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pretty-little-mind33 · 28 days ago

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Tangerine x stripper fem!reader

Mini-series summary: When Tangerine opened an underground strip-club to cover for his murder-for-hire business operation, he wasn't expecting to become so easily distracted by one girl in particular.

Chapter summary: Accidentally walking into something you shouldn't have causes you to learn about Tangerine's real business, effectively creating a rift between you and him (4.8k) + epilogue (1.6k)

Warnings: blood, violence, slut shaming, murder, drugs, alcohol, guns, illusions to sexual assault and mentions of death but nothing happens, still a happy ending!

credit : @little-miss-dilf-lover 🤍🤍 thank you endlessly!

BAD FOR BUSINESS MASTERLIST

You're sitting on Tangerine's desk during your break. He's working on his laptop, listening to you blabber with intention, only half focused on his work. Instead, his focus is drawn to the way you cross your legs, the baby-blue babydoll dress you're wearing tonight hugs your curves and that bow in your hair is making him lose focus.

You've barely touched your yogurt and Tangerine flips a page, interrupting you: "You should eat, love." He reminds you and you nod, taking another spoonful.

"And then Nicola told him to fuck off," you continue, through your mouthful, "which was hilarious. You should have seen his face! Scummy bastard! Annette and I were laughing so hard," you laugh at your own story. Tangerine seems a little less amused.

"Is Nicola okay? Customers should not be making comments like that."

You smile a little, placing your yogurt on his desk and leaning closer to him. One of your heels rests on his chair now, your hand playing with his hair. "She's fine, babe, you know we can take care of ourselves."

Tangerine looks up now, his gaze stern. "Yeah, I know," he says and then sighs, "I just worry."

"I know," you laugh and kiss his cheek. You sit up and jab your spoon into your yogurt again. "Honestly, I don't even know why you do this job. You hate anything to do with this business."

Tangerine is quiet. He turns to his laptop again, your words sinking in. If only you knew, he thinks.

"I don't hate you," he says softly, almost embarrassed. He feels shitty. He wishes he could tell you the truth about what this is, and he wishes he could officially ask you to be his girl. He wishes for a lot of things he can't fulfill.

Not now.

You smile, opening your mouth to say something else, when the door suddenly swings open. Startled, you stand up and adjust your little dress, suddenly self-conscious at being caught in your boss's office during your break. No one usually comes in, especially unannounced.

Tangerine stands as well, discreetly putting himself in front of you as a tall, lanky man dressed in a grey suit walks in. His hair is jet black and he has rectangular glasses perched on his nose that hide a dark pair of eyes. He looks a little older than Tangerine, maybe mid-thirties, and he pauses when he sees you.

"Fucking our employees now, Tangerine," the man smirks. You recognize him as the other boss. He's barely around anymore, but you remember meeting him on your first week.

Unlike Tangerine, this man has always make your stomach feel queasy.

You tense a little and grab your yogurt from the desk you now realize Tangerine most likely shares with this man. Tangerine looks even tenser than you are and he turns to you, sending you a look that you read as "Go. Please."

You nod, quickly walking to the door and down the stairs. Tangerine relaxes a little once you're out the door but he continues to glare at Leo.

"No one is fucking anyone," he says as calmly as he can.

"In that suit, I'm not surprised you can't get a girl like her," Leo whistles, dropping his briefcase as he hangs his coat. "Which one was that already? Candy? Diamond? She's smoking hot."

Tangerine holds his tongue. He doesn't want Leo to know of his feelings for you so he just corrects him. "Angel. You should really know our employees' stage names by now."

Leo rolls his eyes as he walks over, picking up a folder. "They're strippers. Who cares?" He reads over the documents and then looks up at Tangerine. "Thanks for taking over when I was away, mate, why don't you go take a break, hm?"

Tangerine's jaw clenches. He hates how Leo thinks he can boss him around when he's always the one doing the work. He hesitates for a moment. Usually, he isn't afraid to call Leo out on his bullshit but he has more important things to worry about than his ego. He wants to check on you.

He didn't even get to kiss you goodbye.

"Oi, T," Leo calls just as Tangerine walks out the door. Tangerine groans and peeks his head back into the room, an annoyed look on his face. "Meeting tonight, remember?" Leo's words ring in Tangerine's ears and his expression falters for a moment.

He'd completely forgotten.

"Ya, I remember," he says roughly, his voice strained as he ignores the impending doom he feels in his stomach as he turns to rush down the stairs to find you.

* * *

You slip on your mary-janes, grab your woolen coat, and hurry out the door. It's late and you're the last girl here. You've been having this awful habit of daydreaming lately, your stomach filled with butterflies as you remember Tangerine's lips on yours, his hands caressing your skin. You shake the thoughts, turning to lock the backroom with the spare keys you have.

You hum, thinking back to the words Tangerine had whispered in your ear when he'd found you after you'd hurried from his office. You make me happy. You feel your cheeks warm as you remember the quick kiss he'd given you in the dark corner near the bathroom and how stupid it is that he manages to make that sketchy corner into something so romantic.

You'd usually leave from the backdoor, but tonight you decide to walk through the lounge in case Tangerine hasn't gone home yet. Sometimes, he waits for you without even needing to be asked. However, this time, the lounge is empty.

You look up, seeing that the blinds to Tangerine's office are shut but that the light is on. You can see faint movement behind the blinds and the movements pique your interest.

Is Tangerine working late?

It hadn't even crossed your mind to remember Leo's arrival just a few hours earlier.

You walk up the stairs, holding your bag over your shoulder. You can hear hushed voices; multiple male voices you don't recognize and your stomach flips with nerves. You know you should turn around, you really should, but you don't.

You're too curious.

The office door isn't fully closed and without thinking, you gently push on it with your open palm, freezing when you peer inside. There are four men in the room; all of them are large and scary with various guns displayed on their bodies. They're laughing obnoxiously, discussing something about a latest kill.

You bite the inside of your cheek, scanning the room as you listen in. You see Tangerine and Leo in the center, leaning over the desk as they look at what appears to be plans of some sort. More guns lay on the desk and the entire room smells like smaok and drugs.

"40 million quid for three men dead, easy," one man laughs, flicking his cigar into the ashtray.

Leo chuckles, clapping Tangerine on the back. "What do you say, mate? Sounds like a good one, hm?"

Tangerine nods, still looking over the plan, his eyebrows pinched. "I suppose three kills is simple."

You're frozen in shock. Kills? 40 million? Your mind can't seem to wrap your head around what's happening. You look at Tangerine and for the first time in weeks, you don't recognize the man you're looking at. You back up, holding your breath.

You need to get out of here.

"Bloody hell, who do we have here?" A man's hoarse voice echoes around the room and suddenly, his hand is wrapping around your arm and dragging you inside.

Your bag falls to the ground. You let out a gasp, squirming in the man's grip but he holds you still. He's much taller than you and much stronger. He smells like alcohol and you can see the gun on his hip and you hold your breath in fear.

The men whistle at your entrance, laughing amongst themselves. The only man who isn't finding this amusing is Tangerine; he's tense, his dark blue eyes locked with yours as he wears an expression you can't read, but his chest is rising and falling rapidly.

"Oh, look who it is, it's Angel again," Leo barks a cruel laugh, sauntering around the desk as he approaches you slowly. His hand raises and he caresses your cheek with his knuckles. You wince, pulling away from his touch as if he's burning you and Leo pouts, faking pity.

"This one of yer strippers?" a man asks. He's much older than the others, his hair whitening, and he's grinning at you like one of your customers would.

Leo nods, wrapping his hand in your hair to keep you from squirming again. "Yup," he pops the "p" and grins, "Isn't she just a prize? Tangerine sure knows how to pick 'em."

Tears brim in your eyes at the implication. What had he told them? You look at him, watching him just stand there. He hasn't moved or said a word.

You're shaking now, terrified at being trapped in this situation. You aren't usually helpless but they're outnumbering you, and they have guns.

Leo pulls on your hair a little, making you gasp in pain again. The other man wraps his arm around your waist, grinning.

"You shouldn't have wandered in here, little mouse," Leo whispers. He smiles when he sees the tears on your cheeks. "Because you know what this means, hm? Can't have you scurrying off and snitching on us—"

Your eyes widen and you squirm harder. "No-no-no please, I won't tell anyone! Please. Tangerine!" You sob, angling yourself towards Tangerine as you try and yank yourself out of the man's grip.

The other men look towards him. "Ya close with the stripper?" One snarls, his smirk evident.

Leo keeps his hand in your hair, pulling on it to shut you up. You muffle your sobbing in fear of angering them anymore. Tangerine doesn't speak, his gaze intense, and the men take that as a no. Leo turns to you again and laughs. "Such a shame. She's so pretty. She must bring us a lot of money."

"Can I have a turn with her before we kill her?" The man holding your waist asks, earning some raucous laughter and agreement from the others and you feel defeated. You keep looking at Tangerine, pleading with your eyes as you cry softly.

Leo untangles his hand from your hair and nods. "Sure, have your fun, boys. I don't fuck used goods," he laughs cruelly and embarrassment washes over you. "Now, where were we?" He looks at the plans again, clearly disinterested in what's happening to you.

The man holding you slides his hand up your stomach but before he can touch you more intimately, Tangerine's voice interrupts; "No," he says plainly. You sniff, struggling weakly now as it hurts to move in the men's arms. You watch him take his gun and slide it into the waistband of his trousers behind him. Leo looks up, confused.

"My turn," Tangerine says, walking over and snapping his fingers. The men release you, making it clear Tangerine has authority. Your stomach sinks. Why hadn't he helped you then? You glance between him and Leo, not completelyunderstanding the dynamic, but as soon as you're not being held, you make a run for it.

You don't get very far because Tangerine grabs you and holds you close to him. You cry, hitting him as you scream and thrash against his body.

"Let me go! Please! Please!" Your head is spinning and everything begins to hurt. You can smell his cologne, a smell that was so familiar and reassuring now feels tainted and wrong. When he wraps his hand around your mouth, you gasp for air and dig your nails into his wrist, drawing blood. He hisses in pain but only tightens his hold on you.

"Shut up," he growls in your ear. You can hear his heart thumping in his chest and you begin to calm down so that you can breathe properly.

The other men watch in amusement. "Feisty little mouse," one exclaims. They all laugh.

"I'll take care of her," Tangerine says hoarsely, breathing heavily, still holding you so you don't move and the more he speaks, the harder you want to cry, "This little slut has been teasing me for weeks. She owes me," he pauses, and his voice is a little shaky, "and then I'll get rid of her."

The other men seem disappointed but Leo smirks, "No funny business, hm?"

Tangerine nods, his voice steady. "No. I'll be back in an hour."

The men all laugh and whistle and Tangerine presses his lips to your ear. "Don't scream when I move my hand, okay? Please." He whispers the last part for only you to hear and your chest tightens. Your vision is blurred with tears but when he removes his hand, you find yourself obeying him.

Some desperate part of is still hoping he'll save you.

He's rough as he yanks you with him down the stairs. Dread fills you and you start crying again, trying desperately to run in the opposite direction. Tangerine doesn't reprimand you for the noise as he pulls out outside and into a small alley near the bulging, the door slamming shut behind you. You're not screaming anymore, only crying.

"Please don't hurt me," you sob, trembling as he pushes you against the brick wall. "Please," you plead with him. Tangerine doesn't answer but his gaze is dark. He reaches behind him and grabs his gun, unlocking it. You break down in tears, your hands shaking.

You squeeze your eyes shut, expecting him to press the barrel to your head, but instead, you feel his familiar warmth as he rests both hands against the wall near your head, and his forehead hovers over yours as he inhales shakily. You hiccup, still very obviously terrified.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his hands curling into fists on the wall. "I'm so sorry."

You choke on a sob.

Tangerine pulls away, his hand hovering over your cheek as if he wants to wipe your tears away but instead, he drops it to his side and looks into your eyes. "Run. Go home," he pauses and you can see that his own eyes look glossy with tears. "Don't come back. Please. Stay away. I'm so fuckin' sorry, angel," he says.

Your voice is caught in your throat.

"I love you," he continues and you just stare at him. You're unable to move. You don't know how to process any of this information.

Tangerine panics and slams his hand on the wall. "Go! Now!" he screams and you gasp, tears falling down your cheeks as you push past him and run down the dark street, not even knowing where you're running to and you don't look back. You feel queasy and you can't wrap your head around what just happened as the scene replays in your head.

Isn't she just a prize? Tangerine sure knows how to pick 'em.

I don't fuck used goods.

Don't come back. Please. Stay away. I'm so fuckin' sorry, angel.

I love you.

Back in the alley, Tangerine punches into the brick wall with a quiet shout.

* * *

Tangerine slams the door to his apartment, cursing loudly as he throws off his blazer. His eyes are bloodshot and he sniffles, sinking into his favorite armchair and holding his head in his hands. Tangerine doesn't cry. He hasn't cried in years, but for the first time, he can't help himself.

"What happened?" Lemon yawns, clearly having been woken up by the door slamming. When he sees the state his brother is in he pauses, his expression twisting. He stands in front of the armchair, unsure how to deal with this.

"T," he begins.

"She walked in on us," Tangerine states, his voice trembling. He fists his hair in his hands, clearly frustrated. "Y/n. She heard everything and they– they– scared 'er. They hurt 'er and I- just stood there and did absolutely fuckin' nothing!"

Lemon is quiet as Tangerine stands and begins to pace the living room. He doesn't know how to help. "Tangerine," he tries again, walking closer, "It's okay. You couldn't have done anything– not with Leo and the others in the room—she'll understand—"

"Understand?" Tangerine spits, his anger only directed at himself, "She can't come back to work, because of this. I had to make the think I- I- killed her. God, Lemon, I can never see her again. I ruined everything. But, I couldn't hurt her. I could never hurt her. I- she– she might call the cops on us—"

Lemon grips his nape, holding him still. "Y/n wouldn't tell anyone."

Tangerine stares into his brother's eyes. "She would have every right to, Lemon. And that's not the point, I— They– fuck–"

He breaks down, remembering your scared expression and how he had done nothing, and leans his head on Lemon's shoulder. "I ruined the only good fuckin' thing I had going for me. I really fucked up."

Lemon just holds him, not sure what to do or say to make this better.

* * *

You've been spending the last four days in bed, crying your heart out. You've shut your phone off. You've been ignoring all the worried texts and calls from your friends, missing all your uni classes and of course, missing your job.

Don't come back.

Tangerine's words ring in your ears and you press a pillow against them, curling up in a ball. You've been feeling sick since the encounter, remembering the men and their words and the implications of their words. The way they looked, the way they talked, how they tried to touch you.

Tangerine was a criminal, they'd been preparing a kill. He kills people. You can't seem to wrap your head around it. Sure, he was always a little cold and he seemed extra gentle with you as if he was making up for something, but you would have never imagined this.

You sob harder into your pillow, your heart breaking.

A few hours later, you're in your kitchen when you hear the knock on your door and you pause. Your heart leaps. You're in an old, paint-stained shirt, and some worn-out sleep shorts. You hear the knock again and pause again. This time, you hurry across the floorboards and peek through the peephole. Your breath hitches in your throat and you frown.

You unlock the old latch from your old apartment door and open it. "Hello?"

Lemon tilts his head, catching your eye, "Hey," he says sheepishly, holding up a box that you assume contains a pastry. "Can I come in?"

You hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Lemon wasn't in the room that night. He might not be involved. You know that's probably bullshit but curiosity gets the better of you again.

Plus, he has food and you're starving.

You open the door and let him in, holding out your hand for the pastry. Lemon smiles and hands it to you. He motions to the dining room and you nod. He follows you and you grab a fork silently, sitting down at your small table and opening the box.

You read the label; it's from your favorite bakery. The one you'd taken Tangerine to one weekend, on one of the outings you'd never outwardly said was a date. Inside is a chocolate croissant, your favorite, and your stomach twists.

You look up at Lemon who sat down in the chair opposite yours and he sends you a small smile. "He sent you, didn't he?"

Lemon nods. "He didn't think you'd want to see him."

You fiddle nervously with the box. "I don't want to see him," you say, your voice shaking a little.

Lemon nods again, clicking his tongue and looking down. "Listen, I know you're scared but my brother isn't a bad guy. He isn't. And he cares for you. A lot."

Tangerine's three-word confession rings in your ears and you can't deny the truth in Lemon's words. Still, you don't succumb that easily as your eyebrows crinkle.

"If he cares for me, as you say, he would have spoken up for me in that room."

Lemon sighs, "It isn't that simple. Tangerine and Leo–they have a complicated history and it would have been even more dangerous to speak out in a room full of—"

"Criminals," you finish for him, nodding. You close the pastry box, staring at Lemon with a hard expression. "You weren't there, Lemon. You can't understand how scary it was to be surrounded by a bunch of dangerous men, realizing you can't even trust the one man you thought you could."

Lemon listens, his gaze stuck on yours.

"Frankly, I don't think even think he meant it when he told me he loves me—"

Lemon's face twists and he shakes his head, clearly confused. "He told you he loves you?"

You pause, fiddling with the box again. "Yeah he did but—"

"No—no, my– my brother, he doesn't just say that to anyone. He doesn't say it if he doesn't mean it," Lemon says and you become quiet, hearing the solemn and serious tone in his voice, "And I know he fucked up, but now i really fuckin' think you should hear him out. He's outside, by his car. You should talk to him. And if you never want to see either of us again after, I promise we'll leave you alone. I promise, Y/n."

You ponder his words, looking up at him. Some part of you wants to ignore the knowledge that Tangerine is downstairs, waiting for you. You want to push him away, tell Lemon to fuck off and to never think about them again, but that's impossible.

I love you.

Tangerine's words are engraved in your memory. You can still feel his lips on your skin, the way he touches you with care, the way he looks at you like you're the only thing that matters. Your heart warms, just remembering how sweet he was.

And then you remember his hand covering your mouth, his harsh words, and your stomach drops.

You take a breath, grounding yourself. You don't know what to do, but some twisted fucked up part of you knows that if you don't go down and at least talk to him, you'll regret it forever.

"Okay," you say seriously and stand, walking into the living room and grabbing a hoodie. "One chance," you add, grabbing your keys. You lock your door behind you and then walk down the stairs behind Lemon.

Once the outside air hits your skin, you pause. Tangerine is standing by the car, just like Lemon said, and when he hears the door open he turns expectantly.

"What did she—" his voice falters when he sees you behind his brother. "Oh."

You're silent as you keep a distance from him. Lemon senses the tension and clears his throat. He excuses himself and turns to take a walk. Tangerine watches him leave, half hoping he'd stay. He turns to you again and shame contorts his expression. He walks forward only to have you back up against the building.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Tangerine whispers, his voice quivering.

You glare at him, tightening your arms around you. The noise of the city fades into the background as you process his words. You shake your head, your voice is strained and you hope he can't tell you might burst into tears at any moment.

"How can I believe you? You lied."

Tangerine shakes his head. "I never lied to you."

"Well, you kept something from me! Something big!" you argue, your sadness turning into anger and when he walks forward again, you meet him and stab your hand in his chest, "Don't pretend you didn't have any opportunities to tell me! And don't pretend you didn't think I would have liked to know this is who my boyfriend really is!"

Tangerine blinks, his tongue skimming over his lips at the word boyfriend.

You stutter, "Potential boyfriend. Someone I was seeing—"

"I know," he interrupts you, running a hand in his hair. "I know I should have told you. I should have warned you before I started to become involved with you, okay? But can you blame me?"

"Well no," you interrupt and roll your eyes, "if I was a killer I wouldn't want anyone to know—"

Tangerine shakes his head, his gaze hard. "Y/n. It was never about me. I couldn't care less what happened to me. I mean, sure, it would hav' sucked and it will if you do tell anyone, but I truly don't care what happens to me—" his voice sounds stern again and your eyes are locked on his as you listen.

He walks closer and this time, you don't move. "I only cared for you. I care for you. I stayed awake at night dreading the very scenario that fuckin' happened. Imagining you looking at me the way you are now; with fear. Imagining worse— and it tore me up, darlin'."

You soak in his words, swallowing a lump in your throat. "Then why didn't you stop them? Why pretend to want to hurt me if you love me so much—" The word love falls from your lips and Tangerine's expression visibly tenses. Still, he tries to explain.

"Love, I had no choice," he says softly, "I was frozen in shock and I couldn't go against everyone in that room. You don't realize how worse that would have made the situation. I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more."

You shake your head, your voice low because of the morning crowd in the street, and add, "No. You had a choice. You always have a choice. You chose to just stand there and then pretend to want to hurt me? Do you realize how fucked up that is?"

Tangerine's jaw tenses and he holds out his hand as if he wants to caress your cheek but he pauses, frowning. He drops his arm.

"You're right. I did make a choice," he admits after a moment, reflecting on your words, "and I did what I thought was my best option in the worst possible situation. I'm really sorry I wasn't what you needed at that moment, and darlin', if I could go back, I'd do anything to prevent you from walking into that room—anything to keep you safe—but I was trying to protect you, even if you can't see it—"

He pauses and you glance at his lips, your gaze flickering to his eyes once more. "And you don't have to forgive me. You can even keep being angry with me. I can live with anger, but I'm here because I don't want there to be a single part of you that thinks I didn't care for you. That I don't care for you, because I do. I just- I want you to know how much I care. How I would never hurt you like they wanted to. Never. I- I adore you, everything about you; how you drive me absolutely mad when you're away and how you involuntarily draw me in with your laughter whenever you're around—

And I'm a smitten fool to think I ever deserved you," Tangerine continues and his voice becomes softer, "I just, please know that my feelings for you are very real. Please know that hurting you like this was the last thing I ever wanted and it will haunt me forever because I love you. I love you so damn much it hurts."

There is that word again and you pause, heart beating as you listen to him. You find yourself leaning into him and you can clearly see tears in his eyes, threatening to spill at every word. They mirror your own and yet you can't find the words to answer him.

At least not until he sighs and turns to leave, and your chest tightens;

"No wait," you gasp instinctively, grabbing his wrist so he turns around. When he does, you wrap your arms around his neck, practically throwing yourself into his arms.

Tangerine's arms tighten across your middle, burying his face in your shoulder as he lets out a shaky breath. "Angel," he whispers as you tighten your hold on him too.

"I don't forgive you, not completely, not yet," you admit breathlessly, but hold onto him anyways. "But you promise you love me?" You ask in his ear, sounding insecure. "You promise you'll keep me safe? Promise it. Please."

"I fuckin' promise," he says instantly with no hesitation, as he strokes a hand down your hair to soothe you. "I love you. I promise I mean this."

You nod, taking a moment to pause and inhale his cologne. Your mind fills with words from his apology, words that don't feel like empty promises, and instead of the memories from that night, all you feel is safe again.

You pull away and look at him seriously. "And no more pretending you don't want me to be yours, okay? No holding back this time, not now that I know—"

Tangerine nods, his warm hand cupping your cheek, "No more pretending. You're mine. My girl. If you'd still like to be? If you'll have me?"

You crack a small smile, nodding, "I would like that," you say wearily, still holding back those three little words.

Tangerine understands and doesn't press you. His heart beams, threatening to leap at you as if offering himself. He drops his arms, tightens his hands on your hips, he pulls you in and he presses his lips to yours.

It's delicate and loving and he's taking his time, savoring you. You relax in his arms, cupping his cheek. You can't help but smile against his lips, which causes the same smile from Tangerine and you laugh as he rests his forehead on yours.

"I love you," he whispers again and deep down, you know he truly means it.

FIN ♡

Epilogue - 6 months later

It took a while for your relationship with Tangerine to return to normal. In fact, it took a while for anything to feel normal again. You'd lost your job, having to lay low for three months or so because Tangerine needed Leo to keep thinking you were dead. But he had promised it was going to be easy and over with. He was the one who had records—your real name—Leo didn't, he never did. Tangerine promised there was no way that bastard could reach you. That he wouldn't let him.

"He's not very bright," Lemon had promised you, not hiding his disdain for the man.

And you chose to believe them.

It had taken a few months to fully digest Tangerine's career. He's tried to explain the best he could that it wasn't fun for him. That is was his work and he was good at his job. He was good at taking down bastards who deserved it, for one reason or another.

"Think of it like a more illegal version of your future job—executing bastards who deserve it," Tangerine had said nonchalantly.

"A fucked up illegal version," you retorted, sending him a dirty look and Tangerine shrugs, holding your hand and squeezing.

It definitely took a while but eventually, you came to terms with his profession.

Because you'd lost your income, Tangerine had also promised to take care of you until you finished your studies. You ended up staying with him and Lemon after the first two months, and luckily the commute to the university from his apartment was far less distance than from yours.

And anyways, living with Lemon and Tangerine was proving more entertaining than you'd expected.

"Who hid my toothbrush?!" Lemon grumbles one evening, storming into the kitchen where Tangerine is making his famous pasta sauce. You're reading him your essay and pause, looking up from your laptop.

"You need it now? We haven't had dinner," you say, glancing at Tangerine with a small smirk as he cuts up some tomatoes.

Tangerine just rolls his eyes, ignoring his brother as he focuses on not chopping up his fingers. "No one hid your toothbrush, Lemon. We're fuckin' adults, not children," he says and glances at you, reaching over and tapping his finger on the counter near your laptop, "Wanna continue, my love? I'm really liking this one."

You laugh, looking at him with a cheeky grin. "Yeah, I bet you do, babe. It's on organized crime," you turn to look at Lemon, who seems a little less distressed over his toothbrush and now more invested in the conversation as he leans on the counter.

You turn back to Tangerine as he pours the tomatoes into a pan. "Y'know, if I end up working as a lawyer and you got caught for being some criminal mastermind, I could prosecute you."

Lemon barks a laugh, "Oi, don't jinx him!"

You frown, shaking your head. "I'm not! I'm just saying!"

Tangerine comes up and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Or you could represent me. Y'know, be my lawyer," he says and winks.

"How romantic," Lemon teases and walks over to read your essay over your shoulder. "This shit seems complicated as fuck."

"It is," you say and chew on your pencil as you read the notes you have next to your laptop.

"My smart girl," Tangerine hums, stirring the sauce now as he wipes his hand on his apron. Lemon smirks at him and walks behind him, ruffling his hair a little just to tease him for being such a softie for you. Tangerine pushes him off.

You're lost in thought, re-reading your essay in your head as the brothers argue playfully in the background.

Later that night, you're brushing your hair in the mirror while Tangerine trims his mustache. You're unusually quiet and he knows instantly that something is up. Still, he doesn't mention it until the lights are off and you're snuggled against his chest, his arm under your head as he plays with his hair and listens to the ceiling fan.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?"

You hum, circling hearts on his chest as you snuggle against him. You hold your tongue until he taps your head, prompting you to answer him. "It's nothing," you whisper.

"Try me," Tangerine says into the darkness, his voice soft.

"I was joking back then but—what if it happens? What if one day, I have to represent you," you say after a moment of silence, your voice strained. "Or I have to actually prosecute you—"

Tangerine chuckles slowly, still stroking your hair. "I doubt you'll have to do any of those things, darlin', considering we're together—isn't that against your rules?"

You pause, holding him closer. "I mean yes and no but—" you pause, "what if, y-you don't come home because something went wrong or—you actually end up in prison," your voice fades and you go quiet again and Tangerine understands what this is about. He's never actually stopped to think about how you worry for him. How it must weigh on you, learning what you do, and to know all the things that could happen to him.

"Hey," he says and sits up to turn on the bedside lamp. He pulls you up with him and turns to look at you. "Sweetheart, nothing is gonna happen to me. I'm careful, ya know that." He strokes your cheek, wiping under your worried eyes as he taps your nose. "You have nothing to worry about."

You look at him, still worried. "But, how can you be so sure?"

Tangerine smiles and nuzzles his nose against yours, kissing your lips sweetly. As much as he doesn't want you to worry about him like this, it's kind of endearing. He pulls away and pulls on your bottom lip, smiling. "Because there is nothing in this world that could keep me away from you. I won't let it happen."

His words warm your chest and you smile, leaning into his touch as you kiss him. His hands cup your face as you climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. Your hands find his hair as you kiss him, tasting him as if you're starved of him.

"Promise?"

Tangerine nods between kisses. "I promise, angel."

You continue to kiss him, occasionally rocking your hips into his as he groans softly into your lips. It's sensual and soft and you're both exhausted. Tangerine runs his hands up your back, holding you. "I love you," he says, sucking love bites onto your neck.

You hum and say, "I love you," back as you kiss him again and dip down to give him your own set of marks. He groans, happiness filling him as he reaches back for the lamp and manages to turn it off again, plunging you both in darkness again.

"Mine," he whispers against your hair and you nod.

"Yours."

* ~ *

my dear reader, this was such a fun mini-series and i am incredibly proud of the writing in this. i really hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it and sharing it with you all! xo

#tangerine #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine fluff #tangerine angst #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine bullet train #tangerine bullet train x reader #tangerine bullet train x fem!reader #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train tangerine #aaron taylor johnson

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theshinazugawaslut · 4 months ago

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𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑻𝑶𝑩𝑬𝑹 𝑫𝑨𝒀 #𝟐 — 💀🎃 "𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 & 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉" 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒊 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 / 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒙

tw/cw: dubious consent, mentions of attempting suicide

Don't go, don't go, don't go, don't go.

It's the first thing you had learned as a young bumbling girl, back when you'd clutch onto your mother's cold hand tightly and ask in a high, squealing voice about the woods you had found out were strictly forbidden.

"Don't go in there," your mother had said in a hushed tone, "there are awful people in there; ones who will offer you ruby-red apples with the magick of eternity's youth, but you mustn't ever take them, my baby, and if you even manage to get away from the faeries and witches and wolves, then you will reach the ocean infested with all sorts of monsters. You don't wish to be eaten by a half-bird half-fish now, would you?"

So you'd always been wary of the forest, as a little girl to a lady, living a respectful life at the village.

You spent days embroidering satin gowns with arcipluvian birds and cutting sweetheart necklines with a healer's steady hand and stitching diamond-encrusted bodices into tulle skirts; all the uninteresting things that come with being a dressmaker's daughter.

Though tonight, you'd long abandoned the box of jewels and the slim needle that had become a tender muscle in your mind, left them by the melting candle on your bedside.

Your shoulders donned a blood-red cloak made of velvet, your gown glittering under the night sky; you'd stitched it yourself from the spare fabric of a rich woman who often visited your family's little shop in the village. It was a lovely thing and it was your most prized possession: the bodice was nice and fitted, ivory in colour with rose and aureate embellishments, low and tight so that the clear spheres of your breast were nipped with cold; you'd made your skirts wonderfully layered also — a swelling blood red silk underskirt covered with a sheer, glittering gold fabric, with two overskirts in damask patterns, sable and cream and sun-spun.

When you had sewn it, you'd left it hanging in your sparse wardrobe in hopes to wear it on your wedding day.

Now, all that was left was to wear it tonight and walk straight into death; the tangerine glow of the lantern held up in your dainty fingers, lighting the path to the angel of death.

You had never thought your mother would arrange your marriage to the worst man in the village. Your beauty was sought by every boy and man of the village, and you'd hoped your mother would match you to the sweet butcher's boy across the street.

Keigo, his name is; a boy with hair spun off golden sunflowers and eyes that glitter like topaz under moonshine, sharp as a hawk. He gave you candied cherries once, the tart fruit dipped in hardened sugar water, and he'd smiled so shyly after.

Instead, your mother betrothed you to Touya, the eldest son of the village chief. You had wanted to cry as the man's intense, electric-blue eyes blazed flames into your skin as your mother and his father discussed the engagement.

Everyone knew of Touya, the enigmatic eldest son covered in gnarly, mulberry scars and strange silver rings and snow-white hair, rumours circled like wisps of smoke that he had been set alight with fire by a witch as a young boy. Worse, rumours said that the young man dabbled in dark magic.

You wouldn't marry a man like that, which is why you'll die.

In the forest.

(Don't go.)

Your lantern only illuminates the trees in front of you, just a few steps away into certain death. Webs shimmer like meshed steel in front of you as you take a ginger step inside, the slow crunch of a leaf below your boots is the only indicator something exists inside.

Almost immediately inside the forest, something shifts.

You can't tell what it is but it's there.

Red.

Your eyes become deer-like, large and frightened, and you turn around, wanting to head back but you find that the path back... isn't there, just endless forbidden forest.

That can't be.

Something gets stuck in your throat from panic, like a globe of cloth that makes your throat dry.

You keep walking, your legs a lot heavier now, something akin to logs.

The world around you seems to shift, a sepulchre silence heavier than the cloak on your shoulders. The trees held the macabre stench of blood, speckles of fungied moss glistening like wet witch dust on its mottled bark; the branches twist toward the sky like dark, skeletal fingers, reaching for the stars that winked down from a velvet expanse.

The moon is hideous tonight.

A whispering breath, no, a breeze, shifts through the lines of the forest and your body. It sounds old, perhaps a little sad. It beckons you.

In the back of your head, you can hear the sound of children singing.

Ring-a, ring-a rosies-

There's a beat of a drum, somewhere deep in the darkness where your lantern's weak light can't reach. A drum, a drum- A beating heart.

a pocket full of-

Enchantment twists and coils around you like a serpent, why are your eyes so-?

posies!

The phantasmal gas becomes the damp breath of the forest.

Shadows dance at the corners of your vision.

Your senses begin to reel, ethereal and monstrous and real suddenly not all the same.

A tissue! A tissue!

Flickering shapes form and die behind the trees; those shapes try to reach hands towards you, scintillating and fading.

The sound of a child wailing echoes throughout the forest, haunting the glades, and pouring into some desolate space elsewhere.

When did you start crying? Why are you running?

Someone is trying to hush you, the sound a hollow echoing, more like the ballad of a crumbling cathedral, like fingers of shadow snuffing out the lights.

Why did you go?

Don't go.

We all-

Arthritic brambles catch on your dress for a moment, gnarled with age, snapping like bones as your boots slap through the sounds of the night.

Something spidery slips into your mind, nails sinking deep into the goo of your brain. The distorted image of your parents flashes before your eyes, the grotesque form of the sun-haired boy, the sweetness of electric-blue eyes.

Time loses meaning; minutes stretch into hours as you drift between consciousness and the realm of the lost. In this state, the boundaries of your existence waver like the edges of a dream, fraying like the gossamer threads in your gown.

Fall-

The night sky above transforms into a kaleidescope, the stars becoming blurs of light, something sinister flashing in front of your pupils instead.

In that one moment, you live hundreds of lifetimes, the beat of the drum getting louder, the singing even more so. You see it all: flowery childhoods and fantasies of a lover and children with his blue eyes and your tears at his funeral-

Down!

All you can do is shriek as you fall, dress dirtying.

It's silent again.

You look up and you freeze.

A deep pool of glittering, gemstone-blue expanding here, a stream behind it, most likely leading to the seas. It's stunning; glimmering like star gleam, burbling and thrumming like a child blowing bubbles into a cup. It lights up the rest of the forest around you, ripples reflecting across tree bark.

You reach out a hand just to touch, fingertips trembling just about to touch the surface.

A hand encloses around your wrist.

You don't have it in you to shriek a second time as blood-curdling eyes meet yours.

His eyes are red. Vivid, vibrant, violent.

He's simmering with cruel intent, volcanic and about erupt, but he's strangely calm, something hypnotic in his gaze and bluish hair falling in front of his ashy face.

The hand around your wrist is gentle. Thick, long fingers, and a broad, heavy palm; made to destroy, you don't doubt his touch is decaying.

He's half-submerged in water, the upper half of his body all sinewy muscle and the lower half... beneath the blue water, you think you see black swishing around; pulsating like a jellyfish.

"...A human," he murmurs with a heavy tongue, and you can see the gills flare . "So pretty."

Then everything about him changes, that eerie calmness you had caught before disappears as he smiles at the way your mind screams, your eyes bloodshot and terrified.

There;s something rotten in the way he quirks his lips up.

His teeth have the same glint as blood-drenched bones, like flesh ripped out of a body, like hot red swallowing you whole.

"Why are you here, little girl?" he asks, hissing through calcite.

The hand around your delicate wrist tightens.

Run.

Don't.

"I- I- I-" you stammer uselessly. "I- No, I-"

"Shh, 's okay." His other clawed hand comes to touch the plump of your cheek, talons gently tracing soothing patterns. "You don't have to... say a word."

His voice is sultry, soft... It's almost mesmerising.

The fingers on your wrist dance to the back of your hand as he traces the veins there, as if he wants to rip them out and sew himself a tail from them.

He entwines your hands together tenderly.

"Such hardworking hands," he coos, eyes taking in the sight of all the pricks from needling away at dresses. "You need to unwind." His eyes flicker to yours and he gives a half-smile half-smirk, almost genuine. "I can help with that."

His grin is lopsided, those red eyes glimmer, the incandescence of them illusory. "You want to...?"

Your vision becomes hazy, blurring like it did earlier, only this time it's much more relaxing. Like sleep spindles wrapping around your sore joints.

"You missed me, right? You came here all the way to see me, 'm honoured," he murmurs, mouth against your knuckles before pulling back just a little. Another flow. "You came here to see me, right?"

You can't remember now.

Why... did you...?

Why do you feel so disoriented?

"You're the sweetest, you know." The large, gentle hand on your cheek moves to the back of your head, sinking into your hair and bringing you closer to his mouth. You try and shake your head to fight away the warm haze. It's useless. "I've been feeling hungr- Lonely, for so long."

Both his hands cup your jaw now, thumbs caressing the lines he can find on you.

"You're lonely too, right...?" he murmurs and you find yourself nodding along, the gills on his neck flare. "It'd be nice if... you'd join me, here, in the waters." His voice is a whisper now, his mouth inching closer. "I bet you'd like it. My voice is prettier below as well, do you want to hear?"

You blink, frazzled.

The fingers on your face dig in a little harder.

"It'd be nice, you know, listening to beautiful songs with me," he says, "I just adore singing, especially at deaths, it's why everyone calls me Shigaraki. I bet you have a beautiful name, too."

But you don't say it, all you can hear is his name on repeat, like sea froth and foam on the red tip of your tongue.

"Beautiful girls like you deserve pleasure, you know...?" he whispers. "Do you want to...?"

You don't know why you nod.

But he kisses you. It's cold and his teeth gnash against yours, something in it is desperate as his claws make quick work of ruining your beloved dress.

Whatever he does, it keep the oxygen in your lung as he hauls you into the glowing pool that has become duller below it.

He's gorgeous in the water, in all his tentacled glory, and his eyes are burning red to keep the magick of remaining docile on you.

His lower half is the most bizarre thing you'd ever seen: blacker than squid ink at midnight, obsidian veins creeping up on abdomen and then his lower half splitting into eight meaty tentacles.

He grabs you by the throat this time, kissing you with his forked tongue, fangs nipping into the fat of your gasping bottom lip, the other hand holding your head.

You're entirely nude; soft legs floating in the water, virgin cunt exposed, the plump of your ass glimmering. He pulls back, grinning like a warping shadow as his hands touch your swollen breasts.

It all happens at once.

A slimy tentacle wraps around your leg, the other twinning the action, suckling onto your shins and knees and thighs, and he spreads you apart like a starfish, uncaring for how your hips almost shatter from the pressure.

Another tentacles winds itself like a gutless animal around your stomach and squeezes tight enough that all you'd eaten comes gurgling out in a cloud of yellow. The tentacle is large enough to sheathe around your tits, the suckers across the tentacles are like reverberating mouths on your nipples. Within seconds, your nipples are raw and bitten, expanding to twice their size obsenely.

Shigaraki grins as you let out a strangled moan before he shoves a bulky tentacle in your mouth causing your eyes to almost pop out your skull as it goes down into your thoat so that it almost explodes from expanding to fit the thing.

It's gorgeous how sweetly you let him thrust the throbbing tentacle in and out, even sweeter how you scream around it as he doubles down on your sugary pussy and ass.

It hurts so much you can't even feel it inside your stomach, the tentacle on your breasts moving up to squeeze at your throat.

Your stomach convulses from the gruesome size of him, hammering into your womb like a savage barbarian in a brothel. You catch sight of the merman through your tears; his eyes have rolled to the back of his head, mouth hanging open in a vulgar moan, and he was right, he does sound prettier under water.

Your blood is clear in the water as he fucks you, tentacles and sucker clamping and sucking and thrusting on the inside and out.

You're going to die like this, with this monster making you the prettiest human cumdump-

The flames of dark magic suddenly bleed into the waters, severing the tentacles of your captor, the spell breaking and you screech, watching as the monster flails about, blood gushing and staining the pool red as the cut tentacles float.

All you feel is unfamiliar hands holding onto you and swimming out of the waters.

The last thing you remember seeing is electric-blue eyes.

#shigaraki #tomura #tenko #shimura #shigaraki x reader #yandere shigaraki tomura #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #x reader #mha ff #fanfiction #oneshot #kinktober 2024 #day 2

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ellouchi · 2 months ago

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Jimmy wedding/marriage headcannons (sfw (see disclaimer)/gn)

Disclaimer: abusive and toxic relationship, mentions of physical and sexual assault. Please read this work at your own discretion.

Side notes: OHHH LOOK AT WHAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST YESTERDAY AHAH...hah my bad. So this started out pretty tame, too tame for my liking. I wanted to get more toxic and miserable and finally I managed to write this. I'm very proud of it tbh lol. First part is alright but second part has things mentioned in the disclaimer. As per usual if I made a mistake or forgot to include smth lmk!!

Lighter scenario:

— Jimmy wouldn't bring up marriage, why would he really? Yeah you two may have been a couple for years but this man literally sees no point in marriage. For him, marriage was not about love — it was about benefits. This doesn't mean Jimmy is unable to love, he can, granted in a very convoluted hot and cold way.

— provided your relationship is on the healthier side, if you bring up the topic, initially Jim would genuinely think you were joking. You weren't. You had to repeat yourself for him to finally consider your words, carefully.

— the man was torn: on one hand, of course you would want to marry him, on the other hand, why did you want to marry him? Jimmy will flat out ask a single "why". He expects something pragmatic, realistic but you give him nothing but a look full of love. Because you loved him, wanting to swear to remain by his side for eternity to come. It was corny, Jimmy couldn't understand how you didn't feel an ounce of embarrassment and yet... Jimmy looked away: dammit, how stupid you were. Now his mind was occupied with the thought of you being his spouse. Great....

— Jimmy would settle for a civil marriage, maybe a short trip to a chapel also. You must understand: this man chronically doesn't have money. You will either have a big proper wedding (which is highly unlikely, besides Jimmy doesn't even want it, he just has an idea that that's how it supposed to go), or just your signatures on the marriage contract. If you follow some specific religion pretty serious, he is willing to fulfil all needed procedures, but that's still bare bones.

— the surname thing can go two ways: either Jimmy insists that you take his surname or he takes yours provided he hates his family with burning passion. If your surname carries some status, definitely takes it, like no way he wouldn't. The idea of double surname weirds Jimmy out a bit but he would permit it if you used his surname more often.

— now, the ceremony: Jimmy will rent a rather chic costume. It's probably the first and last time you will see Jim looking so well groomed: his posture upright, hair slicked back and no traces of the stubble you came to adore. He looks like an eye candy, and even though the suit is not to his liking Jimmy felt all smug with the way you fawned.

— the image of you in your attire makes an impression on him too. Jimmy just stares at you shamelessly as always, he's not too generous with praise but his "wow" and a smirk tugging at his lips tells you all you need to know.

— Jimmy would struggle to find a ring for you. He was well aware he had to go to jewelry store, but the mental image of the employees' treatment of him made it excruciatingly hard. After several attempts, he finally found a decent store with an adequate selection of rings. The piece itself didn't have a diamond in it, but Jimmy was very proud of his find.

— no proper wedding didn't mean that there would be no celebrations. Together with none other than Curly you planned a tiny wedding party, Jimmy had already been suspecting that something was in the making. Despite anticipating the surprise, he had to admit he was looking forward to what you two had planned.

— Jimmy doesn't wear his ring, makes excuses like it's too tight or too loose or uncomfortable to wear but in reality he's afraid of losing it one way or another. He has to hide it from himself actually, just in case he was going to do something foolish.

— now that you're officially married, Jimmy will use his newly acquired status to his advantage. Whether it's legal dealings or winning petty confrontations, Jimmy is using you in many ways you aren't even aware of. This man truly felt like a winner after declaring to some jerk that he was your husband, not some random boyfriend.

— Jimmy will keep the little bride and groom statue that has been on the wedding cake, puts it somewhere on the shelf so anyone could see it. "See? That's you and me. Don't forget about it" he would remind you whilst pointing at it like a child.

— this doesn't end here however. Being your husband means having a silver of authority over you, even if you two are on "equal" standing. Gives Jimmy many opportunities to (un)consciously manipulate you or gaslight you into whatever he wants. "Maybe instead of listening to your "friends" you should be listening to your husband", "As your husband, don't I have a say in this situation?" and "Don't forget you choose to marry me, I didn't force you." are the most frequent ones.

— Jimmy still would struggle with the idea that out of all the people, you've chosen to marry him. He didn't have a high standing in society, a respectable job, or best of character he was painfully aware of that, just as you. During those moments of doubts, Jimmy would come over to you and hold you, possessively. You both swore to be with each other forever, there was no going back.

Darker scenario:

— if Jimmy thinks you're better than him, like you being more successful and respectable, he latches onto marriage like a starving wolf. There is no better way of keeping you to himself than marrying you, especially if you show the initiative. This man projects a lot of his insecurities onto you like it's his full time job. This creates constant arguments and fights, threats of divorce and tearful apologies.

— Jimmy wouldn't believe in spousal infidelity (if he does it, naturally). If you remind him he's a married man, who's married to you, Jim will become annoyed, hostile even, and ridicule you for being overly jealous. The whole marriage situation becomes more of ordeal to him than something of use, especially if you put pressure on him "for no reason". Jimmy's attitude will get worse and worse with time, if he previously didn't pull any weights into the your relationship, now he actively sabotages it.

— Jimmy normally doesn't have paranoia but he's very susceptible to it. Marrying him in order to ease his worries, like you leaving him, won't work and would make things worse, so much worse. Precisely because you're his spouse, Jim would monitor or outright stalk you. It will start with checking your phone, any written journals, receipts from purchases and will escalate to him wandering nearby your work and following you when you're out with your friends or family. Even at home, where the two of you live, Jimmy won't take his eyes off from you.

— paranoia with turn into controlling your every move. Jimmy would create some absurd narrative, stemming from his own insecurities no less, and would frequently accuse you of being unfaithful. At some point smiling at your phone becomes something you have to look out for unless you're prepared for a round of questioning. Retaliation would be met with even more aggression: do you think he's blind or stupid?

— since Jimmy is your husband, you must listen and obey him. Doesn't matter if you are too, or if you are the breadwinner, he is in charge of the household (like, the man barely contributes and when he does, likes to exaggurate his input). Jim loves feeling like he is in control so it's easy to stroke his ego simply by complying with whatever he says, but this will also inevitably trap you. From now on, Jimmy will tell you what to like and dislike, how to dress, whom to talk to and how to talk. With no retaliation from your side, he wouldn't be above getting physical with you, with time he would dehumanise you more and more. Yanks, pushes, slaps and finally beats you if you disobey or "act up". And worst of all Jimmy doesn't even register what he's doing to you.

— I'm not going to go into details, but I do want to bring up the fact that Jimmy would think it's okay to have sex with you whenever he wants. He believes that there is no such thing as "rape" in marriage, because why would you marry in the first place? Gropes you and uses dirty talk at semi public spaces and at home all the time, no matter the situation you're in. You're his spouse (property) after all.

— trying to plead to Jimmy's human side would be a futile attempt. He would remember all of your "cheating", your outbursts, cries and hurtful words towards him. Jimmy knows what you're plotting, you are making him furious with you to look like a victim when it's he who is suffering. You should be grateful he's not divorcing you, no one would want such an awful spouse like you.

— final point, the song for this relationship would be Mascara by Deftones (yes I'm a basic bitch)

#i have a feeling i will get shit for this but idrc #mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing x reader #x reader

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 1 month ago

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Strip

Dominick "Sunny" Carisi Jr. x Y/N - drabble - 2K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: undercover Carisi, stripper reader but nothing described, threats, trafficking, abuse, mention of SA, basically all the warnings that come with SVU as a whole

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Carisi sighed as the colorful flashing lights made the club feel ethereal. The naked flesh around him emanating the pungent smell of sex, money. He would never get used to that part of the job. He always felt bad for the women in this place. Not because they were sex workers, but because of how the men viewed them, treated them. As if they weren’t human, something to use. And the men always had these dark hollow eyes, like sharks. Throwing money like that somehow gave them permission to do as they pleased. The mic in his suit scratched against his skin as his arm stretched to follow you.

Sitting him in the large chair of the private suite, you closed the curtain, turning around to face the man. You walked towards him with a sway in your hips.

“Is it ok if we… don’t?” the man said.

You stopped in front of him with a confused and shocked expression. “You don’t want a dance?”

“No… but I can pay,” he said, fumbling with his wallet before he handed you $200. “I just needed to get away…” he mumbled trying to remember the name you had told him over the thumping music.

“Candy.” you shrugged, taking the money from him and putting it under the strap of your bra. “Not a fan of clubs?” you asked him before sitting on the arm of the chair as it was the only place to sit in the tiny room.

“Sunny,” he said, shaking your hand like a gentleman, “And no not really, especially this one.” he said, looking up at you.

You let out a chuckle, “No? I’ll let you in on a little secret - me neither.” you took out a cigarette and lighter from behind the chair, you and the other dancers had them stashed in almost every room.

“Oh? And why is that?” he asked, taking the lighter from you and holding it out for you to light the cig.

“Strippers don’t have worker protections ya know? And our boss, yikes.” you said, letting out a drag.

“The uh, the big Russian guy?” Carisi asked. The Russian owner was the target, after one of the girls from the club had been found dead in an alley with a surprising amount of “work” to make sure she was hard to identify.

“Vladimir Kosorovka.” you said, even his name sent a chill down your spine. “He’s…” you paused, realizing what you said next could earn you one of Vlad’s punishments.

“You’re safe, I promise.” Carisi said, instinctively going to hold your hand.

“He’s a monster.” you shuddered. “Diamond went missing and he didn’t even sound concerned… and when she was found… dead, all messed up… I swear he smiled? Like he was happy that it took the police days to figure out she worked here, and that's only because Daisy called the tipline because she was worried.” you said, your hand trembling in his grasp. “I think he did it.” you whispered.

“Why’s that?” the man asked, his eyes told you he wanted to know but that he would also protect you from Vlad.

“Ya know, its never been hard for me to tell when a cop comes in, especially undercover. You all look around too much.” you said, pushing Carisi’s shirt aside slightly, seeing the mic taped to his chest. Carisi looked down, trying to think of what to do now that he was compromised. “You’re safe, I promise.” you said, squeezing his hand for reassurance.

“What can you tell me about your boss?” he said, much more confident in himself now that he wasn’t hiding.

“Like I said, he’s a monster. He beats us. Robs us. Rapes us. We’re his and we all owe him a debt… If I knew the price I never would have come here…” you sighed.

“Come here?” Carisi asked.

“He brought all of us to the USA, all the dancers out there are illegal, including myself. It's why we don’t leave… can’t leave… until we work off our $20K debt. If we have sex with him he takes off $100. Even if he forces us… how generous.” you said with a nervous smile, trying to conceal your anxiety. You had never told anyone this, but something about the man in front of you made you feel safe.

“What do you want to do, if you didn’t have to stay here?” he asked.

His question stunned you for a moment, realizing it was coming from him and was completely unrelated to police work. “I… want to become a citizen and go to school…” you said.

“And then what?” he said, his eyes encouraging you to go on.

You smiled softly at him, “I want to be a lawyer… to put people like Vlad away.”

Carisi broke out into a bright smile, he couldn’t help it. “I’m gonna be a lawyer too, maybe I’ll see you in class sometime.”

You put your cigarette out on the back of the chair, flicking the butt behind it as well, “Wouldn’t that be nice?” you said, a tinge of sadness in your voice.

Suddenly you heard stomping, the pattern was familiar - Vlad. You could hear him yelling in Russian but only one word stuck out to you - конфеты. Candy. Without thinking you pushed Sunny back against the chair, your fingers running through his silver locks to mess his hair up. You tugged at his tie, covering the mic.

“Trust me?” you said, looking at him with panic stricken eyes.

He nodded quickly, hearing the steps get closer.

You dropped to your knees, undoing his belt quickly before dragging down his zipper. Carisi’s face was burning red but he played into it when the door swung open, throwing his head back and gripping your hair.

“Move it Candy.” Vlad said with hostility in his tone, yanking you up by your arm.

“Hey man I paid $200 for this action, let her finish eh?” Carisi said with faux irritation.

Vlad looked between the two of you, he snatched the $200 from your bra strap before tossing you back towards Carisi. Your tall heels made you stumble backwards, landing straight in his lap. “Make him happy, then come to VIP.” he said before slamming the door shut.

Carisi felt you tense when Vlad mentioned VIP. “What’s in VIP?”

You remained frozen on his lap, “Nothing good… It’s the last place Diamond went before she…” your hands clenched into fists.

Carisi gently switched places with you, sitting you down before he straightened out his clothes. “Stay here.” he said.

You snatched his hand, “Please don’t leave. You’re the police, you have to protect me… something awful will happen to me if I go up there.”

“Trust me?” he asked, squeezing your hand.

You looked between his eyes for any signs of deception but found none, you nodded watching him open the door to leave. “My name is Y/N. Y/N L/N… just in case something happens to me.” you blurted out.

“Dominick Carisi, nothing is gonna happen to you. I promise.” he said before shutting the door.

You stayed still and silent, after a moment you heard screams, yelling, the music cut off and it sounded like people were raiding the building. You stayed where you were not wanting to bump into Vlad or any of his friends. When the door burst open you saw a woman with brown hair and eyes.

“Hey you’re ok, my name is Olivia, you’re safe.” she said, shrugging her large jacket off before handing it to you.

You took it, nodding at her gratefully as you put it on. Anything was better than walking into the cold New York air in a tiny string bikini if you could even call it that. Olivia led you out slowly, red and blue lights flashing everywhere.

“I want Sunny.” you said randomly as EMT’s sat you down, covering you with a shock blanket.

“Ok honey, I’ll send him your way.” Olivia said before re-entering the club.

After a while you saw him emerge and come your way. You don’t know why but as soon as you saw him your eyes watered and you couldn’t help but hug him.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

He hugged you back, trying to comfort you.

The embrace didn’t last long, Vlad was dragged out in cuffs but as soon as he saw you hugging a cop he rushed you. He knocked you to the ground before the cops could restrain him. “You are dead little one. You cannot hide from me in this city. I own it, I own you. You and Diamond will both belong to the gutter. Slut.” he said, spitting at you with his final insult before being dragged off.

Carisi helped you off the ground, “That was a direct threat to a key witness.” he said to Olivia.

“I know. She needs a safehouse.” Olivia said.

“No please! Vlad has friends in the police, I am as good as dead.” you said with a watery voice.

“No you’re not. I’ll take care of this.” Carisi said to Liv, she nodded at him despite not knowing his whole plan.

Carisi left you with the EMT’s while he had his wire removed and stored with the rest of the evidence. As he sauntered back to you, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you looked in the early morning light. The sun had yet to rise but it was slowly making its way there.

“Come on.” he said, holding a hand out to you.

“Where are we going?” you asked as he led you to his cruiser.

“Home. It’s safe, warm, and nobody will know you are there.” he assured you.

“Is that allowed?” you asked out of curiosity.

Carisi shrugged, “Our secret.”

You smiled and nodded. The drive was quiet and you were sure you fell asleep at some point because when you woke up you saw the city behind you. “Staten Island?” you asked.

Sunny nodded as he parked before running around to your side to open the door. He walked ahead of you, showing you to his apartment. Inside you finally stopped shivering, you kneeled down finally taking off your heels. When you stood on your feet you let out a sigh of relief. Now you had to look up at Sunny when he spoke.

“I’ll get you some clothes.” he said before walking off. You remained where you were, feeling awkward.

When he returned he handed you some pajamas that were soft to the touch, “They’re my nieces, should fit you.”

“Thanks.” you said, dropping the coat Olivia had given you to put them on. You noticed the blush on Carisi’s face as you dressed. “Don’t get embarrassed now.” you chuckled.

His laugh was the most perfect sound you’d heard in so long. Genuine and full of heart. “Italian?” you said.

He looked at you with intrigued eyes, “What gave it away?” he asked.

“You put your heart into everything.” you said. You were always so perceptive, it saved you more times than you could count.

Carisi smiled at that, “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Honestly I’d love to just sleep… Vlad kept the club open 24/7 and made us do coke to keep up. I don’t remember the last time I slept in a bed.” you said, crossing your arms in front of you to hold yourself.

Carisi’s smile dropped to one of knowing sadness. He nodded for you to follow him which you did. He opened a door at the end of a narrow hallway. A large bed with blue bedding.

“She’s all yours.” Carisi said.

You smiled at him before running and jumping onto the bed. Your body melted instantly at the softness of it all. The second you closed your eyes you felt yourself drifting off. You could hear Sunny giggling at your actions before you felt him pull a blanket over you.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, just down the hall. Come get me if you need anything.” he said before leaving.

As you drifted off you couldn’t stop thinking about the man who not only saved you but made you feel something other than terror. It wasn’t lust, it was more pure than that. Butterflies? God you hoped so, and hoped that just maybe he felt them too.

--------------------

Naboo's Note:

Merry Crisis everyone lol my brain is so fried and its only going to get worse over the next three days. Hope ya'll enjoy, XOXOXOX!!!!!!

#law and order svu fic #law and order svu fanfiction #svu fic #law and order svu #svu #olivia benson #sonny carisi #dominick carisi #carisi x y/n #dominick carisi x reader #dominick carisi jr #peter scanavino

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itsmemuffy · 1 month ago

Text

I can make you feel better...

And you know you will (chapter 2)

Contents: Original Trilogy! Logan x fem reader, obsessive and touched starved Logan, major honeymoon phase, male masturbation, panty stealing, oral (m! receiving), breast worship, fingering, cum eating/swapping, angst, light blood + violence, mentions of Charles, Scott, Jean, Ororo and Peter (Collosus)

Chapter One Summary: You keep everything running as smooth as possible in the background while Professor Xavier keeps a very full plate of locating mutants, running the school, and leading the X-Men. A steady stream of mutants come and go through the mansion, but a certain one in particular makes it his mission to nestle his way into your life.

Chapter Two Summary: Logan navigates his needs as your relationship blossoms. He weighs his insecurities against his feelings for the woman he loves. Once everything is said and done, he finally gives in. Smut under last divider.

Author's note: Credit where credit is due, this post by @avocado-writing inspired the first part of this chapter. Thank you to all the wonderful writers in this fandom ;*

Logan played the memory of your lips against his over so many times in his head as he was falling asleep that by the time he woke up, he thought it must of been a dream. The morning sun that crept through the curtains of his room assisted him in coming to his senses. He squinted as he finally opened his eyes, light beaming into his retinas. That wasn't a dream. It was all for real this time...

He stumbled down the dim hallway in his usual morning stupor. Routine the same as always, except for one factor. You were gone. Your scent lingered faintly in the hall from when you left to catch your flight before the sun even had a chance to rise above the landscape.

Logan's brain didn't have time to catch up with his body before his feet stopped himself in his own tracks in front of your bedroom door. Snapshots of you standing before him, wrapping yourself around his body flooded his memory. The way you held onto him in that moment was as sweet as candy, but your touch heated him like pure capsaicin.

As the scene replayed in his mind, that same throbbing heat overcame his body, starting at his groin until it reached the tip of his ears. Logan glanced to his left. And then his right. Good, he thought. No one was around to bear witness to what he was about to do. He tested his luck when he wrapped his hand around the doorknob. Holy shit, it's unlocked.

Your door was swiftly opened and then shut behind him with a quick squeak that sounded out into the hall. It was a noise no one would bat an eye at upon hearing, but Logan was treating this as serious as a diamond heist. Sometimes he forgets that not every mutant's senses are as sharp as his.

He decided against turning the light on as not to raise suspicion. Instead, he let the dull lines of blue light from the closed window shades guide his endeavor. The space was tidy and organized, just as Logan expected.

He had only been in your room once before now. You had left notes on your bedroom desk on students whose mutations required them specific nutritional needs. Charles had requested them in a meeting that Logan also attended. Of course, he was the first to volunteer to grab them for you.

He had ample opportunity then to do what he was doing in the current moment- hunting for pieces of you in your own private space. As much as he was tempted to do so, he couldn't bring himself to keep his sweet girl waiting. He melted at your praise when he promptly delivered your papers.

He glanced around your room. Logan didn't know exactly what he was looking for. Something- anything that could give him his fix. It was your own fault, after all. You just had to spur him on last night.

First and foremost, he was an animal that never gave much practice to supressing his more perverse compulsions. To Logan, it was just simple biology. That was the excuse he gave himself when he made a beeline straight to your dresser. He knew what he was looking for now.

He quietly opened each and every drawer, carefully sifting through your clothes making sure they were put back exactly where he found them. Some articles evoked pleasant memories of the times you have worn them- others he had yet to see on you. Logan dreamed of the day you would get all dressed up just for him, wearing things no other man has ever seen you in.

When he got to the second to last drawer, Logan hit the jackpot. Inside, your bras and panties were lined up in tidy little rows. He held up multiple pairs, envisioning the way the fabric would wrap snugly around your curves. A pink, silky thong adorned with little ribbons is what he settled on as his favorite. He put them all back except for that specific pair.

A stack of polaroid photos that lay on your dresser piqued Logan's interest next. He snatched them up and made himself comfortable on the divit on the far side of your bed. It wasn't lost on him how you appeared to sleep on a singular side in favor of the middle of the mattress. Maybe you were saving room for someone to lay down beside you at night. Maybe you needed him as much as he needed you.

He shamelessly took a moment to rub his face into the pillow. The scent of you mimicking the sensation he felt when he nuzzled himself into your hair the night previous. Your shampoo, your lotion, your perfume, your sweat. It all came together to create a sensation he could never get from anyone else.

It was maddening- all too much and never enough at the same time. His cup could never be full of you, yet it overflowed in crashing waves. God forbid you found out about his little expedition into your bedroom, but he was a desperate man. Logan lay on his back and focused his attention to the pictures he held.

The photo on top of the stack captured the common area of the mansion, adorned in white and gold with "New Year's Eve" hanging from the ceiling in glittering letters that reflected the flash of the camera. It was from the year before he had arrived at the mansion. He shuffled that one to the back of the pile.

The second one was of you, Jean, and Ororo posing with champagne glasses in hand. All of you were in your best holiday dresses. Logan's eyes immediately caught on your exposed thighs, semi-transparent tights spread taught over the ample flesh. Now we're getting somewhere...

He flipped through a few more; photos of the catering, Jean and Scott dancing, and the clock striking midnight. None of them interested Logan.

The next photo in the stack displayed a shining bald head taken from above. It was Charles with a bright lipstick print on top his scalp. Logan immediately recognized your signature shade. This one was labeled underneath as "New Year's Kiss."

He couldn't supress the laughter coming up from deep within his chest as he pictured you tipsy off the champagne, planting a big 'ol smooch onto the unsuspecting professor. Logan had half a mind to be jealous, but he was convinced he'd be the one you would welcome into the next year- this time on the lips.

Logan's breath caught in his throat when he saw what the next picture was of. You were standing in front of your bathroom mirror, leaning forward slightly over the sink with your chest pushed out. The straps of your dress had slipped down your shoulders, exposing your breasts.

Immediately, he felt his pants tighten. Logan already craved your body like a starved beast and seeing your perfect tits left him in awe. They were better than he could of ever imagined, and he imagined them a lot. The days you chose to wear your tight little sweaters were like fucking Chistmas to him.

As he notices your face was flush from the alcohol, he fantasizes about how that night must of went. His sweet, responible girl maybe had one too many to drink. You probably saw yourself all dolled up in the mirror when you stumbled into the bathroom, wishing you had someone like Logan there to worship your pretty tits. What else were you to do but reach for your camera, not to waste this precious moment?

His cock was expanding at such a rate he was all but bursting out of the denim. It was too late to turn back now. Logan hurriedly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans to shimmy them down to his knees. He took a second to palm his hard buldge through his boxers. All of the time he spent memorizing your tender touch once again came to good use.

Enough playing around, he thought to himself, time to get to business.

Logan fished his fully erect cock out of his boxers in one swift motion. It was already throbbing. He took a single finger to spread clear beads of precum around the head until the swollen, sensitive flesh was sticky and shining in his own arousal. In his mind's eye, Logan was imagining you lapping at the tip of his dick like the needy little thing he knew he would be able to turn you into.

He placed the stack of photos down next to him, keeping his favorite on top, and grabbed your panties. With one hand steadily stroking up and down his entire length, the other held up the silky pair to his face. Logan would of preferred them worn and marked with your scent- but a man in his position has to take what he can get.

His tongue ran stripes up and down the crotch of your panties, now envisioning you sitting on his face with your juices soaking through the material. In reality, they were just coated in his saliva. He wanted to hold you tight and make you squeeze his head between your thighs like a vice. If he could just taste you, Logan may finally be able to die and reach heaven. He chokes out a desperate groan into the fabric, breathing heavy and shallow.

Logan was getting close, rhythmic schlick-ing noises echoing off the four walls. There was no way his fist would be able to squeeze around him like you would, but he still tried anyway. He wrapped your thong around the base of his cock, the delicate fabric brushing against his full balls with every stroke.

The final scene he conjured up that drove him over the edge was you bouncing on top of him. Logan pictured you all sweaty and panting as you chase your high. Your legs would shake against him with exhaustion. The way his cock would be nudged so far deep inside would be too intense for you to hold any of your pathetic little noises back. He'd leave bruises in the shape of his palm on your ass as you rode him. Just to make sure you were unmistakably his. Nobody else's.

He bit his knuckle to stifle the guttural sounds of him reaching his peak. All of Logan's red hot blood had rushed to his cock, length pulsating in syncopation with his heartbeat. His breathing stopped completely as he spurted thick, white ropes into his own hand. What a waste he wasn't dispositing his cum into your warm mouth. He knows his good girl wouldn't waste a drop.

Logan has touched himself to the thought of you before. Many times, in fact. But this time, deep in your very own bed, he reached heights he hasn't felt in god knows how long. His chest and thighs were slicked with sweat and his breathing remained heavy long after his initial release. When he finally gets to make you his, he questions if he'd be able to stop himself from completely ravaging your body. Would his sweet girl be able to handle all that he's ready to give you?

He cleaned up himself with your goddamn adorable little thong, fabric barely able to hold all of his spend. After his slow return back to reality, Logan realizes his teammates might start wondering where he is. Not that it's any of their damn business. I go where I please.

It could be bad news if they start searching for him, however. Him and Scott were due to depart on some sort of mission. The briefing that had been schedueled beforehand was coming up in less than twenty minutes. Alright, alright. Time to get a move on.

Logan wrapped your panties in a tissue from your nightstand and tucked them away in his pocket- making a mental note to hide them somewhere safe in his own room before he departed. He considered taking that photo with him, too. Ultimately, he ruled it too risky. But not before taking one last look, committing every detail to memory.

Charles has suspected there to be a shadow organization tasked with framing mutants for crimes they didn't commit to accelerate anti-mutant sentiment. He had split up the X-Men to visit scenes of the alleged crimes to hopefully figure out who could be behind this. Every team came back empty handed.

Time was moving painfully slow for Logan while you were away. The mission he had gone on with Scott ended up being a total waste of time. He had to endure an entire day working alongside his favorite teammate, with no one to mitigate between them, and it was all for nothing.

To top everything off, one of the students started a fire trying to toast a pop-tart in their room. Unable to control his ability, he instead let out a huge explosion that incinerated a good portion of the east wing. Charles almost had an aneurysm when he got an estimate on the renovation costs.

It took hours to clean out the debris, painstaking and tedious work for even the mighty Wolverine. Him, Scott and Peter were working at it even as the biting cold came with the nightfall. Needless to say, Logan was having a miserable weekend.

He needed a victory- some worthless piece of shit to sink his claws into. Logan was growing extremely restless. Good thing the danger room remained untouched in the accident. Might was well blow off some steam...

Logan trained well into the night, the morning you would arrive back fast approaching with the coming dawn. He lost himself tearing through fabricated enemies. So high on his own adrenaline, all the pain he should of felt went ignored. His knuckles were tingling and numb by the time he collapsed to the ground, heaving.

When he finally caught his breath and every wound stitched itself back together, he ended the session. He actually did feel better now- emotionally, anyway.

Logan stomped through the halls, mind completely vacant. His entire body gleamed with sweat, except for dull patches of dried blood scattered across his torso. The underside of his eyes were heavy with bags. If someone were to ask him at what point in there he had lost his shirt, he wouldn't of been able tell them.

"Jesus Christ," a voice he had dearly been missing called out from behind him. "You went ahead and dragged yourself through hell again, didn't you?"

All he could do was grunt as he turned on his heels to see you, eagerly prancing toward him with suitcases in stride. He took a second to take you all in. You were dressed in your comfiest of clothes, hair and makeup slightly dishelveled from your plane ride. Logan thought you looked oh so warm and inviting. He wanted to scoop you up and carry you around like his own personal teddy bear.

As jarring as he appeared before you, it wasn't a sight you've never seen before. You had to learn early on to let him do what he needed to do- and there was no use in wasting your breath to scold him for pushing himself past limits. In this moment, you were just happy to see his face.

"C'mere, big guy," you stepped forward and enveloped him into your arms, not caring if Logan was getting your sweatshirt dirty.

As much as you had fun spending your days off with some of your old friends, you couldn't help from thinking about him the entire time. You weren't quite sure where the two of you stood now in terms of your relationship. All you knew is that you both benefited from having eachother close.

Logan's nose flared up at the scent of dozens of strangers on you. The unfamiliar sensation made his lips curl up in a snarl. He wrapped his arm around your waist tight, lifting you a foot off the ground.

"Missed ya, doll," he nuzzled his beard up and down your neck and chest, marking your body with a scent more suitable for you. You giggled uncontrollably as the hairs tickled your flesh. "Hope you had a better past few days than I just did."

"Yeah, I heard..." You held on to the back of Logan's head as he put you back down, fingernails gently grazing his sweaty scalp, "I'm gone for one weekend and this place falls apart, huh?"

"Damn right, it did," he chuckled darkly, breath hot against your earlobe.

"I'm just glad no one was hurt," you watched him as he broke the embrace to scoop up your luggage, "that's more than we can hope for some of these days."

The two of you made your way down to the rooms. At your doorway, you thanked Logan for carrying your bags with a kiss on the cheek. He adored how the feel of your lips was already becoming routine.

"So, do you want to uh..," Oh god, you had no idea how to do this. You were so comfortable with eachother as friends but now that he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you whole, it was like learning how to speak again. Logan would steal glances like this since the day he first laid eyes on you, but now he didn't have much of a reason to hide it anymore. It definetly did not help that the rise and fall of his bare chest with each breath was so fucking mesmerizing. "You want to maybe, um, see what I brought back from my trip?"

The way Logan towered over you, boxing you in against the doorframe and burning holes into your body with his gaze, was borderline criminal. "Let me go ahead and jump in the shower then you can show me, sweetheart. I want to hear all about your little vacation," his voiced remained low, bordering on a whisper. "I'll meet you back here when I'm done, okay?"

He gave you a quick peck on the lips before he split off into his own bedroom. Logan knew if he gave you anything more, he wouldn't be able to help from shoving his entire tongue in your mouth. All in good time, he reminded himself. There was no need to rush when things were going so well between you. You plopped down on your bed and tried not to think about the man soaping up his body just a few doors down.

Steaming hot blasts of water pounded away at Logan's aching muscles, reminding him how just exhausted he truly was. Despite the lethargy that was dragging him down, he was determined to push through it just to spend more time with you. It felt to him like he hadn't seen you in ages.

Logan patted himself dry as he stared into the mirror. Now that you were back he pondered all the ways this relationship could go. He ached to be close to you in every way possible. As much and he felt you belonged alongside him, there was still an apprehension nagging him in the back of his mind.

After all, you haven't even see the full aspects of his mutation. He's never protracted his claws around you- never had to, thankfully. And you've only witnessed him recover from very minor injuries. Would your soft, sweet self still feel the same way about him if you saw him bloody and gored, metal bones protruding?

You've never shown signs of being scared or wary of him besides basic shyness. Maybe you would of if you'd seen early on what he can really do. Logan wanted to squeeze you tight and never let go, but could he even trust himself to sleep through the night with you beside him? The rips and tears in his sheets told him, no, you can't.

He threw on a fresh pair of sweats and a t-shirt. With the flick of a lighter, he lit up a cigar to calm his nerves. After running his fingers through his hair to get it juuust right, he headed back to your room like he promised.

Your suitcases were open on the bed as you sat patiently at end with your hands in your lap. Was inviting him back into your bedroom a bad decision? Something in you yearned for Logan to take the lead and bring you to all those places that other men didn't even know existed within you. On the other hand, you weren't sure if you'd be ready to take him on in that way. At least not yet, anyway.

Your door opened and you immediately perked up. "You mind if I..." Logan waved the burning cigar in his hand before he entered the room. This may have been the first time in his life he had asked someone for permission to smoke. He cringed at himself for already being so whipped.

"As long as you don't ash anywhere but the tray." You had an old glass piece on your nightstand you repurposed into a dish for your jewelry. Rings rattled as you dumped them out and slid them out of the way. Logan turned his face to the side, hoping you wouldn't catch the small grin lifting his cheeks. It was the little actions that showed him how ready you were to make room for him in your life. Even as friends, you would always make the extra effort to go out of your way for him. God, what he wouldn't do for you in return.

He passed your dresser on his way to you and noticed the stack of photos as he felt a twinge in the pit of his stomach. Nestled there was something between guilt and the sick satisfaction that you were none the wiser about the parts of you he's now seen. The image of you topless in the bathroom mirror crept into his mind again and if Logan wasn't so damn exhausted, he would of gotten rock solid just thinking about it. Your panties were still hidden in the confines of his own room. He had already jerked off into the pair several times.

The bed dipped as his weight brought the mattress down, making your bags slide a bit towards him. He laid down on his side, propping himself up slightly on his elbow. "I'm all ears, baby. Tell me what my girl's been up to." Logan didn't miss how your posture shifted when he called you his.

He listened attentively to your soothing voice as you told him about the stores you visited and the all things you could only find in your hometown and he vented to you about his shitty weekend. You had a way of melting away the worries and the doubts from his mind without even trying.

Sleep crept it's way up his broad form until Logan fell unconscious. His cigar slowly billowed out in the tray. If it was a deliberate decision, he would of chosen to stay awake until he got back to his own room. You babbled on for a bit longer as you unpacked. After a minute or two without an affirmative yeah? or is that so? did you notice he was totally conked out.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him peacefully asleep, a low rumble sounding from his chest. He was obviously snoring, but the noise was more akin to that of a big purring kitten. It turned your heart to warm jelly seeing him this content.

You crawled on your hands and knees up the bed, careful not to wake him. At this point, you knew more than anyone else how falling and staying asleep was an active battle for Logan. You couldn't help from selfishly pressing a feathery-soft kiss to his forehead, even if there was a small chance the gesture would stir him to consciousness.

Your bodies faced eachother when you also succumbed to your own exhaustion- your travels hit your body harder than you had realized. Somewhere in your slumber, you had snaked your legs around his. Likewise, Logan instinctively reached out to hold your body against him with a heavy bicep.

A few hours later with noon fast approaching, a steady barrage of knocks at the door alerted Logan out his sleep. He glanced over to you, not able to recall when he had drifted off. Your limbs were still locked with eachother's as your slowed heartbeat and soft breath fanning against his arm almost lulled him back into his dream of you.

A voice from beyond the room shook him out of it. "Wakey wakey, I know you're in there." It was Scott. "I let you sleep in long enough. The professor needs you in his office asap."

Still in a daze, Logan completely forgot whose room he had just woken up in. He had not even considered that Scott could be talking to you. "Just fuck off and give me five more minutes, Summers," Logan grumbled.

Scott stood behind the door stunned, a scandalous smirk creeping up his face. Finally, some development between you and Logan- and was the visored mutant ever smug to be the one to make this discovery. He couldn't wait to tell everybody how he caught the big, bad Wolverine sneaking a nap in with the woman he has been pathetically crushing on for ages.

"Logan!?" Scott exclaimed incredulously, not even trying to supress the laughing fit he was breaking into. "Do me a favor, will you? Make sure the lady makes it to Charles in once piece. No time for funny business, you hear me?"

Logan would make him pay later on for mocking him, but to Scott it was sooo worth it. As he turned his attention back to you in bed, he noticed a dried streak of drool trailing from the corner of your mouth. You couldn't help it- his presence next to you made you feel safe and that lent itself to a very deep slumber. He wet his thumb between his lips before wiping it away from your face.

"Sweetheart, get up," Logan gently but firmly coaxed you out of your slumber with a hand tapping your shoulder.

"Mnnn... whaaat?" You mumbled as you swatted his hand away. "C'mon, let's go back to sleep..." You reached to pull him in, but he was all too sturdy in his stance. He was this close to saying fuck it and giving in to you. Hopefully you would forgive him for denying your whims this time.

"No, you come on. The big boss says he needs you in his office," his response illicited a long, disapproving groan from you. "Hey, hey, none of that," Logan tsked. "Not my fault my girl is so important."

My girl. Those words sure had a way of making you feel energized. You reluctantly sprung up from the bed and headed straight to the bathroom to clean yourself up a bit. He got up and followed close behind you, watching you wash your face and thinking about how that was the best sleep he had gotten in ages- even if it was only a short nap. Maybe sleeping next to you every night wasn't as crazy a dream as he thought.

You sat opposite of Professor Xavier at his desk, old leather of the seat sticking to your legs. The office was bright with natural light, fresh air circulating in through an open window. Charles was giving you a run down on everything he needed done this week. Letters to send out, field trips to scheduele, and an obscene amount of phone calls to make.

"We need to get those repairs done before the weather does irreperable damage to the insulation. Patching the roof is our top priority, call this number first." He handed you a slip full of contact information.

"Now that you're all caught up on current affairs, is there any matters you'd like to bring to my attention, my dear?" The professor looked you dead in the eyes in a way that you hated. You could never let your guard down around a telepath.

"You know me, Charles. Same old, same old. Never anything too exiting," a nervous exhale punctuated your words.

"What about Logan?"

Goddammit, Charles. You also couldn't stand how absolutely nosy the man could be sometimes. He was like a father awkwardly trying to gossip with his children, if only out of a desire to feel more included in their lives. It was irritating as it was endearing.

"What about Logan?" The way his name rolled off your tongue was enough to quicken your pulse. When did his name become the most beautiful sounding word? Everything was for Logan. Logan. Logan. Logan. "He's my best friend. We've just gotten close over the time he's been here, you know?"

"Fine. Whatever you say, my dear." With a dismissive wave of his hand, Charles gave up. You both had far too much to do for him to waste time wearing you down. He already saw everything he needed to see- sitting front row in the theater of your mind. The lecture he just gave to the students on ethics in telepathy be damned.

"Sorry, Charlie. You can't be the only man in my life forever."

"Yes, I know, I know." You could see the corner of his mouth curl upwards. It was nice to see a smile on the professor's face despite the stress he's been under recently.

He left you alone in his office to make your calls. The majority of the next few hours mostly consisted of hold music and the impatient tapping of your pen against the desk. You took on meaningless tasks like tidying up Charles' already spotless office as you silently prayed for a savior to your boredom.

Your prayers must of somehow been heard. As soon as your brain started to leak out of your ears from the sheer lack of stimulation, a larger than life presence made his way through the door.

"Thought you could get away with skipping breakfast, huh?" Logan sauntered his way into the open room, carrying something in his hand. "And skipping lunch, for that matter," he stated as he set down a plate full of food in front of you.

On the plate sat what was perhaps the saddest looking sandwich you had ever seen in your life- toppings slapped haphazardly between two slices of bread with condiments dripping down the sides. Still, it was cut vertically in half with chips filling the free space of the dish. You could tell he earnestly attempted to make it into something special.

"Tried to do it up as nice as you always make 'em for me..." Logan trailed off as he gazed down at the pathetic display. "Listen, at least it tastes good. I made sure a'that," he reached down to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Only now did you notice the bite taken out of the corner.

You brought your hand up to shyly cover the grin creeping up your face. "Looks delicious, Logan. Thank you," you giggled.

"What's baldy got you doing now? Playin' secretary?" Logan's focus turned to your legs that were swaying to the tempo of elevator jazz playing from the phone's fuzzy speaker. He watched intently as each subtle movement shifted the hem of your skirt.

"Basically. Not the most exiting but it needs to get done all the same." You took a mouthful of the sandwich and he was right- it was pretty damn good. If not a bit messy.

Small smudges of mustard collected at the corner of your lips, "No napkins?" Logan shook his head in response. You collected the condiment with your thumb, bringing it up to your mouth to clean off your finger. "Did I get it all?"

"Let me look at ya," he lifted your chin and turned your face, using this as an excuse to admire each side. From the slope of your nose to the angle of your eyes- every feature was a work of art to him. "Missed a spot." Logan's towering form bent down to be eye level with you sitting. Before you could realize what was happening, you felt his warm tongue lap at the smear on your cheek.

You didn't even know how to react. Logan was a roaring fire- in every aspect. Not only in terms of body temperature, but in his rage and how he burned hot for you. Crackling flames inside him drove his every decision. Your affection only provided more kindling. To put it simply, he was not a subtle lover.

He snuck in a few extra licks than were necessary and patted the excess drool away with his sleeve. "You're disgusting," you scolded him light-heartedly.

"Tell me you don't love it." Logan shifted to his knees to stay face to face with you. He captured your lips in a kiss, toying with locks of your hair while he put his devotion on display.

You could tell he was using every ounce of restraint he had. It was sickly sweet the way your mouths met again and again- each kiss never going beyond surface level. A fog was rolling in on the both of you. Dense in the air was the feeling of longing for more. These desires were as desperate as they were aimless. The two of you would never truly be able to get enough of eachother.

Your hands found themselves tenderly smoothing over the hair on his face. At this point, you knew him all too well. He was waiting for you to demonstrate to him how far you were willing to go. Logan felt the tip of your tongue swipe his bottom lip and the grunt this illicited from him sent a rush to your core.

He greeted your tongue with his and next thing you knew, your mouths were inseparable- locked together with no intentions of coming up for air anytime soon. Logan's movements still remained steady and deliberate. He was hedonistic in how he savored every sensation. His hands moved lower to knead at the dip in your hips to steady himself. Yours remained on his face to keep him locked in this embrace.

The two of you could of stayed like this forever, wetting eachother's appetite as you both held on for dear life. Forever came to an end when the hold music cut out abruptly- "Sorry for the wait, m'am. How may we help you?"

That night the students were still camped out in the common area whilst the repairs on their rooms were in progress. They made themselves comfortable on couches and in sleeping bags. It wasn't an ideal situation, but you tried to make it fun for them. You prepared popcorn and let them watch a few movies past their typical bedtime.

After the kids were all settled in for the evening, you joined everyone else in the kitchen. The soft buzzing of activity put you at ease. Within the room, Scott and Logan were complaining to one another- a cornerstone of their relationship.

"I don't understand why Charles couldn't just let us fix up the place ourselves like we aren't more than capable," Scott whined. He stood behind where Jean was sitting, leaning on the back of her chair.

"I reckon he doesn't think we're fit for the job," Logan left his position against the wall when he was greeted with your presence. Everyone's eyes were on him as he gravitated towards you.

"You know there are codes and regulations for stuff like that, right?"Jean remarked through a mouthful of pasta. "Stick to fixing sinks and patching up walls and leave the rest to the professionals."

He was standing right next to you now, hand at the small of your back while the conversation continued, "I'm telling ya, they didn't look very professional to me."

Logan took it upon himself to investigate the workers from the roofing company. They had arrived earlier to assess the damage. It didn't sit right with him how late they came and at such short notice. He took note of their attire- neat work pants and button ups that appeared to have never seen a day of hard labor in their life. The men were also absent of the distinct musk that handing tiles and other construction materials gave off. No traces of dust or dirt, the only thing Logan's nose detected was the unremarkable scent of a sterile office space.

"If they end up doing an inadequate job, you and Scott owe us a big, fat I told you so," Ororo chimed in from in front of the fridge. "Until then, the two of you can hush."

Logan's brows lifted and he rolled his eyes. It was hard to argue with a literal goddess. The hand at your back snaked its way to your hip, pulling you closer. He needed you close and he didn't care who knew. In fact, he preferred it that way. There would be no question of who he belonged to, because no one would dare mess with the woman who had his heart.

Knowing looks were cast in your direction from every corner of the kitchen. Everybody in the mansion has always regarded you with respect, even if you had a tendency to fade into the background. Frankly, you were not used to this kind of extra attention.

You pretended not to notice but Logan could tell it was bothering you. "Uh oh, I guess they know I'm sweet on ya, doll," he muttered to only you before planting a kiss to the top of your head, guiding your focus away from the prying eyes and back to him. "I'm going out for a smoke, c'mon."

Logan kept his arm around your waist as he escorted you through the mansion. You weren't sure where he was taking you, but you didn't care. As long as you were with him, all other details were not of concern.

The two of you turned a corner and he stalled, catching you from tripping over your interrupted step. An unfamiliar silhouette stood at the end of the hall, casting a long shadow against the dark wooden floor. Logan's body tensed up and all his senses were on alert. He recognized that sterile scent from earlier.

"Stay here," Logan commanded as he grabbed and secured you against a nook in the hallway. His touch was rougher than what was typical for when he handled you. You could feel the urgency in his grasp.

You froze in place and watched as he made his way towards the stranger. Logan took an intimidating stance, arms hunched out and prepared to make a move at a moment's notice. "Any reason you're still here? Why don't you head home, bub?"

The other man stayed silent in response. At this point, you and Logan both knew something was not right. He stood a few feet away from the stranger while waiting for provocation to retaliate.

The dim light caught between Logan's knuckles. Shining appendages gradually expanded from his fist with a sound unlike anything you have ever heard before- a combination of flesh tearing and a metallic shling that made you a bit queasy. He was preparing to strike.

You knew what they were. It was no secret to you what Logan was equipped with. His fellow X-Men would tell you wild stories about the vicious Wolverine that fought alongside them on missions, describing someone completely different from the man that you've come to know.

After what felt like an eternity but in actuality couldn't have been more than a few seconds, the man made his move. He grabbed something at his side. Everything was happening far too fast for you to catch what it was.

A large cracking noise reverberated off the walls as Logan was struck on the shoulder. You couldn't tell if the sound was the weapon breaking or him. He toppled over slightly, swinging his sharp claws at the stranger's legs with a roar. A twisted symphony of growls, grunts and shredding rung through your ears.

Before you knew it, the stranger slumped to the floor with a thud. The man wasn't dead, the exasperated breaths that he was squeezing out of his lungs made that much clear. Logan wasn't going to let him take another step towards everything that he cared for.

A group of speeding footsteps could be heard behind you as they made their way onto the scene. Jean, Scott, and Ororo must of heard the commotion. Still high off his own adrenaline, Logan turned to face you and his teammates. You could barely make out the dark fluid dripping from his claws and onto the floorboards. The air smelled like a roll of newly-minted pennies.

His eyes caught on your face. He had on an expression that you have never seen before. Wide-eyed and crazed, with a hint of something you couldn't quite put your finger on. Was it rage, remorse, or maybe even shame? Arms now limp at his side, Logan's slowly slid his claws back into himself.

You now understood the paralyzing fear his enemies must have felt when they faced him in combat. More importantly, you understood that he would preserve the safety of those around him without hesitation. All you could do was stand and stare, half expecting him to be pulled towards you like an opposite magnet similar to how he did earlier- but he didn't.

No one asked any questions. They all had a mutual understanding of what was to be done next and they made quick work of that. Jean took the man to the infirmary to treat his injuries and to be questioned later on. Ororo and Scott patrolled the mansion to see if the aggressor was alone, securing every enterence around perimeter. Now it was just you and Logan alone together again.

The gap was bridged between the two of you when you cautiously stepped towards him. The closer you got, the harder it was for him to maintain eye contact with you. Logan wanted to avoid this moment for as long as possible and he deluded himself into thinking he may of been able to forever.

You stood before him, granting him the space to recoup from what just happened. He was still stiff in posture.

"Well, we shouldn't just stand here," you were desperate to break up this painfully strained moment. "Those kids are probably scared, they don't know what's going on."

Logan followed close behind you, still on alert. To your surprise, the students were sound asleep in the common area. The movie still playing in the background must have drowned out the commotion down the hall. You sat on the last remaining couch that didn't have someone passed out on it and patting the space beside you. "Let's stay just here while we wait to hear back from everyone else."

Good idea, he thought. If anyone with nefarious intentions got to you or the children while he was absent, Logan would never forgive himself. Might as well make himself comfortable because he was not planning on getting a lick of sleep tonight. He sat down next to you, keeping a noticeable distance.

You thought of something you could do or say to put his mind at ease. Just when you thought you were starting to tear down his walls, he puts up another barrier. It was frustrating. All you wanted was to know what he was thinking.

"I don't really know what else to say but... thank you, Logan." You really meant it. No one was hurt because of him. The way he was quick to act with no regard for himself was unlike anything you had ever seen before.

"Don't mention it," he muttered shortly. Logan cut himself off before he could assure you with the usual affectionate pet name. You noticed this, and it made your heart sink to the pit of your stomach.

"Are you... hurt?" You knew he was okay, even if he felt the pain in the moment like anybody else would. "You took quite a blow back there."

"M'fine." He couldn't even look at you. You were getting nowhere.

"Whatever it is, just know that I love you, Lo." He was now viewing you from his peripheral, not even turning his head. You felt your voice start to waver, "All of you, every part. Don't worry about saying it back. I just need you to know that."

"Love ya, too. Not another word now, sweetheart, I mean it." Logan pulled you into him and you wrapped yourself around his side. You obeyed his request even if there was so much more you both could say.

You dozed off on his shoulder as he stayed awake through the night, ruminating on his conflicting feelings. It amazed him how even after you've seen the animal- no, the monster he saw himself as, you still felt secure in his presence.

Tonight he gave you a piece of himself he never intended to give, and you cradled that piece in your hands with a tenderness no one has ever granted him. His cheeks became damp with sparse tears as he kept his eyes darting between every point of entry. Under this roof, he was loved. He was needed. Anyone threatening his home better be ready to beg for mercy.

Charles assigned everyone busywork while he formulated his next move. He suspects that the X-Men were close to getting to the bottom of what was going on with the shadow organization, and perhaps that's why the mansion was targeted. Logan was more than happy to distract himself by putting his calloused hands to good use. In the end, him and Scott got what they wanted. They both worked from the inside while Ororo flew between sections of the busted roof.

You assisted them any way that you could, mostly by running supplies back and fourth. The mansion was filled with chatter about the night previous, but no one would have many answers until Jean finished questioning the intruder.

By nightfall, building materials had run out and there was nothing left to do until the stores opened the next day. A sizable portion had gotten done, but there was still plenty of work ahead.

After dusting himself off, Logan pulled you to the side. "Meet me in my room in a bit, yeah?" he rasped in a way that put you on edge. The two of you hadn't exchanged many words that day. The most you were able to get from him were single-word replies paired with a hungry look in his eyes.

"Are we going to talk, then?" You anxiously rubbed the tip of his elbow as you spoke.

"Talk?"

You bit your lip. Maybe now wasn't the best time to push him out of his comfort zone. "I care about you, Logan. I'd like to know what's on your mind sometimes."

"Hmm..." he leaned into you, close enough you could feel every exhale of each breath he took. "What if I showed ya instead of saying it with words? How's that, darlin'?"

A flutter was felt in the depths of your core as you realized what he might have in mind. "Yeah, I'd like that."

With a kiss that was much too quick, the two of you parted. You checked in with Charles like you always did before you retired for the night. After confirming he didn't need anything from you, it was time to make your way back towards Logan.

You approached his door and for a second, you hesistated. If Logan always made you feel safe when you were around him, why were you so damn nervous? There was so much pent up energy inside you that you were almost afraid to release. You felt for him far too much and you didn't want to mess this up.

The metal of the doorknob was cold in your hands as you turned it. Inside the room, Logan sat in a chair in the far corner in the low light of a desk lamp. He was leaning back with his legs spread apart.

"C'mere, baby," he set down his glass of whisky on the side table and gestured you towards him with his pointer finger. "Been hard at work all day. All I want is my sweet girl."

Logan never took his eyes off you as you made your way toward him. You felt his gaze shift up and down your body. When you stood before him, he looked up at your face again and patted his lap.

You sat down with your legs splayed across his own. He kept you in place on top of him with an arm around your waist while his fingers absent-mindedly stroked your upper thigh. All that was on his mind was how perfectly you fit against him. This is what he wanted- to clear his thoughts. You were the only person who had the power to do that for him.

"Wanna know what's really been on my mind, huh?" His words came out rough and strained. Before you had showed up, Logan was already getting himself worked up. He was savoring the sweet silence and the harsh bite of liquor all while visions of you danced around his head.

Logan ran the pad of his thumb back and fourth across your bottom lip, steady and focused. Blood rushed to your face and you couldn't help but purse your lips to gently kiss the tip of his calloused finger. This only encouraged him further.

You felt his digit dip past your lips and you obediently parted them. He started to rub small circles on the tip of your tongue, collecting saliva. Once he was pleased with how wet your mouth had gotten for him, Logan slid his thumb all the way in.

Gentle strokes to the back of your tongue was all the instruction you needed. You hollowed out your cheeks and began to suck as he pumped his finger in and out in a agonizingly slow motion. This action somehow both shut off your brain and fired all of it's synapses simultaneously.

"Now that's a good girl." His low, rough voice continued to fill the air with praises as you salivated around his digit. Logan was a man of few words, but he'd run his mouth nonstop about inane nonsense if it meant he could keep you here like this. He couldn't help but feel this way, you were being so good for him.

It was all so was maddening. Didn't he know how frustrating this was for you? Of course, the man knew. He could hear in your pulse, smell it in your perspiration. The sillage of the arousal between your legs was the most prominent as it wafted around him. Knowing that you are just as crazy about him as he is about you was the only way he could be satisfied. Logan figured now was the perfect time to take things a step further.

"Your mouth feels so good, sweetheart," he cooed through steady breaths. "Wanna taste the real thing?"

Your jaw dropped a little and your eyes widened. This was getting too real too fast. Fantasies were crossing over into reality and the excitement was almost too much. Your heart was now pounding against your ribcage.

Logan was gazing at you with soft eyes, pupils blown out to their fullest extent as he awaited your answer. You couldn't say no to him when he was looking like this. No longer were you going to let your nerves stop you from getting what you truly wanted. Especially when the thing you wanted was pressing into the underside of your thigh.

You nodded with his thumb still in your mouth. He drew it out with a string of spit gradually stretching until it broke apart. The same hand then held you by the jaw and pulled you into a kiss. Every muscle in your body seemed to give out. You had no choice but to lean into him, palms pressed into his solid chest.

The exchange was hungry, wet. Way sloppier than he has ever kissed you before and it caught you a bit off guard. He took turns between sucking at your top and bottom lip. You let him take what he needed while you savored the taste of him- faint flavors of cigars and whiskey. So decadent, so Logan.

"Tell me, baby," He used his grip on you to pull you back so he could admire your swollen lips, slicked from his own mouth. To him you were the most gorgeous like this, when you looked like something that was his. Logan's breath was hot againt your face. "Need to know how bad you want it."

"Please, I..." you trailed off trying to find the right words. You've never spoken your desires out loud for anybody to hear like this before. "I need it, Lo. Please let me taste you."

"Hmm..." Logan mockingly looked to the side as pretended to think about your request, like he somehow had pros and cons to weigh about having your lips wrapped around his cock. Then he clicked his tongue. "How can I say no to my girl when she asks so sweetly. Of course you can, baby."

He connected your lips to his again, tongue unabashedly exploring your mouth. So warm and velvety, Logan couldn't believe you were about to use it for his pleasure. You gathered your bearings and kissed him back, matching his fervor. It wouldn't be surprising if the nicotine and alcohol was getting into your bloodstream this way.

His hands found the dip in your hips as he lifted you up. You squealed as Logan placed you exactly where he wanted you- on the floor with your back pressed up to the foot of the bed.

You gazed upwards at the man before you. The buldge in his jeans was eye level with you in a way that was honestly a bit intimidating. Shaky hands reached for his belt. Your body was acting with very little input from your brain, so drunk off of him.

Logan's buckle was undone with a clink and you slid his belt out of the denim loops. The way he was watching you with big, dark eyes made you hot with embarrassment. That feeling mixed with the heat between your legs practically melting you into a puddle on his floor.

After popping the top button and unzipping his pants, the material fell to his ankles. His cock was straining against the cotton of his boxers. You notice a damp patch around where the head is. Without thinking, you leaned forward and closed your mouth around the clothed tip. Logan tasted better than you expected; rich and heady, sweet and salty. You were desperately sucking the precum out of the fabric, already addicted to the taste.

"Such a dirty little tease," Logan groaned, gaze never departing from the look of mindless bliss on your face. "Couldn't even wait to undress me to get a taste."

In an unexpected move, he pulled you back with a hand on your neck and yanked his boxers down with the other. His cock swung around from the momentum, casting a shadow over you.

Logan held himself by the base, rubbing the cockhead across your bottom and top lips. His arousal was speared all over your mouth "Don't you look so fucking pretty. Think we found you your new favorite lipstick, sweetheart?"

"Mmm hmm," you agreed, the sound vibrating though his length making him shudder.

"Now open up, baby," Logan was practically whining. He was just as deperate at this point. You obey and part your lips.

He slid his cock past your wet, swollen lips. Your tongue ran against the vein on the underside of his cock, the taste of him even stronger now. "That's it, just like that. Doin' so good for me."

The back of your head was cushioned by the edge of the mattress and he shallowly thrust into your mouth. Logan was testing how much of him you could take. The obscene symphony of you slurping and gagging around his dick was more than enough to make him lose his mind. He wiped a tear streaming down your cheek away with his thumb.

You push your head forward, bringing him into your throat. Logan would be happy with anything you were willing to give. Still, you felt the need to prove yourself to him, make him proud. You were demonstrating how you would chose his cock over air. With each loud, deep groan from the man above you, you took him in deeper.

"M'gonna... fuck," his hips quivered and his voice was faltering. You knew what that meant- soon you would get the reward for all your hard work.

"I'm almost there. Can I please cum in your mouth, sweetheart?" Logan reached down to push the hair out of your face. All you could do is look up at him through your watery vision- eye contact acting as a silent permission. While panting sequences of please, please, baby, please, he pushed himself to the back of your throat.

Rope after rope of his hot, thick spend filled your mouth. Some of it slid down your throat causing you to cough around his cock, making a mess of the both of you. Logan rode out his high with a few more additional thrusts before gently pulling out.

"On the bed, c'mon," he lifted you up and made you sit on the edge of the mattress. There, he stood between your legs and began lapping up all the excess cum on your face. Your mind was so clouded by arousal, all you could do was pathetically whine at the sensation.

"Shh, shh..." Logan reassured you between tender kisses, delighting in the taste of himself on you. "Don't worry, sweet thing. I'll make sure you are taken care of."

He starting to knead at your breasts through your shirt, feeling your heart beat fast in your chest. "You're gonna let me make you feel good, aren't ya?"

"Yes, Lo. Please," your words were barely audible through airy gasps.

He didn't waste another second removing your top. If Logan was able to rewind this moment and watch it over, he would be embarrassed by the groans slipping so easily from his lips. The anticipation of finally being able to feel you, to worship you- it was almost too much.

To take out his excess frustration, Logan started attacking you with his mouth. He licked, sucked, and bit from jugular to your sternum like he was trying to eat you alive. All while snaking his hands around your back to unclasp your bra. Marks were already blooming across your chest. No one could deny who you belonged to now.

Your nipples wound themselves into tight buds from the sudden exposure to air. Rough palms warmed them up again as he desperately groped at you. You let out a long moan when you felt him roll your nipples between his calloused fingertips.

"Sensitive, huh?" Logan exhaled into your neck, "just how I knew they'd be."

He trailed sloppy kisses down to your breasts, marking the mounds with the signature of his mouth. His warm tongue swirled around your hardened bud as the hand it replaced trailed lower.

Logan was completely gone at this point, suckling at your tits like it was the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of his long life. You felt his teeth graze the sensitive area and you threw your head back in response. Every whimper and mewl was music to his ears.

His love bites almost distracted you from the palm underneath your skirt groping your thigh. Logan's hand was brought to the front of your mind when his fingers grazed the damp crotch of your panties.

"Got this wet just from sucking my cock? What a needy little thing. It's okay, it's all yours now, sweetheart. I'm all yours." He incoherently rambled with your tit in his mouth, "don't you worry 'bout a damn thing, baby."

He slid his hand under the waistband of your panties, palm now flush against your wet, hot cunt. You squirmed in his grasp, overstimulated from having your breasts and pussy worked at the same time. A finger rubbed circles around your enterence before dipping into the quivering hole.

Logan's mouth was still sucking and biting your flesh raw until your entire chest was flushed. The scratch of his beard only made it more intense. You glistened under the low light from a mixture sweat and saliva coating your complexion. He pumped a single finger in and out of you, losing control of the pace. You squeezed around him when he crooked the digit, swiping your sweet spot with every thrust.

Your arousal was all but leaking down to his wrist as he inserted another finger, fucking you knuckle-deep with his hand. He could tell you were close by the way you were scratching at his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life.

"C'mon, let it out. Be a good girl and let it all go for me." Logan groaned into your chest while you grinded your hips onto his hand. He didn't stop or slow down when your legs violently shook around him. The pressure building in your gut was about to burst.

The wind was completely knocked out of you as you came. "Breathe, baby, breathe," he coaxed you through your high. Your windpipe opened again and you gasped for air, shocks from your orgasm still rippling through you.

A lewd, wet noise sounded out as he slipped his fingers out of you. Logan brought them to his mouth, closing his eyes and moaning from the taste. He met your lips with his and the swirl of flavors from eachother was unlike anything you ever tasted. There was no way you wouldn't be thinking about the taste the next day, craving it's decadence until you got your next fix.

Logan kissed and held you throughout the night. From here on out, he didn't want to make it to another morning without you in his arms. That was where you belonged and that was where he'd make sure you stayed.

Fin.

#I didn't plan to make this so damn long oops #I also didn't plan to spend over a month working on it but here we are. hope you enjoy.#Wolverine fanfic #Wolverine x reader #Logan Howlett fanfic #Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett smut #Logan Howlett fluff

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pasaatimonarkin · 5 months ago

Text

No crying in the Burlesque club | part 1

Han Jisung x reader ft. OT8 Stray kids

Mafia!au

Warnings: cursing, guns, mentions of blood, cursing, sexual language.

Word count: 3,9k

Part 2

Han and Seungmin were on their assigned mission in a Burlesque club. Red dragons - their rival - had been spotted planning on an attack in there. The owner had unpaid debt, and they were going to come collect it. Strays didn't care for the owner's wellbeing. They wanted to stop the attack and benefit from it by abducting one of the members. Red dragons would possibly hold information on a race they were going to attend.

"Never been to a burlesque club before" Seungmin said as he sat down before a table that was right next to the stage, there they would have the best vision on what was going on at the club. Han who was sitting next to him patted him on the shoulder "You should enjoy the show then, it's not every day we get assigned for a mission in this kind of place". Seungmin rolled his eyes as Han grinned.

The club wasn't stacked full but had enough of people that spotting the red dragon's members might not be easy. Seungmin and Han had to keep their eyes open, always scanning the place.

"You think they are going to strike once the performance starts?"

"Probably...Sad, I would have wanted to enjoy the show" Han fake pouted at Seungmin. "You sound like Hyunjin. Except that he probably would be the one entering the stage".

"Wouldn't be surprised by that" Han smiled shortly, straightening his black leather jacket and putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans, feeling his gun under his right hand. Seungmin twirled a small knife under the table between his hands whilst looking around. It was a Thursday evening which would explain the lack of people. The audience was mostly old rich men coming to watch under dressed women so they would have something to jerk off to. There rarely were people who watched just for the sake of enjoying the performance.

You were one of those not so lucky people that were eye candy for those middle-aged men. You loved to dance and sing but mostly perform. Burlesque wasn't your cherry on top choice as your career, but it was the best and pretty much the only place for you to be able to live up to that dream. You didn't have the money to go to other cities for auditions and castings. Those would cost thousands of dollars.

So, there you were, sitting at the makeup desk fixing you hair and makeup before stepping to the stage to perform. As you stood up you checked your outfit. You had on a champagne-colored strapless bodysuit that was full of diamonds with big, long white feathers hanging from the bottom of it. To match the outfit, you had a diamond feather pin on the side of your head, keeping that side of you long, curled brown hair off your face.

"Ey Dolly, you're up in three minutes!" Your boss shouted from the hall. "Gotcha" you responded and tiptoed your way onto the stage. You were on bare feet this time as your performance was supposed to be soft and elegant. The stage was almost pitch black as it was covered with big red curtains. There was a big human size bird cage with a ring inside the middle of it. That's where you would sit for the beginning of the performance before stepping down and starting to dance.

You hopped and climbed on the ring then making the final adjusts to your hair and outfit. Waiting for the curtains to open and music to start. Your heart was beating, and you took a deep breath. No matter how much you loved it and how many times you had performed already, it always caught you off guard how much you it still made you nervous - but only at the beginning. Once you would start, the stress was gone and replaced with adrenaline.

Han and Seungmin hadn't chatted much while waiting to not lose focus. For now, there had been no signs of any red dragon members, and they started to think whether the tip they got of the attack was fake.

Their attention shifted to the stage as the curtains started to open and a bright spotlight pointed at the middle of the stage where you were sitting, your head hanging low, looking at the floor. People were waiting for the music but instead a bomb exploded in the back of the audience sending the tables and chairs, even some people in the air. You let out a scream as the shock wave dropped you on the floor. Luckily you were able to catch yourself with your arms and landed on your stomach. You winced once making contact with the floor. As you were trying to stand up and run away, another bomb exploded now closer to the stage and before you could move away the huge bird Cage fell on your legs. You screamed in pain and squinted your eyes. It felt like all your legs' bones were crushed. Tears filled your eyes immediately.

As the first bomb went off, Han and Seungmin flew down on their backs with the chairs. Without hesitation they both stood up quickly and ran to the bar behind them. They easily climbed over the bar counter and took shelter behind it. "What the fuck was that?" Han cursed and took the gun in his hands. Before Seungmin could answer, the other bomb went off. The men shielded themselves in case something was going to fly on them. After the shock wave went past them Seungmin stood up and eyed the place. The whole club was destroyed. All the chairs and tables were in pieces and there were small fire spots everywhere. Most people were screaming and running to the stairs that would lead outside, but some laid on the ground either trying to crawl or stayed down - probably unconscious or dead.

Sounds of guns shooting echoed from the top of the stairs followed with people screaming and running back down. "They're here~" Han sang and grinned, loading his gun and pointing at the stairs. This was the kind of action he liked. Seungmin followed him and was ready to shoot, expecting there to be around five red dragon members. Instead running down the stairs came 20 probably almost 30 armed men with black masks on - and they were not red dragon's members.

"Shit. We need to go" Seungmin said and motioned Han to start moving for the back exit where other people were also making their way. No way they could handle them all without proper pieces of equipment – and rest of Stray’s members.

People ran across the stage to the emergency exit screaming in horror. You looked on your left and saw a big group of men with guns running and spreading across the club, shooting people and looking for something. You tried to cry for help, but no one stayed to do that. You couldn't move, the cage was too heavy and pinned your legs against the floor tightly.

One of the gun men came to the stage and pointed his gun at you. "No no no, please-" you shouted and squinted your eyes as a gunshot was fired - but you didn't feel anything. You opened one eye to see the man lying on the floor while another man – in leather jacket and long black hair hanging open - stood behind him, putting his gun away. He raised his gaze from him to you and noticed your legs.

"Seungmin, lift the cage, I’ll pull her out" he said, and another black-haired man appeared behind him. They ran to you and crouched down.

"Give me your hands" the long-haired man said, and you did as told. He grabbed onto your wrists and nodded to Seungmin.

"Okay, 1-2-3!" Seungmin shouted and lifted the cage enough that you were pulled forward and helped up. But you couldn't take any pressure on your legs and screamed in pain. The man holding you quickly lifted you up in his arms. "I'll carry you" he said, more announcing it to himself than reassuring you that you would be helped out of the building.

"Watch out!" You shouted as another two men with their guns approached the stage. The man started to run to the exit with you in his arms as Seungmin pulled out his gun, shooting the men before they could even react, then following you.

Once you three got out, you didn't stop running. "Changbin, come to Gravewell street, the small alley, we have a casualty who needs to be taken to a hospital...I'll tell you later just come quick" Seungmin spoke to his earpiece. You had no idea who these men were but frankly you didn't really care, they were helping you.

You turned to an alley and stopped. The men were breathing heavily, and you were gently lowered on the asphalt. "That was a terrorist attack, not Red dragons!" Seungmin shouted. "I wonder whether the tip guy tricked us, or Red dragons have made some twisted-up deal with those guys" The other man replied clearly annoyed.

You heard the men and what they were talking about but didn't internalize a single word. You were in pain and in shock. It felt like knives were sinking into your legs, your head was pounding, and your heart rate was through the roof. Adrenaline was keeping you awake as you thought how close to death you just were. First the cage and then the gun men. You were pulled from your thoughts as a man riding a motorcycle, Changbin as you heard them call him, turned up to the alley, next to the man in leather jacket.

"What happened?" Changbin asked as he opened his visor. "There were bombs inside that exploded and the men coming in were not Red dragon members. There was about 30 heavily armed men". The leather jacket man answered and sounded angry.

Changbin didn't answer, seemed like deep in thought until his eyes wandered to you. Seungmin noticed that and cleared his throat. "This is..." he said and looked at you, not knowing your name. You looked back and were thinking what he said and was about to open your mouth to speak but the other man spoke first. "It doesn't matter what's her name. She crushed her legs and needs to be taken To a hospital" the other man interrupted.

"And in what part is that my Job?"

"Don't be an asshole and just do so" Seungmin said and lifted you to sit on the motorcycle behind Changbin. You wanted to protest on it but decided not to, you just wanted to get to the hospital and away from these people who had guns. Changbin sighed, but his visor down and started up the motorcycle. "Hold tight" he said over his shoulder and before you could react, he stepped on the gas and you quickly gripped onto his jacket.

As you were speeding down the road you felt like crying. You were in pain, not knowing what was happening and couldn't understand what happened down at the club. It all happened so fast. You also were sitting on a motorcycle with a man you didn’t know and trust that he was going to take you to hospital. Suddenly a bullet flew right next your ear and then another. "Someone's shooting at us!" you yelled at the man and tightened your grip on his jacket, so tight that your knuckles turned white. He looked at the side mirror and saw a black SUV speeding behind you two. A man was shooting at your direction from the rooftop. "Hold onto my waist and crouch down" he shouted and you did as ordered hugging him from behind and lowering yourself as much as possible. He took a gun from his waist and while driving turned to shoot at the car at the same time speaking to his earpiece.

"Red dragons are chasing me" he yelled and shoot another bullet their way before turning back and planning on a route to lose the SUV. You raised your head but didn't loosen your grip on him. He sped up and slalomed through the other cars on the road. It was already dark and there wasn’t much traffic, so the SUV lingered behind you. All you could think was that you were going to die right there and then.

Bullets were flying past you, and you dared to look over your shoulder. The SUV was getting closer and soon the man on the rooftop could easily shoot you dead. Until the car wasn’t moving closer anymore and started to swerve before hitting the curb and crashing. A black Mercedes car behind it speeded over to you and you could see that it was the other two men.

"Change of plans. Chan called; she needs to be brought to our place" the leather jacket man shouted from the open window. Holding a gun that he used to shoot the SUV’s back tires. "What? No- no I need to see a doctor and I’m not coming with you guys" you yelled in disbelief. Don’t even take me to a hospital just drop me here and I’ll crawl rather than come with you guys.

"Sorry sweetheart but you can either jump off the motorcycle - which I doubt you will survive from - or be a good girl and come with us. Besides we also have a doctor there" he winked, and the car sped up past you and merged to your lane in front of you. You scoffed in disbelief but couldn’t do other than just sit there and hope you weren’t being kidnapped by some insane men.

You arrived at a huge mansion like house through a metal gate. The house had three floors, at least from the looks of it. It was dark grey with few windows. Once you stopped at the entrance you realized how nauseous and dizzy you felt. "I'm gonna throw up"

"Not on me or the bike!" Changbin shouted and turned to look at you. The leather jacket man came from their car and walked to you. He came just in time as you didn't throw up but lost your conscious and the last thing you felt was his hands around you as you fell from the motorcycle.

"Wakey, wakey".

You woke up to a man speaking, lingering on top of you and pointing his flashlight at your eyes. You fluttered your eyes open, and he put the light away.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better than before" you said yawning, sitting up on the bed that you had been put in. You looked down at your legs and saw that your right leg had a cast on to the middle of your shin and left leg had a huge bandage.

"You had broken your right ankle. Your left leg had to fractions just a big cut. Nothing big considering what fell on you" he said, noticing you staring at your legs.

"You know?"

"Han told me when he carried you here"

So, the leather jacket man was called Han.

You eyed the room. It was like a hospital operating room with big lights on top of the bed and the dark blue walls with big cupboards full of medical equipment. But you knew you weren't in a hospital, and that's all you knew.

"Where am I?"

"I'll leave that explanation for our boss to tell. Here, take this". He handed you a tablet and a glass of water. You took them and looked between them and the man. "Don't worry, it's just paracetamol, to help with the pain" he sneered. "I'm Lee know by the way".

"I'm y/n" you said before chugging the tablet. You weren't feeling any pain, some heavy painkillers had probably been pushed to your system while you were out of it. The man was putting dirty wound care stuff to a big trash can. He had short black hair and a big white doctor's coat. He looked like he would pass as a real doctor, maybe he was one?

You gave the glass back to Lee know and nodded as a thank you. "What do you mean with 'boss'? Who are you guys?".

He opened his mouth to speak but pursed his lips together.

"Let me guess, the boss is going to tell?" You rolled your eyes and sighed, annoyed that you only had questions but no answers.

Lee know smiled awkwardly and picked two walking sticks from the floor, handing them to you. "You should go meet him. I'll escort you"

You took the sticks and landed on your left leg which held just well. Behind Lee know you started to make your way hopping to meet this much talked boss. After the hospital room, as you named it, opened a long hall, the walls were dark brown wood and floor was light grey. It gave a cottage vibe but with 'rich' written all over it. There was a big crystal Chandelier hanging from the ceiling, for example.

"Whoa" you gasped when turning from the hall. You entered to an enormous hallway with another big but even bigger crystal chandelier, marble floor and stairs, marble everything.

"You coming?" Lee know called out as you didn't realize you had stopped and stood still, looking around with your mouth hung open. "Are you guys like royal or something?".

Lee know let out a small snicker "Yeah, far from that”. He started walking ahead again and you tried to follow fast. He opened you a wooden door and you stepped into an office looking room. He closed the door behind you. In front of you was an office desk and behind it sat a black-haired man.

"Christopher" you gasped and almost fell backwards with shock.

"It's Chan now" he said with a low voice that sent chills down your spine. You hadn't heard that voice for many years and never thought you would hear it again.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that. Your friends or whatever were the ones that brought me here, after you told them to!"

"I mean, what are you doing in Los Angeles? You were supposed to stay in New York"

"What do you mean was supposed to? You never said that to me". Like I would remember, I was 6 when you left.

"I told mom that she must not let you move"

Before you could answer back, Han who had been standing in the corner spoke " Wait, are you siblings?" He asked confused.

"Half!" You and Chan spoke in unison, not breaking eye contact. That was enough clue for Han not to say another word.

"She never said anything, and I don't see the issue with me moving here. Is it because of you? Because you never wanted to see me again?"

"It's not that, y/n" he sighed quietly and picked his phone from the office table, tapping something and placing it over his ear "I'm going to call her-"

"Don't bother, she's dead" you said bluntly without thinking much but regret washed over you once you saw Chan's face. It wasn't just your mom it was his too. You had gotten over her death years ago but to him the news was brand new. If you knew better, you would have said that more delicately.

He put the phone back on the table and just looked at you, his face softened but still remained stern and eyes glimmered in the light, but he didn't cry. He thought about your words but didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have burst it out like that, I know-"

"Stop talking" his voice was low as he spoke. "It doesn't matter. But since you are here, you got hurt and your face was seen by our enemies, you are staying in here."

"No, I'm not, I appreciate your 'doctor' or whoever for taking care of me but I’m going home. And what do you mean by enemies? Are you guys a mafia or something?"

"Han may tell you later and you are staying"

"But -"

"I order you to" he raised his voice at you and you were taken back at how he talked to you like to a nobody. What had happened to the happy and cheerful Christopher who used to play with you, who you could talk to about everything. He felt cold, distant and almost like a stranger. You bit your lower lip and thought about what to do. You knew you would lose the fight if you insisted on leaving but you also didn't want to stay.

"Han, take her to the guest room. I'll talk about the situation with the members later" he said shifting his eyes to look at Han who was standing still in the corner.

He nodded and walked to you, motioning to you to get up. You did so and picked the walking sticks. Before leaving, you took your last long look at Chan who didn't look at you but kept his eyes on the table.

“So” Han spoke once you left the room. “Chan has a sister, who would have thought”, he walked next to you with his hands behind him and looked at you. You stopped at the beginning of the stairs. “Half, you remember that” you said and looked at Han’s eyes. For some reason his gaze made you very aware of how you were almost naked. You still only had your bodysuit on, with small stumps of feathers hanging from it.

“I remember. I wouldn’t stare at his whole sister when she’s almost naked” he smirked and eyed your body. Your eyes widened. The audacity of this man, you thought. “Just because I have my legs fucked up right now, doesn’t mean I can’t kick you in the nuts you creep”.

“Wow sweetie, no need to get heated up” he acted hurt and put his hand on his heart. “Don’t bark at the man who saved your ass”.

“I own you that I have to admit” you sighed and looked around. “So, where is the guest room?”.

“Right there” Han pointed at the stairs. Of course, the room would be upstairs. That way it would probably be easier to keep eye on you, you couldn’t escape quietly as you would roll down the stairs if trying to get down fast.

“Well great. Tell me, how am I supposed to get up there without killing myself?” I asked and looked up at the stairs. If they weren’t as long and made from, I don’t know, not marble!? It wouldn’t be a big problem. Han didn’t answer but wrapped his arm around your waist and the other arm behind your knees and lifted you up, your breath got stuck in your throat. “It’s like I’ve become your personal carrier” he sneered as you looked at him shocked, still holding onto your walking sticks. You didn’t know what to answer. He had his bad boy charm piercing into you like a needle and you couldn’t help but feel your heart start pounding. “I know I’m handsome, but we need to make up some rules. If I can’t stare at you, you can’t stare at me” Han said pretending to be all serious and started walking up the stairs. “Haha, funny” you just said quietly and started looking forwards.

“We are going to have so much fun”.

If you only knew what was ahead…

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cookiqueen13 · 1 year ago

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Headcanons and details I noticed in Trolls!

Rest of the post under read more cause it’s kinda long⬇️

TROLL ANATOMY

Troll tongues are the same/a similar color to their noses. Their gums and mouths are similar colors to their skin. On a morbid note, this means there’s a possibility that whatever internal organs they have are also colorful.

Trolls have sparkly/rainbow blood. This is probably just a gag/censorship joke but it isn’t a far-fetched idea.

POWERS/SPECIAL ABILITIES

Trolls can use music as a force. In Trolls 3, they use the Family Harmony to break the diamond. In Trolls 2, the Rock trolls can destroy things and hurt people with their music. Queen Essence seems to create a wave/boom using a tuba. Chaz uses his Jazz to hypnotize people and make them hallucinate. Trolls may also have the ability to use music to fight. In a deleted scene from Trolls 2, the Classical trolls and Rock trolls fight using their instruments and voices. In another deleted scene, the Yodelers cause a building to fall apart by yodeling.

Trolls have special adaptations to their specific kingdoms. Rock trolls are heat resistant to combat the fact they live in a VOLCANO. Techno trolls have fins and glow to become more visible in dark water. Country trolls are tough, built for long distance running and work. Pop trolls have advanced hair manipulation to navigate and hide in trees. Classical trolls have wings to safely travel in the mountains/clouds. And idk about Funk trolls💀 But Sub-genres are probably adaptable to most situations.

TROLL REPRODUCTION

Trolls can reproduce sexually and asexually. When 2 different trolls reproduce, the resulting offspring will share traits from both parents. Asexual reproduction results in offspring that have extremely similar traits to the parent or a total clone. Both female and male trolls can produce and incubate eggs. Reproduction can happen from physical contact😏 AND/OR extreme feelings of love/connection. The extreme feeling can be for a partner or just a feeling in general. This would explain how Bruce and Brandy were able to hybridize so well despite being different sizes and species. Guy Diamond mentions how he, “Didn’t know his heart could be so full.” I interpret this as Tiny Diamond coming from the love inside his father’s heart.

EFFECT ON OTHERS

Different trolls have different tastes and effects. As we know, Pop trolls, (when eaten), make the user very happy. But what do they taste like? I imagine they would be overwhelmingly sweet, like candy or cake fondant. Rock trolls would have a spice or bitterness to them and give the user a feeling of aggressiveness or hype. (Kinda like steroids💀). Classical trolls would be buttery and sweet and make the user feel satisfaction or bliss. Techno trolls would taste sweet and sour/citrusy and give the user a major energy boost/sugar rush. Country trolls would taste savory or smoky like BBQ or a home-cooked meal, giving the user a feeling of coziness or nostalgia. Funk trolls would have a mainly tangy/sweet flavor with an underlying spice. The user would feel a general feeling of liveliness or fun.

Trolls 3 introduces more exploitation of trolls in the form of talent stealing. Velvet and Veneer use Floyd to sing Pop music. I imagine that using a troll of a different genre gives the user talent and musical ability in that trolls genre.

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls world tour #trolls headcanons #world building #headcanon #speculation #theory

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baronessvonglitter · 7 months ago

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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 8 🍒

"Fooled Around and Fell in Love"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 1,807

Summary: a mini getaway brings you closer to Joel, and you reach a new level of your budding relationship.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), adult language, brief mention of someone unaliving herself (told in a local legendary tale), breast/nipple play, thigh riding, hand job, mutual confessions of love, reader's race not mentioned, takes place in summer 2003, no use of y/n

Author’s Note: I admit I don't know much about the terrain of Austin that well, but Mount Bonnell is real as is the Colorado River, so any mistakes are my own and purely for fictional purposes anyway. The legend that Joel tells the reader is very loosely based on a story my grandfather told me when I was a kid. I once went on a date with a guy who took me to a cemetery because he thought it was a romantic place, and that gave me the idea for Joel telling that downer story lol. If I missed any tags please let me know!

Series Masterlist

You're on cloud fucking nine.

No one has ever made you feel this way, as if you're brand-new, abundant with promise, with new chances. The little moments you spend with Joel are marked upon your young heart. And you do spend little moments together: he comes by the cafe for coffee before work or after, and the times you hang out with Sarah at the Miller house, you find that Joel hangs out as well, adding himself as an awkward part of the group, until Sarah asks him to leave. You have to hide your smile when he leaves, or risk your secret being blown.

One late Saturday afternoon he picks you up from work in his truck. It's a June night in the Texas hill country, and the sun sets its last golden rays of the day down upon the deep green hills on the horizon. The windows are down, radio blasting Neil Diamond tunes, especially since Joel has turned you on to his music. One of his hands is on the steering wheel and the other is in your lap. You trace the lines in the roughness of his palms, trace each broad finger, wonderingly, and when you look up you see the effect you have on him. Joel is turned on by any little way you touch him.

"Where are we going?" you ask, though honestly you could be driving to Hell itself and it would be just fine with you.

"Just wanna be alone with you for a little bit, sweetheart. Is that okay?" He looks over at you and you know you can't resist those deep brown eyes, the way the lines around them crinkle when he smiles.

"Fuck yeah," you grin, eliciting a wide smile from him.

He drives you up to Mount Bonnell, where you've never been, and your heart gallops to think that you're finally going to be alone with him. He drives you about halfway then insists on hiking the rest of the way.

"Joel, I've been on my feet all day," you pretend to pout at his suggestion.

"I'll carry you if I have to," he says with a wicked gleam in his eye. "But I do want you to see the view from up there." He offers his hand and you take it without delay.

Even though there's almost a twenty year age difference between you, you notice that Joel is quite agile, but you keep up with him, laughing at the freedom of the moment. His hand rests on your lower back when you slow down, and brings you close to his side, stopping for you to have a drink of water. "The view will be worth it, I promise," he says in that deep drawl you love so much.

And when you do reach the top, wiping the sweat from your forehead with your arm, the view takes your breath away. The evening sky is azure, with pink and violet cotton candy clouds stretching to infinity, and the earth touched with tinges of tangerine. Below, the Colorado River flows serenely. You and Joel stare in wonder: you watch the view and he watches you. His hand is in yours, and he pulls you close for an embrace. "It's gorgeous," you say at last.

"Not as gorgeous as you," he says with a twinkle in his eye. He leads you to sit upon a rock in the shade of an oak tree. "There's a legend about this place, that in the 1830s there was a young woman who leapt to her death to avoid being captured by men who'd killed her fiance."

You raise your head from where you'd been leaning on his shoulder. "That's actually pretty sad."

He nods solemnly. "Yeah.. I maybe should've saved that story for later."

You giggle and elbow him. "You really know how to ruin a romantic mood, old-timer."

"So you admit you're having a romantic time?" He brings his lips to your ear.

"I was," you retort.

"How can I remedy that?"

"Ten grand would do it, for my mental anguish," you continue the banter.

"Your check's in the mail," he says, his lips now on the soft part of your neck below your ear.

You let his kisses travel down your neck, giggling lightly at ticklish feel of his mustache on your sensitive skin. His hands wander across your chest, gently lifting your shirt to find the satin-smooth cups of your bra. Your breath hitches and your eyes flutter shut despite the stunning view before you. His fingers dip beneath your bra, his thumb grazing your nipples, softly teasing them to hardness. When you sigh he catches your lips in a kiss, his tongue tasting your mouth as your arms wrap around his neck. Your hand encourages his own under your shirt, and he squeezes your breast, eliciting a moan from your sweet lips.

A sudden rainstorm sweeps through, starting to soak both of you.

"Truck," you say breathlessly, both of you scrambling to your feet to get back to the vehicle. You shriek when he lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he brings you to the truck. Once inside, you're both wet, but you don't care, reaching for each other again in the dry safety of the truck that's become your only getaway for your secret romance.

In a blur of lust you take off your damp shirt, reveling in the carnivorous look on Joel's face. Next come off your shorts, and Joel's breathing becomes all but labored. Just in your panties and bra you kiss him, slowly, savoring his taste as his hands grip your waist. "I need you," you moan, and the excitement between you becomes electric. You climb onto his lap, writhing against him.

The rain beats down on the truck as the two of you discover each other, tasting the raindrops on each others' skin. Joel's shirt is off, his jeans pulled down. "There's something I want ya to do for me," he says.

A thousand thoughts come to mind. It could be anything. "And that would be..?"

"Take off your panties. I want to feel you, hot and wet on my thigh while I suck your nipples."

He has a way of saying things that make your insides light up, your cunt clenching as if he's already in there.

He holds you close, his large hands roaming your waist and your hips. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," you whisper. Keeping your eyes on him you remove your panties, sliding the fabric down your legs, tossing them to the floor of the truck. His hungry gaze goes to the V where your thighs meet, and he guides you to his thigh, groaning when your hot wet cunt settles on his skin. You feel why he would like this, and begin to move a little to ease the ache he's built up in you. He lets you do as you wish, whatever makes you feel good.

"That's good," he whispers his seductive encouragement. "Just rub yourself on me, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on me."

Your eyes close and with your arms around his neck you move, seeking that friction on your clit that will make you see stars. And just as you get into a nice rhythm Joel reaches behind you and deftly removes your bra, gently moving the straps down your arms as you drop them to your sides. When he uncovers your breasts his breath hitches. He cups them in both his wide palms, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples as he did earlier, and bringing his lips to each puckered pebble, then lapping his tongue over one while softly tweaking the other, testing your limits, grazing your delicate flesh with his teeth. The faster you move the harder he pulls at you, his hands splayed on your back, keeping you pressed to him.

You palm him through his underwear, familiarizing his shape with your hands. His girth and length are intimidating, but in this moment you don't have to worry about taking him inside of you. Not yet. You stroke him as he removes himself from his briefs, loving the groans he makes, the way his cock seems to grow harder by the second, jerking under your touch. You use the beads of precum on his tip to lubricate him, caressing him with longer, stronger strokes.

The car windows fog up with the steam of your gasps and sighs. You grab at the back of his head, cradling it to you as he continues worshipping your breasts.

"Joel! Joel!" you whisper his name in a frenzy of euphoria, and then his thumb is on your clit, pressing gently, flicking, moving with you until you come, hips twitching as you convulse. At the same time you feel him come, his semen spilling over onto your hand, thick and warm. He smiles when he feels you've also left your own traces on his skin.

In those hazy moments after, you rest your head on his chest and he kisses your hair. The small space of the truck is scented with your musk and sweat. It's peaceful, and you feel closer to him than ever. Though you haven't technically had sex yet, you feel your innocence being chipped away at, and it's exciting. For the first time you're in control of what you do.

"You can't be real," he says, his voice breaking the silence that blankets you both. "You gotta be some fantasy that I dreamed up, or some kinda angel."

"I am. You died and this is heaven," you joke, kissing his neck.

You don't even hurry to get dressed. The rain has slowed to a drizzle but there's no rush for you to leave.

"You comin' over tonight? Thought maybe we could watch a movie.. you, me, and Sarah."

"Really? I'd like that." You love the sweetness he has after the intense passion you've just shared.

"I gotta drop you off at your car. Once I'm able to catch my breath, and once I've got feelin' back in my legs I'll drive you back."

You chuckle, kissing along his collarbone. "But what if I'm not done with you yet?" Oh, the scent of his skin drives you wild.

"Jesus, sweetheart," he chuckles low. "I think I love you.."

You look up quickly, your body buzzing with excitation, disbelief daring to poison the beautiful night you've just had. "You.. what?"

His eyes are soft as he cups your face, gently brushes your hair from your face. He studies every feature, committing everything to memory. "I. Love. You." He emphasizes each word with a kiss: on your forehead, nose, lips.

It's the first time you've ever heard it said to you, and the first time you've ever felt it right to say it back. "Joel Miller, I love you too.."

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divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #joel smut #joel tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro boys #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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cherryblossomcowgirl · 2 days ago

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The Bodyguard part 2

WC: 2.5k

TW: age gap; angst; mentions of weapons; FLUFF; more angst; unrequited feelings; mentions of virginity

*1 week later*

I sleep past Pilates, waking up feeling down on my 25th birthday. When I walk into the kitchen, Jake is at the breakfast table with a chess board sitting in front of him. “What’s this?” Jake’s green eyes pierce mine, “Happy birthday, Ms. Y/l/n.” My eyes water and I turn to make my coffee, “You play?” “No ma’am, you’ll have to teach me.” “Only if you never call me ma’am again. Already feeling old today.” He smirks, “Noted.” I sit down across from him, explaining the rules. Each game he gets better. By the 6th game, he actually beats me. There’s a knock at the door and Jake runs over, looking through the peephole. His body stiffens, he opens the door and carries in huge vase filled with roses. He sets it down and I read the card.

Happy birthday, darling.

I’m sorry I’m not there to celebrate with you.

Thinking about you.

xx,

Glen

I smile and set the card down. Yet I notice that there is no warmth spreading through me. Not like how it does when Jake is near me. Jake rolls his eyes, “Seems a bit excessive.” I sigh, “Yeah. It’s what my Dad does too. Did you see what he sent me?” He shakes his head and I walk over to the kitchen. Pulling out a large Tiffany’s box, I show him the diamond necklace and earrings. The necklace is a round, solitaire diamond on a dainty chain and the earrings match. Jake’s eyebrows raise, “Wow.” I close up the box and set it next to the roses, “I should be happy, right?” He stands beside me, staring at the gifts, “Are you?” Tears fill my eyes, “No. Neither of them called… or even sent a text.” In a completely out of character moment, Jake’s hand rests in my shoulder. A comfortable silence surrounds us as a fluttering feeling touches my heart. Butterflies? Butterflies from Jake? Butterflies that I have never felt before? The warmth pools in my stomach again and a tear falls down my cheek. He brushes it away with his thumb, “Ms. Y/l/n, I have another surprise for you.” Jake grabs my hand and leads me into the living room. There’s candy, popcorn, and a copy of the Sound of Music on the coffee table. The fluttering feeling touches my heart again as I sit beside him on the couch, “You did this?” He nods and pops the DVD in. I chuckle, “Your age is showing. You could’ve just rented it on my Amazon Prime.” “Ms. Y/l/n, you can’t talk about my age like that anymore. You’re getting up there now, too.” I playfully gasp, “How could you?” He smiles, a real smile, and I take a moment to appreciate it. He nudges me, “Pay attention, the movie is starting.”

Right around 16 going on 17 I doze off. While I am half asleep, I swear Jake is playing with my hair. The credits wake me up and Jake smiles, “You missed it, they escaped in the nick of time.” My voice is groggy, “I’m sorry, l didn’t mean to…” He cuts me off, “It’s okay. I’m gonna start making dinner.” The feeling threatens to touch my heart again, “You’re making dinner?” He nods and heads to the kitchen. I sit at the counter, watching him cook. Jake moves swiftly, with extreme precision. He sets a plate in front of me, steak, broccoli, and mashed potatoes. “Thank you, Mr. Seresin. You really didn’t have to do all of this for me.” He shrugs, “I couldn’t have you being sad on your birthday.” I smile and take a bite of the steak, “I’m happy now. This steak is amazing, by the way.” Jake smiles again and it takes my breath away. I wonder if he knows how handsome he is. How when he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkle in the most adorable way. Once we finish, I head up to change into my pjs. This time a silk set that is black. When I come down, I turn on some trashy reality tv show. He sits beside me, leaving more room than he did before. My phone rings and it is Glen. Jake’s jaw twitches as I answer. “Hi! … No, don’t worry. … Yes I did! Thank you. … It was a really nice day actually. … Oh, okay. … Have fun. See you soon.” Jake’s body is tense, “How is pretty boy?” “He’s good. Going to some after party.” His eyebrow raises, “How do you feel about that?” I shrug, “We technically aren’t … anything. So even if I was jealous, I wouldn’t have any right to be.” Jake smirks, “Okay, sure.” I roll my eyes, “Let me guess, you’re the jealous type?” His eyes meet mine, “I do not share what is mine.” The heat spreads from my stomach all the way to my cheeks, “Does your girlfriend mind that?” He notices my blush and chuckles, “She doesn’t exist. Not a big dating guy.” I look down at my hands, “Me either. Glen is the first guy who has ever really shown interest in me.” His eyebrows raise, “I highly doubt that.” “No one really wants the trouble of dating the President’s daughter.” I head into the kitchen to make tea.

While drinking my tea in my room, I scroll Instagram. Glen is tagged in a million photos of an after party. Models and actresses all around him. He isn’t dancing with them or kissing them, but for some reason it still hurts. I’m just… me. Maybe that’s why it’s never gone further between us, he just knows that I won’t know what I am doing. Sobs escape my mouth, the loneliness of this life hitting me especially hard. There’s a knock on the door, “Ms. Y/l/n, are you okay?” I don’t respond, hoping he’ll leave. Instead, he walks right in. “What’s wrong?” Jake glances at my phone, seeing the photos. He sighs, “Hey, it’s probably nothing.” I shake my head, “You don’t get it. You don’t understand how isolated I have been my whole life! I’m not like those girls and he knows it. That’s probably why he won’t even kiss me!” “Ms. Y/l/n, you are more beautiful than those women. Don’t talk about yourself like that.” I stare at my phone and sigh, “It’s not that. I’ve never been with a man before… in that way. So a guy like him will never want me.” I see something in his eyes that I wasn’t expecting after that admission, understanding. His large hand rubs my back, “If he doesn’t want you then he is an absolute idiot.” We stay like this for a moment, him comforting me until I calm down. I look up at him, “Wait, I thought we weren’t friends.” He sighs, “Okay, I was wrong. You’re not nearly as insufferable as I thought you would be.” “Thank you. You are difficult, but you can also be very kind.”

*1 week later*

There’s a knock on the door and Jake walks over. He sighs, opening it up. “Hey! Is Y/n home?” I walk over, “Glen! You’re back!” He wraps me in a hug, “I missed you so much.” I lead him into the kitchen for coffee, “Really?” He smiles, “Of course, darling. I was thinking about you the whole time.” A smile spreads across my face as I take a sip of coffee. My brain wanders, thinking about while Glen was gone. I thought about him some, but Jake took up way more space in my mind. Guilt washes over me. “Earth to Y/n? You there?” “Sorry. Got lost in my head.” Glen brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, “The book?” I nod, noticing that there isn’t any fluttering or heat. Then, cursing myself for not feeling it. He checks his watch, “Darling, I have a meeting in half an hour. Can we schedule dinner sometime soon?” “Yeah, that would be great.” His eyes flicker between my eyes and my lips. Glen leans in, kissing me gently. It is soft. Sweet. And completely underwhelming. There was no spark. Or excitement. When he pulls back I smile, “See you soon, Glen.” His grin spreads wide, “See ya, darling.” Jake walks him out.

I write the rest of the day and Jake has completely avoided me. I sit across from him while we eat dinner. “Why are you not looking at me?” He looks up from his plate, “I don’t know what you mean.” “Well lately we’ve been friendly, but it seems a cold front has come through.” Jake rolls his eyes. I huff, “Really? Just tell me what’s going on.” He raises an eyebrow, “You don’t seem very giddy for a girl that just got kissed by a movie star.” I shuffle food around on my plate, “Shut up.” He chuckles, “Oh so now you don’t want to talk. What, is he a bad kisser?” I stare at my plate, “It just wasn’t what I was expecting.” “And what was it you were expecting?” My eyes meet his, “A spark. Butterflies. Anything.” “So, none of the above?” I shake my head and he laughs. “Don’t laugh at me!” He stops and his face looks serious, “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because pretty boy walked out of here like a lovestruck little girl.” Guilt washes over me. He shrugs, “Don’t feel bad. He doesn’t deserve you anyways.” I cover my face with my hands, “I am going to die alone.” Jake sets his dishes in the sink and pats my back, “Come on. Let’s watch one of your shitty shows.” We sit down on the couch and I turn on the tv. Part way in to an episode, my phone rings. It’s Glen. I let it go to voicemail. Jake clears his throat, “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” “A few months ago, you were head over heels for this guy. What changed it? Because it has to be more than just the kiss.” I think for a minute. “I started to notice things. His attention always being somewhere else. Gifts instead of quality time. And I never felt heat when I was around him.” He raises an eyebrow, “Have you felt ‘heat’ with anyone before?” Looking down at my hands, I blush, “Yes.” Jake’s jaw twitches, “Then why haven’t you gone out with that guy?” “I can’t.” “Why not?” “He doesn’t feel the same way.” He furrows his brow, “Have you asked him if he does?” “No but I can tell, okay? I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight Mr. Seresin.” He mutters goodnight as I walk up the stairs. I lay awake in my bed, thinking about Jake.

*1 month later*

I wake up covered in sweat. The nightmares have been happening for years, but this one really spooked me. I can’t fall back asleep, so I head downstairs to make tea. Jake runs downstairs in his pajama pants and no shirt, gun by his side. My jaw almost drops to the floor. “Calm down G.I. Joe, it’s just me.” “It’s 2 am! Are you okay?” I take my tea over to the couch, “Yeah, just a bad dream.” He frowns, “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you need anything?” I sigh, “No, just couldn’t fall back asleep.” He joins me on the couch, “Want to talk about it?” I shake my head. We sit in silence and my phone rings. Glen. Probably out drinking with friends. “What are you gonna do about pretty boy?” I rub my forehead, “I don’t know.” “What are you going to do about mystery man?” “I don’t know, okay!” He throws his hands up in surrender, “Hey, I’m just kidding. I’m sorry.” “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just frustrated.” Jake shrugs, “Then just tell the guy. The worst thing that could happen is he says no.” I bury my face in my hands and he rubs my back. I stiffen, “Please don’t touch me right now.” Jake pulls his hand back, looking hurt. Then the realization hits him. “Oh, Ms. Y/l/n are you talking about..” I don’t hear the rest because I run upstairs, shutting myself in my room. Jake follows me upstairs, knocking on my door. “Go away!” “Not until you talk to me.” I wipe my eyes and walk over to the door, opening it a crack. Jake’s face falls when he sees the streaks of tears. He pushes the door open, bringing my head to his chest. I breathe in his cologne. The heat of his body radiates into mine. His heart is beating fast, the complete opposite of that night in the alley. “Ms. Y/l/n, you are amazing. I mean that. But…” “But you don’t feel the same.” His green eyes meet mine with a look of seriousness, “But you’re my client. My job is to protect you. Any distraction puts you at risk and I can’t have that happen.” I step away, “I understand. Goodnight, Mr. Seresin.” He starts to speak but stops himself, walking out of the room. I stare at the ceiling, wishing I could disappear.

*1 week later*

I have been avoiding Jake at all costs. Keeping our conversations short and only about security. I can see that it hurts him, which kills me. When Dad calls, he keeps asking what’s wrong but I don’t know what to say. Oh sorry Dad, I have the hots for my bodyguard? He was annoying at first but he’s actually kind and sweet and strong and looks so damn good shirtless. Yeah, can’t say that. Glen calls, inviting me over for a movie. I head downstairs, “Mr. Seresin? We are leaving in an hour.” He comes out of the office, “Where are we going?” “Glen’s house. He’s invited me over for a movie night.” That jaw muscle twitches like always and he mumbles, “But you don’t even like him.” “What?” Jake moves closer, clearing the distance between us in seconds. With his face inches from mine he repeats himself, “You don’t like him, so why are we going there.” I look at my shoes, avoiding his eyes, “Just be ready in an hour. You’ll be dropping me off. He has security at his home.” I turn and Jake’s hand closes around my wrist, “Like hell I will.” I whip around, “I’m your client, remember?” The familiar heat starts to spread through my stomach. Jake’s eyes stare into me, dark and stormy. His voice is low, “You are not going over there because he does not deserve you. If you want to watch a movie, rent one on your Amazon Prime.” “You’re ridiculous! You don’t want me, unless you suddenly forgot about the other night. So, I am going to spend the night with Glen.” Jake leans in and a flutter flies across my chest. He notices my blush and smirks, “Oh, I want you. I’ve wanted you since the day we met. But once I have you, I won’t be able to let go.”

#glen powell x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader

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the-simp-of-all-simps-22 · 3 months ago

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Disclaimers: Spelling mistakes, unhealthy Obsession, Yandere. Taehyung is going to get worse and worse as this goes.

Chapter Two: Encounter

Taehyung entered the mysterious girl's dimly lit space with an aura that felt both enchanting and unnerving. The flickering lights cast a shadow that distorted her figure, making her seem almost otherworldly-like a diamond trapped in a room full of dull stones.

As she laughed, he could feel the air thicken, as if very essence around them was taking on a life of its own. She smiled, but there was something addicting about that smile, a hidden depth that hinted at darker intentions. There was a haunting beauty in her presence, reminiscent of a siren luring sailors to their room, and he mesmerized and unaware, felt himself slipping deeper into her web without her doing anything.

But the more he admired her, the more he realized that this masterpiece held a charm. A chill crept his spine with each word she uttered—a foreboding whisper that warned him he shouldn't be drawn to her allure. There was a lightness in her eyes.

Soyeon looks over and sees Chun-Yung with cousin Seo-jun and a girl. When she looks at her son. She sees him staring at the girl with Chun-Yung. She then looks at her husband and sees the look he was given pleading for her to distract Taehyung.

Soyeon rolls her eyes "Son, ensure you handle the stocks for tomorrow and send the builders to complete the museum." Soyeon said in a stern voice making sure Taehyung heard her and understood. Taehyung turns to face his mother giving her an inserting nod Taehyung younger brother walks over to distract their father.

Taehyung and Soyeon stroll over to Chun-Yung and the mysterious girl. "Chun-Yung, so glad you made it! How's everything with the beauty makeup?" Soyeon beams at Chun-Yung, but her eyes dart back to the mysterious girl like a kid in a candy store.

"Auntie, it's going great! This is my best friend L/N Y/N, she's an amazing artist—she painted that masterpiece in my mom's foyer."

Chun-Yung flashes her best smile, trying to impress. But honestly Soyeon's not the easiest to deal with; she can be, well, a bitch. Everyone's a little scared of her (a lot) except her husband, Lee Bong-Tae—he's like her personal calmness coach!

Taehyung couldn't take his eyes off Y/N since his cousin Chun-Yung mentioned her name: L/N Y/N. It suddenly clicked for him—she was the artist who created that stunt painting in his aunt's foyer. Taehyung was captivated by her beauty that he couldn't form a word. He glanced down at her outfit: a silky, spaghetti strap dress that made her look like she stepped out of a dark romantic novel. She was truly a work of art herself. "Your art is amazing dear you have talent" Soyeon said trying to get Taehyung to talk.

"Nice to meet you I'm Kim Taehyung you are the most astonishing woman I have ever met Ms L/N." Taehyung said trying to flirt with y/n, y/n pulled her hand a little trying not to come off as rude "Thank you guys so muc, it's amazing to finally meet you guys" y/n gave the sweetest smile she could pull before she gave a the little bow and walking away linking arms with Chun-Yung. Taehyung stares at y/n figure walking away he is gonna follow her but his mother stops him "You still need to attend to your guests, so let's get moving!" Taehyung follows his mother's order but still glances at y/n every second he could without getting caught

AN:

Hey guys sorry I haven't posted my grandma passed away so I feel down but I'll try my best to keep posting bye

#Kim Taehyung #yandere bts

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dreamrk99 · 3 months ago

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In another life : mark lee 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ chapter 1

Cw : crying , unprotected sex , smoking ( cigarettes) like alot of cigs, mentions of suicide , drinking , oral sex , Vincent ( readers husband ) is a awful partner and infidelity

Reader is black girl coded as I the writer am a black women + unedited I will edit the mistakes later pls give feedback if you can

I despised cigarettes despite picking up a small smoking habit after being in a long-term relationship with a man who had a severe smoking habit. The slightly rubbery smell of the cigarette smoke had grown quite comforting to me . It was a chilly November night when the midnight moon broke through the foggy sky, its strong light shining into my brown eyes .

I took another puff of the nicotine stick and then put it out on the balcony. As I hit the tobacco stick against the wooden banister, the lit bud faded into a dark grey ash. The moonlight was reflecting heavily on the diamond ring that was placed upon my hand.

I got married at a young age, meeting my husband when I was only 19 years old. He was a wealthy businessman whose parents had paid for his college education. Vincent was a charming and well-put-together man, the kind of person that people write novels about. I met him while working closing shifts at a small café in downtown New York. Despite him being 30 years old and good-looking, he promised to take care of me. The following year we were married and living in a penthouse in Upper Manhattan. It has been 4 years since then and the rose-tinted frames have long worn off Vincent worked most days never really ever coming home and when he did he was usually quite neglectful only speaking to me when he needed me to make an appearance at a business event or when he needed to use my body for release

I spend most of my days alone in our large house, listening to music echoing off the walls as I down multiple glasses of some random imported expensive aged wine that my husband brings back from his trips. Each bottle is used as an apology after a storm.

“I turned from my place on the balcony, hearing the soft thump of the door behind me. "Vin!" I exclaimed as I fully turned around to meet my husband's gaze. His hair was disheveled, with subtle peppered grey hairs on his scalp, and his suit was fairly creased. He looked tired but let out a soft laugh as our eyes met

Vincent approached me and hugged me tightly, showering my shoulder with kisses, which was unusual behavior for him. I knew that whenever he was affectionate, he was seeking something from me. "What's wrong, Vin ?" I inquired, running my fingers through his neatly trimmed hair as he buried his face into my chest. "I have to attend a dinner party with my boss tomorrow, and I have been busy with work," he replied. He then looked up and added, "I need you to come with me as my pretty doll my arm candy." I loathed these dinners, but at the same time, I missed the feeling of being desired and shown off, which I had not experienced in a long time so maybe I’d grow to enjoy them.

———-

“ we’re running late “

“ I know, “ I said adjusting the appearance of the cream low-back silk dress my husband had laid out for me to wear the morning of the dinner before heading out to work

“How do I look ?” I spoke showing off the way the dress fit on my frame the silk draping beautifully down the curves of my back gold adorning my neck and ears and a blotted berry lipstick sat on my lips

“Ravishing “ Vincent spoke before taking my hand and leading me out the doorway of the penthouse .

The car ride felt agonizingly different, like Vincent’s facade had worn off as soon as we got into the Uber. I Leaned my head against the window as I listened to Vincent talk about insanely uninteresting topics and brag about his success despite being at the bottom of his firm .

Vincent the whole dinner bragged about his beautiful wife and his lavish lifestyle I had sat at the tables dazed, to be honest, I was itching to have my lips around a cigarette but I had remembered I left my gold cigarette case on my nightstand and we were at a fancy dinner I’d hate to meet his partners at work and smell like old cherry lites

Throughout the night I was paraded around meeting each of Vincent’s coworkers he would tell them how beautiful I was and how he loved me and I would play along and force a smile but in reality I didn’t quite love him anymore and rather spend my night talking to the intern donghyuck at the free bar as we drink our worries away .

“ you look, good princess “

I snapped out of my daze “Hmm” I said my eyes fixated on his mouth moving “ I said you look good tonight “ he repeated I more I looked good it’s one of the few reasons Vincent had married me he wanted eye candy and having a wife was better for business especially one that was quite pleasing to the eye

“ I’m going to excuse myself, “ I said softly I was dying to leave the hall I wanted to be free from Vincent’s grasp

I shimmied out from the beautifully lit dining hall and made my way outside I was itching for a cig or a vodka soda I needed something to take my stress away

“Not enjoying the dinner party ? Hmm”

My head turned swiftly “ I’d rather choke on my own blood then be paraded around in front of hundreds of incompetent men “ I spoke with a chuckle finally turning fully to see the man who was speaking he was pretty with strong bone structure the type you only see on models while his hair was dark his slender fingers holding onto a wine glass

“You're too pretty to be out here alone in the cold. Your husband isn’t much of a gentleman is he ?”

I chuckled “ he’s too busy trying to sell a facade of a lifestyle “ I huffed finally finding a cigarette buried deep enough in my purse the cig hung from my bottom lip as I looked around for something to light the tobacco stick

“ well if I had a wife as pretty as you I’d never leave you on your lonesome “

I smiled “ and you are ?” I asked with a giggle as I leaned against the rust colored brick wall

“ Mark Lee, this is my dinner party .. this whole company is mine “

My eyes widened a bit I had just insulted the entirety of Mr Lee staff

“ oh im so so sorry- “ I apologized causing him to let out a breathy laugh “ no.. no i appreciate the honesty it’s refreshing “

As almost on Cue Vincent wrapped his arms around my waist “ Mr lee is see you have met my beautiful wife “

He smiled “that I have “ he said his smile seeming to light up as he let out a soft laugh

Vincent looked at me and frowned snatching the cigarette from between my lips “ I told you to stop this “ as much as I wanted to rebuttal I decided it wasn’t worth the fight especially not in front of his higher up .

“ well mark we have to go thank you for keeping my wife company “ Vincent spoke before exchanging words with mark and leaving

“ let’s have dinner then go home shall we “

That night Vincent had fucked me pushing my face down into the plush pillows of our large bed my underwear being harshly pulled down my legs as he inserted himself between my legs

Vincent was selfish in bed he used my body like it was disposable most nights fucking into me eagered to finish not eagered to please he was rough often abusing my body in the process

“ take that like a good girl “ he whispered in my ear as I dazed out wishing this excuse for sex would be over so I could eagerly wash the grime of my body and finally get that cigarette I craved so badly

When Vincent finally finished inside me I got up and walked to the bathroom running the water and cleansing myself of his essence. I smoked 3 cigarettes before resting that night .

—

A week later Mr lee invited us to another event this one more intimate then the last a small gathering that he only invited a few important guests once of which being Vincent

“ You think he is going to give me a higher position? “ Vincent spoke a tinge of excitement in his voice

I doubted that . Vincent was probably the most incompetent man at the firm, the only reason he got through law school being because his mother had intended nyu and was on the board .

“Of course” I lied a forcing a warm smile

“ well get dressed dinners at 7pm “

I hadn’t intended to have to dress up again so soon but I couldn’t lie and say I wasn’t slightly excited to see Mark again. The man who interested me has been lingering in the depths of my mind for a while since the dinner party .

By 6:45 we had arrived at the large loft where I assumed Mark had lived. Despite being early, Mark had let us into his home a few other familiar faces from the dinner party sitting around the large loft .

the interior looked beautiful under the warm yellow lighting the lit the entirety of the home and illuminated the huge table sitting in the middle of the loft .

By 7 Mark had returned from the kitchen with a red cabaret wine pouring everyone glasses before making a small toast “ I’m so thankful that everyone could make it to my small event today I know it was very sudden but I wanted to get to know everyone on my team ” mark says with a warm smile finally sitting his glass down” so let’s eat “

And unfortunately, By 9 Vincent was drunk and embarrassing at that. most of the other guests looking at him with distaste as getting sloppy at a company dinner was not a good look .

Mark looked at him with amusement watching his employee struggle to hold a conversation and squash multiple opportunities

“ I’ll be back imma go have a smoke , “ I said softly I was dying to leave the table at that moment

I walked out into the courtyard pulling out a smoke and lighting it immediately inhaling the rubbery taste

“ your husband has put on quite the show “ mark exclames causing me face him

“ he’s 34, one of the oldest in his department and still can’t seem to do anything of significance.. I’m actually starting to think he’s a waste of space actually dumber than nails “

The way he spoke about Vincent was cynical but I couldn’t say I didn’t agree with his sentiments Vincent was incapable of doing anything but being dead weight

“ he is but he keeps a roof over my head and that’s all I can really ask for “ I say

Mark walks closer to me taking the cigarette from my lip and slipping it between his own a little of my red lipstick transferring from the cig to his upper lip “ I think I could give you the life you deserve “ he says with a smirk inhaling the smoke

“ one where you would be adored in ways that matter “ he whispered “ can I kiss you ?” He suddenly looked down at me, his slender fingers resting on my face. “ Yes” I gasped out a little more desperately then I had intended practically aching for him. It was bashful and desperate but at that moment I felt something for the first time … I felt alive .

I had returned to the dinner making up some lame excuse for why I had to go home. “ Vin I don’t feel good Mr lees going to take me home while you sober up “

And that night I cheated

as my husband was In the dinner mingling drunkenly

I was in our room on our shared bed with his boss head between my trembling thighs

He drank from me , Hungirly drinking every drop from between my legs, my fingers anchored into his

Hair “please , “ I gasped, eyes rolling back as I fantasized about a life without Vincent . Mark had lifted his head from between my thighs, his eyes glossy with admiration my head filled with nothing but mark and as I released my essence, my soul on his tongue

I didn’t think of Vincent… not at all .

_________

“I don’t think I’m a good person “

I looked down at Mark who was lying softly on the lower half of my belly his doe eyes looking up at me with a warmth that can only be felt “ I don’t think you are a bad person my love “ he uttered as he placed gentle kisses along my torso each filled with affection “ I just think even good people are capable of doing bad things “.

I felt marks lips connect to mine as he kissed me with reassurance I closed my eyes taking in every inch of his affection every inch of his love I was in deep already and I couldn’t wait to fall deeper

He smiled stopping mid-kiss “Have you eaten?” I hadn’t eaten any of the food during the dinner “ I haven’t “ I spoke softy “Hmm.. let me feed you “Before I could utter a sentence Mark had gotten up from where he was lying and slipped on his undergarments and made his way to the kitchen in a way that felt domestic

“ aren’t you worried .. worried Vincent will awaken and wander home and see you cooking for me while indecent “ I asked genuinely we had left him on the couch of Mark's loft for a few hours to sober up.

“ he drank a whole bottle of 30 proof he will be out for quite some time by then hopefully I’ll be home before he awakes “Mark was surprisingly calm about the situation cooking me a meal with no worries.

“When did you learn to cook ?” He simply smiled before commenting “ I’m not a great cook but I make some mean kimchi jjigae” he said with a soft smile his eyes crinkling up I intently watched the comforting stew on the stove the smell filling the house with warmth

“ eat “ he uttered as he pushed the bowl to me “Eat pls you look like you’ve lost weight and it’s only been a few weeks “ I looked into his eyes they we begging for me to eat so I did dipped my spoon into the dark red broth

Mark watched as I took spoonfuls of the stew till the bowl was empty he grinned “Now I feel better you should have eaten darling “

To be honest I didn’t eat much I often smoked cigarettes so much that my appetite would diminish my discomfort with my body made it easier for theses disordered habits to thrive I would often would avoid eating food .

“ you look like you have been kissed by angels “ I uttered causing him to stop “

“ when did you become such smooth talker “ he chuckled a large smile on his face he looked almost soft his ceo image shattering and his boyish charm shining through

I realized he was quiet and when he did talk he was passionate about everything he did or said it was admirable he was the opposite of Vincent

Mark was caring and selfless only becoming selfish the one time he spent with me maybe my selfish nature was rubbing off on him .

—

Mark had left a few hours ago yet the scent of his cologne still lingered in my nose as I soaked his scent off my supple skin still feeling a dull ache between my thighs

I heard the door of the bedroom creak as I saw Vincent tumble into the room he looked disheveled and smelt like a distillery as he walked into the bathroom and placed a kiss on my forehead “Good morning “ he uttered a slight slur still lingering.

“ morning vin how did you sleep ?” I asked as I scrubbed the final reminisce of Mark's cologne off my body he shrugged “So so “ as he turned on the shower stepping into it instantly to wash away his sins from the night before.

—

I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about Mark every day since the events that unfolded the night of his party it had been a 3 weeks since the event and every other day I would sneak off to call him while my husband was away working to uphold the lifestyle we were living.

I found out a lot about Mark throughout the week like that he wasn’t born into wealth came from an average working-class household and that he loved to cook even though he was very bad at it

I found myself dialing his number again as I snuck off to the balcony of the penthouse while Vincent was in the shower

“ hey angel, “ he said a hint of tiredness in his voice

“ I’m sorry did I wake you “ I spoke politely he was a busy man he’d probably been working all day and here I was calling him during his off-hours

“ you didn’t wake me at all .. I’ve been up, “ he said reassuringly “Plus I’ll always make time for you “ I smiled as I held the phone close to my ear with a smile on my face as I listened to him talking about anything I just wanted to hear his voice

Angel, are you there? He asked

“ yeah I am “

“You so quiet today hmmm “

“ I just wanna listen to you “ I could almost hear his smile through the phone “Baby imma come over “ I heard his body shift from the bed from the cell phone “Please.. Vincent won’t be home“ I practically softly begged I wanted to have him in my space

I found myself rushing to look pretty for him something I rarely did these days unless I was going out .

———-

“ my beautiful angel “

Mark's eyes were lidded as he stroked my face bringing me to a deep kiss “You feeling good ? Am I taking care of you angel “ he asked almost teasing as he filled the void between my thighs his eyes watching intently as I moved my hips up to match his agonizing slow pace

Mark was a soft and slow lover he fucked like he had all the time in the world slowly watching me come undone from just a few strokes .

The water slowly ran cold and the bubbles that were once adorning the bath faded away as he messily plumped himself in between my legs I felt my release nearing “Let go angel “ he whispered in my ear as I finally finished “ beautiful “ he uttered still holding me tight as my body aches .

“ you haven’t finished, “I say looking at Mark confused this has been the second time we had had sex and he hadn’t come inside .

“ it’s fine it was about you angel I wanted to make you feel good “

I found myself desperate to watch him come undone I wanted to milk him to completion “Stand up “ I spoke before raising to rest my knees on the hard ceramic of the bath “Angel.. baby you don’t ..-“ I cut him short “ I want to I want to taste you in all your essence “ I looked up at him as he stood there in all his glory.

I know it was quick and crazy to say but at that moment as I looked at him with nothing but love and admiration that I had never once felt with anybody else I realized I loved him. I was in love with him .

I took him in my hand pumping his member watching as he let out soft groans and gasps. It was music to my ears when I heard him whimper out “ Angel .. my beautiful angel “

I let out a guttural moan as I took him between my lips letting him hit the back of my throat before circling the head desperate to feel him cum in my mouth

Mark's hand found its way into the curls of my hair as he whispered soft praises “My beautiful girl is so good “ he’d whimper out “You were made specifically for me, my gift “ I was in love wanting nothing more than to feel him spill down my throat

“ Angel I’m about to “Before he could even finish the sentence I wrapped my lips around the tip catching every drop and feeling his nectar coat my throat before slipping him from my mouth

“ come here angel, “ he said pulling me into his arms and carrying me out the tiled bathroom to the edge of the bed, placing me softly down on the sheets.

It felt domestic the way he kissed me like I was the only woman in the world it felt domestic the way he helped me get dressed taking his time slipping my little slip over my head It felt domestic the way he talked about our relationship as if we had so much time together although I was a married woman .

Before I could comprehend anything Mark had left needing to be back before my husband ended his shift and got home

I felt an emptiness as Vincent walked in the door and tried to grab my hips “ Vincent let go “ I said sternly he giggled still trying to pull up my dress “ Vincent pls I’m not feeling good “ he stepped back in shock I wasn’t usually the type to push him away usually wanting him to get his sexual urges out so I can rest and forget about it after a drink of alcohol

“ I’m not in the mood to be fucked to sleep “

he was taken back by my brass comment his eyes fixated on me “ I think I’m going to go over to Karina’s “ I spoke sternly before grabbing a small bag and packing it to the brim with some clothing and toiletries “ I’ll be back in the morning Vincent I need some space “ Vincent had stood there dumbfounded

“ okay message me when you made it to her house “

I nodded before hopping into my car and making my way to Karina’s

Once I arrived I was instantly greeted with a warm hug “ I missed you so much “ she exclaims before grabbing a wine glasses and sitting down on the small love seat “ now I know that face .. what did you do “ she speaks softly

I looked up to her “ I’m not a good person rina “ her smile dropped “ rina i cheated on Vincent with his boss “ rinas face was unreadable not quite disappointment but not exactly approval .

“So you had sex with the ceo of the Lee firm Rina said her eye brow raised slightly I had nodded softly waiting for rina to say something yet it never came she just held my hands that had been sitting on my lap and looked me in my eyes .

“ do you have feeling For him “ she spoke with sincerity

I looked at up at her again nothing left my mouth but the look in my eyes told her everything she needed to know “hmm” she hummed before she took a long drag of her wine .

she tired lighting the mood

“ what’s the famous mr lee look like ? Is he .. before she could finish her statement

Mark himself had texted my phone .

Mark : my angel you up ?

A smile appeared onto my face as a read the very simple message and replied

You : im up :)

I looked over to karina who seemed to reading the situation.

Mark : I miss you my angel

Mark : I’ll be home soon to see you !

I smiled at the very simple yet reassuring messages I once again looked over to Karina to see a smile on her face.

“ I’veNever seen you this smiley ever “ she spoke

“ tell me about him “ she said with a approving voice

——

“ are you listening to me “ I looked up from the coffee table a old cigarette placed between my fingers

“ I’m sorry “ I spoke softly my eyes meeting with Vincent’s

“ it’s been 20 minutes what’s going on you haven’t been present for days “ Vincent exclaims slightly irritated

“ vincent don’t still wanna fuck me ?” I spoke bluntly taking him by surprise as I leaned back on the couch exposing more skin

“ ofc I do but what’s with this behavior?? “

It had been a 2 weeks since I last spoke to mark he told me he had to fly to Shanghai for business and he’d be gone for quite some time while he closed a huge deal but I missed his voice and the comfort of his body after a night of passion

Vincent wouldn’t give me the tenderness I yearned for and I knew that but I felt pent up aching for the day I’d be able to be in marks embrace again working my fingers through my thighs listening to his soft voicemails wasn’t enough anymore I needed to feel him completely I needed to be filled.

My lips interlocked with Vincent’s as he lays me down on the sheets below us “ please touch me “ I begged as I removed my thin night dress causing Vincent to sloppily remove his pants from his legs and he propped my thighs apart “ is that for me “ he says cheekily as he points to the darkened patch in my underwear “ all for you “ I gasp out as I grind looking for friction “ pls give it to me “ I whine as I grab Vincent and lean in to kiss him passionately letting my mind wonder as he flips me over pushing my face into the bed

I felt Vincent enter my body as he rocked his hips each thrust sloppy and uncoordinated “ you like that baby “ Vincent whispers under his breath as he fucks into me quickly

I found myself zooming out my mind instantly wondering to mark I wondered if he would fill me up with his essence I thought about how full I felt the last time he was between my thighs

I was snapped out my thoughts as Vincent pushed my hips down as he finally released into me fucking himself through his release “ so good for me “ he mumbled under his breathe before pulling himself out and laying next to me

Before I knew it Vincent had closed his eyes for the night light snores leaving his mouth as I sat there the sticky sheets molded to my body .. I felt disgusting reminisce of him between my thighs I instantly got up and cleaned myself up slipping in my nightdress before making my way to the balcony cigarette already partially lit .

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wildsupernova · 1 year ago

Text

roses, chocolates, and a heart shaped box.

summary: valentine’s day had always felt like a joke to you. nobody had ever taken the time to do anything nice for you, but when the sickeningly romantic steve harrington falls in love with you, of course you’ll have the best valentine’s day ever.

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

warnings: some suggestive language, nothing too crazy

word count: 2.4k

a/n: hey everyone! i know it’s been a while since i posted anything, but my second year of college has been kicking my ass and making it near impossible to get motivation to do anything. i figured what better way to get back in the swing of things than with a valentine’s day fic! i know it’s a day early, but i wanted to get this up before i got too busy and forgot about it. anyway, hope you guys enjoy, and happy valentine’s day!

masterlist | prompts list | ao3

Valentine’s Day had never been something you looked forward to.

Even as a kid, you associated it with loneliness, watching on as all the little second grade boys gave their crushes a dandelion they picked fresh from the playground at recess. You detested it when they started selling candy-grams in middle school, because every year it seemed that you were the only one who never received one. You’d check your locker every day for the whole week hoping that maybe someone had slipped you a note only for nothing to fall out when you opened it, held your breath when they handed out the candy-grams only for your name to never be called, and dressed yourself up nice in the hopes that someone at the Valentine’s Day dance would ask you to dance with them only to end up with sore feet and running mascara by the end of the night. By the time high school came around, you gave up on the idea of Valentine’s Day altogether, never having a relationship last long enough to celebrate it.

You’d turned into a stone hearted cynic, and just the mention of the words ‘Valentine’s Day’ had you rolling your eyes.

That was, until you met Steve Harrington.

You’d never met someone so…romantic. He was the kind of guy to show up to your house with flowers for no reason other than that he wanted to, or buy you a pair of fake diamond earrings (hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?) he saw at an antique shop because he saw them and immediately thought of you. He was the type to leave small little love letters in your locker between classes, and pick you up and spin you around and cover you in kisses because he missed you.

But that didn’t change the fact that you hated Valentine’s Day.

Steve had never been able to understand how someone could hate Valentine’s Day. ‘Come on!’ He’d say. ‘It's a whole day where people who love each other do something special together. What could be better than that?’ You’d always respond the same way; that to you, Valentine’s Day was nothing but a commodity and an excuse for boyfriends who did nothing for their girlfriends all year to make up for it with a fancy dinner and a box of chocolates. You don’t need a special day to show you love someone. If you really love someone, everyday is like that.

It took him prying it out of you before you finally admitted the real reason you hated Valentine’s Day.

“Nobody’s ever done anything nice for me on Valentine’s Day, okay?” The words come out with a bit more bite than you mean for them too, and Steve’s face scrunched a bit.

“What?”

“Nobody’s ever done anything for me for Valentine’s Day.” You repeat yourself. “I’ve never gotten…flowers, or chocolates, or a nice dinner or anything. It’s not a big deal, I’m used to it.”

“Nobody has ever done anything nice for you?”

“I mean, my parents always got me chocolate every year but…nobody ever really made the choice to do anything.” You picked at your nails and tried to make your voice sound like it didn’t bother you, but Steve could hear the disappointment. He tried to question you about it further, but you changed the subject before he could. “It’s not a big deal. Let’s just talk about something else, okay?”

For the next month, Steve took it as a personal challenge to give you the best Valentine’s Day you’d ever had. He even made a stupid little flow chart in one of his notebooks, chicken scratch and scribbles covering 3 whole pages while he tried to brainstorm the best way to make up for all of your shitty Valentine’s Days. He probably looked crazy, the way he was scribbling like a madman during class, but it would all be worth it in the end.

The plan he came up with was simple, really.

Everyday for the week leading up to Valentine’s Day, he put a single red rose in your locker or left it on your bedroom windowsill. Never anything more, other than a note he’d sloppily tied to the stem of the flower with a pink ribbon, the words ‘I love you’ written in red ink. Every day you placed the new flower in a small glass of water you used as a makeshift vase and put the notes in an old jewelry box you didn’t use anymore.

Everyday you’d tell Steve he didn’t have to do that, that you were content with not getting anything, but your smile that spread ear to ear told him more than your words did.

By the time Valentine’s Day finally arrived, you had a full bouquet of seven red roses sitting on your bedside table, and a stack of sloppily written love notes sitting in a box on your dresser. It made you hold your head just a little bit higher, smile a bit brighter, and feel a little bit happier on a day that you always associated with something lonely.

When you opened your locker that morning, you were met with another red rose and a note, except this time the note had been clumsily cut into the shape of a lopsided heart, the words ‘Be my valentine?’ written in glittery pink pen. Two arms wrapping around your waist had you clutching the flower tighter, leaning your back into Steve’s chest.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He whispered the words against your ear as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, a smile pressed against your skin. You turned in his arms and draped your own over his shoulders.

“Where’d you get a pink glitter pen?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He shut up anymore questions with a kiss, and you giggled. A stupid, girly, lovesick giggle. Steve had a dopey smile on his face when you parted. “Got you something else too.”

He reached into your locker and pulled something out from behind the textbooks, a heart shaped box tied shut with two white ribbons. You went to untie them before he stopped you, placing a hand over your own.

“Don’t open it til’ you get home, okay?” You gave him a skeptical look but nodded anyway.

“Okay?” You slipped the box back into your locker and closed it, cradling your books and the rose in the crook of your arm. “Hey, I gotta get to class, but I’ll see you at lunch, okay?” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, and as you went to walk away, he grabbed your wrist lightly.

“You never answered my question, you know.” Your smile grew impossibly wider.

“Yes, I’ll be your valentine.”

When you got home that afternoon, you untied the note from the stem of the rose, clipped it, and placed it in the cup with the others, hand delicately adjusting the flowers until they fell just the right way. You pulled the box from your backpack and plopped down on the bed, untying the ribbon and pulling the lid off.

Inside was an assortment of fancy chocolates, the kind you’d always eye at the grocery store as a kid but your parents told you were too expensive to buy. In a small empty space in the center sat a small black velvet box and another note, folded over in a rather well made origami heart. You picked it up and unfolded it, smiling at the words written inside.

‘I’m picking you up at 7. Wear something nice.

I love you.’

When you opened the velvet box, you almost cried.

Inside the box sat a small promise ring, a silver band swirling in dainty, earthen patterns until they curled around a single pink gemstone fashioned in the shape of a rose. Underneath the lid was a matching pair of earrings, and when you picked up the ring, you noticed an engraving on the inside of the band.

‘I’ll love you until the last rose on Earth dies.’

It all felt like too much. You’d gotten so used to being alone, so used to never getting any gifts at all, that it felt like you didn’t deserve all of these special things Steve was doing for you. It was almost overwhelming, to have someone choose to show you how much they love you, instead of it feeling like some sort of obligation.

Someone chose to love you.

And you really, really liked that.

By the time the clock hit 7, you felt butterflies swimming in your stomach. You knew you had nothing to be nervous about, but that didn’t stop your heart from beating far too fast and your face from keeping a constant blush. It didn’t help that you felt out of place dressed the way you were.

You hadn’t had a reason to dress particularly nice since middle school, nor had you really had a desire to. When you’d pulled the nicest dress you owned out of your closet-a tight black dress that went to just above your knees and made you feel more than a little self conscious-the hanger had been covered in a thin layer of dust, as had the heels you decided to wear it with. The makeup on your face felt heavy, something you’d had to ask your mom for help with, and you coughed as you sprayed perfume straight into your mouth. You slipped the promise ring onto your finger and watched as it sparkled in your bedroom light.

When a knock on the door echoed through your living room at exactly 7:01 pm, you tugged the bottom of your dress down and walked over to the door, swinging the door open slowly. On the other side stood Steve, far better dressed than you had ever seen him, white button down and suit pants pressed smooth without a single wrinkle. He had a few of the buttons on his shirt undone for the fabric to fall open, revealing just enough of his chest to have you blushing. His hair, perfectly quaffed as always, fell into his eyes a bit, and a lovesick smile hid behind a large bouquet of roses.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful.” You took the bouquet from him, letting out a soft laugh.

“I think you’ve given me enough roses for one week.”

“Well, you said nobody had ever gotten you flowers for Valentine’s Day, so I figured I’d give you enough to make up for it.” You thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and left to put the new roses with the rest, and as you arranged them all to fit, you noticed that there were 18 roses, one for every Valentine’s Day you’d missed out on. You smiled.

After a quick goodbye to your parents, the two of you were on your way to wherever Steve planned to take you, heat on blast to try and counteract the bitter Indiana winter. When Steve pulled into the parking lot of Enzo’s, your heart sputtered.

“Enzo’s?”

“You said you’d never been, but you’d always wanted to go, so I figured I’d take you out to a nice dinner. You know, to make up for all the times nobody ever took you.” He seemed almost nervous, fidgeting in his seat while his hands tightened a bit on the gear shift as he put the car in park. A smile slowly found its way onto your face, and you leaned over the center console to press a kiss to his cheek. When you pulled away, you giggled at the lipstick mark now staining his skin, and he wiped it away with a blush on his cheeks.

Dinner had been a bit of a culture shock. You weren’t used to anything this ‘high end’, the entire restaurant filled to capacity with couples dressed to the nines to celebrate the holiday. A few of them were around your age, but they ran in a social circle so far away from yours that you didn’t know any of their names.

That night was how you found out you weren’t really one for ‘fine dining’, portions far too small for the outrageous prices listed on the menu. Regardless, you had enjoyed it, even though you much preferred the burgers at the fast food place a few minutes away from your house. It helped that Steve was great company, and by the end of the night you were wishing you didn’t have to go home.

“You could always come stay the night with me.” Steve’s hand snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer, mere inches away from your front door. “My parents are gone for the week. Again.”

You swatted at his shoulder when his face morphed into a suggestive smirk.

“You know my dad would kill me.”

“Just don’t tell him.” The words were a whisper against your ear as he pressed a series of kisses to your cheek. “Just sneak out. I’ll move my car down the street so they don’t see me and everything.”

“Do you want me to never be able to see you again?” You let out a small laugh, gently pushing his head away from your face and neck. “If they find out I snuck out I will literally never be allowed to talk to you again.”

Steve put on an exaggerated pout, earning him an elbow to the side.

“Don’t give me that look, I’m serious.” Despite your scolding tone, the smile hadn’t dropped from your face. Steve held his hands up in surrender.

“Fine, fine. But next time your parents are gone for the weekend you’re staying the night.” You let out a laugh and pressed a kiss to his lips, Steve chasing after you when you pulled away.

“Goodnight, Steve. Thank you, for everything you did for me tonight.” He gave you another soft kiss as he smiled against your lips.

“Can’t have my girl thinkin’ I’d just let her wallow on Valentine’s Day. I had to show you what you were missing.” His tone was borderline smug, and all you could do was kiss the smirk off his face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.” You’d said those words to him before, but somehow, this time, they held a little bit more weight to them.

“I love you, too.” One more kiss. “You better go before your dad comes out here and chases me off.” Reluctantly, Steve began heading back to his car, flashing you a wave and a smile as you headed inside.

Valentine’s Day was still overrated, but it was a bit more bearable when you had someone like Steve.

#steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #steve x reader #women writers #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fluff #fluff #valentines day #short fanfic #valentine's day fic #x reader #romantic

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