as he takes his gaze off the road to turn toward you with wide eyes. 
“Eyes on the road, handsome,” you say, tapping his cheek delicately with the hand closest to him. 
“I can’t believe you’re not wearing panties right now.”
You hum in response, bringing your hand down to fiddle with his fingers from where they’re still resting on your leg. It’s like your touch brings him back to the surface, the drag of his hand resuming as he moves closer to the slick between your thighs. 
“Holy fuck,” Phil groans as you guide his hand, coating his fingers in your arousal. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” 
The tip of his middle finger has just barely pressed itself into your pussy when he pulls his hand away entirely, leaving you with a whine caught at the base of your throat. You watch him white knuckle the steering wheel and flick on the turn signal. 
“Phil?”
“Yeah, baby?” He checks the mirrors before abruptly changing lanes. 
“What are you doing?” you ask. 
“Getting off the interstate so I can find a back road… or something,” he says. His jaw clenches so tight you think you can hear his teeth grinding. 
“Phil,” you sigh as you adjust in your seat, leaning toward him over the middle console to slide a hand across the denim of his pants. Your eyes roll back in your head as you think about how delicious it would feel against your clit, thighs clenching as your hand finds the bulge in his jeans. 
“Fucking christ. Give me five minutes…” he sighs. “Two minutes.” 
You palm his cock, heat emanating through the fabric. He’s finally reached an exit, the three minutes that had passed in the midst of the exchange feeling more like twenty as Phil holds your wrist to keep your movements at bay. The two of you are lucky enough to have gotten off at a fairly deserted spot. A decently dense swath of trees surround the parts of the street not taken up by fast food places and gas stations and it only takes you a couple minutes to find a side street to pull off into. 
It feels like the car is thrown into park before the wheels stop rolling. Your seatbelt is unbuckled for you, hands landing on your hips to pull you over the center console until your knees are framing his legs and he’s looking up at you through hazy eyes. His hands are still on your hips, grip strong as he tugs you down fully onto his lap. 
“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?” he asks. He grinds you down, rolling your hips against his until there’s a wet spot in the denim. You were right, too. The way the fabric catches your clit with each drag has drool pooling beneath your tongue. 
“Want your cock, Phil,” you whimper. You lean forward, forehead pressed against his until you’re basically swapping air. 
“You think you deserve it?” he asks before spitting out “no panties” under his breath. 
“Want it so bad, please,” you whine. Your cunt is practically weeping over him, clenching around nothing. You reach between the two of you to paw at his belt. The buckle is bulky between your fingers and it takes you multiple tries to undo it. He lets you handle it, only pitching in to lift his hips to get his boxers and pants down just enough to slip his cock out. 
He pulses in your grasp, dick jumping as you swipe your thumb over the slit to spread the thick beads of his pre-cum over the head. He’s so thick your thumb just barely meets your index finger when fully wrapped around. 
You inhale sharply through your nose as you line him up. 
“You always feel so-” Phil groans. “Perfect wrapped around me.” 
You slide down his length slowly, allowing yourself to soak up the feeling of him stretching you out–despite the fact that you’d fucked the night before–until he’s fully seated inside of you. Until you’re rolling your hips into the coarse patch of pubic hair that meets your clit. 
He leans forward to connect your lips, drowning out the sound of your moans as he licks into your mouth. One of his hands comes up to cradle the back of your head as you lift your hips to start bouncing on him. He didn’t want a repeat of the last time you’d fucked in his car. He’d had to kiss you silly to keep you from feeling the dull throb in the back of your head. 
His other hand guides your movements, allowing you to pull up off him slowly only to slam you down on him so hard he nearly has you seeing stars. 
“God,” he exhales. You can already feel him twitching inside you. 
“I’m so close.”
“Me, too, baby. Hm,  haven’t cum this fast since I was a fucking teenager,” he says. It only takes the feel of you clamping down around him once to send his hips shooting up into you, cum spurting out of him in thick ropes that have your walls fluttering around him. 
You cum around him with a constant chant of oh my god. 
The two of you sit in the silence of your orgasms for the next couple minutes, giving Phil enough time to regain coherent thought as the mixture of both of you cum seeps out around his dick. 
“You know, I was gonna fuck you when we got there, but…” Phil’s lament is cut off with a half-hearted slap to the chest. 
1K notes · View notes
alwaysmicado · 9 months ago
Text
Sunshine
6.7k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 7
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Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, alcohol & painkillers, a little kiss, lots of sarcasm, angst, jealousy (reader would never!) Summary: A spontaneous meeting in a bar lays bare some uncomfortable truths. A/N: Why be sad when you can just turn off your feelings and not be sad anymore? It’s so easy. /s I can't tell you how much your messages about this series mean to me!! I love talking to you about it and I appreciate your enthusiasm and support soooo much!! Enjoy this part and let me know your thoughts! 🤍
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The Birds Don’t Sing, They Screech in Pain
– Werner Herzog
– – –
You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart. The world is a joke and nothing you do matters.
And you got a great ass. 
So fuck it.
You close the mirror cabinet and look at your reflection. The steam from your recent shower lingers in the air, creating a hazy atmosphere around you. With a determined gaze, you meet your own eyes, trying to convince yourself of what you so desperately want to believe. 
You. Don’t. Have. Feelings. 
Sighing exasperatedly, you leave the bathroom to go get dressed. You eye the empty space on the wall where the mirror used to hang in passing and can’t help but smile sardonically at the clean floor below. Who knew you had such a talent for cleaning blood? 
If your current job doesn’t work out in the long run, crime scene cleaner could be a viable alternative.
You rummage through your drawer for a fresh pair of panties, a soft bralette without any bothersome hooks, and a flowy dress you can easily pull over your head. Comfort is key today. Your morning shower proved tricky enough, but you managed somehow, maneuvering very ungracefully to keep your injured hand dry. 
Thankfully, you were smart enough to go to bed early last night and get up in time this morning, allowing you ample time to change the bandages and dress yourself with just one functional hand.
Exhaustion still lingers in every single one of your bones, but you’re determined to not let it get you down. Not again. So, you pour yourself a cup of strong coffee, sit outside on your balcony, pop the painkillers you got at the emergency clinic on Sunday, and browse the internet for a new mirror.
The sun kissing your skin feels nice, and the fresh air invigorates your senses. There’s even a flock of birds doing their choreographed dance in the sky. Just for you. You’re living in a goddamn dream, aren’t you? 
You scoff, down the rest of your coffee, cough when it goes down the wrong pipe, and go back inside once you don’t feel like you’re choking to death anymore. It’s time for work.
Your boss graciously let you work from home on Monday and Tuesday, but since there’s an important meeting scheduled this morning, she’s asked you to come to the office today. The meds should get you through the day, you’ll just have to figure out how to do your job effectively without the ability to type with your right hand.
You could try to push some of your workload onto the new intern who’s been unsuccessfully trying to flirt with you for the past month, but he strikes you as the type to show up with flowers and a teddy bear after you compliment his sneakers once — it’s probably not the best idea to entertain him.
An office romance sounds hot on paper, but your job is the only halfway stable thing in your life, so you don’t want to mess it up for some guy. Especially if said guy looks young enough to get carded in bars.
Why can’t you just not need money and not have to go to work at all? Is that really too much to ask? 
“Get your shit together,” you murmur to yourself as you grab your bag, your keys, and quickly check your appearance in the bathroom mirror. Eh, you look fine considering the messed-up past few days you had. The black wrist brace is kind of derpy—you can already see Kristen giggling at it and very much not believing any excuse you invent for it—but the smile you force onto your face looks virtually natural. 
What a little sunshine you are. 
Sandals on your feet, sunglasses sitting on your nose, wireless earbuds in your ears, your top three songs of the week on a blissful loop, you start your walk to the office. Nothing bad can touch you when the rhythm of your favorite beats courses through your veins, encapsulating you in an invincible cocoon.
For the first few minutes at least.
Your pulse quickens and your chest tightens as the gas station, where Joel could barely wait to pull out of you before gushing about his date, comes into view. And of course, Chris, the clerk, steps outside right as you pass it to inexplicably water the two withered plants next to the entrance.
You attempt to speed walk, hoping to avoid an embarrassing encounter, but where’s the fun in that, right? Sure enough, you hear him calling after you.
You roll your eyes behind your glasses and reluctantly stop, pulling out one of your earbuds as you turn to face him. His eyes fixate on the black brace around your wrist.
“What happened to your hand? Too much fun on the weekend?” he asks, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.
You sigh, not in the mood for a detailed conversation, and also very much aware of what he’s probably insinuating. “Just a little accident at home,” you reply, keeping it vague. “Don’t do yoga if you’re drunk.”
He chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind.” When he realizes you’re not going to say anything else, he’s nice enough to not keep you any longer. “Well, I hope it heals soon. And let me know if you, uh, need anything. You know where to find me.”
You nod, offering a polite smile, and continue on your way, reinserting the earbud to drown out the world. You turn up the volume, lip-sync, and ignore Joel’s call without missing a beat.
– – –
“Please, tell me. Please, please, please. Come on…you know you’re gonna tell me eventually, so let’s just save us some time and get it over with. You know I can keep a secret.”
As expected, Kristen is very intrigued by your wrist brace. In fact, she has been switching between begging for you to tell her what happened and coming up with some outlandish theories since you sat down at your desk four hours ago. To nobody’s surprise, they all involve some sort of sex accident. 
It’s kind of funny, though, that none of the elaborate stories she imagines come close to capturing the absurdity of your reality. Oh well, you’re used to it by now. And yet, there’s no way in hell you’re going to divulge one of your most vulnerable and embarrassing moments to her. Not a chance. 
“I already told you,” you say without stopping your one-handed typing. “I got drunk watching The Bachelor and then my genius brain decided that was the perfect moment to try out some new yoga positions. It’s a miracle I only sprained my wrist and didn’t break my neck.” You put on your most convincing smile and look at her. “It’s embarrassing as shit, okay? I mean, look at this thing,” you point at your injured hand. “I look like a kid who fell off a swing on the playground.”
Kristen giggles and is about to say something, but right at that moment, she receives a phone call from a client. She sighs, narrows her eyes, and mouths, “This is not over.” You wink at her and go back to typing with your left hand, occasionally swearing under your breath when you hit the wrong keys. This is all so much fun. 
The rest of the day goes by in a blur of emails, phone calls, bad coffee, painkillers, Kristen putting a heart sticker on your wrist brace, another meeting, and your phone lighting up with new messages from Joel. 
By 5:30 p.m. your brain is about to explode, so you decide to call it a day and leave. There’s a frozen pizza waiting for you at home and you can hear your pajamas and sofa calling your name. Sweet, sweet solitude; it’s so close you can feel it. You just have to walk out fast eno–
“Drinks.”
“Did you seriously just hide behind that plant and jump out?” you chuckle, and Kristen’s grin tells you that is absolutely, one hundred percent what just happened. 
“Drinks,” she repeats. And when you open your mouth, she says it again, but this time she gives you her most adorable pout.
“Okay, okay,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes. “You can stop the puppy routine.”
“I love how easy you are,” she beams at you and plants a kiss on your cheek. “Let’s go!”
The warmth of the summer evening envelops you both as you step outside. The sun, still casting its golden hues across the city, paints the urban landscape with a vibrant palette. Kristen, with a fancy sun hat perched on her head that perfectly complements her black hair, looks for bars near you on her phone.
As you try to decide on a bar, the balmy air carries the distant sounds of the city’s summer symphony. The occasional laughter from a nearby cafe mingles with the hum of traffic, creating a lively backdrop to your anticipation.
Amidst the ambient noise, your phone buzzes with Tommy’s name flashing on the screen. You answer, bringing the phone to your ear.
“Hi Tommy.”
“Hi honey,” Tommy’s voice comes through, the background noise indicating he’s at a lively place. “Just calling to ask how you’re doing today.”
“You know you don’t need to call me every day to ask me that, right?” you chuckle, still unable to understand why he even cares. You don’t deserve him.
“Come on, it’s the highlight of my day,” he says in mock offense, and you can perfectly picture the grin on his face. 
“Well, if it’s that important to you…” you say, a smile on your lips. “I’m good. My friend and I are going for drinks. Just need to decide on a bar first.”
“What a perfect coincidence! I’m at this new place right now. They got great burgers and drinks, even non-alcoholic stuff,” he tells you excitedly. “Oh and Joel’s here, too.”
Your heart skips a beat at Tommy’s words. Joel is there, at the same place. The thought of seeing him again stirs a concoction of emotions within you — longing, uncertainty, and a subtle yearning for things to be okay. There’s an undeniable pull. You miss him.
As you take a moment to think of your answer, Kristen mouths, “Who’s that?”
“It’s my friend, and he’s inviting us to join him at a bar,” you explain to her.
Tommy’s voice perks up on the phone, “Come on, it’ll be a blast. The more, the merrier!”
You look at Kristen questioningly, and she gives you two thumbs up and a big smile. 
You sigh and look up at the sky. There’s a big bird chasing a smaller one. “Okay, we’re in,” you say to Tommy, and his excited shouts in your ear make you giggle. He sends you the location and you immediately order an Uber for you and Kristen. You don’t have to wait for long.
Sitting in the car, your initial, albeit reluctant, excitement has turned into annoyance as the hands of the clock seem to move at an agonizingly slow pace. What was supposed to be a ten-minute journey has stretched into an interminable thirty minutes, courtesy of the unrelenting rush hour traffic. 
The air inside the car feels stifling, even with the AC humming, and the incessant chatter about football between the driver and Kristen becomes an indistinct drone. Your lack of interest in the sport combines with the whirlwind in your head, making their conversation an incomprehensible blur.
As your stomach churns, a sense of queasiness settles over you, intensifying the already uncomfortable ride.
By the time you make it to the bar, you’re tired, cranky, and wish you had just gone home after work. You could be lying on your sofa right now, stuffing your face with pizza, watching Netflix, and testing your new vibrator before falling asleep in your soft bed. But no, you just had to be social, hm?
As you enter the crowded and lively bar, the buzz of upbeat chatter, clinking glasses, and the rhythmic thump of music surrounds you. Everyone’s loud and happy, and you’re just not in the right mood for it. Slowly making your way through the sea of faces with Kristen trailing behind, you spot Tommy seated in a cozy booth.
The mere sight of him puts you at ease — for about a second, that is.
Your eyes fall onto Joel and the woman who’s casually touching his shoulder, comfortably nestled against the plush cushioned seats. You’ve never seen her before, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist or even a sober brain to figure out who she is. What is she whispering into his ear now? He’s laughing. You can see his eye crinkles from where you’re standing.
The sight is like a punch to your gut.
For a moment, you’re frozen in place, and the urge to turn around and run away grips you. Unwelcome emotions and memories surge back, catching you off guard and leaving you breathless. Just as you contemplate an escape route, Tommy spots you from across the room, his face lighting up. 
“Sweetheart,” he shouts, rising from his seat and waving enthusiastically. His excited shout draws the attention of everyone around him, including Joel. Your eyes lock, and for a brief moment, the world around you fades. The corners of his lips instinctively turn upwards as he looks at you, but after spotting your wrist brace and the pained look on your face, he furrows his brow.
What the hell happened to you?
In the blink of an eye, you flip a switch in your brain, put on the most radiant smile you can muster, straighten your shoulders and cross the room. Joel’s concerned eyes don’t leave you for a second.
“There she is,” Tommy says, genuine warmth in his voice as he leans in to plant a kiss on your cheek, followed by a tight, comforting hug. “It’s so good to see you.” 
“You too, Tommy,” you murmur, a sense of momentary relief washing over you in the wake of his presence.
He pulls away from the hug, extending his greeting to Kristen, before introducing you both to the beautiful brunette sitting next to his brother. Draping his arm around your shoulders, he tells you with a smile that, “This is Jan, an old school friend of mine. We actually didn’t plan this whole meeting with everyone, somehow we just all ended up here. Funny coincidence,” he chuckles and you strain the muscles around your mouth so hard it hurts.  
“It’s nice to meet you, Jan,” you say, reaching out to shake her hand. She reciprocates your greeting and gives you a charming smile. 
“And I don’t need to introduce you to this guy, huh?” Tommy grins, squeezing your shoulder.
Your gaze shifts to Joel, who’s caught in the limbo of whether to remain seated or stand up, so he ends up awkwardly half-standing, caged in the narrow space between the bench and table.
“Hi, Joel,” you say, your eyes lacking their usual vivacity—a detail not lost on him.
He settles back into his seat, audibly clearing his throat. “Hi, darlin’.”
He studies your face as you settle down beside Tommy. You look as beautiful and glowing as always, but the longer he looks, the more cracks in the carefully put up facade he can see. Your smile isn’t genuine, your eyes look a bit swollen—like you’ve been crying or not sleeping well—and your body language screams unease.
The others may not notice, but he does. Because he knows you.
Kristen takes a seat beside Jan, seamlessly weaving herself into the ongoing conversation with Joel. Her ability to navigate social dynamics with such ease leaves you marveling – how is she so good at this? Her charm extends, connecting the trio in animated small talk.
Your body eases into a semblance of relaxation as Tommy pulls you closer and presses a kiss on the crown of your head. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispers into your hair, a tender reassurance that brings a sense of solace.
Sitting up straight, you return his smile, gratitude evident in your eyes. “Thanks to you.”
Tommy beams at you, momentarily lost in the exchange, before redirecting his attention to the group. “Are you guys ready for a first round of drinks?” he asks, the unison response from everyone echoing with enthusiasm, a collective “yes” that adds a burst of energy to the already vibrant atmosphere. 
– – –
After three rounds of drinks (you very responsibly decided to change to coke after one mojito), burgers, nachos, sharing the epic tale of how you managed to hurt your hand doing yoga, Jan gossiping about the guy her adult daughter brought home last week, Tommy sharing hilarious stories from his and Joel’s workplace, and everyone seemingly having loads of fun, you let yourself relax a bit.
It’s nice witnessing Joel’s laughter and enjoyment. A warmth spreads through your heart at the sight, a flicker of happiness for him. Yet, the subtle discomfort lingers as Jan’s touch becomes a constant presence on his arm. Rationalizing it as a casual gesture during conversation and under the influence of drinks doesn’t fully erase the twinge of unease settling within you.
But you can handle it, you convince yourself.
Until you can’t. 
You can’t handle it when Jan’s hand finds its way to Joel’s thigh and her lips brush the shell of his ear.
You glance at Joel, searching for a reaction, a flicker of discomfort perhaps, but his response is subtle. A shift in his seat, a movement so slight it could be mistaken for a casual adjustment, yet there’s a discernible change in his demeanor. It’s a momentary pause, a beat in the rhythm of the evening.
The weight of the scene bears down on you, and you feel a pang of vulnerability, a subtle ache in your chest. In that split second, a mix of emotions surges within you – a tinge of hurt, a brush of jealousy, and a sting of betrayal.
Emotions you haven’t felt in years. Emotions you have sworn to yourself you’d never feel again.
Why does it bother you so much? Is it because it reminds you of how you touched him, how you ran your hand further and further up his thigh when he was taking you home for the first time, teasing him until he couldn’t take it anymore, pulled his car over and fucked you in the driver’s seat? Has she done that with him? Is she as addictive as you are?
This close to a full-blown panic attack, you jump up from your seat to the surprise of everyone at your table. You make brief eye contact with Kristen, who shoots you a sympathetic look. 
Excusing yourself, you navigate through the bustling crowd towards the restrooms, located downstairs and accessible via a staircase. There are three separate spacious restrooms, and you choose the first one. Inside, you immediately head to the sink, running your left hand under cold water. The sensation helps to calm you down.
Closing your eyes, you take deep breaths, reassuring yourself that it’s not a big deal, and that it’s exactly what it was always meant to be—probably even for the best.
Then, as you try to find composure, a knock on the door interrupts your thoughts.
“Occupied!” you yell in response to the knock, and then you hear Joel’s deep voice saying, “It’s me.” 
Of course it is.
You sigh exasperatedly and shuffle to the door to let him in. Joel enters, swiftly locking the door behind him.
“There’s two other restrooms, you know,” you murmur as you walk back to the sink and divert your attention to your reflection in the mirror, concentrating on fixing your hair. 
“Yeah, well, I specifically want the one with you in it,” he says with a little smirk, his eyes searching for yours in the mirror. As your gaze meets his, he’s taken aback by the lack of the usual sparkle that used to light up your eyes at the sight of him. The absence of that adoration he’s grown accustomed to leaves a void, and a tinge of concern creeps into his expression.
“Hey,” he says tentatively, his voice softer than before. “Are you okay, darlin’?”
You look at him, and the weariness in your eyes doesn’t escape his attention. There’s a distant quality to your gaze, and it sends a pang of worry through him. The connection he once felt in your eyes seems to have dimmed, and he can’t help but feel a sense of loss.
It’s the same expression you had when he last saw you. He hates it.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you respond, putting on your fake smile again, but the lack of conviction in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed.
Joel’s concern deepens as he steps closer, the teasing smirk replaced by genuine worry. “I’ve been trying to reach you, but you haven’t responded to any of my texts or calls.” He rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat, his brow furrowed. “I was worried something happened, and—he points at your injured hand—my feeling was right.” He tilts his head and studies your face. “What happened?”
You turn around and lean against the sink, holding your right arm with your left hand, your eyes revealing a complex mixture of emotions. “I told you already,” you say nonchalantly. “Getting drunk and trying to do elaborate yoga poses is a dumb idea if you’re as clumsy as me.”
Joel raises his eyebrows, not believing a word you’re saying. “That’s not all, is it?”
“What do you mean?” you say, feigning ignorance.
“You don’t seem like yourself and I’m…worried about you.” Joel’s concern etches lines on his forehead as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes, usually warm and comforting, narrow slightly as he studies your seemingly cheerful facade.
“But this is myself.” You point at your smiley face with your left hand and tilt your head. “You don’t like it?”
He shakes his head, a subtle sigh escaping him. “That’s not what I said. I just feel like something’s off.”
“Is it because I’m happy?”
“It’s because I don’t believe you’re happy. I know you too well, baby.”
You scoff, a defensive edge creeping into your voice. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that I’m happy? Do you want me to be miserable?”
“No, sweetheart. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be happy. But you’re lying to my face right now and I don’t appreciate that.”
You turn your head to avoid his gaze, your silence speaking volumes, your hand tightly gripping the flesh of your arm as if to contain the emotional turmoil threatening to spill over.
Stop it.
“Darlin’,” Joel says gently, closing the physical gap between you two, and reaching out to place his warm palms on your shoulders. “Look at me.”
A shiver runs down your spine and tiny goosebumps instantly form on your skin. You’ve missed his touch more than you care to admit — to yourself or to him. His touch is tender, a plea for connection, but you hesitate. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, revealing the deep sadness you tried to conceal.
What happened to you? Whatever it was, it breaks his heart that he wasn’t there to protect you.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asks softly.
“Not everything’s about you, Joel.”
“I know that. I just…wish you would let me know what’s going on.” His touch becomes a subconscious reassurance as he absentmindedly rubs your arms, as if trying to make sure you’re really there in front of him.
“Why do I owe you that? Why do I owe you every shitty detail of my life while I know virtually nothing about you?” you say a little sharper than intended. 
Joel takes a deep breath. “You don’t owe me anything. I just thought–” he pauses, searching your eyes. “I miss seeing that spark in your eyes when you look at me,” he admits, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I never fully realized how much it meant to me until now.”
You take a moment to process his words and his touch as frustration bubbles up inside you. Your heart aches.
“Why are you doing this?” 
“Doing what? Caring about you?”
“Ruining the mood.” You shake your head, swallowing what you actually want to say, any traces of happiness erased from your face. “If you’re trying to make me feel bad, it’s starting to work.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to understand what’s happened since the last time I saw you.” He tilts his head and studies your face, genuine concern in his eyes. 
All you can see, though, is disappointment. He’s disappointed in you, you can sense it. And how could he not be? You’re a liability, a mess. Looks like he’s finally seeing you for who you are, and that’s why he replaced you.
“And now’s the best time to do that?” you scoff, averting your gaze and looking around. 
“What am I supposed to do when you don’t respond to me for days on end and this is my only chance of talking to you?”
You look back into his eyes. “How about leaving it alone?”
“I can’t do that. Not when it comes to you,” he says, shaking his head and moving closer, his cologne filling your senses like a familiar embrace. His hands trace the contours of your neck, a gentle and deliberate touch that ignites a cascade of sensations. His thumbs brush your cheekbones with a tenderness that speaks of longing, his gaze dropping to your lips before finding your eyes again.
In that charged moment, the air between you thickens with unspoken desires before you both succumb to the magnetic pull drawing you together. Your heartbeat quickens, matching the rhythm of anticipation. Without breaking eye contact, he closes the remaining distance, his lips meeting yours in a soft yet passionate kiss. The familiar sensation of his lips on yours is both electric and comforting, and you allow yourself to get lost in it for a bit.
As he eases away, his fingers trail lightly down your neck and arms, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. There’s a soft smile on his lips as he breaks the silence. 
“I mean it when I say I care about you and want the best for you, darlin’,” he murmurs. “And you don’t have to tell me any details about what happened if you’re not ready yet, but I need to know what made you not want to call me. We’ve been there for each other in difficult situations before, so I just really don’t get it.”
You raise a skeptical eyebrow, frustration and anger intertwining with the lingering memory of his lips on yours.
“Why in the world would I ever call you while you’re on a date?” you say quietly, a steely edge in your voice, no trace of a smile to be found on your lips.
Oh. So it did bother you. 
Joel’s expression shifts from concern to a momentary realization, the lines on his forehead deepening. “I would always drop everything to be there for you. No matter where I am or what I’m doing.”
You laugh wryly. “Joel. Seriously. Are you really trying to tell me you were oh so worried about me while you were fucking someone else? And that you’re worried now even though she’s currently upstairs, desperately waiting for you to take her home? Come on, don’t insult my intelligence.”
He stares at you in utter disbelief and takes a step back, as if physically recoiling from the weight of your words. “That’s not what–”
“Look, Joel,” you push yourself off the sink, straighten up, and walk past him towards the door. “It doesn’t matter. You can fuck or date whoever you like. Jan seems nice and like a good match, so I’m very happy for you.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not doing any of that. You misunders–”
You turn around sharply to look at him. “I misunderstood the woman who’s had her hands all over you the whole evening?” 
“It’s not like that,” he insists, trying to get through to you. “She’s drunk as hell and probably doesn’t even realize what she’s doing. And I’m not interested anyway.”
“Sure. That’s why she’s here right now.”
“I had nothing to do with that. Tommy invited her without telling me,” he says, running his fingers through his hair as his stress is mounting. “Darlin’, please. This isn’t even about her; it’s about you and me. And maybe it’s time to stop pretending everything’s okay when it’s clearly not.”
You turn your head, deliberately avoiding the intensity of his gaze as the weight of his words settles in. His plea sends palpable waves of discomfort through your already wounded emotions, causing your chest to tighten further. Why is he doing this? Is this fun for him? 
“So you’d rather keep pretending everything’s fine?” he presses, his tone a mix of concern and urgency, the edges of his patience beginning to fray. 
Okay, now you’ve had it.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Joel. What do you want from me?” you hiss at him, frustration dripping from your words.
Joel is momentarily taken aback, but his own agitation prevents him from fully grasping your distress. A deep sigh escapes him as he props one hand on his hip, rubbing his eyes wearily with the other.
“Since when does it matter what I want?” he murmurs.
Ouch.
That hurt.
Your face falls, and you feel like he just slapped you across the face. The sting of his words cuts deep, causing tears to well up in your eyes.
Joel’s eyes widen in shock when he sees the look on your face. “Shit, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” he stammers, realizing the impact of his words a moment too late. “I’m sorry, baby, I–” his voice trembles with regret, desperate to undo the damage he’s done.
“Is that how you really feel? That I don’t care about what you want?” you ask, your voice shaky.
“No, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m so–”
“But that’s how you feel? Deep down?”
Why are you acting so surprised? Were you really naive enough to believe him when he said he was happy with you? God, you’re dumb.
“Oh, sweetheart…” he reaches out to wipe away the tears that are making their way down your cheeks, but you push his hand away.
“I came here for you, Joel,” you blurt out, your raised voice startling him. “And I–I spent the last three hours making conversation with everyone, including the woman you’re fucking, because I care about you and want you to be happy, even though my hand is killing me and I’m so drained I have to force my eyes to stay open.”
You express yourself with animated hand gestures as you talk through your tears, your voice breaking. 
“I had a horrible weekend and needed some time to recover, but I was so fucking happy to see you tonight because I’ve missed you and I’ve–I’ve never hidden how much I like spending time with you. Why is that not enough? What more do you want from me?”
Your big, watery eyes pierce Joel’s, and the fact that he’s the reason for your tears pierces his heart.
“Darlin’, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t right what I said.”
He takes a step closer to you, the desperation in his eyes matching the pain in yours, intending to pull you into a comforting hug to calm you—and himself—down. However, you immediately take a step back, creating a physical distance between you two.
“Do you want me to cry ‘cause seeing you with another woman breaks my heart? Is that it?” 
Joel stares at you incredulously, your accusing tone making him wince. “No, of course no–”
Your heart is racing, and you can feel the tightness in your chest growing with every second you’re looking into Joel’s eyes. Eyes that—until now—have always made you feel so calm, so safe, so…loved. Your hands tremble slightly, and a lump forms in your throat, making it difficult to speak.
“Do you want me to make a scene in front of everyone ‘cause it physically pains me to think you’re touching her the same way you touch me?”
Joel opens his mouth to say something, a fleeting impulse to express himself and try to console you, but he catches himself, realizing that uttering those words might inflict more damage than repair right now. 
“Do you want me to beg you not to leave me ‘cause I can’t even imagine my life without you anymore? Is that what you want?”
“Sweetheart...” He takes a step towards you, his eyes pleading, but you cut him off.
“No, I’m fucking sick of this,” your words spill out between sobs as tears stream down your face. “It’s always the same. I’m good enough only as long as I act the way you want it, and the minute you get bored or realize I’m not as perfect as you imagined, you replace me with someone better. Everyone always fucking leaves and I’m so sick of it.”
“Darlin’, I swear that’s not what’s happening,” Joel implores, his whole body so tense and hot he’s sweating through his shirt. “I’m not leaving and I really didn’t mean to hurt you.” 
You sigh deeply, grab a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall, blow your nose, and dry your tears.
“I knew this was gonna happen and I still let myself believe I could be enough for once,” you murmur more to yourself than him, your head pounding painfully.
Serves you right for having feelings.
Joel says your name gently, trying his best not to spook you. His words hang in the air like a lifeline, a desperate attempt to mend what is broken.
“You are enough. You’ve always been enough. I’m so sorry for making you feel otherwise.”
Your head is spinning, emotions tumultuous and unyielding. In dire need of fresh air and distance from Joel, you stagger towards the door. His voice follows you, pleading.
“Sweetheart, I promise I’m not going to leave you. And I’m so incredibly sorry for upsetting you, I just–” he exhales deeply and clears his throat. “I wanted you to be honest with me about your feelings, but this wasn’t the way to go about it. I’m sorry.”
The door swings open, and you turn around, the forced smile from before back on your lips. 
“Well, congratulations, Joel,” you say, your tone laced with a mix of bitterness and anguish. “You got what you wanted. I hope you’re fucking happy.”
The door slams shut behind you, leaving Joel stunned, alone with the haunting echoes of shattered trust and unspoken pain, the distant thump of music mirroring the beating of his remorseful heart.
As you make your way back upstairs, the residual heat of the argument lingers on your skin. Taking a deep breath, you enter the lively space once more. Tommy, who’s standing at the bar, notices you, concern etched across his face.
“Hey, is everything okay, honey?” he asks, his voice soft with genuine worry.
You manage a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. My hand’s just hurting really bad now and the meds make me dizzy, so I’ll head home.”
He furrows his brow. “Joel’s my designated driver, but I can take a cab, so he can drive you home.” He looks around, searching the bar for his brother. “Where is he anyway?”
“There’s a huge line in front of the restrooms, he’s probably still waiting. And it’s okay, Tommy, really.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, seeking solace, and bury your face in the crook of his neck. He responds by pulling you into a warm and reassuring embrace, a gesture that speaks volumes without the need for words. Luckily, he’s drunk enough not to smell his brother on you.
“I missed you,” you murmur, your eyes closed. 
Tommy strokes the back of your head and chuckles. “I missed you, too, sweetheart.”
He pulls away far enough to look into your eyes, giving you the brightest smile. “Tell you what. You come over for dinner on Friday — no ifs, ands, or buts. Maria’s been wanting to see you, and we just finished our patio, so it’s perfect.”
You pinch his cheek and shake your head at him. “It’s not fair that you’re this charming, you know? How could I ever say no?”
“Don’t say no, then,” he says playfully,  a hint of worry still in his eyes.
You sigh exaggeratedly. “Okay, okay, I won’t.”
“Attagirl. And you’re sure you don’t want Joel to drive you?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I always find my way home somehow.” You plant a kiss on Tommy’s cheek, and he finally agrees to release you from his embrace after securing a pinky promise that you ‘a hundred percent won’t flake out’.
You walk over to Kristen and Jan, who are still sitting at your table, engrossed in an animated conversation. Observing them for a moment, you find yourself captivated by Jan’s effortless charisma. She’s a real sunshine — and unlike you, she doesn’t have to fake it. Had you met her under different circumstances, you might have liked her. 
Kristen’s eyes meet yours, and her brow furrows slightly, registering the expression on your face for a fleeting moment. Swiftly, you put on a polite smile and step closer, masking the momentary vulnerability with practiced ease.
“Ladies,” you say, a touch of self-deprecating humor in your tone, “I know I’m lame, but I’m actually going home already. Just wanted to say goodbye.”
Jan answers first, surprising you with a warm smile. “Oh, that’s not lame at all! You’re just smarter than us.”
You hold up your injured hand and deadpan, “Yeah, I’m a real genius, aren’t I?”
Jan and Kristen giggle, and you join in, sharing a brief moment of camaraderie. You’re so good at this. Almost believable. 
As you look for your bag on the bench, contemplating the logistics of your departure, Kristen catches your eye and winks at you.
“I’ll come with you,” she says, giving you a reassuring look. “Our boss is gonna have a fit if I fall asleep at my desk again, so…I guess this is what being a responsible adult is,” she sighs. She hands you your bag, downs the rest of her drink, and the two of you say goodbye to Jan, who’s now getting up to search for the Miller brothers.
Kristen takes you by the hand, gently leading you outside. The cool breeze brushes against your face as the sun starts its descent, offering a much-needed breath of fresh air. Settling down down on the curb together, you find a comfortable spot, trying your best not to inadvertently flash someone as you adjust your dress. 
“I’ll call us an Uber,” Kristen says, her tone comforting. You appreciate the warmth of her presence as you wait for the ride, the fading sunlight casting a soft glow on both of you.
“Done.” She wraps her arm around you, providing a supportive shoulder for you to lean on. The two of you sit in silence, the ambient noise of traffic and distant chatter from the bar filling the air, serving as a backdrop to the racing thoughts in your mind. Eventually, Kristen succumbs to her curiosity. 
“So…” she starts, her voice carefully navigating the sensitive terrain. “That’s him?”
You chuckle faintly. “Yup. That’s him.”
“Hmm, I get it now. He’s hot as fuck,” she says, happy that she can make you laugh. “Do you think he’d be up for a threesome?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’d be up for it. I’m just not so sure about his heart being able to take it. Or his back. Or his knees.”
Kristen giggles and then looks at you for a moment, fascinated by this evening’s revelations. “It’s so interesting, I had no idea you were into older guys.”
“I, uh, didn’t know either before I met him.”
“I see,” she nods, a thoughtful expression on her face. Another minute of shared silence passes before she decides to just come out and ask you the one burning question on her mind.
“Do you love him?”
You don’t need a second to think about your answer.
– – –
Thank you for reading!! 🤍
→ part 6 || part 8 || series masterlist
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alsoprettyinpink · 2 months ago
Text
Holy shit I can’t believe I finally finished this. It’s been a while and I preface this by saying I’m not a writer. After watching Deadpool Wolverine, I realized that I needed to come back to tumblr to share in the fandom that is Wolverine/Logan. Not knowing all that I was getting into. I found some amazing fan fiction writers that also reminded me of my younger days and I figured I’d try it again. So here’s my filthy writing. Big thanks to @silverskyeline for honestly giving me the courage to post this. I nervous. Please comment if you liked it or whatever. I’ll add I did not edit the smut cause I got silly embarrassed. Sorry in advance. I’ll do better I promise.
Logan/Wolverine X Fem!Reader
Word Count: 7.6K
Tags: MDNI 18+, smut after the fluff I guess, P in V, unprotected (this is fiction so be safe), he's never pulling out, oral (F receiving), idk, bathroom and classroom sessions,
Summary: You are a new teacher at Xavier's institute, and you find your neighbor teacher, Logan, pretty attractive. There's a flyer for chaperones needed for the homecoming dance. Can you muster up the courage to ask him? What's the spark in his eye? Is it...lust?
A/N: During the dance scene, I highly recommend listening to Benson Boone’s Beautiful Things. Enjoy.
It was finally fall. One of your favorite seasons. The weather was finally cool enough for you to leave your hair down. Cool breezes dance through the changing foliage around the campus. The orange, red and some yellow ginkgo leaves flutter as you and many others return to campus. A fall greeting from mother nature herself.
You were a teacher for Charles this semester after he somewhat guilted you into doing it. You weren’t sure if this was going to be the right fit for you. The refreshing air however, made you forget that was even a thought. Instead it made you feel confident. He asked if you could teach art. You weren’t sure as to all that would entail, you just figured you could just be the cool art teacher. You had the look down; ponytail, large glasses and a patient attitude. You knew a change was in your future, whether it was your need to constantly reinvent yourself or just tired of the same routine. The season was ready for you.
You set up in your classroom, knowing that the history teacher was on the other side of the wall. Mr. Logan Howlett. You were unsure how much he really cared about teaching, you were unsure where he stood anywhere. A man of few words and grunts. You heard that he’d been alive for almost 200 years, so he knew the ins and outs of history. The truth about events that hadn’t been erased or only told from the victor’s perspective. You chuckled at the idea of his gruff and blunt perspective. Thinking of how he taught his class. How intimidating he must have come across.
You had met him a few times around the campus, knowing he was The Wolverine; one of the X-men. Feisty, brooding, no nonsense kinda guy…your thoughts trailed as you found yourself thinking of him more fondly. He was such an attractive man. His dark features, his muscular build. When he would walk by in the mornings before class, cup of coffee in hand, he’d wave and give you a faint smile...maybe it was a grimace. There were times that you didn’t see him, but he always saw you. You would be rearranging your classroom or you would be smiling reading a book, but he’d see you.
“Mr. Howlett.” You greeted, meeting him in the teacher’s lounge. You were a bit startled seeing him up close and personal, but the lure of coffee was too strong. He grunted as per usual going through the cupboard trying to find his favorite mug. “Call me Logan.” He spoke.
“If you don’t mind, on campus I have to keep it professional, Mr. Howlett. Maybe if I see you outside of school, I’ll drop the honorifics.” You responded smiling although you were nervous. You couldn’t help it. That was just how you operated at work; professional. He grunted again, still searching for a specific mug. “Ugh,” he muttered to himself. “This will just have to do.” He picked one that said, “Without Art the Earth Would Just Be ‘eh’” with rainbows going around the image of earth.
You chuckled seeing such a burly man with a silly cup. “What?” He snapped turning to you, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing so he could hurry up and end this torment.
“Sorry…That’s one of mine that I brought. It’s a silly one.” You find another one you brought, pulling it out of the cabinet. It was a rather large, light brown and dark brown body with a small sculpted face. It’s nose was pointed with beady eyes and large fat cheeks.
“What the fuck is that supposed to be?” He asked, concerned.
You looked at the mug again, smiling because you were sure it was a gift from someone, “I think it’s a hedgehog.” You responded, chuckling again just looking at its little stupid smiling face brought you so much joy.
The coffee was done brewing and you were positive so was this special interaction with Xavier’s finest teacher.
“It’s like a 20oz so it gets the job done.” you added, beckoning Logan to go first. He leaned with his hip to the counter, arms crossed, “Naw, you first darlin’.”
Darlin’?
You weren’t ready for that. You could feel the flush of your cheeks and the tips of your ears. You were hoping he wouldn’t notice. Quickly pouring some for yourself, you offered to pour his cup too. He thanked you, while you opened the fridge for creamer.
A flyer tagged to the fridge caught your eye. “Oh there’s a homecoming dance coming up? That’s so cute!” You exclaimed. “They'll probably need chaperones.” You muttered to yourself.
Your mind reminisced about your high school dances and how much fun you had at them. Hearing stories of others drinking or fooling around as high school kids tend to do, you sighed. Logan looked over at you drinking his black coffee. “You’re not thinking of going to that are you?” His brow was arched high as he spoke in disgust, his voice rough as if just being alive was torment.
“I’ve never been a chaperone before, but I just remembered how much I loved going to my high school dances. I went to every one!”
Your cheeriness seemed to amuse him and probably confuse him too. You couldn’t tell by looking at him, but the fact that he was still entertaining a conversation was making your heart flutter. Anxious, you asked him if he would make an appearance, already knowing his answer.
“Hell no! I ain’t trying to be here around those kids longer than I have to be.” He grabbed his (your) mug and headed back to his room, “See ya later, have a good day.” He added raising his hand up as he left.
You swallowed the dry lump that had formed in your throat. Your hands were a bit shaky, as you took a sip of that liquid gold. You awaited for the caffeine to fuel your body as it coursed through your veins. However, you immediately grimaced spitting the coffee back into your oversized cartoon mug. “He made jet fuel.” No amount of sugar or creamer would make that taste good. You sighed, disappointedly, and you poured it out and the pot to make a new one.
——————————————————————
Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. The same basic conversations with your neighbor teacher, Logan. You sighed out of frustration not really sure how you wanted to continue whatever this was. We’re you friends? We’re you just coworkers? You had some flirty banter with him, but you didn’t want to make it more than what it was. You also didn’t know too much about him still, despite your small talk efforts. He did converse with you despite you feeling like you were the main one engaged in said conversation. What you didn’t know was that he would watch you teach your class at first thinking that these kids needed something more important than art. However, he had to eat his words when one of them bested him during a training session, using something they had learned in your class. Sure you taught painting and other art forms, but he didn’t realize that creativity could make the kids turn into a modern day MacGuyver.
During a class, you were teaching about art in advertisements, you saw your students eyes glancing over to the window of the door. You turned your head and there he was. His eyes flinched as he tried to play cool, but you think he didn’t expect you to see him. “Ok, read this page and the next!” You opened your door and quietly closed it behind you.
“Are you ok, Mr. Howlett? Do you need something?” You asked in a slight whisper, Logan seemed tensed. He acted like you had caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing, although he seemed so cool about it though. You couldn’t really read him well. “Uh…no, I’m fine. Just… admiring your class. I’ll tell you later.” And he walked off with a turn of his heel. You watched him walk away like a sad puppy being left at home. Your eyes drank up his frame staring at his dark hair, red flannel, and those luscious jeans. Damn did they fit him well. You went back into your class expecting silence but they were awaiting your return.
“OOOoooOOO!” The class exclaimed. “Do you liiiiikkeee him?” One of the girl students mocked teasingly. Snapping back to reality, you whipped your head around, waving them off. “Mr. Howlett is a friend, Sarah. You wouldn’t like it if I asked you in front of everyone if you like Roberto?”
“Ew! I don’t like him!” And then the class erupted in laughter.
“Settle! Settle! Or I will give you a pop quiz!” A hush fell over the class.
“I’ll raise the anti!” Another student snarked. “I dare you to ask him to the homecoming dance. If you do, regardless of his answer, we’ll take your pop quiz!”
These little instigators!
“Fine, I‘ll ask him! Pop quiz. Books closed! Take out a piece of paper and something to write with.”
——————————————
After school, you decided to stay after a bit to get some grading done. You were sitting at your desk rubbing your temples. You could feel a headache coming down. Getting teased and called out by teenagers was not on your bingo card. Surprisingly enough, a good portion of them did really well on their pop quiz and it made you so proud of them.
The hedgehog mug was placed on your desk by a strong hand and a loud thud. Looking up, you saw Logan. His expression stern and void of any joy “Oh! Thanks.”
“It’s water.” He said bluntly. “You look like you got a headache comin’ on, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink water…” and he dropped some small brown pills next to you.
You groaned and took a sip. You hated the fact that he knew you well enough that he knew you were dehydrated and most likely over caffeinated.
“Are you really gonna go to that stupid dance next week?” He asked, his brows slightly furrowed. His usual gravely voice tinged with annoyance.
“Yeah,” you started putting the mug down on your desk, “You wanna go with me?” You asked not missing a beat. This way it was honoring your promise to your students while still feeling like a cool girl. Not a woman who was nervous about asking her coworker to the high school homecoming dance. And then if he said ‘no’ your feelings wouldn't be hurt cause you didn't put in any effort. No build up, no romanticism, just two friends talking.
He winced as if he was in physical pain. He ran his fingers back through his dark brown hair sighing heavily.
“Fine. I'll go with ya.” He responded flatly, folding his arms. Your brain had already processed a ‘No’. The hard pulse of your heart beating heavy in your chest, the dryness of your eyes as they widen when you realize, actually, what he had said.
“I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to.” You felt as if your heart was coming out of your throat. You swallowed hard hoping he would ignore your hint of ‘you-can-reconsider-your-decision’.
“Naw princess, I'm a man of my word. I'll go with you…ugh,” he shifted weight to his hip. “Just don't expect me to dance or nothin’.”
Princess?!
“Cool. Got it. You'll be a beautiful wallflower.” You chuckled, really still trying to play cool, sipping the water he got for you trying not to choke.
He can read you like a book.
He cleared his throat, “Mm, I don't think I'll compare to how pretty you'll prolly look.”
Is….is HE blushing???!! Wait…am I blushing?? Fuckfuckfuck.
You cleared your throat, looking back at the stack of papers in front of you. “Well, I'll leave it to ya. I hope you feel better, Ms. Y/N.”
You smiled to yourself as he was already walking away. “Thanks Mr. Howlett.”
——————
You were getting ready at the institute being that it was easier than going home, getting ready and then coming all the way back. You couldn’t believe that Logan was willing to go to the dance with you. You were pretty sure it was a pity agreement or something. You knew he didn’t really want to go but he agreed to go with you…why? You finished doing your makeup in the mirror, made cute faces, sexy faces, pouty faces and smiling faces at yourself, just to make sure you knew how you looked.
You brushed out your dress. It was a wine colored, A-line dress with a boat neck and short puffy lantern sleeves. A slit off to the side to show a little leg, but still modest. Your hair was down, with one side pinned back to keep out of your face. Your earrings were small dangles and sparkly to catch the light and a simple necklace for a clean look.
“You can do this!” You said placing both hands on the sink staring deeply at yourself in the mirror. “He's just a man… A mutant man, but a man nonetheless. You're just friends, nothing more. This isn't a date or anything. Just friendly co-workers going to chaperone a school dance that you both work at…”
Fuck I'm anxious. Maybe a little gummy to ease my nerves.
You dug into your tiny purse for that last 1:1 gummy that always got you in the best mood. Relaxed and not stressed…and maybe just a little bit high. But not that they would notice.
You walked out of the bathroom finally. You and Logan didn't really communicate about when and where you all would meet up or if you would just meet there. You wished there was alcohol served for the adults.
You checked your phone and didn't see any messages from him or calls. Let's be real, if he called you'd be hesitant to answer.
You finally had to admit it to yourself that you liked him. You were crushing on him hard as if you were a teen again. He was all you ever thought about, his blips in the teacher's lounge or when he would nod at you through the door made your heart swell.
Sometimes during your planning period you could hear him teaching. You had grown fond of listening to his voice. One particular time, your imagination had taken you through constant interactions, conversations, situations…some verged on dirty. You could hear him talking to you. His strong hands gripping your waist and pulling you close to him. His lips close to yours, as his one hand leaves your waist and cups your face. you're both taking shallow breaths with anticipation of the next move. Frozen in place, all you can do is watch him glide through air as his thumb caressed the apple of your cheek. It was almost like you were holding your breath in this fantasy as he pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss. His grip around your waist; possessive. Other thoughts, he had you bent over his desk as he took you from behind. His relentless thrusts into your tight, wet, pussy as you moaned his name and grasped at papers. You remembered gasping coming back to reality and uncrossing your legs and adjusting yourself in your chair. You heard him sniffing on the other side of the wall. You turned slightly looking at your chalkboard knowing he couldn't see you…but you felt like you could feel his intense gaze on you through the wall.
You found yourself standing outside his classroom now. Clutching on to your purse, you tried to imagine him teaching. Really trying to ignore the desk and papers that were neatly stacked upon it. His half-lidded hazel eyes on you, paired with a devilish smirk, papers flying everywhere.
“Oh, you're here.” His gravelly voice startled and pulled you from the depths of your imagination.
“Sorry we never discussed where to meet, but I had a feelin’ You'd be… here.” His pause made you notice his eyes flickered up and down. It made your cheeks flush and your heart flutter.
Taking in his attire, you were thoroughly impressed with how well he cleaned up; He looked so good. Black shoes, jeans, a leather belt, a white button up, and a brown corduroy blazer. The need to speak was needed, for you felt too much time had passed since the last word was said.
“No, I'm sorry. I should have expressed where-”
“You look beautiful.” He interjected softly. You could tell that doling compliments wasn’t his strongest suit but he did mean what he said.
You felt heat rise into your cheeks. “Ah, thank you, Mr. Howlett. You look great too…as always.”
”Please call me Logan tonight.“ he rasped, staring you down. His gaze never leaving yours. You felt your heart speed up in your chest, and a twinge in your interior.
He took a step closer to you, a gasp wanting to escape your lips, but didn’t. His lips parted, as the back of his hand tucked strands of your hair behind your ear. His calloused fingertips unraveled around your ear down to your jaw and making their way to your chin. Time seemed to have stopped for you. You could hear your rushed pulse vibrating in your ear. Your eyes darted back and forth between his. Your mouth parched, lips parted, and your breath caught in your lungs, as he caressed your face.
“Hey guys! The chaperones are gathering now to usher in students if you want to make your way over!” Scott yelled from the other end of the hallway. If anyone was going to ruin a moment it was always, always going to be Scott. Immediately, you took a step back, grounding yourself. The trance breaking. You could see the annoyance trickling across his face as he turned to face Scott.
“Yeah we’ll be headin’ over soon, Summers.” He yelled back over, still mentally fixed on you. Your own`` mind raced with thoughts of how you were going to restart this. You wanted him to kiss you, if…that's what he was trying to do.
He cleared his throat, holding his arm out for you to hold on to. “Shall we, doll?” His expression changed to a relaxed smile. His gruff exterior seemed to still be present to others, but when he was around you, he seemed relaxed. You placed your arm around his trying not to smile too hard. You didn’t want to lose your cool. His arms were strong as he held onto you. A part of you wanted your ankle to give out just so he could catch you, and then maybe he’d finished what he started before Scott interjected. But you couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t allow yourself to do that. A smile pulled at the corners of your lips, hoping he didn’t notice.
When you both walked into the cafeteria the Student Government Association had done such an excellent job decorating and preparing for this. They had streamers and iridescent decorations that seemed to sparkle as they hung from the ceiling. Towards the back there was a punch table which is where you and Logan headed over to. You took it upon yourself to monitor the punch table to ensure they didn’t run out of cups or none of the students spiked it.
As the doors opened and the students came in, your heart swelled seeing them all in their lovely clothes. To be young again, a sigh escaped your lips, thinking of the times when you were in the same situation as them. The heat of the dance floor, sometimes the heartbreak of seeing your crush dancing with another, the wallflowers, the anxiety of asking someone to dance with you. Honestly, you loved all the feelings. These kids were special. They dealt with a different type of prejudice, but at least in this moment, none of that mattered. Just having a good fun time with friends.
The music however had much to be desired. The kids were grinding on each other and kinda made you feel a touch uncomfortable, but it all looked safe and everyone looked like they were having fun. Logan came over by you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He took a swig of something out of the corner of your eye. Here you were again, heart racing from the thought of him touching you. He hadn’t touched you until today, but you never wanted him to stop. Taking a double take and noticing his flask, you quickly found yourself facing him,as if you were trying to block others from seeing what he was doing. Without consciously noticing, he hooked his arm around your waist pulling you ever so close to him. You moved with the gesture, not registering in your mind, as if you have done this before and it’s normal for the two of you to be so close. A lazy smile tugged at the corners of his lips while his heavy lidded eyes stayed on you. His brow arched as you spoke.
“Mr. Howlett!” You whispered, “Are you drinking alcohol?” A grin broke through upon his lips. “You’re one to talk doll.” He whispered right back. He got really close to your face, your heart beating almost out of your chest. He was so close, he smelled so nice you could feel yourself becoming a bit dizzy from the emotion of it all. Just when you thought he was going to kiss you, he whispered in your ear instead, his lips grazing the cartilage. “I know you ate a weed gummy. I can smell it on you.”
Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you leaned away from him, his grip still tight around you. “Look, I just needed something to keep this interesting.” He spoke, his face turning pink just slightly.
He could smell it on you? What else could he smell? Those gummies smelled like nothing. They were in leak proof bags. But…what “else” could he smell.
Your face flushed as your brows met. “You must've seen me eat one. You can't smell those.” He scoffed at your accusation wanting nothing more than to confess everything he can smell on you but he figured he'd explain later.
You looked around to note no other chaperone was near you. “What’s your poison?”
A sinful smirk danced across his lips again. “Whiskey…you want some?” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a rather large metal flask. Your face lit up and you nodded.
“Don’t tell anyone.” You pleaded as he handed you his flask and you took a quick swig. It burned your mouth and the back of your throat, but it also warmed your soul. You weren’t a whiskey drinker at all, but you wanted to be one if that meant you had something in common with him. You took another swig this time longer, quickly shoving it back in his coat, and straightening out his jacket. Pressing out his jacket made his aroma waft through your senses. The scent of whiskey, pine, cedar and tobacco filled your nostrils and made your head spin. You couldn't believe you were touching him, the corduroy of his jacket felt so nice against your fingertips. You stared at his shirt, seeing the ribs of the white tank he wore underneath it. You hadn’t noticed but his eyes were affixed to you; watching you touch him, watching you getting lost in your thoughts as he had seen you do before. He thoroughly enjoyed you touching him. He gently rolled your head up with his index and thumb on your chin “You think too much. Relax, darlin’”
Your face flushed now mostly from the alcohol. Not to mention your edible was starting to kick in.
“Ohhhhhohoho! Look at teach!” One of your students spoke out. Immediately you froze and broke his hold around you. You hadn't realized he was holding you close to him for you were lost in your own crude thoughts. Words escaped your brain as you worried what they might say, but then you thought who cares? You were only concerned about rumors that could swirl around the school. Your reputation meant everything to you. To prove that you belonged…That you deserved to be there.
You looked over at Logan, thanked him for the drink and focused your attention to the floor. Your gaze searching and making sure the students were ok and having fun. Your mind was elsewhere however. Dizzy, drunk from his touch, his scent, and your edible kicking in. You felt a twinge, a heat building up in your thighs. You exhaled and tried to regain composure. You glanced at the perimeter of the room, seeing the other chaperones enjoying their time, drinking the punch, talking and laughing.
Fully feeling your vices, you found yourself by the wall bouncing along to the music; bobbing your head while holding your drink in your hand. You looked around searching for Logan. Just a glance to see what he was up to. No luck. It made you pout. You were feeling your emotions building up inside of you like a volcano about to erupt. Finally a break in your thoughts shattered through when you heard that new pop song you loved. It was almost a 180 in you. You became excited and danced in place and sang along with the words. You raised that cup in the air and swayed your hips. It filled your heart to feel that beat in your body, even more so since you were under the influence.
Logan had stepped outside for a smoke break, and when he returned he saw you really enjoying yourself. It brought a smile to his lips. He walked up to you, hands in his pockets, relaxed. “You’re having fun.” He spoke with his gruff exterior held up and a smile. You turned to him still bouncing to the beat, “Ohmygod yes! I love this song.” Calming down just a bit, not wanting to seem childish or immature to him, you took a sip of your non-alcoholic punch. You finally admitted to yourself that you liked him. You really, really, liked him and you hoped that he returned your feelings. But being his friend was second best.
“Oh? Well, let’s take you out on the floor then.” He suggested holding his hand out for you to take. You stood there, a bit stunned and unsure. He read your face as if he could read your mind, “When a pretty girl asks you to a dance, you dance. I didn’t come here for nothin’” he added with a smirk. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute. It made you think everything over; replaying in your mind on fast forward. You placed your drink down, and took his hand.
His hand was rough, calloused and his grip was tight as if he didn’t, you’d float away. He pulled you close to him again, and in rom-com true fashion, the song changed. The lights slowed and were dimmed low. He looked up and sighed at the change. “Of course…” he muttered. However his ears pricked back when he heard the song Beautiful Things play. He wasn’t sure of the artist but he enjoyed it the few times he had heard it. His brow furrowed, not sure how to dance to this slow pop song. He was going to figure it out.
His arm still around your waist and the other still holding your hand. Gently he swayed you side to side. Neither of you spoke. Only being present in the moment. His gaze held yours and yours were fixed to his.
And I hold you every night
And that's a feeling I wanna get used to
But there's no man as terrified
As the man who stands to lose you
Your sways turned into a spin. When he pulled you back to him, your eyes met. Your eyes darted between his hazel eyes almost luring you even closer to him. He dropped your hand as both his hands wrapped around your waist and yours, made their way around his shoulders pulling you both into each other. That feeling returned to your lower body as you swallowed the dry lump that formed in your throat. Your heart raced even faster and given your proximity, you knew he could feel it.
Oh, I hope I don't lose you
Mm
The lights were sparkling around you, adding just an extra layer of magic. You rolled your lips, trying so hard not to pick the skin off your luscious berry tinted lips.
Please stay
He took a quick breath in, his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something. You tried to speak, to tell him everything, all the feels but you couldn’t find the courage to do so.
I want you, I need you, oh God
Don't take
“Can I kiss you?” He asked deep and low. Your eyes widened not expecting him to ask you anything let alone that. Words escaped you and all you could do was nod.
At that moment, the world seemed to standstill. You didn’t even care if any of your students saw you. You didn’t care if other teachers saw you. This moment, it was just you and Logan.
These beautiful things that I've got
The song seemed to come to a huge climax which only made your heart flutter as his hand held your chin up, his lips pressed on to yours. Fireworks seemed to go off in your brain. You closed your eyes just being in the moment. Feeling his warm lips against yours was everything you thought it would be. Your eyes rolled behind your eyelids as you took a deep inhale through your nose. Your hand draped around his neck, pulled him closer into you. Your hungry and needy return made a growl creep up from his broad chest. His tongue pushed his way into your desperate mouth as he watched through his lashes. You no longer thought about anything else. His intensity pushed your back a couple steps. Your free hand reaching behind you, trying to feel for the wall to brace yourself.
His lips dragged from yours down to your jaw, to your pulse point, to the nape of your neck; a trail of hot kisses behind them. His lips parted as he tasted your skin. A soft moan escaped your lips as you found yourself pulling his face from his new favorite spot. His eyes were filled with lustful thoughts. “…not here…” you spoke before his lips found yours again. Your fingers applied pressure along his temples, gliding through his hair. His hands now wandered down your hips, grabbing your ass. He pulled from your lips begrudgingly, only now comprehending your words. He placed his hand up against the wall near your flushed face, fighting his urges to keep going for the moment.
“Yeah, you’re right…” he huffed. There wasn’t much blood in his brain to think of a secluded place. You grabbed his hand and led him out of the cafeteria. Down a hallway in the direction of the classrooms; He was becoming impatient, irrational…feral. His need for you, growing uncontrollably. When you paused in your steps, he pulled you into the bathroom adjacent to you both. His mouth found yours as soon as that door opened. Locking it behind him, he quickly closed the gap between you and the corner of the sinks and a wall. His sultry gaze looked over you, enjoying the sight and sound of you on the other side. His hands wandered up your stomach, to your breasts. He palmed them, running the side of his thumb over your hard nipples through your bra. “…fuck…” he muttered through your lips.
Your hand fiddled with his belt, undoing it along with the zipper of his slacks. Your other hand ran down his clothed chest, feeling ever chiseled muscle. You freed his throbbing cock from the confinements of his boxer briefs, gently stroking the entire length.
Fuck, he’s big
He shuddered from your touch. His brows furrowed as you sped up only focusing with your fingertips, teasing the tip coated with pearled precum with your thumb. He moved your hand from him, picking your legs up with his arms pulling them around his waist, making you lean back for leverage up against the wall. His tip teasing the outside of your pussy through your already wet panties. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, holding on for security.
“Don’t worry baby, I got ‘cha.” He grunted out. His one hand snaked up the back of your dress. His eyes searched yours as he felt the zipper. He leaned in as his lips sat on top of yours almost to steal your breath away. “May I?”
“Yes, please…do it” you responded so deprived. Your hands cupped his bristled cheeks as you pulled him in for another hungry kiss. Another growl rumbled in his chest as his hand slowly pulled the zipper down. The sound echoed in your ear drums as his lips found your neck again, gently sinking his teeth into your neck.
“Ahh, fuck Logan!” You jolted knowing you were going to have a mark there later. A reminder that this was real. Not one of your fantasies. He pulled away for a moment, admiring his mark against your skin.
“Uh uh. I’m Mr. Howlett, remember?” His voice deep and doused with lust. He pulled your arms out of the sleeves of your dress, and pulled it down, freeing your breasts. “Fuck you’re beautiful.” He uttered, admiring you. His warm mouth encapsulated your nipple as his other hand found your clit. You threw your head back, your hips jolting. His wet tongue ran over your nipple as he sucked on it. His finger delicately ran small circles on your clit. Your breathing became more shallow, his name floating off your lips as a prayer.
He hummed, slipping your nipple from his lips, “Say it again” his tongue flicked over your other nipple as you gasped. Your head dizzy, your cheeks hot, you managed to speak, “Mr. Howlett….” You moaned softly. It seemed to stir something within him. Hearing you say his name like that, turned him on even more.
He could feel how soaked you were between your folds. His fingers slipped down to coat his fingers in your wetness. “God, I’ve been thinking about this.” He admits in the valley of your tits.
“Me too…for far too long.”
“I’ll buy you a new pair…” he responds, staring into your eyes. Confusion paints your face, suddenly you feel cold metal against your pelvis. A small blade came from his hand as you felt your panties becoming taut and then riiiiiiippp.
He looks into you again. At this point, you feel like you can read minds. His eyes searched yours to get confirmation that this was happening. You moistened your lips and held onto your bottom lip. He leaned his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. You both allowed gravity to assist. Effortlessly, you slid right on to him, taking him deep to the hilt. You hissed a curse as you felt yourself suck him in. He held you there for you to adjust to him. His head went to his new favorite spot as his hot breath tickled your neck. He gritted his teeth as he slowly thrusted into you. The tight, slick of your folds made his head spin. The scent of you and your arousal made him thrust a bit faster. Your whimpers and whines echoed in the warm lit space alongside the squelching and sounds of skin slapping against each other.
“Fuck…” he muttered, “You feel so fuckin’ good.”
You couldn’t explain the tightness that you were feeling in your lower abdomen, but you knew what it meant.
“Oooo, if you keep…doing that…fuck…” you panted; your chest rising and falling with every thrust trying not to be heard. But he wasn’t having it. You were going to be loud and you were going to cum. He slowed down his pace, edging himself and most likely you. From the base of his throbbing cock, inch by inch of his shaft pulled from you, covered in your juices, until the tip teased at your entrance again. Repeat.
He slowly pushed back into you, inch by inch of his veined shaft, until he could feel your ass on his balls. Logan could feel you clench around him.
“Doin’ what, baby?” His lips grazed the edge of your ear which only made the feeling in your pussy twinge. He chuckled, looking back into your eyes.
“Tell me,” he started, still slowly stroking you, making sure your clit was still being stimulated even if for a few moments of his pelvis hitting yours. The brisk air making it tingle. “There was a time, a few months ago…I was teachin’ and I could smell you. As if you were right there with me…” he held his position, deep in you; grinding his hips slowly. “What were you thinking about?”
You couldn’t think. Your eyes were closed as the back of your hand graced your face. You were completely lost in the amount of pleasure only wanting to focus on chasing your orgasm. Then it clicked. The memory flashed in your mind.
”You.” Whispering back into his ear. He looked in your eyes as a devilish smirk grew across his face. Full grin, he continued to slowly stroke you.
“What about me?”
You rolled your eyes, needing him to stop teasing you. No need to be shy now.
“You fucking me on your desk…bent over.” You managed to say. His pace sped up, his cock throbbing even more now. That thought almost sent him over the edge.
You couldn’t hold back anymore. His thrust were pushing you closer and closer to your own release. His length hitting the spongey spot. “Fuckfuckfuck…Imma…Imma” you mewled which only urged him to speed up even more. The twinge in your lower abdomen built up until you felt the electric shock travel throughout you. Logan groaned as his lips swallowed your moans. His thrusts became short and spaced out, quick bucks of his hips. You held on to him tighter as you moaned even louder knowing the twitch of his cock in you only meant one thing.
You both tried to catch your breath, panting like dogs in the summer heat. He held you close to him, still twitching inside of you.
“Fuck…I’m sorry” he murmured his voice raspy and dry.
Your eyes searched over his, wondering what he was apologizing for. Was he regretting this moment with you. Crossing the lines of being co-workers? Friends?
”You’re thinking too much.” He spoke again, studying the lines of your face. His eyes flickered down to where you both connected.
Your face flushed again, as you felt his seed drip from you. “Oh…that…that’s ok. Birth control ya know?” You said winking at him. His seemingly concerned face slowly turned into one of someone plotting something naughty. You seemed more in tune with him and his thoughts. Maybe he was allowing you to read him better.
He pulled your dress up to cover your beautiful breasts, as he carried you freely out of the bathroom and to his classroom. You held onto him, pressing your torso against his. “What are you doing?!”
“I need you darlin’” he stated pressing his lips against yours. Salt coated his face as strays of his hair tickled your forehead. His passion calmed a bit to a more tender love.
“What if someone sees us?” You asked as he gently placed you upon his desk. Finally pulling out of you, still hard, he covered the window in the door with black paper. You watched him move back towards you, as if he glided on ice, your heart beating a bit faster again. “No one is gonna see us.” He spun you around and gently pushed you over his desk. You squeaked, your heart racing even faster. He rolled your dress up to your hips, exposing your fat ass and soaked pussy. His seed still trickling out of you.
“Ohhh, shit.” He groaned taking in the sights and sounds. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He added.
Logan growled, sending a sharp sting through you. The slap on your ass reverberated through the classroom. You winced as your nails dug through the wood of his desk. You felt the ripple up to your back. The jiggle of your ass making you squirm and pulse.
You couldn’t see him, but you could feel the warmth of his tongue as he licked between your folds. “Ahh!” You mewled unsuspecting. Long, flat strokes of his tongue moved through you. His firm hands gripped you to spread you wide. As the tip of his tongue found your clit, your muscles tensed up. Your moans grew louder as he seemed to devour you.
“Mm, you taste so fucking sweet.” He hummed.
With every moan encouraged him to be more aggressive. His tongue darted into you and softly flicked against your other tight hole. “Fuck Logan…fuck me please..”you begged.
His eye twitched at the sound of your request. “Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you again, huh?” His smugness was oozing off of him. He loved hearing you beg for him and he was more than happy to oblige. He kissed your lower lips, a strand of saliva and your sweet juices trailing between them. He licked his lips, stood up and positioned himself at your entrance. “Say it again,” he asked, almost begging you for it.
“…please…fuck me again…Logan.”
A low growl rumbled in his chest. He stroked his length a couple times, while his other hand steadied your hips. He took the tip and pushed through your wet walls. As his other hand found your hip, he pressed back into you. He had more control like this than in the stall and it made him weak. His thrusts were tamed in the beginning, but he couldn’t fight off the primal urge in his body. He needed you.
His hips snapped back and forth as he claimed you as his. “Fuck princess, you feel fuckin’ fantastic.” His hazel eyes watched as he buried his cock deep into you, the sheen coating his dick making him move faster. With every thrust you moaned, your knees feeling weak as you held yourself up for him. Luckily, you were wearing heels. The lewd sound of skin on skin made it even more delectable.
“I need to see that pretty face.” He muttered, pulling out of you without warning, leaving you feeling empty. He flipped you over onto your back as you quickly hiked up your dress…and your legs. He pressed back into your dripping, needy pussy, throwing your legs over his shoulders.
Logan released a moan that took him by surprise. As you watched the man you had been pinning for so long grab hold of your thighs, it only made you tighten around him. You pulled your dress back down, exposing your breasts again as they bounced from his drive.
He lost himself in pleasure as his lips kissed your ankle. Your moans and your body moving only made him to take you deeper. He moved your legs from his shoulders and pushed them apart with his palms. Yes, this is how he wanted you. His pace sped up as he leaned over to kiss your lips. His tongue needing yours. Logan’s hands teased your nippled making sure you felt ultimate pleasure. He was determined to make you cum again.
You broke for the kiss needing air as your moans loudly traveled through the halls. You were a loud fuck and he loved it. As things crashed off his desk, papers fluttering down to the floor, his grunts louder than before and in sync with his speedy pulses in your velvet walls. You moaned again, your arms thrown around his neck, “…Logan, I’m so close…” you whimpered.
”I know…baby” he returned, chasing his own high again. His hand left your nipple to play with another sensitive mound in between your legs. You threw your head back as he rubbed your clit. Curses leaving your lips as your brows furrowed and your back arched.
“Cum for me…” his gravely voice demanded. He pressed himself so deep in you still playing with your clit. Your voice trembled and got higher pitched.
“Lo-lo-lo-loooo…” you squealed, the feeling that build up in your body finally release itself. You came hard, your back arched as he watched you convulse on the desk, squeezing him, only making him reach his own release. Sending pools of hot white cum in you again.
Nothing else mattered in this moment than the two of you. Out of breath as you tried to catch it, you started laughing. “Oh, my god…I can’t believe we did that.” He returned the sentiment, pulling out of you. He grabbed some paper towels from his desk, handed you some, and wiped only the tip off.
“But you don’t regret it, do you?” He asked, tossing it in the trash. His arms wrapped around your back, assisting you to sit up. Your eyes met his still in a trance from the previous engagement.
”What?! No!…that was the best lay I’ve had in years.” You responded, kissing him sweetly on his lips.
Logan looked down and chuckled. He grabbed your chin with his free hand, “I can be your only lay, from here on out.”
You smiled, still not trying to come across overly eager, “…Sure Mr. Howlett. I’d like that.”
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actually-safer-to-kiss · 1 year ago
Text
The Drafts
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Summary: Spencer confronts Reader about a breakup text he found in her Notes app
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Angst, Comfort?
Content warnings: Manipulation, lying, yelling, anger, ambiguous ending
Word count: 1.5k
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You check yourself out in the bathroom mirror. It’s date night, and it’s been long overdue since Spencer’s been called away to four states in the past two weeks. Despite the stress that already comes with that (and the current state of your relationship), the dress he got you makes up for it, and helps you think about how lucky you are in more ways than one. It fits you just right without trapping you in the fabric. Even the fluorescent lights in his bathroom can’t make you look bad. “Spencer!” You call out, zhuzhing your hair again before leaving. No response, but you flick the switch off before saying, “I’m ready whenever you are!”
Still nothing. Not surprising. It’s rare when Spencer isn’t lost in his own mind. You’ve learned not to ask every time this happens because it often leads to theoretical explanations that go over your head within seconds. On rare occasions, he’s discovered a plot hole in one of the older Dr. Who episodes (which also go over your head).
This is a different time though. Because when you turn the corner to the bedroom, Spencer isn't hunched over his desk or scribbling incoherence on his whiteboard (yes, he has a whiteboard in his bedroom and has refused to move it for reasons unexplained). Instead, he’s pacing the small area between the wall and the foot of his bed. He’s hunched over the phone. Your phone.
You try to bite back the instant frustration as his bare feet smack the floor. “Spencer,” you monitor your tone. “Are you ready?”
“You’re breaking up with me?” That is all he asks when he finally stops to look up at you. He’s not exactly emotional, but he’s definitely holding back.
Red hotly spreads across your cheeks. “What?”
He points and his eyebrows rise like he’s found evidence at a crime scene. “Flushed face.”
“Spencer, we’ve talked about —”
“Likely a sign of embarrassment from being exposed.” He turns the phone screen to face you; paragraphs of text and broken sentences from previous editing attempts. Arguably, not your finest work.
Your mouth is agape, and it is hard to fight the instinct to close it upon suspicion of further guilt. You bet he’ll assume surprise. “I thought we talked about you not looking through my phone.”
“Because you didn’t want me to see this?” He gestures back at it as if it’s not obvious. Sadness is already breaking some barriers, starting with his voice, but he’s trying to maintain a smug demeanor. Even in potential agony, Spencer can still get a high from being right.
You grunted. It was involuntary but honest. It came out of your throat like steam, as the anger in your core is already overflowing into the rest of your body. It bursts again when you snatch the phone out of his hands. He doesn’t flinch, damn him. You scroll up and down on the app incoherently, reminding yourself of the words he’s read and memorized. You think of how they’ll haunt you, how he’ll haunt you with them. “I can’t believe you went through my phone again.”
“I can’t believe you’re not even trying to fix this," he says. “I-I understand that things aren’t the most ideal right now, but we could’ve made time to talk about it.”
“What? Like not going through my phone? Look at how that worked out.”
“I know you’ve been acting differently. No kisses goodbye every day, spacing out at dinners with my coworkers, and a slew of other things.”
“Oh, are they written down on yours? I'd love to read them.”
Spencer shakes his head, letting his eidetic memory speak for itself there. “I’m a profiler, Y/N. And I can’t deny facts.”
The grunt before was delicate compared to the noise you make now. What the noise was is unknown, but terrifying. It wipes Spencer's smirk clean off. “Yes! You’re a profiler! I’m reminded of that every single goddamn day because every move I make near you is analyzed under a microscope!” You resist throwing your phone on the bed; partly out of fear of where it will bounce to, and partly Spencer snatching it up again. Instead, you tap the screen, exiting the Notes app and navigating to your texts. You press the latest contact, Garcia. Then you stay there, knowing Spencer will see the screen brightness show slightly on your face. “You didn’t read my texts, did you?”
Spencer doesn’t say anything. Your eyes dart towards him, and you can tell he wonders what cruel piece of evidence he missed.
“Yeah. Cause if you did, you would’ve known I was writing a breakup text for someone else. But you didn’t. So once again, you’ve snooped and gone out of your way to hurt your own feelings for no reason.”
The look on Spencer’s face. No matter how angry you get, how wrong he is, the sullen puppy dog look this man can pull off with his eyes alone is a weapon. It always makes him look pitiful.
And it makes lying to him even more painful.
“Spencer.” You say with a sigh.
“Who’s it for?”
You throw your head back. “Why is that your business?”
Spencer’s interrogation tactics often get in the way of the fact that he’s not facing a criminal, but his girlfriend. His girlfriend whose privacy he violated with no warrant presented to you. But when Spencer is on a case, he fails to differentiate between the two. You’ve practically heard him making mental notes when your behavior is even slightly off. Even when they have nothing to do with him. But he’s always quick to assume they are as he’s either leaving for work or being called away before discussions can occur. Spencer is a profiler, yes, but all profilers can let their emotions get the better of them.
You show Spencer your wrists. Gold bracelets clang together instead of silver cuffs. “What’s the goal here, Dr. Reid?”
He paces the floor again, briefly, before settling on the bed corner. He’s still looking at the floor, thinking, but you can tell his thought process has slowed down thanks to your (alleged) evidence. "Something must be wrong." He whispers. It’s pathetic. “You used to tell me everything.”
“And you used to not look through my things.” You’d hate to admit that you’re shaking too, but not from sadness. You stay standing, and put your phone on the dresser next to you. Face down. You cross your arms. “Things can change. Actions have consequences.”
He exhales briefly through his nose. He looks up, his eyes already shifting to a pinkish hue. “So it’s your turn to lecture me because —”
“Because my boyfriend is profiling off the clock again? Yes. Because he’s interrogating me and questioning my intentions when he’s supposed to be getting ready for date night? A date night he insisted upon because he’s been working overtime and profiling on a jet for the entire month? Yes.”
The anger. The intensity of it all pierced your blood long before. It coiled around your vocal cords while making your point. You had plenty more to say. A slideshow would’ve been worthy of listing Spencer’s actions over the last three months alone. Except the strain is hard, and clearing your throat doesn’t help. So you stand there, looking down at the miserable man you loved once. You pretend the silence is intentional, you let it speak for itself. 
And by some miracle (or perhaps the predicted luck of your dress), it worked. After wiping the budding tears from his eyes, Spencer studies you from curled hair to strappy heels. You know a stray movement will ignite a thousand rebuttals. You preferred dinner, so you maintain your statue-like stillness by raising only your eyebrows.
Spencer swallows. “I’m sorry.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I should’ve…” He nods while clamping his lips closed. “Yeah, I should have talked to you first. I’m so sorry.”
You exhale. It could be the relief of moving again. Or the fact that you can’t help but comfort the sad man who is still technically your boyfriend. You take his hand and pull him off the bed and allow him to rest his head on your shoulder while holding your waist. His palms are flat on your back as his chest heaves and caves. Your arms are around his neck, and you comfort him with soft hushes. Meanwhile, adrenaline depletion is already beckoning your eyes to close. But you stare at the wall.
You’re so tired. You’ve been tired. Decaying is perhaps the best word for all of this. Nevertheless, you hold Spencer tightly to let him know you’re there. It's all the strength you have. The strength to end things though is of a different caliber than you thought you could fathom. You can collect enough to rip off the world's most difficult bandaid, eventually. But Spencer Reid with a theoretical broken heart is already painful enough to witness. He needs you right now. And right now, you'll be there for him.
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Thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins and her discord for helping me with fleshing out this story 🩵
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