#dani smut

[chunksworld]

Take My Breath

NewJeans Danielle x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N: part 3 of this nwjns series I'm still not quite so sure what to call; thank you to kaede for beta reading as always.

Part 1: Double Fantasy

Part 2: Role Model

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“Hnnghhh. F-Fucking me so good—harder!”

Everything about this situation is risky, dangerous, and foolish. But it’s hard to think about anything else when you’re pounding Danielle like she’s nothing but your fucktoy—and you can only be thankful that no one else is here to listen to her wanton moans that threaten to rip out of her throat. And that’s mostly because you two are in the backseat of your car, some early 2000s model that was definitely not built to withstand such intense pressure. It’s only fortunate that you were sitting in the back of the lecture hall when she sent you a pic of her in her lingerie from the night before because it made for an easy exit towards your car and it would have been extremely embarrassing to have to cover your boner with your backpack. It’s also fortunate that your car is tinted because the sight of her face down, ass up with her jacket barely clinging onto her tight body is absolutely not school appropriate. “Keep fucking me like that—shit—I’m gonna cum soon!”

When Hanni gave her your number, you didn’t think that she would be messaging you to hook-up every other day. She didn’t seem like that type of girl, in fact you’d think that she’s the type to only have sex after marriage but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Also, you didn’t think that Danielle would be more insatiable than her two friends. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing or where you are, she can just hit you with a text and you’ll be there to satisfy her carnal needs. The girls call it a “dick appointment” but you’re sure it’s more of an on-call situation with the way you are always there for her—only sexually of course. It’s already getting difficult trying to keep your brain (and dick) intact with the way Minji and Hanni both seem to wanna share and fuck you at the same time. You’re sure it’s only a matter of time before a threesome is in the cards—not that you are complaining because just the thought is enough to keep you horny for days on end. 

And adding Danielle to that mix would further complicate an already mind-boggling situation, as much as you lust for her body as the other two. One, there’s only so much cum in your balls to go around. And second, falling in love with multiple girls at once is not something you’re keen on doing. It was rather something that forced you to commit to the situation at hand (but shouldn’t you have rejected Hanni’s offer in the first place?) It’s too much to wrap your head around at this very moment, especially when Danielle was just that distant friend in your circle. Did you find her pretty? Absolutely. But these past few weeks of hooking up with her led you to discover that she’s much more than that. You’ve only known her as that bright, cheerful girl with a heavenly voice for quite some time now yet here you are making her sing a completely different song.

Wrap your arms around her tiny waist and pull her upright, her back pressed against your chest to thrust yourself deeper into her. Blonde locks block your vision but her scent is enough to encourage your fucking. Her reaction is immediate, louder moans coming out of her mouth that you are sure can be faintly heard from the outside—on top of that, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberates throughout this tiny space. Plus, how are you going to get rid of the smell of sex later? You don’t care though, not when your face is buried in the crook of her neck and your hands creep up to massage her tiny but beautiful tits. “You’ve been planning this all morning weren’t you?” Lips find that sweet spot on her neck and you begin to nip and suck—you can never, will never get enough of her. “Wearing my favorite cologne because you want me to fuck you till you can’t walk while the rest of our friends are out for their lunch break?” 

Danielle can only nod, her tongue sticking out and her eyes closed. Absolutely nothing matters to her at this point—only the fact that your cock is rearranging her guts and that she’s going to have to explain why she’s limping after excusing herself out of meeting with the rest of the girls. Right. Nothing matters. Take a quick glance at your watch. 10 minutes. Unfortunately, the thirty minutes flew by and you can only ignore their messages for so long before they start looking for you. It was a great lunch you’ll explain, one that consisted of a mixture of Australian and Korean cuisine. “I’m so close, please.” Her voice is hoarse and her makeup is already ruined beyond repair but that just makes her even more gorgeous in your eyes. “Shit, if I knew you were gonna be this good—umph! I would’ve snatched you up for myself.” 

You don’t respond verbally but you’re damn near pistoning your cock inside her in response to the compliment that definitely doesn’t rile you up. “I’m cumming, oh fuck!” She almost falls forward and you wrap your arms tighter around her waist. Danielle is definitely a screamer and you are wondering whether she still has any voice left after such a powerful orgasm. It’s hot, the way it becomes a full body experience with how she’s shuddering and shaking against your figure. The way your name comes out of that pretty mouth in between curse words and broken sentences. She has completely drenched not just your thighs but the polyester fabric of your backseat. But just how messy the cleanup is going to be doesn’t enter your mind at all when you can feel your own orgasm getting closer. You pull out for a brief moment as her slick drips down her thighs and you re-enter after giving your cock a pump. You resume thrusting at the frantic pace you did before and you know that you are only a few thrusts away 

“Gonna cum, Dani.” Through gritted teeth you manage to warn her, the incredibly tight and warm feeling inside her pussy only urging you on towards her completion. Since she’s already made a mess of your car then you might as well add to it. Your thrusts are more erratic, losing their rhythm the more you indulge yourself in her body. Two handfuls of her ass is what you grab onto as her body falls back down, moans muffled by your cum-stained seats. Nothing feels as good as her at this very moment; and if you could just ditch the rest of your classes and fuck her for the rest of the day, you absolutely would. You’d rather have her bouncing and screaming on your cock than listen to your professor babble some nonsense anyways. “Wanna pump you full until it’s leaking down your thighs.” You can feel it, you are going to explode and give her the biggest creampie she’s ever received from you. But her right hand grips on your biceps, almost failing to do so with how much sweat covers your bodies.

“Not this time…” Danielle mutters just in time and you’re almost ashamed by the way you groaned in protest. You have to make a decision in seconds and you make the one you’ve been wanting to since you’ve started hooking up with her. You pull out and make her lay on her back, straddling her face and pumping your slick-covered cock. A guttural groan of her name leaves your lips as shot after shot of thick cum lands on her most prominent features: her nose, cheekbones, and those tempting lips of hers. She looks pretty, so fucking pretty that not even the most expensive makeup she wears can rival the way her face looks glazed and dripping with your cum. As expected, this might have been your biggest orgasm with her so far. But it’s hard not to be completely drained when she lured you into such a precarious situation that has you risking it all once again.  Last week it was inside the maintenance room and now, your car. Maybe you have a thing for potentially getting caught fucking your girlfriend’s friends after all.

You check your watch again and you’ve only got three minutes to dress and clean-up, which you both are experts at doing so by this point. Embarrassed, Danielle offers to help pay for the clean-up of your car but you turn her down. You don’t mind going bankrupt if it means having her cum on your cock every week. After a quick retouching of her makeup you two are off to continue the rest of your day like nothing happened. But it’s clearly obvious with the way Danielle limps off when she exits your vehicle, heading in the opposite direction of you. And it’s not like you don’t smell like her either: the combination of her shampoo, conditioner, and whatever body wash she uses lingering on you. Whatever. As long as you sit as far away from your friends, especially the two girls, as far as possible you’ll be safe. You arrive in the lecture hall in the nick of time and despite making very little noise, you’ve already got two pairs of eyes staring at you from the other side. And they’re not just staring, they are smirking at you—as if to tell you that your cover has already been blown. 

That’s why it was pointless to lie to Minji and Hanni because they could already sense it from a mile away. “So, where did you guys do it? We tried looking at all the places you two have had sex before.” You tried to make a quick getaway as soon as the lecture ended but it was all in vain when Minji grabbed you by your shoulders. Even more so when Hanni is on the other side hugging your arm. It was a mistake, it was all a mistake. Maybe you should have just gone back to your place and took a shower, it’s not like you wanted to attend that stupid math class anyways. Instead you have your girlfriend and oh, your other girlfriend interrogating you. Who in their right mind would agree to such an arrangement? “Oh! They might’ve done it inside one of those empty classrooms down the hall. Am I right? I’m just wondering how no one heard you guys though considering Dani can get pretty loud.” Seriously, do these girls tell each other everything? “Dani likes being fucked raw too so they must’ve made a big mess.” The casualness at which they talk about their sex life (which unfortunately happens to include you) is truly astounding and you feel even hotter than when you were fucking Danielle earlier inside that cramped car earlier.

“Why the hell would I tell you both where we fucked? So you can join in?” Maybe it’s a question you shouldn’t have asked because they both nod their heads eagerly. ��You are both unbelievable, I thought you were gonna let me and her do our thing separately? Wasn’t that part of our agreement?” Danielle hates sharing you even if you weren’t lovers, it was an agreement reluctantly agreed to by Minji and Hanni considering they can’t keep their hands off of you. They contemplated and then contemplated again, ultimately deciding that the blonde Aussie can have a slice of the pie rather than it being just a one time thing. They were all friends after all, and not even their overwhelming lust for you won’t get in the way of that. Sharing is indeed caring when it comes to you, and who are you to complain about this whole situation? “Anything else? I really need to go back home and take a shower.” That was thankfully enough to shut them up; a miracle considering they love arguing with you mostly because you tend to spend more time with one compared to the other. 

“Nope! We’re good. See you tomorrow, baby.” Hanni leans in to kiss you first, standing on the very tips of her toes to connect her lips with yours. Then Minji, who pulls you in for a brief makeout session, she really hates being one-upped you see. If there’s a single trait of hers that you love, it’s that she is extremely competitive—that’s how your rivalry with her started in the first place. What began as arguing over who is the better and smarter student landed the two of you in a mess that might just be too much even for two big brains to handle, but again who are you to complain? Instinctively, you grab her by the waist and the moan that emits from her mouth almost wants you to fuck her then and there. “You still have to help me study tomorrow. I hope you’re ready.” Yeah, and you hope your cock is too. A wink from both of them and you’re finally given the opportunity to head home and perhaps contemplate just what the fuck you got yourself into while you make your way there. Your roommate greets you from the couch when the door opens, briefly raising his hand to wave at you before looking back at the show he’s watching.

“Hey man, we’re drinking out tonight. Wanna come?”

“Nah, I’m good.” You didn’t think Danielle would drain you to the point of physical exhaustion but she did, something that her older friends can’t do. You’re not exactly the fittest but it is as if you ran a marathon with how tired you are. “Just tired today, have fun though. Try not to get shitfaced.” You joke but he absolutely will, all of you do—to the point that you find yourself crashing at a random friend’s place instead of your own and that is exactly what’s going to happen tonight. A night out with the boys is usually something you never miss out on but not tonight, a good sleep is what you need especially if Minji is going to exhaust you again tomorrow. You bid farewell to him instead and head back into your room, crashing immediately on your bed to sleep. Well that was the plan at least but you find yourself waking up a few hours later to your phone ringing. You groan in frustration at having your beauty sleep interrupted but the stupid phone won’t stop ringing. It would stop for a few seconds then start ringing again. Groggy, you blindly grab your phone from your nightstand. It’s already extremely dark outside and the lights of your phone screen almost blinds you. You squint your eyes a couple of times to clear up your surroundings and you damn near jump out of the bed when you see the name on top: Danielle. 

That was sobering enough to fully wake you up and for some reason, your heart is pounding even at just the sight of her name. She rarely calls you, what’s the matter? Check the time. 2 AM. What could this woman want from you now? Feigning reluctance, you swipe to answer her call. “Dani, what the fuck do you want?” On the other end, you could hear squelching noises in the background along with the eerily familiar moans of the girl in question. “Daddy, please.” There is absolutely no way she’s doing what you think she’s doing. But the long pause and the sound of her moans that are music to your ears are all you hear. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen seconds. More squelching noises in the background and it’s undeniable what sinful actions that girl is doing in her room. “I’ve been fucking myself with this dildo for the past 10 minutes now but it’s not as big as you…..” You can hear her bed squeaking, and you can only imagine her gripping on the bed sheets and squirming around as that phallic object fucks her and you wish it was you that was fucking her instead. But it’s too late, and your roommate could come back home anytime. What if he didn’t crash at someone else’s place for the night? You’ve always let your dick do the thinking but it’s time to show some maturity, even though you’re only a year older than her. As much as your cock is about to burst through your shorts, there has to be a line drawn—though it’s difficult when it comes to her.

“Danielle, there is absolutely no fucking way you’re calling me at 2 in the morning for some di–”

A loud moan interrupts you, followed by breathless pants. “…I’ll even let you cum in me this time. I’m s-sorry I couldn’t let you—hnghh— do it earlier.” That’s what eventually lured you in because twenty minutes later. Danielle is sitting on your lap in your apartment sticking her tongue as far down your throat as possible. Your shirt is discarded already the moment you basically carried her towards your room and threw her in your bed.  It is also wonderfully considerate of her to not wear a bra because you are immediately greeted by her perky tits the moment you removed her hoodie. A hand of yours fondles her breasts while a hand of hers pulls you even closer to her as if there were any inches of space left between you two. It is messy, teeth clashing and tongues swirling. It is not sufficient to say that Danielle is a good kisser because she is a great one. Every makeout session leaves you breathless and wanting. You absolutely don’t have the time to question it now but you always seem to savor these moments more with her than anyone else—this blonde woman just has an effect on you that keeps you coming back for more.

“You know, you look good with my lipstick all over your face.” A proud smile on Danielle’s face and you can only imagine all of the lipstick stains peppering your visage. She rests her forehead on yours and you swear you could see your own reflection on her eyes. They’re captivating, jaw-dropping and you wouldn’t mind staring at them for a few minutes if she wasn’t pulling you in again. “I wonder what they’ll look like on the rest of your body.” Her lips immediately test out that hypothesis, trailing down to the expanse of your broad shoulders and chest and kissing every single inch of your upper body. Whatever she is doing to distract you is effective because her hands have left your face and are instead trailing down towards your shorts. Both of you groan as your clothed length grinds with her warm underside, clearly she’s just as excited to have your cock out as much as you. You don’t want to make her wait so she gets off of you to pull your shorts and boxers at the same time; you whimper at the sensitivity of your length as it is exposed to the cold air of your room. 

“So hard for me already….” You chase Danielle’s lips again but she purposefully moves away, her eyes focusing instead on your cock like a predator looking at its prey. More kisses, this time towards your neck and collarbones. “You could’ve easily ignored me when it’s this late but you answered.” A hand wraps around your shaft and you whimper; the head is swollen and leaking and you wish she’d just stop teasing you. She removes her panties herself and you’re now both in an equal state of undress. “You even let me into your place, have the unnies been here before?” You shake your head, it’s not like the circumstances allowed. Danielle lives off-campus with her parents while the other two have to live in the dorms. That’s it. There’s absolutely no other reason why this blonde woman is the only one that you’ve invited over.  

It’s definitely not because she has this power over you that not even your girlfriends do. “You have a soft spot for me, huh?” You refuse to acknowledge such a fact, for the repercussions in doing so would mean you’d have to face two angry (but extremely gorgeous) women who were already reluctant to share you with another woman. “We’re not fucking unless you say something.” Her other hand cups your heavy balls, fondling them. Somehow they’re back to being full again despite blowing your load all over her face earlier. 

Sure, a one night stand is perfectly fine and even encouraged but what you two are doing have surpassed that— “Fucking hell, Danielle! Slow the fuck down…” But the opposite of your request is what she does, lips continuing to leave their imprints all over your upper body while her dainty fingers pump your cock at a much faster rate. She doesn’t say anything but instead gives you a look that tells you she will not stop unless she gets what she wants. It’s torturous yet feels so damn good at once, the way she can work you into the throes of an orgasm that threatens to make a mess all over her porcelain skin yet again with just her fingers alone drives you breathless and groaning her name shamelessly. A small part of you is willing to do just that because you don’t even remember if you ever came thanks to someone else’s hands but the thought of her voice sounding raspy and fucked while you are pumping cum inside her lithe body is enough to make you crack under pressure, especially when those deep blue eyes of hers stare at you with so much want and need. But how would Hanni and Minji react? Fuck it, you’ll deal with whatever consequences there will be tomorrow morning. How pathetic. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” It’s almost devilish the way she’s smiling so sweetly and innocently and yet her voice is laced with venom. Her soft hands slow down the pace of their pumping and you are about to lose it. “You’re the only person I’ve ever invited over.” A breathless admission that has your entire body heating up to a feverish temperature. Why was it so hard to admit that? “Now please, Dani. I want you.” At this point, Danielle can make you admit to crimes you never even committed. All you want is her and nothing but her. If it takes losing every ounce of self-control like you’ve already done with Minji then so be it. It was already gone the moment you decided to fuck around with three girls at once anyways. Danielle smirks and lets you take control once again now that she is getting what she wants from you. You get a taste of her lips again when she lays back on the bed—your bed, with you hovering on top of her and hands planted on either side of her head. Because of how much she craves the feeling of your skin on hers, you find yourself crashing on top of her ever so slightly and your cock briefly makes contact with her slit. “Hmmph!” The blonde woman below you whimpers at the sensitivity and you don’t wait any longer. With how wet she has been you find the task of penetrating her quite simple, your cock sinking into her pussy in one clean motion.

Her legs immediately circle around your waist and arms wrapping around your head as you start off slowly. Fucking Danielle is always a breathtaking experience; with her making so much noise which includes moaning your name for everyone to hear, you only need to drink it all in and enjoy every single second. There is also the way she would grab onto you tightly like she is afraid of losing your touch—you can only imagine how clingy she is as a girlfriend. Just like what she is doing now with her nails scratching your shoulders and back while she leaves dark red marks all over your neck. If she wants to mark her territory then so be it, you can only hope that the other girls will be understanding. You groan as you feel her teeth sinking down your neck like a vampire, you know it is accidental because not only is she immediately trying to soothe the pain with kisses but her limbs are now coiled much tighter around you. You must have discovered a certain spot deep within her and you want to keep hitting that spot. “Faster…fuck, fuck, fuck!” You do not waste any second to grant her request, pounding her with surgical precision and she is on the verge of crying in your arms. You are glad you don’t have to worry about the confined space of your car this time around nor do you have to worry about making a mess.

Unlike earlier there is no warning when Danielle cums this time around—only a vociferous moan that makes you thankful your roommate isn’t around.  It’s not surprising considering she was already close to getting herself off when she called you a while ago and it only took having a real cock inside for her to become completely undone. A few more deep thrusts is all you were able to accomplish before she clenches so tightly around your cock and her nails dig deeper into the skin of your back. The room feels exponentially hotter now despite the cold temperature inside the apartment, and you’re both sweating so much that a shower is definitely your next destination after this. Her breath intermixes with yours and you grab the side of her face to kiss her, causing her moans to redirect inside your mouth instead. It’s sloppy, it’s intense, and you find yourself drowning in her lips as you continue to fuck her through her climax. Despite having some insane features on her body, it’s her lips that draw you in the most and you just can’t stop kissing her. “So-so good! Don’t you ever fucking stop!” Not like you were planning to, especially when both of your thighs are so absolutely drenched in her cum now that squelches echo inside your room every time you bottom out inside her. 

Take a look at your bedside clock and you notice that it’s getting incredibly late, it is 3 AM already and you have yet to accomplish the one goal you’ve been salivating towards: to cum inside Danielle. You ignore just how drenched your bedsheets has become and you grab her legs and place them on your shoulders, then leaning forward as you transition to fucking her in mating press. You don’t miss the way her eyes light up when she immediately recognizes what you are about to do. “You better let me fucking cum inside you this time. You promised.” It almost comes off as pettiness the way those words left your mouth but the only reaction you get from her is a giggle and her eyes sparkling with the tears drying up. Knowing her, she probably thinks it’s cute and hot at the same time that you are getting riled up because of her—and rightfully so. You don’t waste time and continue your thrusting, making the bed creak with how hard you’re fucking her into it. You bury your face in the crook of her neck again to inhale the sweet scent of her perfume combined with her sweat. It’s the perfect place for you because her whimpers of your name go straight to your ears and the way she says it with her sultry voice just urges you on.

And tears start to well in the blonde’s eyes again because you are going much deeper in this position, going balls deep with every single motion of your hips. It doesn’t take too long for you to get close either considering you wanted to masturbate at the sound of her masturbating but it’s great that you saved it for this very moment. You can feel your cock throbbing much harder than before and you know you are not lasting for one second longer. “I’m gonna cum inside you.” It’s more of a formality at this point, and you feel her nod—probably because her voice is too hoarse and her mind is too focused on your cock to formulate an actual sentence but it will do either way. Five thrusts you count and you see white; you can’t help the carnal groans of her name  coming out of your mouth as you empty spurt after spurt of thick, hot cum deep into her womb. To make her tight little pussy overflow with so much cum that they coat your cock and drip down to your balls and your bedsheets. Your toes curl and your fingers grip the bedsheet to prevent yourself from collapsing on top of her amidst your euphoric climax. There is absolutely no denying it, Danielle is your best fuck amongst the three.

You pull out beside her on the bed; exhausted, satisfied, and fucked. Danielle is the same and you can see a fresh, wet spot in between her legs along with your cum signaling that she had her own climax as well. She looks tantalizing and even more so when she turns to stare at you before scooting over to place a kiss on your lips. The way her sweat mists across her skin, the way her blonde locks compliment her extremely well. and the way her breast heaves ever so slightly when she attempts to breathe normally again is an absolutely stunning sight. It’s a soft makeout session this time, with her playfully nibbling on your lower lip and swiping her tongue across yours. “So, I hope I’ve made it up to you.”  A brief pause then you resume kissing again. “Because I know l’ve probably drained you more than my unnies just today alone.” She probably has a point but you are not going to give her any upper hand by acknowledging it so you remain in silence by shutting yourself up with her lips. You can feel her smile on your lips and you think that this is how your night ends but Danielle sneakily brings her hand down to fondle your balls and it looks like she thinks otherwise. “But I’m sure you still have one last load for me.”

She stands up from your squirt and cum-stained bed. Her perfectly sculpted body glistening under the warm lights of your room and her inner thighs still dripping with your cum. “Shower?” Then she turns around in perfect timing, showing her perfectly shaped ass that has you considering fucking her from behind again. It doesn’t take long for blood to rush back to your lower regions and you find yourself rock-hard once more—which is perfect because you found yourself pinning her against the shower’s tiles mere minutes later and trying to fuck whatever remaining load there is left inside her. Mission accomplished in that regard and you two actually spent the rest of the time taking a shower. It was a quick, but satisfying one and after giving her a shirt of yours to wear for the night she immediately falls asleep into your arms after a long and tiring hookup session. And as you watch Danielle peacefully sleep, your conversation with her earlier is repeated in your brain about having a soft spot for her and maybe you do because there’s no other way to explain how she’s the only one that can make you feel certain things. You wouldn’t dare fuck the other girls in your place, maybe opting for a cheap motel instead but you didn’t do it for her. And that’s maybe because deep down, you do have a thing for her. The complications of such a realization has not dawned on you yet but you do know that Hanni and Minji will not take it well. 

Yeah, you are fucked.

[prael]

Day 11: Threats And Treats

Newjeans Danielle x male reader smut

words: 4,585 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

She is furious.

She's been in your class for barely a few months, but now she gives you an ultimatum. Either you change her grade, or she'll report you for sexual harassment.

It's a threat that you laugh off.

You have no reason to be afraid. Sure, Danielle's been throwing herself at you ever since you became her teacher. She wears her skirts too short, and her tops too low, and the way she asks you to tutor her privately after school can't be entirely innocent.

But it's not as if you've done anything wrong. You have, in fact, ignored Danielle's advances.

And there's no understating just how hard that has been. She has perched herself on your desk after class and given you a view of her lacy underwear. She has worn her gym shorts to meet you, and the tight material has hugged the cheeks of her firm little ass so snugly that it makes you want to drool. Painted her lips in that deep red that you know would look perfect wrapped around your cock. She brushed up against you in the hallways with a sly little grin and pressed her soft little tits into your side.

"Danielle, get the hell out of my office."

She turns up her nose without a word and she storms off.

-

She doesn't report you. Instead, she shows up at your office an hour later.

You have a lot of other papers to grade. You've had a long week. And Danielle's attitude is making your day even harder. You are in no mood to play games with this bratty girl. You don't look up when she enters. You barely glance at her.

"I'm not changing your grade," you say dismissively as you mark another awful essay with an F and then flip it over. You wonder how Danielle would react if you gave her a failing grade instead.

Danielle is undaunted. "You have to. You know that's not the grade I deserved."

"I scored you exactly like I did the others, and that is the score you got," you reply curtly, looking over another paper. "I can show you the rubric if you'd like, but it won't change your score. Now please, I'm very busy."

She steps closer. You don't bother to look up until Danielle places one slender finger underneath your chin, tilts up your face, and looks straight down at you. The bratty young woman has some nerve. Her touch sends a tingle down your spine, but you try to ignore it.

"I can make things difficult for you," she says. She's giving you this piercing gaze. Her hair is tied back in a neat ponytail and her lips are bright red again.

"Miss, if you touch me again or make any demands of me, I'll have to call someone to have you removed from my office." You look right back into those eyes, trying to keep a cool facade.

"And how would that look? If someone walked in and I am kneeled on your desk." She whispers as she raises her right knee onto it first and then lifts herself up. "Maybe I could have a tear going down my face." She runs her finger down the side of her cheek. "Or maybe I could have my legs spread. What would they think?"

"Get the fuck off my desk."

"Oh, sir. I do like it when you swear at me. It's kind of hot." She smirks and she shuffles further onto your desk. Her knees push away papers and files. She's such a dainty little thing—you've thought that so many times—that you could lift her right off and carry her away by her firm little ass. You wonder if that would turn her on. "I'm not getting down. Not unless you give me the grade I want."

"Danielle. Get off my desk right now." You warn again.

"Sir, we both know I'm not a B student, don't we?" She asks as she runs her hand up her slender thigh, bringing up her skirt with it and giving you a full view of her lacey pink underwear. Her bare thighs are smooth. Her panties look delicate like you could just rip through them with a single hard tug.

She knows exactly what she's doing, the little minx.

"Are you going to change my grade for me?"

She rests her skirt at her hips, leaving herself exposed right in your eyeline.

"Danielle, you're a student, this is unacceptable." There's a quiver in your voice, but it's still the truth. This is wrong, and she needs to be punished. You want to bend her over your knee, pull down her panties and give her a damn good spanking until her cheeks turn the same shade as her lips. Then you want to pull down your trousers, take out your cock and... No.

You wince at yourself. These are not thoughts you can afford to entertain. No matter how tempting Danielle makes them. No matter how good she'd feel (you know she would feel so good). No, you can't do that.

"Sir, listen to me. Either let me work hard for you and earn my A. Or I tell the principal. Tell her how you tried to fuck me," she purrs. Her eyes flash as she challenges you.

She leans forward, pushing more files off the desk as she does. Danielle's small breasts are nearly to your face, and you wonder how her soft flesh would feel pressed against your skin.

"Well?"

Her perfume wafts around you, filling your nostrils with her sweet, intoxicating smell.

"Please. Stop this," you whisper, trying to remain strong. But you know that you can't resist her much longer.

She reaches a hand up and brushes your cheek and her touch tingles against your skin. It wouldn't be so difficult to pull her in right now and give in to all your urges.

"No."

She leans in and whispers, "Then I'll make things even more difficult."

Danielle suddenly clambers off the desk, pulling papers and stationary with her, and down to her knees. Your chair rolls back a few inches, but now her head is right between your legs.

"This isn't going to work," you lie, your breath hitching. Your heart beats faster in your chest as you realize what is happening. You don't want it to work, you tell yourself. You can't want it to work. Not when she is a goddamn student.

"It will. Trust me," she whispers.

And then you feel the button of your jeans pop and hear the sound of the zipper. You can't look down, you just can't. Instead, you stare straight forward at the clock in front of you. Watching it tick slowly.

Your breathing becomes heavier as she fiddles with the waist of your boxers. She's going to get her grade. There's nothing you can do. She knows that now, and it makes her giggle. It is a girly, innocent little giggle, and that makes everything feel so much worse.

You can feel your cock swelling and hardening underneath her fingers, and you know that there's no way to stop her now. Her hand is wrapped around your shaft. And then, her hot breath on your skin, followed by the wet touch of her tongue.

Your eyes shut tight and your hands clench the armrests. Her tongue slides around you and then, her mouth closes over your head.

"Oh, fuck." You breathe. Your whole body is tingling as Danielle starts to suck your cock, her lips wrapped so tightly around you, her mouth so warm and welcoming. She's a little bit sloppy, a little bit too fast, but you can't help loving every moment. She has you in the palm of her hand now, quite literally, and she's working your cock with all the enthusiasm you could ever want from a bratty girl who's decided that you're going to give her exactly what she wants.

Your hands clench into fists, but as Danielle keeps bobbing up and down your cock, you just can't keep them still. You've resisted this girl for so long. You've been a good man, a decent man, despite her constant efforts to seduce you.

You can't be good now.

You let go of the armrest and reach down, and you place a firm hand on her head. She squeals with surprise and delight as you force her down onto your cock, making her take you deeper than she was prepared to go. And that noise only makes it feel even better, sending tingling pleasure all through your skin. You can feel the head of your cock hitting the back of her throat and the pressure as she gags, the vibrations as she moans, and you don't let up. You don't want to.

You hate yourself for it; you know how wrong it is; you know how it would play out if anyone found out; you know you should feel guilty as sin, and yet all you can feel is pleasure as Danielle bobs up and down on your cock.

You dare to indulge at the sight: a beautiful girl on her knees, sucking your cock, taking you deep into her mouth. Lips laden in red gloss stretched around your cock. Wide-eyed, with mascara-coated lashes. You can feel your balls tightening. The heat in your stomach rises as the pleasure becomes overwhelming. She sucks harder, she moans a little louder, and you know you're close.

Maybe it's just how wrong it is that makes it all feel so good. Or maybe it's just because it's her.

"Sir?" She says it between planting kisses on the tip of your cock, all while her dainty little hand jerks at the shaft, her fingers barely wrapping around you. She's been teasing you for so long now. Months and months. You can hardly stand it anymore. "I want to taste it."

Oh god, how you want to give it to her.

"Danielle..." you gasp.

"I've thought about it so often. When you were in the classroom talking theories and applications, all I wanted to do was get down on my knees and let you fuck my face."

"Danielle..." It's all you can say, because what can you say? This is your student, for god's sake.

"You know how many times you left me soaked after a lesson?" Her voice is low and husky, filled with desire, and she has this little twist in her wrist every time she strokes your cock, and she is driving you crazy. "I'd run home and slip my fingers into my underwear and make myself cum."

"Stop."

"Want it, don't you?" she taunts, and then as if it's some rehearsed move, she lets go of your cock. The absence of touch makes you ache with need. She's smiling so wide that her eyes smile too, and there's a gentle laugh because she knows exactly what she's doing. "Then you better change my grade."

She sits back on her haunches, still between your legs, looking up at you with expectation. She glances over her shoulder to your computer—a suggestion (or a demand) to change her grade right this very second, or else the fun stops.

You're a weak man, aren't you? She has your cock out and your heart pounding. She's giving you an ultimatum that you can't refuse, so you're standing up, looking down at her. Your pants have slipped to the ground. Danielle's face is level with your throbbing, pulsating cock.

"You win," you say with a sigh, as you reach over her to type on the computer, changing her grade. You have barely hit the enter key before she's up and wrapping her lips around you again, her moan vibrating your cock. Your reward for breaking the rules—for betraying every ounce of professional integrity.

Your reward feels so good. You grab a handful of her hair and force her head back down onto you. You watch yourself disappear between those red-stained lips again. You don't hold back. Standing over the cute girl, your cock in her mouth, you thrust your hips forward. Every time you hit the back of her throat you feel her gag. She's trying so hard to suppress the reflex. She wants you to believe that she's an experienced little slut, but her red cheeks and her wet eyes give away the truth.

"Good girl. Take it all."

Danielle looks up at you with those pretty doe eyes, so full of mischief. She has won, and you both know it. But you can't feel sorry now. Not with her on her knees, and her lips around you. This has to happen. So you're fucking her mouth, pinning her against your desk, while she grasps at her own chest. Clenching at her breasts through the material of her shirt and squeezing her thighs together in some attempt to satisfy the burning desire you know she feels.

Her jaw hangs open, leaving you nothing more than a hole to use. You can't keep this up anymore, the tension in your body can't take it any more, and neither can she. She's gasping, choking, spluttering, fighting for her breath as you use your grip on her hair to make her swallow every inch.

A smudge on her cheek, where a tear has spilt, and mascara is starting to stain.

"Look at me," you snap, jerking her by the hair as her focus drifts.

"Yes, sir," she replies obediently, locking her eyes right on yours while looking up. You bite your lip. It won't be long. The heat has been rising, and you know you're close.

She seems to know it too, and her eyes seem to say just how much she wants you to fill her. They show you how much she wants to take her victory. That's enough to send you right over the edge.

"Mmh!" she moans as you push your entire cock into her mouth. Her gagging and protesting does nothing to prevent the contractions from running through your cock. She feels like heaven as your cock jerks, and your eyes shut tight while pleasure overwhelms you. You can feel yourself pumping load after load into her waiting mouth. Thick rope after thick rope. You didn't know you could cum like this. You haven't cum like this since...ever.

She's working you as much as her tired state allows, her tongue shifting and coaxing out your fluids. Draining you of every last drop of cum.

You pull out and she gasps for air, chest heaving. Her face is marked, her lipstick smudged. What's left on her lips looks almost as if it's bruising, and you revel in it. She looks spent. Completely used. She's even pulled one hand up to cover her mouth. With this expression, she can't pull off a confident slut act, and this satisfies you. She's panting, like a dog after a hard run.

You both win. Mutual victory. Satisfaction and defeat.

You slide down into your chair, the adrenaline running its course. For now, everything is exactly the way it should be. As if none of this has ever happened. She's checking the screen and grinning. Her eyelids flutter, and she smiles back at you—almost bashful. Relief that she got what she came for.

Danielle is just happy, while you're thinking about all the ways you would like to pin her to your desk.

-

It's now well into spring, the snow has melted and the seasons are changing. You've been waiting for a while. Weeks have passed without her coming into your class or your office or talking to you about the latest assignment.

Not that you've minded. After your last encounter, you're prepared for a little bit of distance. You're still thinking about how things went. (You're always thinking about it.)

It's all going to change today. See, the latest grades were posted this morning, and you imagine that Danielle is not going to be pleased with hers. You picture her stopping by your office shortly, demanding another change, and of course, you're going to oblige. You're getting hard just at the thought.

Even the deepest, darkest, dirtiest corners of your mind hadn't prepared for this. You didn't know Danielle's schedule, of course, but it becomes abundantly clear she came right here from cheerleader practice. Athletic, tiny, and body-hugging—all words appropriate to describe the tiny little cheer uniform she is sporting. Her shorts short enough to almost reveal her full cheeks, and her top is way too thin. Thin enough, in fact, for you to tell that Danielle wasn't wearing a bra underneath, and you could see her pert, perky little nipples—making her excitement obvious.

"Sir, what the fuck is this?" Danielle holds out her phone and points at her grade: a B+. "You'd better do something about it."

She stands across from your desk, the image of youthful indifference, her hip cocked and her arms crossed. It is a stance filled with sass.

"I think you failed to take my instruction, my guidance, properly and for that, I had to dock marks."

"And if I show you now, how well I take instruction, will you increase it?" Her head tilts slightly and her teeth rake over her lower lip, and her tone is so impudent, and something about her attitude makes the blood surge through your veins. It's like every word from her insolent mouth is spurring you on to teach her a lesson. Make her moan and scream your name. Fill her up like you did before and erase that smirk from her pretty, pretty little face.

"There is a little lee-way." A teasing, mischievous giggle. "Maybe there's something we can agree on?" You suggest, your eyes tracking the curve of her toned legs. You can feel your pants getting uncomfortably tight at the thought of making Danielle squeal.

"Where do you want me, sir?"

You both know that the bartering is pointless. This deal isn't new, it's a continuation. "Bend over my desk. Like the good little girl that you are."

She strolls right around your desk, swaying her hips a little bit more than necessary, and you aren't sure if the minx is putting a show on for your sake or whether it's just her natural saunter. Either way, as soon as she puts her elbows down on your desk, you're sure that her display was planned to the smallest detail.

Slowly, she pushes her ass up and back, looking over her shoulder at you. "Can I have a word, please, sir? I'm having some trouble understanding," she calls over to you, the most suggestive smile creasing her face, and you try not to let the effect of her bratty charms bother you.

"Danielle, I gave you ample explanation of the assignment." You remind her. You can't keep the humour out of your voice.

"This is true, but...it's the sort of thing I really need drilled into me." Danielle presses the very tip of one blood-red fingernail to the desk and draws it in the shape of a circle.

"I know the syllabus can be a little... hard," you say as you stand behind her. You lean forward and place your hands on the desk. The cheap wood groans in protest. You can smell her intoxicating perfume. She's definitely been driving you crazy.

"So hard," she whispers as you lean over her body.

"Do you need some extra attention, Danielle?"

"I do, sir." She shifts her body, rolling her lower back and standing on the toes, pressing the curve of her pert little ass against your crotch. "Please, sir."

It has been weeks since you had her. How could you resist a come-on like that? How could anyone? Slowly you slide your hands down her sides and grab her hips. You feel a wave of perverted, forbidden lust as you grip her flesh; she feels so good. She shivers slightly at your touch, which gives you a wicked thrill.

Danielle is so small underneath you, so petite. Your hands move from her waist, stroking along the smooth material of the skirt. She draws in a short breath as you place your hand underneath the little article of clothing. She had removed her panties, as you suspect, she would. So there is nothing to prevent you from stroking the delicate, velvety soft skin of her lovely little pussy. It's already wet—which isn't surprising, but it's even hotter than you could have dreamed.

"Danielle, you don't have underwear," you murmur.

"I know sir, so I guess the next part should be easy." She starts to wiggle against your hand, drawing up that tiny skirt a little further, displaying herself to you.

She's perfectly prepared, so you draw your finger deeper between her soft, silken lips, finding her entrance, teasing her gently, drawing mewling, desperate sounds out of the slutty girl bent over your desk. You take a moment just to savour her gasps and little whimpers. To drink in her pleasure. There's something so damn satisfying, knowing the effect that you have on her. Then, you start to pull your fingers down, toward her beautiful little clit, stroking it, working her little bundle of nerves while her excited sounds just get more and more needy.

You continue to play with her pussy while enjoying the way that her tiny breasts squish against the desk, how her hands are clasping desperately for purchase and how she rolls her little hips against you, eagerly seeking out more. She's so consumed, so lost in the moment that it doesn't surprise you when the question finally falls out of her lips.

"Sir, am I going to get an A?"

That smug fucking little minx. She knows exactly what she's doing. "Yes, Danielle. An A." You promise.

"Give it to me, sir," she says with the most expectant little sigh, and the temptation proves too much for you. So you remove your hand and slip your fingers in your mouth. Tasting her. Savouring her. How far you'd gone. She groans in disappointment as you withdraw, but she stops protesting as she hears the sound of your belt. Is it anticipation that has goosebumps blooming on her skin?

When you've freed yourself from your pants, it is no struggle at all to position your cock between those sweet, soft folds and draw a moan from both of you.

"What are you waiting for?" she whines impatiently, forcing herself back against you, enticing you.

Your only response is to smile and continue to enjoy the sight of her pinned against your desk. Her bare, narrow lower back is fully exposed, leading to such a cute, full little ass that is just aching to be taken. You marvel at her every detail as the head of your cock presses right up against her tight hole, tempting you into her body, luring you in.

"Sir," she whispers, a husky, throaty invitation.

Before any more of her words can fill the air, you start to push inside her slowly. Every inch that passes makes her draw a sharper breath and keeps her gasping for air.

Every whimper that passes her lips spurs you on, while every quivering contraction her pussy performs tempts you to pound every single inch of yourself into her. Every deep noise draws your attention, everything she does is captivating.

By the time your every inch is settled within her, you reach down and grip her shoulder, drawing her body into yours. And she's so darn adorable that she struggles to form the words that tumble over her lips, leaving her face twisted in a mask of effort and need. Her breath stills every time you rock inside her.

You lean over her body, your chest against her back, wanting to sink deeper into her; feeling the beat of her heart and the heat of her flushed skin.

In this moment, as the pace increases, time slows. Danielle's lithe body bows against you with every thrust. Words aren't necessary, her moans are better. They tell you just how much you are pleasing her.

She earns every part of that bump in grade through the slick tightness of her cunt, the arching of her back, the fluttering, clenching massaging strokes, and the beautiful noises tumbling from her cherry lips.

"Oh, my god..." Danielle grunts. "Harder!"

And, of course, that pleasure has a price—your control is slipping, the need is steadily becoming more intense and it's harder to resist, especially when it feels so good, your hips keep rocking, every stroke producing incredible frissons of pure, white heat. And the heat grows. You keep picking up speed, keeping her moans coming.

It isn't long before that gorgeous girl, taut and eager, clenches against your unyielding shaft, as if afraid it would disappear within her. Her breath catches as she reaches the pinnacle, before coming apart with a shrieked vowel. She bites her lower lip and digs her nails into the desk. She rides it out until every last drop of pleasure drains from her body.

While watching Danielle lose herself, your resolve disintegrates. You pick up the tempo, pounding into the pliable, supple and downright fuckable cheerleader. Her sharp, ragged gasps dissolve into a plaintive moan. Every stroke drives you closer and closer to the end.

You lean forward and whisper in Danielle's ear, "I'm gonna cum."

She nods her head quickly and urges you on, "Do it, sir."

So, you wrap one arm around her body and press your chest flush against her back, feeling the movements of her every muscle in time with yours. You can barely believe just how incredible this girl is.

"Fill me, sir," she begs as she reaches for your face. Danielle takes you by surprise as she turns to face you and places a kiss on your lips. It's light and quick, but it makes you spill your load inside her all the same. That slight, innocent contact seals the deal and your whole world erupts.

You're drowning. Drowning in pleasure and satisfaction, the throes of ecstasy wash over you as you continue to buck against your perfect little student. Every thrust leaves you breathing heavier than the last, and it isn't long before your forehead is pressed against her naked back as you pump another wave of sticky, liquid heat deep into Danielle's trembling body.

It is impossible to measure how long you two remain there, the line between where she begins and you end blurred. When you eventually start to untangle yourselves, she slinks away and returns your shared gaze with a satisfied grin.

You sit back and catch your breath, while she starts gathering herself together.

Your eyes trace her figure, the shape of her breasts, the slope of her neck. Danielle notices, because her lips curl up just a little more, and she shoots you the cutest little wink. "I know what you did, sir."

"And what was that?" you ask, playing along. Danielle picks up her jacket from the floor and then slips it on. You watch every movement she makes, your heart thumping in your chest as if trying to escape your ribcage.

She cocks her head. "Well, I think it was pretty clever, actually. But I've caught onto your game, sir. That assignment was perfect, we both know it." Danielle leans in, placing her hand on your chest. "Which means that this was never about grades. In future, you can just ask me, sir." She places a quick kiss on your lips. 

[authorkiki]

I remember - newjeans/njz danielle

x fem reader

6k words // rekindling an old friendship in the dirtiest of ways.

It's not like you and Dani ever really hated each other - but you did have your moments. Maybe you could just chalk it up to how your lives forked in two directions. You stayed in school; she became a star. You're still in your hometown; she's in Seoul, New York, Paris, Hong Kong, L.A. You're single, and she's... well, who really knows? She's not the type to settle down.

The two of you don't talk much anymore, and the last time you did, it ended in a spat. You haven't reached out to her since. Maybe it's just easier that way. Maybe you two just don't fit in each other's lives.

-

The city lights glow underneath a blanket of rain clouds; the stars are hidden, and the moon is nowhere to be seen. The streets are slick with rain, and puddles form in dips in the road. You're at a stoplight, your car idling as you wait for your turn to pass through the intersection. Even though it's late, the roads are still crowded, and the sidewalks are full of people hurrying home. It's not the most ideal weather to be driving in, but it's not all bad. You've always liked the rain.

You hear a distant rumble of thunder. In front of you is a bus stop, where a group of three people are huddled under a small roof. One of them is an older man with a briefcase, and the other is a woman with an umbrella and a raincoat. The third is a woman wearing a long, pink peacoat and a matching hat. She's holding a large bag at her side, and she's looking down at the ground.

The stoplight turns green, and you press on the accelerator, moving your car forward. The rain is coming down harder now, and it's making it difficult to see out of the windshield. The wipers are doing their best to keep up, but they're losing the battle. The traffic moves slowly, and the rain keeps falling. Your headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the road ahead of you.

As you're approaching the bus stop, the person in the pink coat looks up. She meets your gaze, and you instantly recognize her.

It's Dani.

Your jaw drops open slightly. What's she doing here, of all places? You haven't seen her in years. Not in person, at least. You've seen her on TV and in the news, of course. That's where she lives now. The last time you talked, the two of you didn't exactly part on good terms. She'd said something that rubbed you the wrong way, and you'd said something that rubbed her the wrong way, and it escalated into a shouting match. It wasn't pretty.

Now that you've seen her, though, you feel a sudden pang of regret. Maybe you were too harsh on her. Maybe you should've called her back after that. But what would you say? It's been so long, and you're not even sure if she'd want to talk to you. She's probably forgotten all about you by now.

Before you can think twice, you find yourself pulling over to the side of the road. Your car comes to a stop next to the bus stop, and you roll down the passenger-side window. The woman in the pink coat is still standing there, and she's watching you with a curious expression.

You lean over and look at her through the open window. "Dani?"

She squints at you for a moment, and then recognition dawns on her face. "Oh my god." she says, "Is that really you?"

"Yeah, it's me," you say, "Do you want a ride? It's pouring out there."

"Um, sure," she says, sounding hesitant, "I mean, if it's no trouble..."

"It's fine," you say, "Hop in."

Dani nods, and she hurries over to the car door. She opens it and climbs in, closing it behind her. The interior of the car is instantly filled with the scent of her perfume, and you feel a little dizzy.

"Hey, thanks for picking me up," she says, "I was starting to think I was gonna be stuck here all night."

"Don't mention it," you say, "I'm glad I could help."

You pull away from the curb and begin driving again and Dani begins her rant, "Ugh, what a disaster. The meeting ran late and the car never showed up, of course, it started pouring right when I left the building, and I didn't bring an umbrella, so now I'm soaked to the bone. I look like a drowned rat." She laughs bitterly and shakes her head. That's the same Dani you remember, talking a mile a minute and always quick to complain. Some things never change.

You don't answer her right away, not knowing what to say. The last words you said to her were full of anger. What could you possibly follow that up with?

"Look, about last time," Danie begins to say. Oh, here we go. The apology. You brace yourself for it, but it doesn't come. Instead, Dani just continues, "I don't even remember what we fought about. Isn't that crazy? We were both so mad at each other, but I can't remember what started it all. Can you?"

You can. Of course, you can. You remember every detail of that argument. But you don't want to dredge it all up again, so you lie, "No, I don't remember either."

"Exactly!" she exclaims, "It was stupid. All that yelling, and for what? Some petty bullshit that neither of us can even remember anymore. We were being idiots."

"We were," you agree. You weren't. You both had every right to be annoyed. But that's not the point.

"Friends?" she asks.

You nod. "Friends."

"I'm so glad the world sent you to me today," she says, grinning at you. "What a crazy coincidence. You're the first friendly face I've seen all day."

You glance at her, then quickly turn your attention back to the road. "I'm glad, too," you say. "It's good to see you again." And it is, you realize. Despite everything, despite how things ended between you, it's good to see her again.

"So where are you heading?" you ask, realising you'd been on autopilot and heading towards your apartment, not even stopping to think where she might need to be.

"I was gonna get the bus back to the hotel," Dani replies and it's followed by a ponderous silence. You know where this is going, and you can't help but feel a little bit excited by it, "But if you're headed home, maybe you'd be open to some company?"

"Yeah," you say, "That sounds nice."

"Great," she says, "Let's do it."

Your heart is beating faster, and your hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly. You can't believe you're actually doing this. You and Dani haven't spoken in years, and now you're bringing her back to your place? What are you thinking? But you know what you're thinking. You're thinking that you want to make things right between you two and that this is the perfect opportunity to do it. You're thinking about all those confusing nights you spent alone with your best friend in college, the way she'd crawl into bed with you after a party and wrap herself around you like a snake, how her lips would sometimes graze against the skin of your neck, how her hands would sometimes wander beneath your shirt. You're thinking about how much you missed her, and how much you've wanted to see her again.

-

You let Dani step in first, and she does so with an almost effortless grace. She takes off her coat and hat and then hangs them on the rack next to the door. You didn't see it before, but now that she's taken off her hat, your jaw is hanging agape. "Dani, your hair." It's short, blonde, and bobbed - a far cry from the long, brown locks you remember.

"Yeah," she says, running a hand through it, "It's new. Do you like it?"

"Yeah," you say, "It suits you."

It served as a distraction - however momentary - from the body she just revealed. She was your awakening, a year ago, and in all that time you've never been able to find someone quite like her. She's slender, with long legs and toned abs. Her breasts are small but perky, and her nipples are hard and visible through the fabric of her bra from the cold. You can't help but stare at them, and you can feel your cheeks getting warm, and you haven't even had the chance to admire her cute butt in those jeans.

"Thanks," she says, "I wasn't sure about it at first, but I think I'm getting used to it."

"Want anything? Drink? Food?" you ask, desperate to change the subject and pull your eyes away from her chest.

"Wine?" she asks and you gulp, "I've had a long day."

You nod and go to the kitchen. You open a bottle of red and pour two glasses, then bring them back out to the living room. Dani is sitting on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her. She looks so comfortable and relaxed, and you can't help but smile at the sight of her. You hand her a glass of wine, and she smiles at you in return. You sit down beside her, and she takes a sip.

"Mmm," she says, "This is nice." Dani turns to you, her brows furrowing as if she's sensed your nerves. "What is it?" she asks.

"The last time we drank wine together..." you trail off, taking a drink yourself to stall for time.

"We got a little too close," she says, her voice low, "But that was a long time ago."

"Yeah," you say, "It was." You pause, not knowing what else to say. Dani doesn't seem to mind. She just sips her wine and then sets it down on the coffee table.

"Do you remember how it started?" she asks.

"I don't really want to talk about it," you say, hoping that will end the conversation.

"Oh, come on," she says, "It's not like you to be shy."

"I'm not shy," you say, "I'm just..."

"Embarrassed?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. You don't reply, and she takes another drink. "It's okay," she says, "I mean, we were young. We were experimenting. It happens."

"Yeah," you say, "I guess."

Dani leans closer to you, and you can smell the wine on her breath. "Do you ever think about it?" she asks, "About that night?"

You can feel your face getting hot again, and you take a deep breath. "No," you say, "Not really." It's a lie. You think about it all the time.

"Really? It didn't change you?" she says. She's teasing you. She knows exactly what she's doing.

"No," you say, "Of course not." Another lie. It changed you completely.

Dani smiles and sits back. "I think about it," she says, "Sometimes. Even when I fuck a guy, sometimes, my mind will wander. It's hard to explain, but there's a different... energy to it."

"Different?" you ask.

"Yeah," she says, "Like, with a guy, everything is so... linear. There's a beginning, and an end, and there's not much room for anything else. But with you, it was like we could go anywhere. Do anything. There were no rules. No boundaries. Just... freedom."

The room is quiet. The only sounds are the ticking of the clock on the wall, the rain on the window and the beating of your heart in your ears.

"Do you know why I got mad at you? Like, really, deep down mad?" Dani asks.

You shake your head.

"Because you made me feel things that I'd never felt before," she says, "And I was scared. I was scared of what that meant, of who I was becoming. I was scared that I'd lose control of my life."

"Dani..." you start to say, but she cuts you off.

"I'm not done," she says, "After that, I went on a lot of dates. A lot of dates. I fucked so many guys. I did everything I could to prove to myself that I wasn't... that I didn't like girls. But it didn't work. It just made me more confused. And then I'd think about you, and I'd remember that night, and it would all come flooding back. And then I'd hate myself for it. I'd hate myself for wanting it. I'd tell myself that I was sick. That I needed help. That I was broken." She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "I'm still working on that."

"I'm sorry," you say, "I didn't know."

"How could you?" she replies, "It's not like we've talked in years." She sighs. "I'm not trying to blame you for anything. I'm not even sure if I'm making any sense."

"You're making sense." You take her hand, reassure her. "Dani. I lied. I changed too, after that. I've never stopped thinking about you. But I couldn't do the whole friends thing. I knew if I saw you again, I'd want more. And I thought you didn't. So... I kept my distance."

She nods, and she looks at you. You meet her gaze, and she holds it. "Even now, I want to kiss you." Her words send a jolt of electricity through your body.

"We shouldn't." It's the last thing you want to say, but you know it's the truth.

Dani sighs. "But you're so pretty." She turns away and sinks onto the couch, closing her eyes. "God, I'm a mess. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here."

"No," you say, "It wasn't a mistake." You reach out and take her hand, squeeze it gently. "We needed to talk about this."

"But now I'm just gonna lie here and fantasise about kissing you," she says, "And then I'm gonna go back to my hotel room and touch myself to the memory of that night."

"Dani..." you trail off, unsure of what to say. Your heart is pounding, and your stomach is in knots. You can feel your clit throbbing between your legs.

"Sorry," she says, "I shouldn't have said that."

"No," you say, "Don't apologize. I just... I don't want to make things worse. For you."

She opens her eyes and looks up at you. "Then kiss me."

"I can't," you say.

"Please," she says, "Just kiss me."

You look into her eyes, and you see the desire there. The hunger. The need. You know she's not going to back down, and you know that you can't resist her.

You lean down and press your lips to hers. You feel her body shudder as you kiss her, and you pull her close. Her tongue slips into your mouth, and you moan softly. You can feel her breasts against your own, and her hands on your back. You kiss her harder, deeper, and through it all you're just falling against her, sliding into her lap. Her hands slip under your shirt and slide up your sides, her thumbs rubbing against your stomach, and your ribs. You break the kiss and bury your head in her shoulder, gasping for breath. Her fingers find their way to your breasts, and she squeezes them gently. You whimper, and you can feel her smile against your neck. You reach down and begin to undo your pants, but she stops you. "No," she says, "Not yet."

"Why not?" you ask.

"Because I want to take my time," she says, "I want to enjoy this." You can't help but agree. You don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, but tonight, you're going to savour every moment. You lie back on the couch, and she straddles your waist. You wrap your arms around her, and she leans down to kiss you again. Her lips are soft, and her tongue is warm. You can feel her hands roaming over your body, touching you everywhere. You moan into her mouth, and she bites your lower lip. You grip her waist - her tiny little waist - and pull her down onto you. She grinds her hips against you, and you can feel her warmth radiating through your clothes.

You slide your hands up under her shirt, and she raises her arms. You lift the fabric away from her body, and she helps you pull it off. You toss it aside, and you stare at her in awe. She's wearing a bra as tiny as her pert little mounds deserve, and her skin is smooth and pale. You reach up and cup her breasts, and she arches her back.

"Your hands feel so..." she begins, but trails off. You don't need to hear the rest. You know exactly how she feels because you're feeling the same way.

"Take it off," she says. You reach behind her, and she arches her back even more, thrusting her chest out towards you. You slip open the clasp of her bra, and she slides the straps down her arms. You toss the bra aside, and she leans forward. Her breasts hang above you, her nipples inches away from your face. You lick one of them, and she gasps. You wrap your lips around it, and you suckle gently. Her hands find your hair, and she cradles your head as you worship her tits. You switch from one to the other, back and forth, until she finally pushes you away. You look up at her, and she smiles down at you.

"Now it's your turn," she says. She lifts your shirt over your head and tosses it aside. She leans down and kisses your neck, and you close your eyes. You feel her teeth scrape across your skin, and you shiver. She moves down to your collarbone, and you feel her tongue trace its way along your shoulder. She moves further down, and her mouth finds your nipple. She sucks it into her mouth - more aggressively than you did to her - and bites down lightly. You moan, and you can feel her smile against your breast. She continues her assault on your chest, alternating between sucking and licking, biting and nipping. You run your fingers through her short blonde hair, and you pull her closer.

"Dani," you whisper. She stops and looks up at you. Her eyes are wide, and her cheeks are flushed. You're so wet for her. You can't take it anymore. "You're making me..."

"Me too." She takes your hand and pulls it between her thighs. You can feel the heat of her cunt through her jeans, and you groan. You press your fingers against the seam of her pants, and she grinds herself against your hand. You squeeze your legs together, and you can feel the pressure building inside of you. "I'm so horny." She rubs her crotch against your hand - hard - and her tight stomach flexes. Every roll of her body is mesmerizing. Her tight, flat tummy rolls and ripples with each gyration of her hips, her tiny, perky tits bouncing with each movement. Dani's body has always been something special, something that you could never quite get over.

"Can I... take them off?" you ask. Your fingers are already fumbling with the buttons of her jeans, and she's nodding, helping you slide them down her legs. You're both panting heavily, and your hands are shaking. You push them all the way down to her ankles, and she kicks them off. You look at her panties - cute little pink cotton - and you smile. "These are cute."

"Thanks," she says. She's blushing furiously, and her eyes are glazed over. "They're new."

"They suit you," you whisper, "But they have to go."

She nods, and she lifts her hips off of you. You slide your fingers into the waistband of her panties, and you begin to tug them down. She raises her legs in the air, and you pull them off. She lowers her legs and spreads them wide. She's completely naked now, and her pussy is glistening wet. You reach down and touch it, and you can feel the slick heat of her skin. She moans, and she grips your wrist. She guides your hand up to her clit, and she begins to grind against your fingers.

"I remember how good you are at this," she whispers. You rub her gently, circling her clit with two fingers. She moans louder, and she wraps her arms around your neck. You can feel her lips on your neck, kissing you, sucking on you. You can feel her teeth on your skin, and you shudder.

You slide one finger inside of her, and she moans again. Her walls are tight, hot, and slick. You curl your finger, and you find that spot that you know will drive her crazy. You massage it, and she gasps.

"Oh god," she moans, "Just like that. You know how I like it." You rub her faster, and harder, and she grips your shoulder. You can feel her nails digging into your flesh - hard enough to leave marks - but you don't care. She's breathing heavier, her little chest heaving, and her stomach tensing. She looks so perfect that you could just eat her - taste her - devour her. You lean forward and capture one of her nipples in your mouth again, and she cries out. You lick and suck on it, and you keep working her tight pussy with your hand. You can feel her tense up, and you know she's close.

"Dani," you whisper, "I'm gonna make you cum."

"Please," she whimpers.

You move your mouth to her other nipple, and you bite down lightly. She cries out, and her body spasms. You feel her pussy contract around your fingers, and you know she's cumming. You keep rubbing her, keep pleasuring her, letting her petite body writhe uncontrollably in ecstasy. This is everything you've been missing, and you're not letting her go without a reminder of that, so you touch her right through it all. She shakes, she sweats, she cries out your name. Her hips buck, her muscles flex, her toes curl.

She flails an arm, gently trying to push you away when she becomes too sensitive, so you relent, wrapping your arms around her instead, pulling her close into a hug.

"That was amazing," she whispers. She's breathing hard, and her hair is stuck to her forehead. Her eyes are glazed over, and her lips are parted. Dani runs her hand down your back - fingertips tickle bare skin - until it rests on your ass, where she grips tightly. "Your turn," she says.

"My turn," you repeat. It sounds surreal coming out of your own mouth. Truth is, you feel as if you could cum from the slightest touch. Dani presses her lips against yours, and you kiss her hungrily. She pushes you down flat on the couch and then moves down your body, kissing your neck, your chest, and your stomach, until she gets to your jeans. She pops the button and unzips your fly, then tugs on the waistband of your pants. You lift your hips, and she slides them down your thighs. You raise your feet, and she pulls your jeans off. You're lying on the couch in only your panties now, and Dani's staring at your exposed skin. Her eyes are wide, and her cheeks are flushed.

"You're beautiful," she says. She reaches down and cups your pussy, rubbing it gently through your underwear. She leans forward, resting her forehead on yours. Her breath is warm, and she smells faintly sweet. She's still touching you - stroking you lightly, teasing you. You whimper, and you try to push yourself into her palm, but she keeps you at bay.

"Dani," you beg. You grab her wrist and try to force her hand between your thighs.

"Not yet," she whispers. She takes your wrists and pins them to the cushions above your head. You strain against her grip, but she doesn't budge. "If I let go of these," she asks, "Will you keep them there? Hands above your head?"

"Yes." You nod frantically.

Dani releases your wrists, and she places a hand on each side of your face, holding you steady. Her mouth meets yours, and she kisses you passionately. Her tongue invades your mouth, and her lips are soft. You kiss her back, and you moan into her mouth. She breaks away from the kiss and smiles at you.

"Keep them there," she repeats.

"I swear." You don't move your hands. You wouldn't dream of it. You're helpless before her; exactly where you want to be. Exactly where she wants you. Dani starts by kissing her way down your neck, nibbling on your skin, and she whispers, "You're so hot. God, I forgot how hot you were."

"Dani... Please," you whine.

"Just relax," she soothes. She reaches down and strokes your pussy again, rubbing the wet fabric of your panties against your slit. "Is this what you want?" she asks, and you shake your head.

"No," you whisper, "Take them off."

"Mm-mm." Dani shakes her head. Instead, she just hooks a single digit under the waistband and pulls them higher, the fabric rolling over your wet pussy, giving some relief in one place and uncomfortable tension in another, "Tell me how much you want this." She moves the damp cloth against your sensitive bud, sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body. "Do you like it when I play with you through your panties?"

"I... I love it," you stutter.

"And if I take them off?" she asks, "Will you let me fuck you?"

"I'd let you do anything," you admit. Your cheeks are burning. You can't believe that you're saying this stuff out loud. But it's true. If Dani wanted to put on a strap-on and pound you into submission right now, you'd probably let her.

"Mmmm..." she hums. She traces her finger up and down your slit, slowly, and she watches you squirm beneath her touch. She does this for minutes. Minutes. Touching, teasing, tormenting. She knows that you're on edge, that you're desperate for relief, but she just keeps dragging this out.

"I can't," you start to protest, "Dani, please." Your fists are clenched, your knuckles white. You're straining against the urge to disobey, to reach down and shove her hand harder against you. "I need you inside me."

"Mmmm..." Dani purrs. She slides your panties to the side and slides her fingers between your folds. Your juices drip onto the sofa cushions as she explores you, spreading you open, teasing your opening. Her thumb brushes against your clit, and you moan. "You're so wet," she whispers, "Are you enjoying this?"

"Yes," you answer, "More than anything."

Dani laughs softly and continues to explore you. She dips her fingers inside of you, probing you gently, and you spread your legs wider, eager for more. Her fingers slide inside you easily, and she pumps them in and out of you, causing you to buck and writhe on the couch. Her other hand comes down and presses against your abdomen, steadying you. You feel your walls clenching around her fingers, trying desperately to hold onto them, and you cry out.

You've missed this. Not just being with a girl, but this girl in particular. No one else makes you feel the way Dani does.

"Dani," you whisper.

"I'm right here," she reassures you.

"Don't stop," you beg.

"Shhh." Dani silences you with a kiss. Her lips are gentle and loving, and you surrender to her. She slides another finger inside of you, stretching you even further, and you arch your back, pressing your hips against her hand. You're fucking yourself on her fingers, grinding your hips against her palm, and you're moaning into her mouth.

You're getting closer. Closer. The tension in your body builds and builds, and you feel like you're going to explode. You're rocking back and forth now, fucking yourself with Dani's fingers, and she's matching your rhythm, letting you set the pace, encouraging you with words, "That's it, baby. Take what you need. Fuck my hand like a naughty girl."

The world goes white for a second as your climax hits. Your legs shake, your arms spasm, and your back arches. You scream loudly, and you feel yourself contracting around Dani's fingers. You ride wave after wave of pleasure, and Dani holds you tightly, keeping her fingers buried deep inside you, milking your orgasm.

As the tremors subside, you collapse backwards, exhausted. Dani removes her fingers from inside you and brings them to her mouth, cleaning you off her fingers. Your chest heaves with each breath, and you stare up at her dazedly. "You taste amazing," she says. Then she leans forward, planting kisses down your chest. When she gets to your stomach, she licks a long strip from your belly button all the way down to your mound. You squirm underneath her, and she smiles up at you wickedly. She buries her face between your legs and flicks her tongue over your clit.

"Dani," you moan. You grab a handful of her short blonde hair and pull her closer. She licks you again, and you buck your hips upward, pushing your pussy against her mouth. Dani's tongue swirls around your clit, and she sucks it into her mouth. You look down and see her staring back up at you, her bright eyes framed by her dark lashes. Her mouth is covered in your juices, and her expression is one of pure lust.

"Dani!" you exclaim. Your legs are shaking, and your whole body is trembling. Dani continues licking and sucking on your sensitive clit, and you feel yourself starting to come undone.

Dani grabs onto your thighs and spreads them apart as wide as they'll go. She slides a hand under you and cups your ass, lifting your hips slightly, bringing your pussy up to her waiting mouth. Then she attacks your clit with renewed fervour, alternating between licking and sucking.

The sensation is overwhelming. You're on fire. Dani's tongue is magical, and you don't think anyone else will ever be able to make you feel this way again. You throw your head back, pushing it into the upholstery, and you grab onto the cushions of the sofa. Your hands twist and bunch the material, and your toes curl. The waves of pleasure coursing through your body threaten to overwhelm you entirely. Dani is relentless. Her mouth works your clit, her fingers pump in and out of you, her free hand kneads your ass. It's almost too much.

You arch your back, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge of another orgasm. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably. Dani moans into your pussy as she feels you clenching down on her fingers. She pulls away for a moment to say, "Cum for me, baby," and that's all it takes to send you over the edge.

You're not even sure what words spill from your lips, but it's probably something filthy. Your entire body convulses violently. You buck against Dani's mouth, fucking yourself against her face, riding her tongue and fingers, and your vision goes blurry. You're cumming so hard that you forget where you are. Dani holds you close throughout your orgasm, her grip on your ass tightening, her fingers inside you curling. Her mouth stays firmly attached to your clit, sucking on it, drinking you in.

As your climax subsides, you fall back down onto the couch, limp. Dani withdraws her fingers and lowers your hips back down to the cushions. She crawls up your body and kisses you deeply. You can taste yourself in her mouth.

"You're amazing," you tell her.

"So are you," she replies. She cuddles up beside you on the couch. Your skin is slick with sweat, and you're panting heavily. Dani traces patterns across your stomach, occasionally dipping lower to brush your inner thigh or tease the outer lips of your dripping pussy.

You lie there together in silence for several minutes, catching your breath and enjoying each other's company. Eventually, you speak up.

"So..." you begin.

"Yeah?" Dani looks over at you.

"What happens next?"

"Anything we want," she answers. "Everything." She leans over and kisses you again, gently. You melt into it, losing yourself in the feeling of her soft lips on yours.

When the kiss ends, you open your eyes and find yourself staring into her beautiful brown ones. You smile shyly at her. "We have all night," you say.

"Do you remember that thing we wanted to try, but we both chickened out?" Dani asks. A memory flashes through your mind, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. "You could take me to bed and..."

-

Dani's sprawled out, head on your pillow, legs wide, naked and glistening. She's gorgeous, and she wants you. You can't believe how lucky you are. You move close, one leg under, one leg over hers. Your bodies meet, softness to softness, heat to heat. You press your sex to hers. For a brief moment there is only lightest contact - a tantalizing awareness - and then, very gradually, you press close. Slowly enough for you to feel every exquisite sensation - and then you're locked, you fit together.

A moan escapes you, and your eyes lock. They stay focused on each other as you begin to undulate gently. Back, forth, tiny delicate circles. Each motion produces wonderful sensations, an intricate ballet of tenderness. This is unlike anything you've done before. So different from the needy grasping of earlier in the evening. The way your pussies slide against each other - you've never felt so intimate, so connected.

Dani puts her hands on your ass and hips to guide you as you rub yourselves together. Her small breasts bounce with each motion. You speed up a little, rocking back and forth, finding a rhythm. A soft hiss of pleasure comes from Dani. "That's so good," she whispers. She closes her eyes and throws her head back against the pillow. You watch her face as she enjoys the moment, and the sight of her blissful expression sends an intense surge of excitement coursing through your body.

The movements intensify, faster, harder, and less controlled. The sensations grow stronger, richer, and deeper. You feel your clit pulsing between your slick lips, and you can sense hers doing the same. A fiery pressure rises inside you. You start to feel dizzy, disoriented, overwhelmed.

Dani looks deep into your eyes with a look of raw desire and determination. She pushes upwards with her hips and pulls you down toward her simultaneously. Your bodies clash together with more force than ever. She's taking control now. Holding you firmly. Taking charge.

The change shocks you and ignites you. It's powerful, primal, erotic. Your hips slam against her with urgent need. Again, again, harder. The pleasure spikes higher and higher. The world spins around you as you surrender completely to her grasp. Higher, higher, higher...

You're falling back, reaching out behind you to prop yourself up, Dani is rising, reaching out towards you, grabbing a fistful of your hair. Your bodies keep moving together in perfect sync, sliding smoothly across each other. Everything disappears except her and the searing flames engulfing you both. You reach out to her too, you hold each other upright as you grind together. There is no sound beyond the roaring fire inside you.

"I could fuck you all day," Dani groans. "All night." She tightens her grip on your hair.

"All night," you breathe, barely hearing the words leave your mouth. Barely believing them. "I need you."

Her gaze locks on you. Her mouth hangs open in wonder. "Oh my god," she gasps. And then there's no holding back. The two of you are hurtling downhill, picking up momentum. Climax rushes inevitably closer. You give yourselves up to it entirely, careering along at full throttle. "Cum with me." And you do.

A great wave sweeps away everything but pure rapture. Time stops. Thought vanishes. Only pleasure remains. Ecstasy blasts through your body again and again in crushing waves. It feels like flying, it feels like floating, it feels like exploding stars. There is only joy - only Dani.

Forever passes.

Time returns. The explosion subsides. The tide recedes, leaving behind only warm, soft sand. Gentle lapping surf.

Dani sags gently backwards until she rests against the bed once more. You follow, collapsing limply. Skin against skin, heart beating next to heart.

[danidrabbles]

Cardinal

Pairing: Logan Howlett ("Worst" Wolverine) x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (for themes and smut).

Word count: 16.6k

Summary: At the edge of the world, someone from another keeps you from stepping off.

Tags/Warnings (Please, read the warnings!!): Post-Deadpool & Wolverine, female reader (female anatomy etc + 2 mentions of hair long enough to fall into your eyes), strangers-to-lovers, depression, suicidal ideations, suicide attempt and mentions thereof, addiction, drinking alcohol, drugs (mentioned not used), panic attacks, sobriety meetings, anxiety, recovery, co-dependency vibes, sprinkles of soulmateism, explicit smut (oral and unprotected PIV), happy ending (yay!!). If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Notes: Deadpool and Wolverine re-triggered my X-Men obsession and what started as a means to write some smut actually became this idea about two broken people who shouldn't even have met in the first place finding each other. There's a lot of me in this story, more than there's ever been I think. I'm sorry for this glimpse into my head, and I'm sorry if this isn't as Reader-insert as it should be, but... I'm not that sorry, you know. Huge thanks to @javier-pena , for not only reading this over and fixing so many embarrassing mistakes, but also for saying she'd read this even if it was 20k words and always believing in my abilities as a writer, even when I sometimes didn't.

If you want to read the smut as a standalone, you can! Just CTRL + F (or search in page) for 'Logan reaches for' and read away.

THE LOOKOUT

With closed eyes, you inhale the cool, December air, before looking down at your feet. Here, at the edge of the lookout, the grass has been trampled. You imagine friends taking bets on who dares get closest to the edge, lovers making memories, families taking pictures. It’s strangely soothing that maybe you’re not the first to stand here to do this. 

Far below your feet, the water laps at the rocks. The force of it depends on the weather and tonight it’s violent, with big splashes and crashing sounds. The wind tugs at your coat, pulling you towards the water as if to help you along, making you look up again as you hold your balance. In front of you, the line of the horizon is dark but visible – it would have been impossible to make out if the moon hadn’t been as bright as it is.

It’s like you’re looking at the edge of the world.

During the weeks that fall had made way for winter, you scoped the place out a couple times. The first time you stood at this cliff’s edge, the place it took you to mentally scared you so much that you got back into your car and broke down in tears. The next couple times, things became more and more serious, as your life crumbled around you, and your feelings numbed, and nothing seemed to matter anymore.

Something had crept in while you weren’t looking, settling somewhere behind your eyes and spreading out to make a home behind your ribs, slowly but surely changing you. And once you realized it, it was already too late. It had grown large, became jilted and jealous, like it wanted all of you. It pushed away everyone and everything you held dear, until it was just you and that… something.

Especially during the quiet of the night, the lookout became soothing, a strange sense of familiarity enveloping you each time you were here. It was addictive and pretty soon, it became a daily routine to visit. But lately it’s been losing its shine, your feelings here dulling and darkening too. You’re exhausted, fed up, tired of giving it more of you.

Today you want it to be your last time here. 

You’ve had countless hours to contemplate what it would be like, imagined – all but romanticised – how the cold water would paralyse your limbs if the impact wouldn't do the trick. You read somewhere that it’s apparently like falling asleep when the water finally fills your lungs. You’ll be gone, but the thing will be too.

The thought makes your eyes fill with tears, but not from fear. All you feel is relief, like it’s right, how it’s supposed to be. It makes you smile despite everything, and–

“Hey, stop!”

A voice behind you thunders through the silence and makes you shriek into the night, dirt toppling over the edge of the lookout below the shuffle of your foot. A string of curses follows, heavy footfalls behind you indicating that the intruder is approaching you.

“Fuck off!” you throw over your shoulder, your voice a roar with how it’s amplified by the wind. 

After, your throat closes up, fighting the angry tears over the fact that you can’t even fucking kill yourself in peace. Never have you seen anyone here at night, never. What you hate even more is how it breaks your momentum. The haze that was surrounding you is pierced, and your body’s baser instincts kick in. Adrenaline suddenly pumps through your veins, making your legs tremble, your heart hammer, your body scream for you to step back from where you’re standing. Your anger, however, has you nailed to the floor. 

You almost miss the much softer, “Hey,” as a man steps into your peripheral vision. You pretend like you don’t hear him, or see him – you simply pretend he isn’t there, focussing on getting back into your previous mindset. 

But then he takes his hands out of his pockets.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you warn, hating how your voice comes out trembling – weak.

“Easy.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

You stand there together for what feels like hours. You will yourself to not let it affect you, setting your jaw to keep your teeth from clattering on account of the cold, allow the wind to blow your hair into your eyes without brushing it away. Even when it begins to rain, you don’t move, don’t blink even once more than you need to. From the corner of your eye you watch the man shove his hands back in the pockets of the brown leather jacket he’s wearing, and you quietly celebrate that your surroundings are fazing him more than they are you.

“You know–” he begins.

“I’m not really looking for a conversation.”

“Me neither,” he immediately counters, suddenly impatient, “so I’ll get right to it: You planning on jumping? Because if you think the water’s gonna be nice to you, you’ve got that wrong. You’ll end up in there feeling everything, that fall isn’t gonna do shit.”

Having expected a gentle approach, his bluntness and his tone knock the wind out of you. You cock your jaw, the shame creeping up your body the first bit of warmth you’ve felt in a while. Your cold fingers ball to fists as you will yourself not to care. Yes, his words and the way he's shatteríng your expectations with them sting, but you don’t even know this guy–

“And there’s nothing fuckin’ peaceful about it, it’s just panic. Right before you go too far…” He raises a fist and holds it against the center of his chest, “...there’s this burning right here that’s hell.”

“And what makes you such an expert?” you finally spit out.

“Died like that a couple times,” he says without waiting a beat.

The casual statement of something so bizarre beats your resolve before you know it, your head turning in his direction. “‘A couple times’?”

“I, uh…” You watch him hesitate, the moonlight illuminating the tick of his jaw, the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way his chest falls as he sighs, “Let’s just say I can’t die.”

Before you can stop yourself, you snort at that. “That must fucking suck.”

He barks out a laugh, “Got that right.” It startles you when his head suddenly turns to you, when he looks you in the eye for the first time. “But trust me, being down there isn’t much better.”

There’s something in the way he looks at you that makes you waver. You can’t really place it, or decipher why it makes you want to open up to him. Maybe it’s because you’re freezing and it’s your body betraying you, tricking you into moving so you can generate some warmth, moving your lips to keep them from going blue. Or maybe it’s simply because he’s a stranger and it’s so much easier to be honest when there are no consequences.

“Things just feel so…,” you begin, voice shaky. Every possible way to end the sentence crosses your mind, seemingly all wrong, before you settle on what’s closest to how you feel, “endless.”

To your relief, he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t tell you to give it time that it will get better, or any of the other bullshit you’ve heard from all the other people that had been in your life and left a long time ago. You do find something else in the shift in his eyes, something you haven’t encountered before.

Understanding.

It might be worse. If anything, it’s overwhelming, making your eyes dart away from his as you sniff. 

The wind still tugs at you, the waves still hit the rocks, but your moment seems to have passed. It’s a sobering conclusion, a twisted version of wrong place, wrong time. Or maybe it was him who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, the outcome is the same.

You take a step back, and another, but it takes considerable effort; you hadn’t taken your numb legs into consideration. You stumble, falling back on the dewy, cold grass, not quick enough to catch yourself on your hands. With a groan, you move to sit upright.

“Shit. Hey, you still with me?” The stranger kneels next to you, fingers lifting your chin to look into your eyes. “Jesus, you’re fucking freezing.”

“No s-sh-hit,” you retort.

He sighs, offering you a hand so he can pull you up. “C’mon, let's get you warmed up.”

– – – – –

Logan.

That’s his name. 

It’s how he introduced himself, anyway, after he suggested you follow him. To his credit, he did offer to drive you, but you didn’t want to leave your car in the parking lot of the lookout. Logan waited 15 minutes for you while you put the blowers on the highest, warmest setting and waited for the feeling to return to your limbs. After, his brown truck led the way here – here being some hole in the wall, 24 hour diner. You could have not followed, but the drive was kind of mesmerizing; the night seemed darker than usual, and Logan’s tail lights served as a lighthouse.

Outside, the diner is all Christmas lights and flashing signs, but the interior is like something straight out of Twin Peaks; booths to the left, red barstools to the right, a girl that looks too pretty and too young to be here standing behind the counter. There were two other patrons you spotted along the way as Logan led you to one of the back booths. Once seated, Logan studied the pamphlets–or pretended to, more like, because as soon as the waitress came up he ordered two whiskeys and nothing else.

Between then and now, as you nursed your drink sip by careful sip, you hadn’t learned much more about him other than that he could knock back a glass of whiskey like he got paid to do so. And in truth, you like it this way; preferring silent company, the droning of the machinery behind the counter and the quiet hum of a song on the jukebox next to the entrance. The white noise helps to distract from the white noise in your head. Settling back into the leather cushions of the booth, you let some warmth seep back into your body. Opposite you, Logan does the same. 

Some moments after you finish your drink, one of the waitresses walks up to your booth to ask you about a refill, like she’s asked Logan twice now. You’re handing her the glass when Logan says, “She’s had enough.”

Your head whips from her to him. “Excuse me?”

He doesn’t say anything, and from the corner of your eye, you see the girl leave. With your glass. Logan’s is on his lips, his eyes observing you over the rim, looking at you like he– Dammit. You sigh deeply, a sense of anger filling you. You don’t need this, least of all from him. When you stand from the booth, those eyes follow you, making you voice your observations,

“Quit pitying me, Logan.”

“I’m not,” he says before taking another sip. “You still have to drive.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “And you don’t?”

Logan shrugs. “It’s different for me.”

Anger is still prevalent in your voice when you ask, “Well, let me guess, it’s another case of ‘I died like that a couple times’?” 

He hums.

“And how does that work?”

“Regenerative ability,” he sighs. Another sip before he elaborates, “X-Gene.” 

The admission makes you plop back down in your seat. Well, that explains things – he’s a mutant. You’re not familiar with that world, but you know enough to know it meant that. It isn’t like you couldn’t have deduced it before, but truthfully, you kind of thought he was bullshiting you as part of some tactic. Now, his actions and words make more sense: He really knows what it’s like to... That’s why he had that look on his face. Suddenly, you see him in a different light–

“Now who’s pitying who, hmm?” Logan asks, giving you a thin-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes as he sets his glass down on the table.

“I’m not, I’m just… processing. So this...” you lift his glass, swirl the contents around, “...doesn’t even affect you?”

“It does. For a few seconds.” He plucks the glass back from your hand, and throws the whiskey back with one gulp. His pupils dilate, pushing the hazel of his irises out until his eyes are almost black for a second, two… before going back to normal. “But if I chugged the bottle, I’d pass out.”

“Well, so would I,” you say with a chuckle. “So maybe we’re not that different after all.”

Just as the corner of his mouth lifts, your smile falls, because… it isn’t true; you’re very different. You’re pretty sure you don’t have what it takes to do what he did tonight. To care enough to do it. To sit with a stranger and hear them bitch and moan about being denied a drink. A feeling creeps up on you, sticky and uncomfortable, like you’ve overstayed your welcome—burdened him.

“I should head home,” you say, standing again.

Lightning fast, Logan’s hand shoots out to close around your wrist. “That really where you’re going?”

“Yes,” you reply. When you pull your hand back, he doesn’t let up. You fish your car key out of your pocket with your free hand, voice tighter when you say, “Let me go.”

“Just promise me something,” he says, eyes as dark as they’d been earlier, yet his drink has gone untouched since. “Don’t go back there again.”

“Not making promises I can’t keep,” you say, giving him a wry smile. “To strangers, but least of all to myself.”

He sighs, and lets you pull yourself from his hold.

THE CRAVING

New Years comes and goes, and you quickly discover that it was foolish superstition to think that it might change how you feel.

You find yourself in some club, a drink in each hand. You hate to admit it, but Logan’s words scared you out of your original idea and the only time you can bear to think of how to move on from it is when alcohol soothes the embarrassing grief of your shattered, macabre fantasy. It’s not a good way to deal with things, but it works.

There’s a part of you that welcomes feeling anything at all, but that… something inside you is busy trying to squash it. 

It’s getting somewhere, because you have no idea how much you’ve already had to drink, but you’re buzzing pleasantly. Adding to it, you knock both drinks back, slamming the glasses on the bar before spinning around and facing the crowd of dancing bodies. The music sucks, the dance floor is cramped, you’re tired… The truth is that you’re too old for this, but it’s easy to escape here, surrounded by strangers. You clumsily drag the back of your hand over your wet mouth, push your sweaty hair from your eyes, and join them.

The past couple weeks, you found yourself craving something. Contact. And here is where you can get your fill; a hand on your waist, lips on your ear, the music too loud and yourself too drunk to even comprehend what’s being said, but never more. You want them to get close, but never too close.

After some time – could be an hour, could be 10 minutes – you make your way to the bathroom. It’s quieter here, the dulled thump of the music making the time you spend there feel slow and syrupy. 

When you exit the stall, you bump into someone.

It’s a man. The dark hood over his head obscures his eyes, but you can’t help but think he’s looking right at you when a bright, almost unnatural grin appears on his face. It draws you in like a magnet, more so when he says, “Need something to take the edge off?” 

Curiously, you watch as he opens his palm, long fingers unfurling slowly until they reveal a small plastic bag in his hand. 

“First time’s on the house.”

You have no idea what it is exactly, but your eyes widen. This is new territory for you, and all the possibilities it opens up are suddenly invading your mind. As if on auto-pilot, you reach for the place where you keep your money, the sound of the door opening completely lost on you.

A hand closes around your bicep, pulling you aside with a quick yank of an arm.

“She isn’t interested, pal.” 

It’s another man, who effortlessly tucks you half behind him. Before you can protest beyond an indignant huff, there’s a sound, like a sword being unsheathed, and you catch a flash of red, and of knives. Frowning, you try to get a better look, but your view is obscured by the man’s shoulder. The hooded man seems undeterred, regarding the weapons with the same sickening grin, before leaving the bathroom, muttering something that you don’t understand on the way out. The sword sound returns, the man twists around, and–

“Logan?” you slur in disbelief. 

Logan doesn’t reply, instead takes hold of your arm again, making you follow him out of the bathroom. There he stops the two of you to murmur something to a woman wearing the same clothes as him, before tugging you along again. You’re stumbling after him on account of his pace and the iron grip he has on you as he leads you to the back door. He pushes it open with enough force to make the hinges creak, a gust of wind blowing in your face. It’s a contrast to go from the crowded, sweaty club to the silent, cold back-alley where tall brick walls and employee cars cage you in. You shake your arm and Logan’s grip loosens – another and he lets you go.

“How did you even find–” You cut yourself off, eyes widening, “Oh, my god, are you following me?”

Logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “Oh, please, do you think I have time to follow you around all day?”

“You’re here, aren’t you? You and your fucking…,” you gesture wildly into the air at him, “savior complex.”

“I work here,” he growls. When you give him a look, he adds, “It’s temporary. ‘Sides, me and my savior complex are the reason that creep isn’t selling god knows what to you in that bathroom right now!” His voice is a roar, echoing off the walls around you.

“Maybe I wanted that creep to sell god knows what to me in that bathroom,” you say, doing a poor impression of his voice, before turning and walking away from him.

Logan sighs. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.”

“And then what, huh?”

“I don’t fucking know, Logan,” you say, twisting around to face him again, arms spread out by your side. “Figure out a new way out of this.”

“Yeah? Third time’s the charm?”

“Why do you even care, huh? You don’t even know me,” you say. Almost immediately, you let out a bitter laugh as your own words hit your ears, a sad realization dawning on you. “But I guess that makes two of us.”

It’s not like you expected him to, but he doesn’t answer.

“You know I used to like myself? I used to smile, I used to have friends, I used to be more sober than drunk. But this feeling, it takes… everything.” You raise a fist, hold it to the center of your chest. “It takes everything I love, pushes away everyone I love, including myself. It eats me up, and wants more and more, until I’m something I’m not and until I’m so far away from that version of myself, my old self, that it feels easier to just fucking–” you pause with a wet gasp for air.

“Destroy yourself,” Logan finishes for you.

Your chest heaves, an unshed tear clings to your lash line. “Exactly.”

He takes a step closer to you. “Let me take you home,” he says, voice gentle. 

You should hate the implications of that gentleness, but you don’t. In your drunk state of mind, it’s easier to admit it’s nice that someone understands, that someone’s there to stop you from going too far… 

Tomorrow, when some of your pragmatism returns, you’ll deny this embarrassing thought ever occurred; if relying on other people worked, it would have worked a long time ago, and you wouldn’t be standing here with him. If you’re lucky, you might even forget this entirely, and wake up with a hangover that you’ll enjoy a little too much because it feels like a punishment–

“What about your job?” you ask with a sniff.

Logan’s palm finds the space between your shoulder blades with a gentle push, the warmth of it seeping in through your clothes, and he leads you to his truck. “They’ll manage without me.”

– – – – –

When you wake, your world is tilted sideways, a blanket is pulled up to your chin and there's a pillow under your head. They’re not your own; the blanket is itchy and the pillow’s too small. When you try to move your legs, they stick uncomfortably to the material below them, and you realize you’re on a leather couch. You squint at the light that comes in from a window across from you–

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

The voice startles you, eyes shifting to focus on the source: A man lying on his front on the floor, chin in his hands as he kicks his feet back and forth in the air. 

“Wish I could say it’s a pleasure, but it hasn’t been very pleasurable. You’ve been barfing up the place since the moment you stepped inside. Kept poor Al up all night. Her ears are sensitive,” he adds with a whisper. “But don’t worry, she left about an hour ago.”

“Who are you?” you slur, blinking against the light.

“Logan.” He sighs when you frown. “I know, not how you remember. This is what I look like during the day; blessed with incredible good looks at night and, well,” he gestures at his face that’s covered in scars, "this, during the day. Bit of a reverse Princess Fiona situation–”

“Cut it out, Wade,” comes the sharp protest from next to you. With considerable effort, you turn your head and see the actual Logan, slumped back in a recliner next to the couch, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes while motioning for the other man to go.

“I’ll let you two talk.” Wade winks.

Logan stands when Wade does, walking from your field of view. Your head is scrambling to catch up, trying to piece together what happened last night, but only coming up with bits and pieces.

“How are you feeling?” Logan asks as he makes his way back to you, handing you a glass of water.

You flinch when the front door closes behind Wade with a bang, before taking the glass from Logan and taking a few thankful sips. “Like shit.”

“Yeah,” is all he says as he sits back down.

“What–”

“You fell asleep in the car. Didn’t know where to take you, figured the couch was the safest place.”

“Oh…,” you say, voice small. 

You try not to think about being so wasted that you had to be carried out of Logan’s car, or about what Wade said earlier about the things that happened as soon as you stepped inside the apartment. During your silence, Logan’s fingers fiddle with the armrest, before his hand balls into a fist, and it unlocks something in your hazy memory.

“I have the weirdest memory of you having… a sword?”

You watch as Logan’s lips purse in amusement. His tongue rolls around in his mouth, seemingly contemplating something, before saying, “You probably saw these.” He holds up his fist, flexing his forearm before three blades shoot from between his knuckles like claws, accompanied by a shing!

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you startle, spilling some water on your blanket. Your head spins with your hangover and the bizarity of the situation. If it didn’t sound so much like how it did in your memory, you might think you were still drunk. 

There’s so many things you want to ask, your intrigue almost winning out over your hangover until the sharp start of a headache gives you pause. Instead, you take another sip of water before rubbing your temple.

“It’s a story for another time,” Logan says, like he can read your mind, and you want to ask him that, too. His claws retreat, the cuts they leave between his knuckles immediately smoothing over until they’re gone. “I gotta go check if I still have a job.”

The words make you feel warm all over, the memory of your back-alley conversation coming back in full force. The thought of the things you admitted to him and that you put him in the position that he had to risk his job for you make you feel even warmer, your gaze no doubt laced with embarrassment and worry when you look at him.

“‘S not your fault,” Logan assures, standing and fishing his car key from the pocket of his jeans. “You don’t have to rush but um, make sure you close the door behind you on the way out. Gets jammed sometimes.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, watching as he makes his way to the front door. 

He takes a final glance at you over his shoulder, then leaves, accompanied by a bang.

THE PUZZLE

It takes you a little over a week to muster up the courage to go back. Admittedly, your courage is aided by another, foreign feeling. You don’t have a name for it yet, or maybe you’re afraid to call it what it is, but somewhere along the week, you became consumed with the thought that feeling like you did wasn’t all there was. That there is something beyond this. 

Perhaps foreign wasn’t the right way to describe it, because it is something you’ve felt before – it’s just been long dormant. The last time, it lasted about a month before it all came crashing down, and you swore you wouldn’t fall for it again, but you can’t help it. The feeling’s too sweet, and the idea that there’s still some baser instinct willing you to keep fighting for yourself makes you feel like the sun is shining on you. 

So yeah, maybe you’re just having one of your good weeks, where the thing sleeps – quiet while its presence still simmers. But you figured now’s your chance to take advantage of its unguarded moment.

Sneaking into the building is surprisingly easy. It helps that it isn’t anything fancy. You wanted to forego the humiliation of ringing the bell and him not letting you in, but standing in front of the door now, panting after climbing three flights of stairs, you don’t know if this is much better. 

Just when you’re about to knock, the door swings open. In the opening, Logan has one arm in his jacket, head twisted to watch the other that’s caught halfway in the sleeve. It takes him almost bumping into you to realize your presence. “Shit, sorry.” He steadies himself with a hand on your arm, the touch leaving you as fast as it appeared.

“Hi,” you breathe, taking a step back to give him a little more space.

He nods in greeting. “Brings you here?”

It takes you a moment, caught off guard by him skipping over pleasantries and cutting right to the chase, despite your best intentions; it’s not that he’s ever been any different in his interactions with you.

“I came by because I, um, owe you an apology, for my behavior at your workplace and for, you know…,” you trail off, gesturing at the door.

“Barfing up the place!” comes a shout from inside the apartment. 

Logan’s eyes close with a sigh, before he steps into the hallway with you and closes the door with a bang. 

“That,” you finish sheepishly. “I’m really sorry.”

He nods in acknowledgement.

“I also wanted to ask, um, if you want to come with me to get a coffee. To make it up to you.”

Logan just looks at you, the leather of his jacket creaking as he crosses his thick arms in front of his chest. He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly. You hate how he somehow can see right through you, how he makes you elaborate, and honest.

“I want to quit drinking,” you say, fiddling with the sleeve of your coat. “It doesn’t make me better, and when I don’t do it I finally feel a little… normal. Maybe coffee’s technically just as bad, but it’s the only thing that’s currently acting like… like a reverse gateway drink? And I feel like you’re the only person I know that might get that feeling of–”

“I do,” Logan cuts in, voice softer than before – assuring. His arms drop from where they’re crossed and he starts making his way to the stairs. “Let’s go.”

– – – – –

You don’t know this coffee place, and from the way he looks around and shifts around in a chair that might be a bit too small for him, neither does Logan. Main reason you picked it is because the booths remind you a little too much of a bar – and you like the tall windows. The coffee’s pretty decent.

“Did they fire you?” you ask, picking at a loose corner of one of the laminated menus before setting it back in its holder.

“Boss commended me for helping a customer, but not so much for leaving before my shift ended,” Logan replies. “Got off with a warning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Said that already, and I accepted,” he says. When he takes a sip of the coffee, he winces. “No need to worry about it anymore, okay? I would do it again.”

You nod, folding your hands around the warm cup in front of you.

“But, um, Wade hasn’t shut up about… the incident.” There’s a different tone to his voice, like he’s trying to lighten the mood. “His words.”

“You know, I kind of get the feeling that Wade doesn’t shut up about a lot of things.” It comes out a little meaner than you intend, but it makes Logan laugh and finally slump back in his chair a little. 

“You’re a quick study.”

Offering him a short smile in return, you continue with the other real reason you came to see him, before you chicken out. “I also stopped by because I wanted to, uh… because I realized I never really… I never… I never thanked you, for um… And–”

With a shake of his head, Logan sits upright. “Y’don’t–”

To your horror, your eyes brim with tears, “Logan, I’m supposed to be dead–”

“So am I,” he counters. He lets the words hang between the two of you for a moment, until you look at him, before he continues, “I’ve been where you are. Past it, even.”

You don’t know what to say to that, if the lump in your throat will even permit you to speak, but it’s impossible to look away from him. Logan’s gaze is piercing, frown ever present, but it’s not from anger. Instead, it’s like he’s searching for something, the right thing, to say. The silence doesn’t bother you; if anything, it makes his words seem more genuine when he does speak,

“I had someone who was annoying enough to not give up on me when I could really use it. If getting a coffee with you that’s, frankly…,” he makes a face as he pauses, “a horrible excuse for a coffee, helps… I can do that. I want to do that.”

The corner of your mouth lifts as you blink away your tears. “Was it Wade?”

Logan lets out a chuckle, and it’s honest – fond. “Yeah.”

“Figured,” you say. “How did you meet him?”

Across from you, Logan stills. You swallow thickly, adjusting yourself in your chair. It’s an innocent question, but maybe it isn’t something he’d like to revisit right now. Logan’s mug squeaks when he grips it tighter, and he looks at you with something like defeat– 

It makes you deflate. This must be what you looked like the night you met…

There’s no way to have prepared for what he tells you next: That he came from another timeline about three months ago, that he and Wade saved this one from being destroyed and almost got killed in the process, that he has nothing to go back to after the death of his team, so he stayed here. 

There’s hesitation in it, like he isn’t telling you the whole story, though you don’t comment on it. He doesn’t owe you anything and you’re too busy putting all the pieces in the Logan-shaped puzzle in your mind together; his words and actions towards you are starting to make more and more sense.

“It’s a very brave thing the two of you did,” you say when he’s finished.

“Hmm, it was all Wade,” Logan muses. “He did it all for the people he cares about.”

“I’m sure you would have done the same if you were in his place.”

At that, he lets out a dry laugh with absolutely no joy behind it. “Do me a favor, don’t put me on a pedestal.”

You frown, but before you can comment, he stands. A knot forms in your stomach, worried you’ve offended him, but he clears up the uncertainty immediately.

“I gotta go but um, Wade’s friends–,” he stops himself, correcting, “our friends are coming over to watch a movie, next week, 7:30. I have no idea what crap they’re going to be watching but… it’s nice. It’ll be nice to be around good people.” Logan doesn’t wait for your answer, simply takes his wallet from his pocket and leaves enough money to cover the bill.

“Wait, no, I invited you,” you protest. “I should–”

“You can pay next time.” 

When you nod, he says his goodbyes with a jerk of his head and makes his way to the door.

– – – – –

You see Logan two more times for coffee that week. He never lets you pay.

THE PANTRY

“–but it’s the best one!” Wade protests, DVD in hand.

“They fly a car into space, Wade,” Laura sighs.

“Launched off a jet,” he corrects. Like it helps.

You cover your mouth with the back of your hand, hiding the smile that appears at everyone’s babbling. Unbeknownst to you, you had found yourself invited to a double feature night, with Wade as the self proclaimed DVDJ. The credits had barely started rolling on A Good Day To Die Hard, or Wade had another DVD at the ready. It was met with the same amount of enthusiasm as when he presented the first.

It hadn’t been easy to make yourself go to this tonight. On your way, you’d thought of turning around at almost every step. Of course, that was all before you knew it would be this fun, and that you’d be relieved you hadn’t canceled last minute. Even meeting everyone hadn’t been as bad as you feared. 

There’s Peter, Wade’s friend. Ellie, another one of Wade’s friends. Yukio, Ellie’s girlfriend. Laura, Logan’s daughter. Mary Puppins, Wade’s small, disgusting but adorable dog, who had greeted you with equal amounts saliva and enthusiasm, before falling asleep next to the TV, completely unbothered by the commotion. Unlike Althea, Logan and Wade’s blind roommate, who had taken one listen to the gaggle of voices and left. The elusive Vanessa, Wade’s ex-but-we-might-get-back-together you heard about a couple times, wasn’t there.

Logan had been right, it was nice to be surrounded by good people. Especially good people who were… unconventional. It made joining them less complicated, less performative, and as the evening progressed it made you a participant instead of a silent observer. Wade even called you, “good for the group dynamic,” and it made you beam with pride.

“Don’t they have like, rockets attached to the car?” Ellie questions, to which Yukio’s eyebrows knit together.

“Exactly!” Wade exclaims, mistaking her confusion for enthusiasm. “Citizen Kane wishes.”

There’s more grumbling from everyone when Wade pops the DVD into the player, and he grumbles something back about how Logan would back him up if he wasn’t in the bathroom because he, quote unquote, goes way back with some of these dudes.

You’re pretty sure he’s the only one who knows what he’s even talking about.

An empty bowl of popcorn rests in your lap, and as you put it on the table, you notice how sticky and greasy your fingers and palms are. When the opening credits begin to roll, you get up to wash your hands, assuring Wade he doesn’t need to pause the movie before you go.

The apartment’s small, so it isn’t far to the kitchen, but it’s nice to stretch your legs. You can still hear the sounds from movie night; tell-tale action movie music, comments of disbelief and Wade shutting them down. They’re more faint, though, more so when you turn the tap on and wash your hands.

Right as you’re finished, you hear a dull thud. You turn the water off, head tilted and at attention while you dry your hands. There’s another sound, like a muffled groan. It’s coming from the pantry, you realize, noting that the door is slightly ajar. There’s a shing! sound followed by a distressed grunt, and before you know it you’re walking over, wrapping your fingers around the door to pull it open–

You’re not sure what it was you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Logan’s sitting on the floor, uncharacteristically small, curled up against one of the walls. His chest is heaving, shoulders all but going up to his ears with how he’s trying to draw in breaths. Next to him, his fist is balled against the hardwood, claws buried in the floor.

Fuck.

Dropping to your knees, you wedge yourself between his. “It’s okay, you’re having a panic attack,” you explain, your hands landing on his shoulders with a light shake. “You need to breathe. I’ll help you, just look at me.”

Logan’s head stays tipped down, a deep, rattling breath sailing from his mouth as he curls further in on himself.

“Hey!” you say sharply, cupping his jaw with two hands and tilting his face up, “Look at me.” 

Logan’s eyes are wet when they meet yours, moving frantically as they search your face, tears spilling over when he blinks. Something changes in his gaze, like he finally sees it’s you, and his bottom lip begins to tremble. His hand lifts from where it’s buried in the floor, clutching onto your wrist like a lifeline.

“Breathe,” you instruct, trying not to flinch at the sharp claws in front of you. He doesn’t catch on immediately, so you overdo the purse of your lips when you blow out a breath before exaggerating an inhale through your nose, showing him what to do. It starts off shaky, a fresh set of tears falling from Logan’s eyes as he does as you instruct, but after a couple of times you find a rhythm together. The silver between his knuckles slowly disappears. “There you go, good job. Keep going.”

You sit like that, until the wild shift of his eyes stops, his pulse steadies beneath your fingertips, and eventually his eyes close with a deep exhale. His grip on you loosens and you take it as your cue to let go of him, slumping back against the wall opposite him with a sigh of relief. The both of you catch your breath, sitting together in silence until Logan breaks it.

“Came outta nowhere… suddenly I was back there… letting them down.”

“It caught you off guard, it happens–”

“I let them get killed,” he says, voice raw. “They were like– They were my family, they trusted me to be there for them and I… I was too caught up in my own bullshit. I should have been with them, I should be dead with them.”

Logan’s tears still come, but the words almost sound reverent; as if saying them out loud just to punish himself with his own shortcomings is a balm. He’s talking about his team from there, you realize, and something clicks. All this time, you thought this was about him being unable to die due to his mutation, but it’s more than that. It’s shame, remorse, grief, survivor’s guilt, all wrapped into one.

It’s the final piece of your mind puzzle that makes his picture appear.

“How– How can I ever atone for that?” he asks. “How can I ever–”

“Logan, you can't change your past,” you interrupt carefully. “You made your choices and they made theirs, and you honored them by– by…stepping up to the task, by doing what you did with Wade.”

“What if it wasn’t enough?”

“What if it was?” you counter. Your hand finds his knee with a squeeze, before adding, “You did what they would have done. And now you… you need to allow yourself to honor their memory without feeling like you have to destroy yourself to do it. You deserve that.”

Logan blinks at you, eyes still glossy. He looks devastated yet calmer than before, like the emotion is still there, but displaced. For a good while, you sit with him like that while his sniffles lessen and his breathing returns to normal… until there’s a loud explosion coming from the living room. It’s followed by cheers and hollers, and you’re both suddenly reminded of where you are. 

“C’mon,” you say, patting Logan’s knee before using it as leverage to haul yourself up with a groan. You give him room by holding the door open for him. “Better get back before we miss the good stuff.”

Still on the floor, Logan exhales heavily. “Think this was the good stuff.”

– – – – –

Three weeks later, on your way to your third movie night, you catch Wade and Vanessa making out in the building hallway. 

It stops you dead in your tracks and makes for an awkward meeting with Wade’s mystery woman, who is beautiful but very direct when she asks you what the fuck you’re staring at. Wade certainly has a type when it comes to the company he keeps… He quickly shushes the situation, introducing the two of you, and it immediately makes Vanessa’s expression twist into recognition. 

“Nice to meet you,” she says, followed by an apologetic smile. 

You respond in kind. 

When Wade tugs at her jacket impatiently, they brush past you and make their way to the exit. “See you around!” she throws over her shoulder.

A grin forms on your lips, realizing what you just witnessed, and you race up the stairs. With Wade gone, you’re not sure if there will be a movie, but at least you have gossip to share with your friends.

THE MEETING

April flies by, rolls into May, and thing’s are… okay.

With some help, you find a therapist. It’s good, she’s good, but it’s difficult to be confronted with things that are painful, week after week, and to keep reminding yourself it’s all part of the process you’re going through.

Last week, after a particularly difficult session, you’d left her office being auto-piloted by dark feelings, like they knew exactly when to strike. You had turned corners and crossed streets, wandering as you stewed on everything you’d discussed –  like your mind was playing a constant loop of your most painful moments. It was a small miracle you had heard your phone, and that you had the presence of mind to thumb the green button.

You’d answered without saying a word.

“Got any plans?” Logan had asked on the other side of the line.

“No,” you’d replied, coming back to yourself a little bit at the sound of his voice.

“Al’s making her meatballs – she and Wade can’t agree on if they’re famous or infamous. Thought you might like to come. If it tastes like shit, we’ll order in.”

You’d hummed, managing to ask, “What time?”

It had stayed quiet on the other end, and that’s how you’d known he was onto you, could picture the pinch of his brows, his lips forming a thin line. For the first time, you welcomed it—wanted so badly to reach through the phone, shake his shoulders, ask for his help and accept it, like he had done with you weeks ago. 

“Sounds to me like now might be good.”

“Yeah,” you had agreed, the constricting tightness in your chest easing up. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” You’d released a shuddering breath, ear still pressed to the phone as you took in your surroundings before you auto-piloted yourself to a different destination. 

“Logan?”

“Still here.”

“Thank you for calling.”

“‘course. Get here soon, I’ll stay on the phone.”

The afternoon had ended with Logan and yourself allowing Althea to boss you around in the small apartment’s kitchen, rolling meatballs, sharing stories — Althea’s recollection of something that happened to her in her 20s that involved her stealing a police horse while wearing nothing but a thong, made you cry from laughing.

The meatballs were the best you ever had, though you couldn’t be sure if they actually were, or if it was just the taste of the moment that was better than anything had been that day. 

Sometime after dinner, Logan had nudged your shoulder to show you a little plastic chip. He flashed it at you long enough that you could read the words one month, before he pocketed it again. Then he suggested you come with him next week. 

“I thought it was bullshit too, but it helps,” he’d explained. “Figured I couldn’t continue to drink whatever that stuff is you call coffee to… avoid my problems.”

You contemplated his suggestion. Things were going well for you in that regard, but your therapist had also recommended you go to one of these things, even if it was just for the community aspect of it. It just made it so… official. Your problems, but most of all, your recovery. You weren’t good at keeping promises to yourself, and this felt like a big commitment. Not to mention the speeches and other people’s problems...

But as Logan told you more about it, the location, how it had been for him, you sensed something else between the lines: He wasn’t just asking for you, he was also asking for himself. Maybe… this was his way of telling you he needed some support. 

That’s how you find yourself inside a high school gymnasium a week later. It’s as gloomy as you expected. Slick floors, gray fold-out chairs set in neat rows, buzzing lights in a high ceiling, and a slightly raised podium with a whiteboard that reads a welcome message in capital letters. 

Unsure of what to do, you follow Logan as he weaves through the crowd to find a seat. As you do, it strikes you that there’s a pretty even distribution of people, with many genders, ages and lifestyles represented. Eventually you take a seat; not quite in the back, but definitely not in the front. 

The whole thing goes by in a blur, but where you expected to be overwhelmed, you feel… connected. Here you are, surrounded by people with different backgrounds, different lives, but all their stories have something you can relate to. Where you thought addiction was the common denominator, it’s actually the desire to turn your lives around that unites you the most.

“Before we end the night I want to circle back to last week, when we spoke about goals, or things we want to work towards,” says the woman leading the meeting – you’re ashamed to admit you already forgot her name. “Does anyone want to share something about that?”

It takes a lot to hide your surprise when Logan raises his hand. 

“Logan! Come on up!” She sounds as surprised as you feel, beckoning him to her.

The plastic chair he sits on creaks when he stands and his boots squeak against the shiny floor as he does as she asks. He looks so out of place on a podium; both larger than life behind the lectern and lost to the space of the stage. He clears his throat as he retrieves a paper from his pocket and unfolds it while his eyes scan the room until they land on yours. You give him a little nod of encouragement, and it kicks him into gear.

“Not good at this stuff, so I’m going to keep it brief,” he starts. 

It earns him a chuckle or two from the other attendees, and you can tell he doesn’t expect it when he looks up from his paper. Your hands clasp together with nerves as you watch him divide his weight from one leg to another, before focussing his gaze back down.

“My life has changed a lot over the past few months. For the first time in a long time, it’s not all bad. Coming here has been good. I’m starting to feel more like I did before–” 

He stops his monotonous droning with a frustrated sigh, stuffing the piece of paper in his pocket and sounding considerably more lively after. 

“I have people I care about again, and um, it scares me. ‘Cause I don’t want to let them down, and every day I feel like I will because of all of my… past shit.” He pauses and swallows hard before he continues, “They show me so much kindness and understanding, that… that even though it’s fucking hard, I want to be able to see myself the way they see me. And allow them to care about me without feeling like I… have to earn it all the time, without destroying myself to do it.” 

You exhale for what feels like the first time in an eternity.

“So, that’s what I’m currently working on.” Logan sighs. “That’s it. Thank you.”

A small applause follows, and you quickly unclasp your hands to join in.

Your palms hurt after.

– – – – –

“It was really nice, what you said in there,” you say, fingers caressing a little plastic chip of your own that you keep safe in your coat pocket. You haven’t felt proud of yourself in a while, but tonight you do.

The evening is nice, the setting sun bathing the city in hues of orange and pink. Your pace is slow and comfortable, your arm occasionally brushing Logan’s when you make room for all the other pedestrians. You didn’t plan on him walking you home, but he insisted and you enjoy the company – it makes you a little sad when you turn onto your street.

Logan scoffs in reply. 

“I’m being serious,” you say, knocking your elbow against his arm on purpose now. “It was nice for people to hear a guy like you say those things. I’m proud of you.”

You swear he blushes. “A guy like me, huh?” he asks, almost amused.

It’s your turn to scoff. “You know what I mean.” 

“A mutant?” He looks at you from the corner of his eye.

“No,” you say, because it’s not what you meant, but the hint of seriousness in his voice and the fact he’s not entirely wrong make you track back. “Well, maybe that, too, but I meant someone who looks like you, allowing themselves to be vulnerable. Sets a nice example.”

Logan doesn’t shoot your comments down like you expect. Instead, he seems to consider your words, maybe he even silently accepts the compliment. “Think you have some things to say that could set a nice example, too.”

“Maybe next time.”

During the comfortable silence that follows, you’re reminded of something you’ve been considering for weeks now. You hadn’t paid much attention to it since that night, but as you worked through the feelings that got you to that point, the question kept coming back.

“I’ve been wondering something,” you begin. “The night we met... What were you doing at the lookout?”

Logan glances at you, contemplating the question. “When I had just, um, gotten here, it wasn’t always easy to adjust, you know? So I went to all these places that I knew from back there, to ground myself, to see that things may be different, but that they’re not that different.”

“You went there on your side?”

He hums.

“By yourself?”

He hums again.

“Did you…” You hesitate to finish your sentence, both because you’re not sure if you have any right to ask and because you’ve reached your building. You stop walking, and Logan follows your lead. 

“No, no, no, I… I can’t explain it, it’s just one of those places I was always drawn to,” Logan says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans with a shrug. His brows furrow suddenly, his mind seemingly lost in something before his eyes flick back to yours. “Think it took me coming over here to find reason in it.”

It’s a thought that’s equal parts sad and lovely. 

The silence that follows hangs between you, thick with something you can’t place, but Logan doesn’t look away from you, eyes scanning your face before they land back on yours. You can’t help thinking that maybe this is how he does it, and the question comes out before you can help it,

“Is mind reading part of the X-Gene thing?”

His eyes widen – amusement or surprise, you can’t say. “It can be.” 

“Can you do it?”

“No,” he says. “And it’s for the best, fucking hurts when you can’t control it.” Then the start of a smile begins to form on his lips. “‘sides, I don’t know if I would have a lot of… consideration for people’s boundaries.”

It makes you chuckle. “Right. Not to mention some minds are probably a lot – imagine reading Wade’s mind.”

“Hurts to even imagine,” Logan says, gesturing for you to be quiet as he winces, but a smile breaks through anyway. When your shared laughter dies down, he jerks his chin at the building behind you, “This your place?”

“Wha–?” Going home long forgotten in the moment, you glance over your shoulder. “Oh! Yes.”

“All right,” he nods. “See you next week?”

“Definitely,” you reply.

“Oh,” Logan says right before you turn around. “Bring coffee? You owe me.”

You make a face at him. “You don’t have to– I’ll get you something else, I know you don’t like it.”

“I like it when I drink it with you.”

It’s incredibly hard to hide your grin. “Okay, I’ll bring coffee. See you next week, Logan.”

“See you.” 

He lingers, watching you climb the steps, waiting until the door opens after you turn your key in the lock. It’s not until you close the door, when you can only make out his silhouette through the patterned glass window in it, that he walks off.

THE SUMMER

Walking back from a very successful job interview, you find yourself on your way to your friends with a big, plastic bottle of coke under your arm. It’s a warm feeling to know that you’ll soon have a job that suits you and that you have people to celebrate with; you look forward to seeing them and sharing this with them.

You’re invited inside with open arms, tight hugs, exclaimed praise and congratulations, and it makes you giddy, a feeling so foreign that you wish you could bottle it up right this instant. With a grin, you shake the Coca Cola bottle, before twisting the cap off. You let out an excited shout as you watch the foam shoot out from the top, bubbles and dark liquid pulsing down the neck of the bottle as cheers surround you.

It’s not champagne, but Althea grumbles about the soda ruining her floors, Wade gets mismatched glasses from the cupboard, and Logan clinks his glass to yours and tells you he’s proud of you.

It’s way better than champagne.

– – – – –

You’re in serious, desperate need of a new place… 

The August heat is relentless, and the entire building’s AC isn’t working. It’s with considerable effort that you manage to make your way to your friends’ place, the promise of a constant, cold stream of wind the only thing that keeps you going. But when the front door opens, it isn’t with the welcoming, cool waft of air you were hoping for. Instead, there’s no temperature change, only Wade in his underwear.

“No.” It’s a little embarrassing how you literally pout, but these are desperate times. “Here, too?”

“If it wasn’t this fucking hot I’d be offended by that greeting.” He sighs. “Come in.”

Slightly defeated, you shuffle past the threshold, while Wade lingers. Mary Puppins trots by, an ice-pack wrapped in a towel secured on her back, and you catch a glimpse of Logan exiting the bedroom. He’s in black shorts and a ribbed, sleeveless shirt, and with a desperate groan, he lets himself fall back into the recliner in the living room. 

“Tried everything, there’s no fixing that fucking thing.”

Wade makes a face, “Listen, I know what you’re thinking: Wade’s in his underwear, Logan’s emerging from the bedroom… But we didn’t fuck, it’s not that kind of st–”

“Who are you talking to?” you ask from behind him, glancing over his shoulder into the empty hallway.

“No one–You!” The door closes with a bang.

Confused, you walk further into the apartment. “Well, telling me you didn’t is just going to make me think that you did.” Wade darts past you and takes a seat on the couch, but you hang back and lean against the kitchen table to avoid sitting on leather.

Wade suddenly turns to face you. “Did I ever tell you about our time in The Void?”

“Wade,” Logan warns.

Wade’s eyes are sparkling with mischief and you can’t deny how fun it is to indulge the way he pushes Logan’s buttons. It’s a good distraction from how you’re drenched in sweat. And you’re actually curious.

You play your part, letting out a faux-scandalised gasp. “Did you..?”

“Oh, yeah, baby. Wolverine goes both ways. All the ways, really.” He grins. “We’re so alike.”

“Shut up. Both of you.” Logan groans, lacking any real threat as he adjusts in his seat and wipes some sweat off his brow. “It’s too fucking hot to be annoyed.”

It isn’t lost on you he doesn’t deny a thing.

– – – – –

Apartments look weird with nothing in them.

It’s what crossed your mind after you finished packing up your place three days ago, and it crosses your mind now as you look into the open space of your new one from the doorway. It’s a pleasant, late summer day; perfect weather to move, which was on your schedule for today.

“Incoming!” comes from behind you, followed by quick, heavy steps.

You jump aside as Ellie sails through the door, carefully setting a big box marked “Kitchen” down in its designated area, followed by Logan who is balancing three boxes at once. After a beat, Yukio follows, holding a single table lamp in her hand. It takes some effort not to laugh, not just because of how funny it looks, but also because you relate; after all the exhausting late nights you pulled packing up, that’s also the kind of energy you’re bringing to this.

It’s nice of them to help, and instead of shoving that feeling away in fear, you allow yourself to bask in it. You don’t get long, however, because more help has just arrived.

Wade. With Vanessa. Hands interlocked.

It draws everyone’s eyes to the doorway. Wade looks almost bashful, and it baffles you how someone who can say the most insane things unprompted, all without batting an eye, could blush while holding hands with a girl he likes. To his credit, he shakes it off quickly.

“All right, all right,” he says. “Stop ogling me and my girlfriend and get back to work everyone!”

– – – – –

“So it was like an experiment?” you ask, stirring the pot on your stove before taking a careful bite of food off your wooden spoon.

Tonight’s your first night hosting at your new place – Family Dinner, Wade had dubbed it. With fall setting in, you had an idea of what to make, but it still made you nervous to have everyone in your space. Logan saw right through you, offering to come over early to help you prepare. 

Once he had arrived, it hadn’t taken long for him to admit he wasn’t much of a cook, so he mainly chopped vegetables as you chatted; you about your new place, Logan about his new job as a boxing instructor, Laura going off to college. You don’t remember exactly how the subject of his adamantium came up, but he was telling you freely about it.

“They needed someone who could regenerate fast enough to bond with it,” he explains. “I was in a dark place. Figured I didn’t have anything to lose if it didn’t work.”

You nod in understanding. “Do you… remember much about it?” You put your spoon down, then put the lid back on the pan. 

Logan’s knife stops hitting the cutting board. “Yeah, I… I remember every second of it.”

You look at him then. His eyes are still cast down at his task. Unsure of what to say, you think about what you’d want to hear, and you find it might be best to say nothing at all. Instead, your hand finds his shoulder. Logan’s head turns to you, and you feel like the look you share is more important than anything you could’ve told him. His hand covers yours with an appreciative squeeze. 

“But I’m trying to leave that there so I can focus on remembering what happens to me here.” As soon as he’s said it, his hand quickly slips off yours, adding, in a rush, “Here in this timeline, I mean.” 

You smile at him, but a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. “That sounds like a great idea.”

– – – – –

“I need your help with something,” you say, balancing your phone between your ear and your shoulder while you turn a birthday card over in your hand. Deciding you don’t like it, you throw it back on the pile of cards and continue your grocery shopping.

“Just say the word,” comes Logan’s reply from the other end.

“I need you to steal something out of the apartment for me.” There’s a silence, and you purposely let the feeling of trepidation linger.

“Am gonna need you to say a little more than just that.”

You laugh, “Wade’s been talking about getting a little frame for his polaroid. You know, the polaroid that you held on to for him in The Void, after the two of you fu–”

“Yes, I know the one,” he interjects with a huff. He pauses, sighs, then says, “Consider it done.”

THE PARTY

“There you are!” Wade shouts after he opens the door. He pulls you into a hug that you return with a wide smile. Over his shoulder, you see that the apartment’s crowded, bustling with people who are there for his birthday party.

“I got you something,” you say, offering the small package to him after you step inside and hang up your coat.

“Wouldn’t have let you in if you hadn’t,” he admits as he closes the door behind you with a bang. Wade takes the package from your hand, shaking it next to his ear but hearing it make no sound in response. “Is it a cock ring?”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Unfortunately, they were all sold out.”

“They always are,” he says, making a disappointed face. Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you watch as he tears at the wrapping paper to reveal his gift. He makes another face when he sees it. “Well, now I feel like an asshole. This is really nice.”

“Logan helped me kidnap it,” you explain, pointing at the picture. “And the little red hearts on the frame, well, they’re your color, but they also reminded me of how much you care about people.”

When he looks at you after, it’s with genuine emotion… but Wade is Wade. “Never thought I’d say this, but I’m kind of happy you walked in here barfing up the place.”

A strange mix of embarrassment and gratitude claws its way up your neck. “Thank you.”

“We should take a new one,” he decides suddenly, pointing at the picture. “You both should be in it.” His head turns, watching as Logan approaches the two of you. “But let’s be realistic, his shoulders are so broad he wouldn’t even fit in the frame, much less his bul–”

“Stop talking about my dick, Wade,” Logan snaps.

“I was saying only good things! Jeez, so sensitive…” Wade turns, putting the picture on the kitchen table behind him where it joins all the other gifts.

“Did he like it?” Logan asks, voice low.

“Yeah,” you smile.

“Good,” he replies. “Was a nice idea.”

You eye all the other gifts, some clearer who they are from than others. “What did you get him?”

The corner of Logan’s mouth lifts as he points at a roll of silver duct tape with a small red bow on top, making you fix them both with a confused look.

“It’s an inside joke,” Logan shrugs.

Wade’s eyes sparkle, but in a rare turn of events, he doesn’t elaborate, only adds, “It’s classified. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.” 

“And I have top level clearance, lieutenant,” you reply. You exhale through your nose in an amused laugh when Wade makes a surprised face that indicates you��ve gotten the reference. “What, you thought a Tom Cruise impression could save you?”

“No,” he grins, and as if on cue, the doorbell rings, “but that can. Birthday Boy duty calls, but I want it on record that I could do Top Gun, easily, while Tom would never be able to pull off Deadpool.”

– – – – –

The party settles into something comfortable, soft music in the background of lively chatter. Yukio has just finished telling you about a Professor Layton cosplay she’s doing when you excuse yourself, both your glass and your social battery empty enough to look for a momentary out. Finding your way through the crowd, you make it to the kitchen, filling your glass with water and taking a few sips. 

While you do, the music suddenly gets louder, taking over for the steady chatter. You turn around, leaning back against the kitchen counter, and watch as Wade drags Vanessa to the middle of the apartment. People make room for them, exchanging looks while Wade wraps his arm around her waist, takes her hand in his and begins dancing with her. With a laugh, she slaps him on the chest, before settling into his embrace anyway. Some follow their lead, but your eyes stay glued to them. Wade spins Vanessa under his arm, the smile on her face bright enough to light up the entire room. In return, he looks at her with so much adoration he’s almost glowing himself. It fills you with warmth to see the both of them so happy.

It hits you how you haven’t thought about this in a while. You’d decided long ago that the future wasn’t something you had to worry about, but suddenly you’ve arrived, like you’re in some alternate reality where your future is now, and that it would be nice to share it with someone. The sting behind your eyes catches you a little off guard; mixed feelings of time that has been taken from you, but also of time you’re getting back with the life you now have.

For a while now, you’ve suspected the thing inside you is gone, that there isn’t much to feed off of anymore. If it is, it would make sense that there’s room for something else.

Wade and Vanessa make it look easy, even though you know it’s been far from easy for them. You suppose that’s what it’s like, especially as you get older. It’s less about big gestures, more about small ones; someone to make you laugh, to spin you under their arm, who knows how to apologize, seeks you out during your quiet moments–

“Do you dance?”

You startle, head turning towards the voice next to you– 

“Logan,” you breathe. 

It’s like you’re seeing him for the very first time. He’s standing so close, almost touching you but not quite, heat radiating off of him nonetheless. The plaid shirt he’s wearing isn’t even buttoned and still the fabric is pulled taunt over his shoulders and the thick of his biceps. He’s grinning, his nose pulled up in an adorable scrunch, the corner of his eyes crinkling - you never noticed before, but there’s a hint of green between the hazel.

It hits you so suddenly that you have to grab the counter to keep your balance. Everything that’s been happening, that you’ve been feeling, all the times something happened between the two of you that you couldn’t put your finger on… it falls into place with a well-timed, completely unrelated question and a glance at him.

You like him.

All you can do is blink at him, dazed, unable to speak, even more so when he leans in a little closer, mistaking your silence for misunderstanding. “I mean, not that I– You and Wade were doing a bit earlier, it’s a reference to–” Logan straightens suddenly, his expression slipping into concern as he watches you, “Are you okay?”

You feel warm, so aware of all his attention on you that you’re afraid he might be able to see your pulse blink rapidly below the angle of your jaw. “Yeah,” you reply, voice hoarse, looking away from him to blink the leftover wetness from earlier out of your eyes. 

Anxiety claws its way into your chest, your mind coming to terms with what it’s puzzled together at such a sickening pace that there’s an immediate knot in your stomach. The party has instantly lost its shine, and you look down at the glass in your hand, gulping down its contents. You need to be alone with your thoughts, you need to think about this before–

“I gotta go,” you say in such a rush that it almost sounds like one word while you set your glass on the kitchen counter.

Logan’s eyes follow you as you push past him, grab your coat and reach for the doorknob. “Wait–”

“Bye, Logan.”

THE TABLE

Once at home, you change into something more comfortable, your mind racing while you peel your party clothes off, toss your bra aside, change into an oversized shirt and plop down on the couch after.

Despite having already established that your mind was occupied with other things for a very long time, it’s laughable in hindsight that you never noticed your feelings before. It’s not like you don’t know what Logan’s like; he’s kind, funny, supportive…

…broad, handsome.

Shit.

Why did you have to come to your senses? Things were better before that moment. Logan’s your friend, whom you met in the most unconventional way possible. It’s ridiculous to want more than what you have when what you have is good. Or to think that he would want more.

But he might.

Because you may have been occupied with depression, anxiety, recovery, and everything in between, but you were there; you remember the time you spent with him, the way he looks at you, drinks the coffee you like, laughs at your jokes, seems to know exactly when to call you, seeks you out in a crowd.

But it would change everyth– 

Actually, not a whole lot would change, if you really think about it. You already see him all the time, you’ve seen the very worst of each other, overcome a great deal of hardship together, you make each other better, his friends are your… 

friends. 

You didn’t say goodbye to Wade.

The thought comes suddenly. It was his birthday party and you didn’t even say goodbye to him before you left. You’re a terrible friend. Dread sinks into your limbs, and you reach for your phone to type out a quick, apologetic message. Just as you hit send, there’s a series of loud knocks on the door, and it makes you freeze up where you’re seated.

“Are you in there?” a muffled voice calls out.

It’s Logan, you realize, and a plethora of fake excuses as to why you left the party early present themselves to your mind as you quickly make your way over to the door.

The first thing you notice when you open it is that he’s dripping wet from the rain, clothes soaked through and his hair flat. There’s a deep furrow in his brow, and it’s different from how he usually looks; he looks actually mad.

“Logan, is everything–” you begin, concerned, but he cuts you off by pushing past you and letting himself inside, boots stomping against the wooden floor. 

“Jesus, here you are. Why’d you leave like that, huh? Saying goodbye, your eyes all wet. I went after you and you were fucking gone, it scared the shit out of me. Didn’t see the car at the lookout, but I went to look for you anyway, and you weren’t in the water, thank fuck–”

“Wait, you went–” you pause, the mental image of Logan running out into the rain to the cliffside making your eyes widen. “Did you think..?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, shoulders slumping.

“Shit.” Your heart is racing when you step closer to him. “No, I wasn’t… I don’t want that anymore.”

“Then what the fuck was that all about?”

The desperation and misunderstanding in his eyes is unmistakable, and you hate that you made him feel like that. “I was just… I needed a moment, after seeing Wade and Vanessa like that,” you say, trying to provide yourself with more time to think, unsure if you already want to broach the subject of why you really left.

“You… like Wade?” Logan asks, his frown deepening.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the unexpected question. “No. I mean, I adore Wade, but not like that. He’s with Vanessa.”

The answer does nothing to change his expression. “And you want it to be different?”

His line of questioning confuses you. “I– No. Logan, this isn’t about Wade or Vanessa, but it’s about… what they have. Something that’s real, but imperfect, and that’s what actually makes it perfect, and I just… I was in a really bad place for such a long time, I didn’t give myself time to even think about… I haven’t felt myself wanting for so long,” your gaze flicks up to his. “Seeing them just made me realize there’s so much left that I still want.” 

Internally, you curse the way he always makes you say too much, because you can see the understanding wash over his features. His expression softens, the balled fists by his side loosen, and his eyes search you, as if to see if that thing you want is him. There’s no doubt he finds his answer; you’re ever the open book when it comes to him, and your pulse quickens while he silently observes you. 

Logan reaches for you so quickly that you can barely prepare for it, a hand on your waist to pull you in, another on your cheek to tip your face up and guide your mouth to his. A shaky breath sails out through your nose when your lips meet, your eyes fluttering shut and your palms sliding up his damp but warm chest to curl in the soaked fabric of his shirt. It’s eager, and the angle is off, but it’s quickly adjusted with a brief parting and a near in-sync tilt of your heads in the other direction. 

Logan pulls away, but stays close, and you almost feel his words before hearing them, “Been… thinking about doing that.”

“Really?” you say, breathless and amused. “When did you, um, start wanting to do that?”

“Few weeks ago–Fuck, no, more than that. Almost did, that day after your first meeting, after you told me you were proud of me,” he admits. “But I wanted to give you time, space. Wasn’t sure if you felt–”

“I do. Didn’t realize it before, but I fucking do,” you assure him, another tug on his collar trying to pull him back to you. His admissions, knowing he wants you too, only make you want him more, like you have to make up for all the time you wasted not doing this sooner.

Logan’s hand on your waist holds you off. “I just don’t know how to… how to be this,” he confesses softly.

“That’s okay,” you say, your nose brushing against his. “I don’t either.”

He inches forward like he intends to kiss you again, but seems to reconsider, swallowing hard before saying, “Wouldn’t be the first time we figure it out together, huh?”

The words make you surge forward to close the gap between you, your brows creasing, attempting to convey everything you feel with one press of your lips to his. Logan’s hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you to him in a way that seems to mirror your efforts. Something lights up inside you, something you lost long ago, and it makes you bold, opening your mouth under his to get a taste of him. 

His grip on you tightens with a groan, spurring him into action and walking you backwards into the dark kitchen, the only illumination the slivers of moonlight that come through the kitchen window. You jolt when the back of your thighs hit the table, before you’re scrambling to get on top of it, two hands at your waist helping to hoist you up. Your thighs widen to make room for Logan’s while you push the green flannel shirt off his shoulders, struggling to peel it off his arms to the point you have to break away with a laugh to really get it right. It lands on the floor with a wet sound, before he reaches for the back of his shirt, curling his fingers around the collar and pulling it over his head.

Logan’s sturdy, warm to the touch and surprisingly pliant when you can’t help but let your fingers flit along the corded muscles and protruding veins while he toes off his shoes. His hand flies to the back of your head to fist the hair at the nape of your neck when your lips explore, find his jaw, and travel down his neck. A soft sound sails from his mouth, a barely audible moan that carries over into something deeper when your lips brush a spot just above his clavicle. Using the grip he has on you, he drags you back up to his mouth, doing some more of his own exploring when his warm tongue strokes against your own. 

“You’re so good to me,” he murmurs with a buck of his hips against yours. The thrill of having him pushed up against you, half-hard, warm, full of promise, makes you moan, teeth clacking against his when you do. “Always so fucking good to me.”

It makes you want to protest, from the very moment you met, he’s the one always being that to you, but it dies on your tongue when Logan’s flicks over the tips of his fingers. His impatient hand finds its way between you, disappearing under the waistband of your underwear and stretching the material to make room. His name comes out as a whimper when his spit-slick fingers easily glide through the soft skin between your legs. He curses, another buck of his hips pressing his hand closer against you, and your kiss turns messy and uncoordinated when he dips one finger to touch your clit. 

“This okay?” Logan asks when you gasp, drawing languid circles between your legs.

“Yeah, it’s just– Oh, god.” Two thick fingers find your entrance, swirling the wetness there around. “Been a while,” you manage to finish your sentence.

“I’ll make it good for you,” he promises. “You want that?”

All you can do is nod, and Logan presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulls his hand back. It’s paired with a wet sound that makes your cheeks heat, more so when you watch him get on his knees and yank you to the edge of the table, the quick turn of events and the casual display of his strength making you a little dizzy. Logan’s nose presses into the fabric between your legs with a sharp inhale, before quick, practiced moves work your underwear down your legs. One eager hand places a thigh on his shoulder as another holds you at the bend of your knee. You lie back, arching as you hurriedly pull your t-shirt over your head, leaning up on your elbows just in time to watch him bend down. 

The feeling of Logan’s hot breath sailing out over your sensitive skin alone is enough to make you gasp. He drags his lips and nose across your folds, easing you into it as much as his lack of patience will allow before tasting you with a swipe of his tongue. It isn’t tentative or testing, but firm and sure, and clearly for his enjoyment as much as yours when he repeats his action and groans into you. The vibrations of it and the gentle scratch of his facial hair only add to the liquid feeling in the pit of your stomach. Letting go of your knee, he curls a strong arm around your thigh, spreading you open then pulling you flush against him while he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Oh, that feels really good,” you spur him on, your heel digging in between his shoulder blades. You watch him with hooded eyes, shifting your weight to one elbow so you can cup your breast with a whine. 

Logan’s eyes slip shut in focus, working his tongue up and down your clit and making you arch into his mouth. Reaching for you blindly, he slides a hand over yours on your chest, fingers fitting between your own and squeezing while his tongue slides lower to lick over where you’re dripping for him. He lets out an appreciative hum as he repeats the move until your thighs clench and shake around his ears. His tongue dips inside you, curling up against the slick walls of your cunt, and his name tumbles from your mouth, soft, pleading, making his eyes shoot open to meet yours.

The sight of him looking up at you like that from between your thighs, with dark eyes, the tip of his nose glistening with your wetness, will probably haunt you for the rest of your life. 

Logan shushes your begging, pulling away and watching as your pussy clenches at the sudden lack of attention. “Let me give you something to come on,” he murmurs, before fitting a finger at your entrance. It meets absolutely no resistance, a second finger sliding inside with just as much ease, and he sets a steady, deep rhythm before his mouth returns to your clit.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck–” Your head rolls back between your shoulder blades, mouth open on a silent gasp, but he draws your attention back to him with a curl of his fingers, finding a spot that makes you go rigid for a second. It all builds so fast, so suddenly. The hand on your chest shakes Logan’s off, finding the crown of his head and sliding your fingers into his hair. He’s too strong to really make purchase, but you try anyway, using your grip to roll your hips against him. The sound of his groans, every flick of his tongue and every squelching, delicious curl of his fingers all send you closer and closer, until his hand presses down on your belly, and…

“Logan,” you manage, voice sharp with a warning that comes too late when he makes you tumble over the edge. 

It’s so much after so long, the force of it making you fall back against the table, something between a gasp and a shout tearing from your throat. He holds you tighter, to keep you in place and guide the desperate roll of your hips against his face. Your orgasm quickly slips into something bordering on oversensitivity, and you let out a dry sob that makes you slap a hand over your mouth when Logan’s tongue travels a path from where his stilled fingers disappear inside you, up to your clit. He stays there, gentle, uncharacteristically patient as you slowly come to a twitching halt. 

He’s a blur when he comes back into your field of view after standing up, towering over you to watch as you come back down to earth. Becoming sharper with every heavy blink of your eyes, you notice the smile on his face is smug, that the hair surrounding it is a shade darker than the rest. You sigh softly when his fingers slip from you, the feeling of them sliding wetly over your clit making you tremble, but his touch doesn’t leave you completely when he moves to stroke the outside of your thigh.

“How’s that?” Logan dares to ask.

“Hmm, no speaking yet,” you protest.

Reaching for him, you slide both of your arms up over his broad shoulders, wrists crossed in the nape of his neck to pull him in for another kiss. It’s slow, and deep, the taste of yourself shared between the two of you as your tongue slides over his. The table protests with a creak when his hands land beside your head, more when his chest pushes down on yours and you wrap a leg around his waist to get him even closer. The hair scattered across his broad chest teases your nipples and the hard ridge of his cock strains against his jeans and presses up against your slick cunt. It makes your jaw go slack, stoking your desire and making you burn with the need to make him feel as good as he just made you feel. 

With a push against his shoulders, you take him along as you sit upright again, accompanied by another creak of the table. Mouth still on his, you slide a hand down to cup him over his jeans, the weight of him against your wide open palm making you pulse. Logan grunts when your hand squeezes, and your mouth slides off his, kissing his jaw, sliding back down his neck. He cups your head, keeping you in place while watching your hand.

“Feels nice,” he husks, voice so deep it makes you want to push him aside and get on your knees for him, but then he asks, “Are you gonna let me fuck you?”

“God, yeah,” you say with a nod, watching as the mark you just sucked into his neck disappears far too soon while you continue rubbing him over the denim. “Want you inside of me.”

“Jesus–Then get it out,” he instructs, guiding your hand to his belt. 

If you weren’t so turned on you might wince at how eager you are, at how quickly you tug the buckle open and pull the leather free. Logan groans when it relieves some of the pressure, letting his forehead rest against yours. Together, you watch your hands make quick work of his zipper, your fist closing around his cock while your other hand works his pants down until he can kick it off and under the table.

He fits nicely in your palm, heavy and ready, sticky at the tip. With a purse of your lips, you let your spit trickle down in a straight line, and he hisses when it hits him. Your free hand flattens against his stomach, sliding down along the hard planes of his body and following the vein just below his belly button down, until it meets your other hand that loosely strokes up to the root of his cock. Logan arches into you when you stroke back up with a tighter grip, all but getting on his toes to chase your touch. Using both of your hands to get all of him, you twist your fists in opposite directions once, twice, before circling his tip with one thumb. Your other hand curls around the underside of him, dragging some of your spit down to his balls with the tips of your fingers.

“F–fuck,” Logan stutters when you play with him there, cupping him in your hand as well as you can and squeezing his shaft when it twitches in response. His eyes slip shut as his palms land on the outside of your thighs with a smack, fingertips digging into your soft skin. 

It makes you jolt, then grin, giddy from the sharp sting and the power you have over his pleasure. “How’s that?” you echo with a teasing lilt.

He does have the words to answer, albeit a little slurred, “‘S good, sweetheart.”

The nickname tacked on at the end takes root in your chest, blooms bright and makes you ache. You translate your appreciation into tightening your strokes and spreading more of the precome that steadily leaks from his tip around.

“C’mere,” Logan says softly, taking over for you with one hand, giving himself a few strokes before pushing your thighs further apart and shuffling closer to line himself up with you.

You’re so wet that the head of his cock is practically already slipping inside of you, but your hand clasps around his bicep when he really starts to breach you. After giving you a shallow little thrust, his hips draw back, before pushing a little further, gauging your reaction.

“Just like that,” you sigh, watching the careful slide of him in and out of you. “Keep going just like that.”

He gets you opened up like that, giving you a little more with each wind of his hips. Logan’s hand finds the back of your neck, his palm splaying out and keeping you close enough that you’re practically sharing air with each sigh and moan. Eventually, your knees have to draw up to his flanks in order for him to keep going and you wind a leg around his hip to close the final distance with a press of your heel into one of the firm cheeks of his ass. A long breath sails out from between your lips when you pulse around him, slowly adjusting to having all of him filling you up. You can tell he has to put considerable effort into letting you, wood groaning below you when he clutches onto the table.

“Fuck, it’s a lot,” you say, and when he grins against your mouth you can’t help but kiss him again – just a peck. The hand at the back of your neck squeezes in reassurance as he continues to let you lead, and it’s a small gesture, but it makes you feel warm all over. You melt into it his touch, your body relaxing as the pleasure of the stretch of him takes over.  

“Can stay like this a little longer if you want,” he says, but the strain in his voice says something different.

“Hmm, no, you can move.” You’ve barely said it, or his hips are drawing back, and it would have made you laugh if it didn’t feel so fucking incredible. He almost slips from you completely, before sliding all the way back inside with a grunt. The table scrapes along the floor, and vaguely you register one of your chairs falling over in the process. When he repeats the action, the furniture squeaks again below you. “Just don’t break my table.”

The sound he makes in response is non-commital, and when he fucks back into you and nudges against something wonderful, you can’t say you disagree. Grabbing hold of his shoulder and using the leg you have wrapped around him, you roll your hips against his, and he begins to meet you halfway until you work up a rhythm together. The table protest further, a shrill sound filling the room after each slap of skin–

With a frustrated groan and accompanied by a startled squeal from yourself, Logan lifts you. The surprised laugh that threatens to bubble up your throat quickly morphs into something heavier that comes out with a rasp when he makes it all look unusually effortless. Attempting to brace yourself, you sling one arm over his shoulders, the other winding around his neck so you can rake your fingers through the hair at the back of his head. It’s a struggle to keep your balance, a helpless heel digging into the back of his thigh to keep yourself upright. Quick to aid, Logan slides an arm under you, fingers splayed across your ass as your knee hangs off the inside of his elbow. He turns a quarter, presses you up against the wall, and doesn’t miss a beat as he continues fucking you. 

“Jesus, Logan,” you say, voice almost a growl and barely recognizable as your own.

With your new position, you can see him better, the both of you lit from the side with the window to your left. The moonlight paints him in a tapestry of light and shadows when the wind blows through the tree branches, momentarily amplifying the glint in his eyes and the flex of his chest and arms like a strobe light.

The different angle he finds with his cock is a little too good, the feeling of the thick base of him stretching you open with each thrust making you dazed and talkative, “It’s so deep like this, can–oh, my god–can feel you everywhere.” 

Logan curses at your words, squeezing your waist and pushing you harder against the wall. There’s a deep-voiced appreciation of how good you feel in there too that doesn’t quite make it from your ears to your brain because somehow he’s still speeding up. His head ducks down to your chest, mouthing at the soft skin of your breast before closing his lips around a nipple. 

You whine, using the grip you have on him to roll your hips against the piston of his while you pant into his crown. Though the sound he makes against you when you do it makes you beam with pride, it’s not something you can keep up for very long, your hold on him slacking after a few thrust until you slip back against the wall. 

Logan pulls back when you do, tightening his hold on you while his eyes glide from the bounce of your tits that glisten with his spit to down between your bodies. 

“Touch yourself,” he instructs, grunting when you immediately do as he says by bringing a hand down between where you’re joined. Your fingers spread in a V-shape around where he fucks into you, collecting some of your mixed arousal before using it to rub your clit. “That’s it, sweetheart, fuck, make yourself come.”

You nod, rapidly feeling everything zeroing in on the fingers that draw tight circles over your clit and that spot deep inside you that Logan’s finding with every thrust. “Yeah, fuck, I’m–Don’t stop, don’t stop, please–”

He’s coming before you are, tucking his head below your chin to let out a deep, drawn out moan against your neck that ends with his teeth grazing your skin. It’s so much, the pressure of him grinding himself into you with twitching, barely there thrusts, the heat of his release as it fills you where you’re gripping him like a vice, and as your fingers still twirl between your legs you come, and come, and come. 

The leg you have wrapped around his hip slips off, but before your toes can even scrape the floor, he catches your thigh, cupping your ass with both hands now to keep you up, and close. With a soft, satisfied sound, you let your forehead fall against Logan’s shoulder, tasting the salt of his sweat with every light press of your lips there.

It takes you a moment to notice your back has come off the wall, that Logan is walking the both of you into your living room and to the couch. He bends his knees, dropping you between your pillows, where you land with as much grace as you can muster considering you feel like you’re made of lead. The soft couch is pleasant against your body, your sore limbs sinking into the cushions. 

Logan fits himself between your legs again, widening them around his broad shoulders before his lips find your overstretched thighs, leaving marks and kisses up up up, until his tongue slips back into your pussy. Your back arches off the couch, hands shooting down to fist his hair with a whine while Logan’s hand fists his cock. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell he’s already getting hard again, and his tongue is making something swirl low in your belly that’s making you pant, and...

It’ll be a long night.

THE PEARL

It had taken a lot of convincing and downright groveling, but Wade had allowed you to bring a movie for movie night. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust your taste in movies, his main gripe with your choice was that it wasn’t a Christmas movie – mandatory for December. Wade’s right, but after you explained that it’s the movie you always watch at the end of the year (and after Logan and yourself conceded that yes, his birthday was technically also your anniversary) he’d agreed. 

Now that you’re actually watching it, you suspect he’s genuinely invested, because after a handful of comments about The Hulk, he’s been quiet for longer than you’ve ever heard him be quiet.

In the scene on the screen, Mark Ruffalo’s character Dan and Keira Knightley’s character Gretta are taking an evening walk around New York City, dancing, singing and sharing music with each other as they do. Eventually, they stop and sit next to each other on some steps, watching as the city continues to move without them.

“...the most banal scenes are suddenly invested with so much meaning, ya know? All these banalities, they're suddenly turned into these… these beautiful, effervescent pearls,” Dan says, wistfully looking on as New York bustles around him. “I gotta say, as I've gotten older these pearls are just… becoming increasingly more and more rare to me.”

The arm Logan has slung around your shoulder tightens, and the couch creaks softly as you lean further into his side, your cheek squishing against his warm chest.

“More string than pearls?” Gretta inquires with a frown.

“Yeah. You got to travel over a lot more string to get to the pearls.” There’s a pause as he turns to look at her, “This moment is a pearl, Gretta.”

She gives him a hint of a smile. “It sort of is, isn't it?”

“All this has been a pearl,” he admits, sharing a look with her.

A finger curls under your chin, tipping your head up until your eyes meet Logan’s. He gives you the same look you just saw on the screen, his eyes soft as they take you in, the hint of green between the hazel illuminated by the light of the television. A thumb swipes over your bottom lip fondly, before he leans down to kiss you.

It takes a lot of string indeed.

Sometimes even interdimensional string.

– – – – –

(THE END)

If you made it all the way here, thanks for reading. Seriously. Please come say hi and/or share your thoughts via ask/messages/reblogs/whatever you feel comfortable with. I hope to share more writing soon - emphasis on hope, I'm not making promises, just an educated wish.

And lastly, if you're struggling with mental health problems, please don't wait for a handsome stranger to sweep you off your feet. I know from experience that it can be incredibly difficult to reach that hand out, but I also know from experience that things can get better. There are ways to get help and you deserve to get help 🫂

[danisbrainrot]

shauna shipman x reader a/n: minor season three spoilers, angst and unhinged shauna ahead. NSFW (it's smut because shauna this season is making me feel things). afab reader.

you watched shauna storm off, refusing to participate in whatever crazy shit the group was making you do now. you felt bad because nat had been trying to boost morale, and van had worked hard on coming up with unique to entertain the group, but you understood why she wouldn't stay around. ever since losing the baby, everyone treated her differently—like she was a tightly wound coil about to snap.

they weren't wrong; you had seen her in a rage scribbling so fast in her diary, almost setting it fire. you often watched the way she tormented mari, and shauna could be cruel. however, there was something so tragic about her that called out to you.

losing her best friend, her baby, and then javi in quick succession would cause even the sanest of people to snap, but shauna's rage simmered quietly until she unleashed it on others. everyone feared her, but you. . . you were drawn to her.

excusing yourself, you left the circle and followed shauna. everyone else, too distracted to notice, didn't see you leave.

you found shauna kneeling at her baby's grave, whispering something unintelligible. you crept closer to eavesdrop, only to snap on a branch. her head snaps up, and she locks eyes with you. it's quiet for a moment as she eyes you up and down—a shiver ran up your spine. out of delight or fear, you didn't know. perhaps both.

quicker than the blink of an eye, shauna pressed a knife to your neck. "what are you doing here?" she hissed, holding you against a tree.

you struggled to form a response, shamelessly excited by the sharp blade digging into your neck. "i was just checking up on you, shauna," you promise.

"are you here for my baby? i won't let you anywhere near him," she snapped, her face inches from yours—you could feel her hot breath on your face.

"no, i'm not here for him. i'm here for you, shauna. i noticed you left the circle—"

"i don't want to listen to a bunch of dumbasses talk about how my best friend and baby needed to die," she spat, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. if this was anyone else, they'd be terrified—but you felt something different. pity. shauna resembled a scared animal backed into a corner.

so, going against your common sense, you leant forward—showing you weren't scared of her—and smashed your lips against hers. you pull back instantly, trying to gauge her reaction.

she was frozen in place, staring at you with wide eyes—gorgeous brown eyes that had hardened after the crash. the same eyes that you'd become smitten with ever since you tried out for the soccer squad.

a panic shot through you as you realised how dumb your mistake was. she just stared at you, her anger-filled eyes fading and revealing the truth—vulnerability.

shauna's lips were on yours again. they were hungry and demanding. her hands gripped your cheeks tightly as she devoured your mouth, pressing her body up against yours to keep you in place. you rest your hands on her waist, trying to ground her.

the bark was rough against your back, the thin material of your shirt doing nothing to stop it from scratching you. you tried to readjust into a more comfortable position, but shauna wasn't letting you move. instead, she pulled away and almost ripped your shirt off. you gasped softly, receiving an eyebrow raise from shauna—almost like she was asking you if you had a problem with how rough she was.

"strip," she barked. you immediately followed her commands, pulling your shorts to your ankles and stepping out of them, placing them next to your discarded shirt. shauna pulled her butterfly shirt over her head, tossing it somewhere on the floor and unbuckled her belt. "naked."

hesitantly, you reached behind and unhooked your bra. "have you done this before?" you question, pulling the straps down and finally exposing your boobs.

shauna stared hungrily at your chest, her eyes unmoving as she shook her head. "i've had sex, just not with a woman," she replied. her eyes finally met yours, "shouldn't be that hard to learn."

you were about to scoff when she recaptured your lips. it was a messy kiss, full of teeth and tongue as shauna unleashed her pent up anger on you. she squeezed your boobs, groping them like a horny teenage boy.

her knee pressed against your heat, revealing your dripping heat. she pulled away, yanking your panties down to your ankles before running a single finger through your slick. holding her finger to your face, she smirked at you, "i held a knife to your throat."

"it was hot," you shrugged. shauna growled, taking your lips into hers again. this kiss wasn't any nicer—but you wouldn't have it any other way. you wanted her passion. her anger. her hunger. shauna bit down on your bottom lip, causing you to moan and allowing her to shove her tongue down your throat.

her knee was pressed against your core but didn't move, while her hands rested on your boobs. you were seconds away from whining and begging her to do something when she pinched your left nipple. you gasp violently, and something dark stirs in her eyes. shauna's lips move to your throat, biting down on the pulse points before licking them better. all the while, her hands twisted and pinched your nipples deliciously.

"this is how i've always liked it," she mumbled against your neck, "rough," she made her way to your clavicle, shoving you higher up the tree with her knee and leaving marks on your collarbone. "jeff never wanted to hurt me. never wanted to leave evidence for jackie to find," she sneered. "but when i'm done with you, everyone will know what happened."

one hand remains, rough handling one of your nipples, while the other trails down your sternum. the lower her finger went, the more chills rushed up your spine. shauna placed a few more marks on your clavicle, then your chest before she pulled away to watch her finger tease you. she went agonisingly slow; her finger circled your belly button before it followed your snail trail down to your bush.

you gripped onto her shoulders to ground you. she made eye contact with you, delighting in how much pleasure you were getting from this, and she hadn't even touched your most sensitive area yet.

when she finally touched your clit, she remembered how she touched her own and swirled it delicately to begin with. you were incredibly wet, so she felt comfortable picking up her pace. your breathing quickened, a soft moan slipped from your lips, but that wasn't enough for her. she wanted to see you squirm. she wanted to hear you scream for her.

she traced your slit with her finger, as you mourned the loss of contact with your clit. without warning, she slipped her middle finger into your pussy—eliciting a gasp from you. "shauna," you whispered, feeling her pump it deliciously. your wetness made it to easy, so she added another one almost immediately. "curl them," you begged, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, pausing her ministrations as she worked out how to curl them. "you. . . you still move," you bit your lip, watching her glare at you.

"i know. i'm working it out, shut up," she hissed. her pace quickened, as she took your advice. you moans were no longer soft, gaining volume the faster she went. shauna picked up a rhythm, rocking you against the tree—but you were too blissed out to feel the pain of the bark scratching your back.

her thumb circled your clit, while she continued to pump two fingers in your pussy. she struggled at first, trying to grope your boob, finger your and play with your clit—it appeared to be too much for her inexperienced self—but eventually got the hang of it. you were in bliss, getting perfectly fucked by shauna, you felt bad for not returning the favour.

a burning sensation in your stomach began to soar, as shauna brought you closer to the edge. you could feel your orgasm was swiftly approaching. "shauna, holy shit. i'm so close, i'm almost there," you moaned. her pace quickened again, as shauna began violently fingering you. any pain was replaced by pleasure as you screamed her name. shauna suddenly realised how close everyone else was and didn't want this to end, and pressed her lips against yours to shut you up.

it wasn't until shauna put her mouth back on yours that you felt your orgasm come over you in waves. you moaned in to her mouth, as she fingered you through your orgasm. you panted as she finally pulled away, pressing her forehead against yours. "my turn," she growled.

you dropped to your knees, hooking your finger around her panties and ensuring you maintained eye contact with shauna as you pulled them down.

unable to wait any longer, eager to please her, you pressed your nose against her bush and inhaled her sex. tentatively, you kitten licked her clit—her hand roughly grabbed the back of your head and shoved your face into her pussy. needing no more instruction, you laved at her clit. she grunted softly, as your licks treasured her sensitive nub. you weren't satisfied with the noise she was making, however, and decided to draw moans out of her another way.

clutching her love handles, your nose nudged at her clit as you licked strips of her slit. your tongue dipped, causing a loud moan to erupt from her. shauna covered her mouth with her elbow, looking down at you fiercely. the grip on the back of your head tightened as she rocked her hips against you.

you ate her out like a starving woman, and she was your last meal. if this was winter, she might have been. but thankfully it was springtime.

shauna was close, you could tell. her hips rocked erratically as you began frantically eating her out. your nose rubbing against her clit was the final straw. shauna let out the loudest moan you'd heard as she came.

you lapped up her juices, eating her out through her orgasm before cleaning her up. when you finally pulled away, you looked up at her through your eyelashes and smirked at her face. shauna stared down at you and smiled—the first genuine smile you'd seen from her in a long time. it was a ghost of a smile, but it was still there.

"i think you should hold a knife to my throat more often," you joked.

"you should move in to my tent. . . in case i ever need to blow off some steam," she mumbled.

"okay, but i'm a big spoon—"

"i'm not spooning you," she snapped.

you raised your hand in surrender, "whatever you say, shauna." you smirked, knowing she'd crack, eventually.

[thursdaythoughtsfromtheabyss]

The people Want their SMUT! (And they want Robbie to narrate it!)

[tyunderella]

a warm embrace~

୨ৎ summary : you go for a cute trip to jeju with your boyfriend, and the stay in the hotel is definitely better!

୨ৎ word count: around 3,1k

୨ৎ warnings: smut and some fluff, f!reader, dom!taehyun, sub!reader, whiny and lowkey loud reader, needy sex because they love eachother so much, some praise, slight degradation, petnames and name calling.. (pretty, princess, cockslut), unprotected sex, creampie, i think that's all!

୨ৎ a/n: ummm it's my first fic… i feel like the smut part sucks and it definitely misses something >.< i also think that i repeated lots of words.. i'm half awake.. i promise to do better the next time! feedback is very appreciated! more under cut :)

the soft hum of the car’s engine dies as taehyun pulls into the small gravel parking lot overlooking the beach. his sunglasses slide down slightly on the bridge of his nose as he turns to you with a grin.

“we’re here!" he says, voice brimming with excitement. his eyes sparkle happily as they reach your face. “your first jeju trip with me—isn’t this special?”

you glance out the window, taking in the sight of the crystal-clear ocean stretched out before you, its waves sparkling under the midday sun. the salty sea breeze filters into the car, carrying the promise of a carefree day. smiling, you turn back to him.

“it’s already special because i’m with you.” you say, voice full of teasing but earnest. you look him up and down, eyes full of appreciation.

taehyun chuckles, his dimple deepening. “you’re getting good at sweet-talking me, huh? come on, let’s have some fun.”

you both step out of the car, and the warm sun immediately kisses your skin. taehyun grabs the small picnic bag from the trunk and slings it over his shoulder, his white button-up catching the sunlight. his casual outfit—a loose shirt and black shorts—suits him so perfectly it feels like a fashion designer tailored the look just for him.

he glances back, holding out a hand. he wiggles his fingers in your direction, raising a eyebrow. “ready?”

“ready.” you say, slipping your hand into his as you sigh contently. the feeling of being close to him makes you even more relaxed.

his touch is warm and familiar, and as you walk down the sandy path together, you can’t help but feel like this moment is pulled straight from a dream. the sound of the waves grows louder as the beach comes into view, the golden sand stretching endlessly ahead.

you pause at the edge of the shore, where the sand meets the water, and look up at taehyun. "it's beautiful.." you murmur, your voice almost lost in the gentle roar of the ocean.

taehyun, however, isn’t looking at the water. Instead, his gaze is fixed on you. "it is.” he replies, the words carrying a weight that makes your heart skip a beat.

when you notice his lingering stare, you playfully nudge his shoulder. "are you going to keep staring, or are we going to explore?" you grin a bit, trying not to giggle.

he laughs, the sound light and full of affection as he eyes you up and down, appreciating the way you look in your tank top. "alright, alright. let’s explore."

the two of you wander down the shore, your footprints leaving temporary marks in the soft sand. you stop every now and then to pick up interesting shells, taehyun occasionally tossing one back into the waves when he decides it’s not ‘worthy’ of the collection.

“look at this one!” you say, holding up a shell with intricate pink swirls. your eyes sparkle with excitement, voice soft and quiet. “this has to be the prettiest one yet..”

taehyun leans in to inspect it, his face so close to yours that you can feel his breath against your cheek. “not bad.” he says, grinning. “but i’ve got something prettier.”

you raise an eyebrow, a bit curious to see what he has on his mind. “oh? show me.” you put the shell down, putting your hands on your hips.

instead of picking up another shell, he points at you with a smile, poking your sides, enjoying the adorable giggle you let out. “found it.”

you squirm and try to step away, jokingly rolling your eyes, though your cheeks warm up at his words. “cheesy.”

“honest.” he counters, and the sincerity in his tone makes your heart flutter. he leans in closer, giving you a small peck and ruffling your hair.

the hours slip by as the two of you lose yourselves in the beauty of the beach. you chase each other across the sand, your laughter mingling with the sound of the waves. at one point, taehyun dares you to go into the water despite the chill.

“come on.” he says, already ankle-deep in the waves. he grins and beckons you with his finger to come closer. “it’s not that cold..!”

you cross your arms, skeptical. you're a bit cold now, even in your sweater, how come the water isn't cold? “says the guy who always complains about freezing practice rooms but walks into cold water..”

he smirks, stepping closer. he splashes some water on his face, running a hand through his now-wet hair. “what’s life without a little adventure?”

before you can protest and enjoy the view, he splashes you lightly, the cold droplets making you squeal.

“oh no, you don’t do that to me without any consequence!” you shout, running after him as he quickly tries to run away into deeper water.

the chase turns into a splash war, both of you soaked and breathless by the end of it. when you finally retreat to the shore, taehyun spreads out a blanket from the picnic bag and motions for you to sit.

“truce?” he asks, holding up his hands in mock surrender, enjoying the way your body looks in the soaked clothes as he looks at you again.

“truce.” you agree, laughing as you sit beside him. you rest your head against his shoulder , playing with his hair.

the two of you share snacks from the bag, the sun dipping lower on the horizon as the day stretches into the evening. taehyun feeds you a piece of a tangerine, his eyes crinkling with delight when you nod in approval.

“it’s really sweet!” you say, savoring the flavor of the fresh fruit on your tongue.

“but it's not as tasty as you.” he replies, leaning closer. His tone is light, but there’s a glint of mischief in his eyes that makes your breath hitch and thighs close.

as the sun sets, the sky turns into a masterpiece of colors—fiery oranges blending into soft pinks and purples. taehyun takes out his phone to capture the moment, but instead of focusing on the sunset, he turns the camera toward you.

“hey!” you protest, trying to cover your face. you giggle softly, trying to leave the frame.

“too late!” he says, laughing as he snaps the picture. he looks at the finished product and licks his lips. “you look perfect.”

you pout, though you can’t hide your smile. you try to glance at the picture, cheeks slightly flushed. “you’re impossible..”

“and you’re beautiful.” he says, his voice than softer usual. his words are sincere, just like always, but the scenery makes it way more romantic.

the sincerity in his words makes your chest tighten. you look at him, his face illuminated by the fading sunlight, and wonder how someone could make you feel so special.

when you return to the hotel later that night, the warmth of the day lingers in your heart. taehyun sets the picnic bag aside and stretches, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of toned skin. you try not to stare, but he catches your gaze and smirks.

“like what you see?” he teases, lifting his shirt up so you can see more, flexing his muscles confidently.

“maybe.” you reply, trying to play it cool. you gulp and look down to his abs, feeling your panties slowly dampen.

he laughs, pulling you into a loose hug, patting your butt slowly. “i like what i see too.”

you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. it’s a simple moment, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“let’s just lay down and get comfortable, hmm?” he says after a while.

you nod, and soon the two of you are lounging on the hotel bed. the tv plays a random movie in the background, but neither of you is paying much attention to it.

the dim glow of the bedside lamps casts a soft warmth over the room. his arms encircle you, your head resting on his chest, and the steady rise and fall of his breathing is both comforting and intoxicating. his hand moves absentmindedly, tracing gentle circles on your back, and the sensation sends a subtle shiver through your body.

“are you cold?” he asks, his voice soft and deep, laced with concern. he knows that it might be his touch that made you react like that, but still wants to hear your words.

you shake your head, looking up at him with a small smile, trying to not giggle. “not at all.”

his gaze meets yours, and something in his expression shifts. the playfulness that usually lights his eyes is replaced by something deeper, more intense. his fingers still on your back, and you can feel the weight of the moment settling between you, like a secret only the two of you share.

“good..” he says quietly, his hand sliding up to cup your breast. “because i never want you to feel anything less than perfect when you’re with me.”

the sincerity in his voice makes your breath catch. or maybe it's his touch? you're not sure now.. he leans in slowly, your foreheads touching. when your lips finally meet, it’s like everything else fades away.

the kiss starts soft, his lips moving gently against yours, but it doesn’t take long for the intensity to build. his hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, and he responds by rolling slightly onto his side, his body pressing against yours.

you feel the warmth of his palm as it slides down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. his touch is both firm and gentle, as though he’s savoring every second, every inch of you.

when you pull back for air, his forehead rests against yours again, and his breath comes in soft, uneven puffs.

“you’re going to be the death of me..” he murmurs, his voice rough with affection and desire.

you laugh softly, your fingers brushing against his jawline. “i could say the same about you..”

he grins, his dimple appearing for a brief moment before his expression turns serious again. “come here.” he says, pulling you fully into his arms.

you shift so that you’re straddling him, your legs on either side of his hips. his hands settle on your waist, steadying you, and the heat of his touch seeps through the thin fabric of your sweater. his gaze roams your face, as though he’s memorizing every detail.

“you’re so beautiful..” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. he grazes his lips against your jawline.

you feel a blush rise to your cheeks, but before you can respond, he pulls you down into another kiss. this one is hungrier, more desperate, as though he’s pouring all of his unspoken feelings into it.

his hands slide up your back, slipping beneath the hem of your sweater to rest against your bare and warm skin. the sensation sends a jolt through you, and he pauses for a moment, searching your eyes for permission. when you nod, his touch becomes bolder, his fingers exploring the curve of your spine.

“mmm, taehyun..” you whisper, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer, lightly grinding against him.

he groans softly, the sound low and throaty, and it sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. his lips trail from your mouth to your jaw again, then down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. each kiss feels like a promise, and the warmth of his breath against your skin makes your heart race.

he shifts beneath you, sitting up slightly so that your bodies are pressed even closer together. one of his hands cups the back of your head, guiding you into another searing kiss, while the other rests on your thigh, his thumb brushing slow circles against your skin.

“you have no idea what you do to me..” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with emotion.

the vulnerability and want in his tone makes your chest tighten, and you pull back just enough to look into his eyes. they’re dark and filled with a raw intensity that takes your breath away.

“i think i do.” you say softly, your hands framing his face as you feel his boner press against you. you press down on him, your wet panties brushing against the rough material of his shorts.

his lips curve into a small, almost shy smile, and for a moment, the tension eases. but then his gaze drops to your lips again, and the fire reignites.

the two of you lose yourselves in each other, the rest of the world fading away. his kisses grow deeper, his hands more daring, and every touch feels like a declaration of how much he wants you, how much he cares.

he slowly lifts up your skirt, one of his hands reaching down to rub your clit as you moan against his lips, unintentionally moving your hips as he slowly pulls away from the kiss.

“is my princess so needy already, huh? you want me to help you, don't you?” he slowly lifts you up, unbuttoning his shirt in a teasingly slow manner.

you bite your lip and nod, staring intently at his every move. the veins that decorate his hands, the slight silver of his abs make you even needier.

“taehyun, don't tease..!” you whine quietly, eager hands traveling down to his pants as you quickly unbutton them, opening the fly and pulling them down.

he smirks at your actions, taking his shirt off and putting his hands on your hips again, starting to grind you against him. “don't worry, i will help you.. you're so greedy that you couldn't even wait..”

you let out a moan, trying to speed up his movements, the fabric of your thin sweater falling down your shoulder. your soaked panties wet his boxers, making you feel all the veins on his cock as your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense pleasure.

“did i tell you that you can move on your own? don't forget your rules, pretty..” he pulls your panties to the side with his middle finger, rubbing against your wet folds as he slides his boxers down.

you close your eyes, quickly positioning his cock at your entrance, looking into his eyes with a pleading look. “please, can i..?”

he bites his lip, nodding his head. he helps you slide down, his voice croaking when he feels your warm and wet walls swallow him. he pulls up your sweater, hands finding your hardened nipples in seconds.

the feeling makes you whimper softly, starting to slowly bounce up and down, breath hitching with every brush of his tip against your cervix. “a-ah, taehyun..!”

he pinches your right nipple, attaching his lips to the other one as he starts sucking, his own eyes closing. he feels his ego raise up knowing that he is the one to make you so bothered.

you pick up the rate of your movements, breasts bouncing against taehyun's face as you let out a soft moan every second, almost forgetting that you're not alone in this hotel.

his thrusts meet your movements as he pulls his mouth away from your chest, connected to your nipple with his saliva. “fuck, you're making me feel so good..” he lets out a low and breathy moan, pulling your head to him and kissing you.

you feel the knot tighten in your tummy embarrassingly fast, desperate to reach your climax as you kiss him desperately, tongues and teeth clashing together.

you both moan and grunt into eachother’s mouth, taehyun bites down on your bottom lip, enjoying the reaction he gets from you.

if your eyes were open, they would be definitely rolled to the back of your head, your brain turning into mush. all you can focus on is taehyun's fat cock hitting all your sweet spots deliciously.

he pulls away from the kiss, his head thrown back as it hits the headrest. his jaw drops lightly, his mouth open in a ‘o’ shape. “god, i'm so fucking close princess.. think you can take it? me filling you up s-so nicely?”

you nod your head, already dumb on his cock, mouth going dry as you close your eyes, letting out a low cry. “p-please, need it s-so much! g-give it to me, pleasepleaseplease!”

he flips you over suddenly, pounding into you so fast that you might start seeing starts. he nips at your neck, leaving small love bites in his way. “fuck, you're such a dumb cockslut..” your hand tries to reach his and he immediately holds it, connecting your hands. “shhh, yeah, i know, i know..”

you start to squirm under him, glistening out eyes looking up into his own dark ones. you feel more tears well up in your eyes, gripping onto his hand and shoulder as you reach your peak with a loud scream of his name. your shaking legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his back.

he grits his teeth, thrusting one more time as his own climax hits him hard, painting your inside white. his shaft throbs inside you breathing heavily and gasping. he stays like that for a few seconds, then starts to slowly move again.

you whine, feeling too sensitive now as your hands reach out to him. you let out a squeal with each thrust, your back arching almost uncomfortably. “n-no, too much tyunnie!”

he chuckles, wiping the sweat off of his forehead as he stops his movements, falling on top of you. “don't worry, i was just teasing you.. you look so pretty now, you know?”

he slowly pulls out, his eyes darken for a second as he looks at the creamy mess gushing out from your hole. he licks his lips, pushing it back inside you with his finger.

you close your eyes, wrapping your arms around him as you hug him. he licks his fingers and returns your embrace, closing his eyes.

“baby, i want to sleep now.. goodnight..” you mumble quietly, already starting to doze off. taehyun smiles softly, looking at your peaceful expression.

he waits until you fully fall asleep and gets up, grabbing a wet cloth as he cleans up the two of you, laying down on the bed again. he turns the lights off, relaxing in your comfortable presence.

the night goes on as you two rest mindlessy, not knowing about the noise complains you will receive in the morning from the other residents. but it doesn't care now, as long as taehyun has you wrapped around him and you enjoy his warmth everything is good.

@beomiracles here you gooooo :33

[sphvm]

older sisters best friend g!p Daniela x fem reader???

Readers older sister and dani have a sleepover at reader house and dani just can't stop taking her eyes off of reader and she finally makes a move when she steps in reader room in order to check up on her.

One word: backshots

Reader(who's much shorter compared to dani) and dani have a 2 year age gap

Please and Thank you<333

make a move — daniela avanzini

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

tags: dom!dani, g!p dani, lil bit of praise

masterlist

MEN AND MINORS DNI

the house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old wooden floors. the air was thick with the scent of lavender and vanilla, remnants of the candles your sister had lit earlier. dani, your sister's best friend, was sprawled out on the couch, her long legs draped over the armrest, her eyes never straying far from you. you could feel the weight of her gaze, a simmering tension that made your skin tingle.

dani was two years older than you, and she was much taller, with a lean, athletic build that spoke of hours spent dancing. her blonde hair cascaded down her back in curls, and her eyes were a piercing hazel, always seeming to see right through you. you, on the other hand, were much shorter, barely reaching her shoulder, and your frame was slender, almost delicate in comparison.

you’ve always had a bit of a crush on dani. you’ve never acted on your feelings, of course, dani is your sister's friend, and you've always been the responsible one in the family.

but tonight, as you're all gathered at your house for a sleepover, you can't help but notice the way dani keeps looking at you. she’s lounging on the couch, her long legs stretched out in front of her, and she keeps glancing over at you with a little smile on her face.

"i’m going to run to the grocery store to get some more snacks," your sister says, grabbing her keys. "you two be good."

as soon as she's gone, dani turns to you. "hey, can i come up to your room for a sec?" she asks.

you nod, feeling your heart start to race. you lead her up to your bedroom and close the door behind you. dani looks around, her eyes taking in your posters, your books, your bed.

without another word, she pushes the door closed behind her and leaned against it, her eyes never leaving yours.

"dani..." you began, but she cut you off with a shake of her head.

"shh," she whispered, her voice low and husky. "don’t say anything."

she pushed off the door and took a step towards you, her movements slow and deliberate. you could feel the heat radiating off her body, the air between you thick with anticipation. she reached out, her fingers brushing against your cheek, her touch light and teasing.

"you’re so beautiful," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "so perfect."

you shivered at her words, your breath catching in your throat. she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "i know you want me too."

you nodded, unable to form words, your body trembling with need. whe chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. she pulled back slightly, her eyes raking over your body, taking in every detail.

"good," she said, her voice filled with satisfaction. as she presses her body against yours, you can feel the heat radiating off of her. your hands explore her curves, gripping her hips and pulling her closer. dani’s lips are soft and inviting as they press against yours, immediately moving, and you can't help but let out a low moan as she deepens the kiss.

"i’ve wanted to do this all night," dani says, breaking the kiss for a moment. her voice is husky and full of desire.

"mmf—me too," you reply, your own voice barely above a whisper.

your hands continue to roam dani’s body, and she does the same to you. you can feel her fingers tracing the outline of your breasts over your shirt, and you can't help but arch your back, pressing yourself into her touch. "you’re so fucking hot," dani murmurs, her lips finding yours once again.

as she continues to kiss you, your hands make their way under each other's clothes. you can feel the warmth of dani’s fingertips against your back as she caresses your skin.

she grips your hips and pushes you back, forcing you to stumble onto your bed with her following shortly after. as she climbed on top of you, she reached down, her fingers deftly unbuttoning your jeans. you gasped as she slid them down your legs, your underwear following soon after.

"on your stomach," she commanded, her voice firm and authoritative.

you obeyed, your heart pounding in your chest as you turned and propped your ass up. she moved behind you, you could hear her belt being taken off and her pants rustling as her hands gripped your hips as she positioned herself. you could feel the head of her cock pressing against you, the heat of it searing through your skin.

"ready?" she asked, her voice low and rough.

you nodded, your breath hitching in your throat as she pushed inside you, her cock filling you. inch by inch, you let out quiet whimpers, her fingers digging crescents into your hips. as she bottomed out, she let a soft groan out. “tell me when i can—mmf—move.”

after a second or two of adjusting, you looked back and gave her a nod. as her hips began to move, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you. her cock slid in and out of you, the friction building with each thrust. you cried out, your body trembling with pleasure as she fucked you.

"fuck, you feel so good," dani whimpered, her voice husky with desire. ”so goddamn—tight!” she leaned forward, her lips brushing against your ear as the sounds of you hips clapping together grew louder.

you could feel her body pressed against yours, her skin slick with sweat. her hands gripped your hips, her fingers digging into your flesh as she thrust into you. “oh dani—oh my god—“

as she fucked you harder, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to coming. dani reached around and began to play with your clit, rubbing and pinching which sent you over the edge. you cried out, your body shaking with pleasure as you came.

dani fucked you through your orgasm, her pace increasing as she neared her own orgasm. finally, her head came down on your shoulder as she let out a loud moan, her body shuddering as she came. she collapsed on top of you, the two of you panting and sweating in the aftermath.

[twistersobsessed]

more scott and boone please!!! thank youuuuu

Scott & Boone | NSFW Headcanons

Boone

Boone loves like a dog

He’s a giver, through and through

He’s typically the dominant party, but sometimes he’ll let you ride him, and he looks up at you with these big brown eyes full of reverence; he worships you

Gives absolutely phenomenal head, prefers giving to receiving but he’s definitely not one to complain if you want to suck him off

Has a thing for marking you up with hickies and bites; he’s possessive and loves to show people who you belong to

Lowkey a turn on for him when people point out the hickies he’s given you in their YouTube comments

While Boone is the dominant one in bed, he’s much more focused on worshiping your body than actually dominating you

He gets off on your pleasure

His favorite positions are ones where he can see your face; he likes to be able to watch your expressions of pleasure

He’s not incredibly kinky, he’s one to make love rather than have sex

He’s turned on by the sounds you make as he pleasures you, as well as you begging; he loves to listen to you beg

Sometimes he’ll tease you but he can never stand to do it for long, he always gives in

Makes sure you cum before he does

Hates condoms; he wants to feel you to the fullest, and there’s something especially intimate to him about cumming inside

Boone is all about eye contact; it embarasses you sometimes

Unfortunately, you’re usually having sex in motels and the walls are thin so you have to keep quiet, which sucks for Boone because he likes to hear you moan, but he stuffs his bandana in your mouth to muffle you and it’s almost equally as hot

He’s a tits man and he loves sucking titty

Has lowkey called you mommy before

Scott

This man loves to dominate, but he’s a soft dom

100% talks you through it, this man is mouthy in bed; a healthy mix of praise and degration

He has a size kink; how could he not, he’s 6’4

Likes giving head just as much as he likes receiving it

You’ve tried 69ing but you both get sloppy from pleasure so you tend to give head one at a time now

His favorite position is either mssionary or the mating press

Scott has a breeding kink, he never uses condoms

Even if you’re on birth control this man insists on trying to get you pregnant

I’m talking he’ll finish in you, pull out, and fuck the cum back into you with his fingers

Makes you overstimulated every time, but manages to pull at least one mind-blowing orgasm first

Scott’s the kind of a guy to press his hand down on your lower stomach while he fucks you and it makes you cry out every single time

He’s a tits man like Boone and loves to suck on them

Loves fingering you; no particular reason why he just really enjoys it, sometimes he’ll do it to you in the car while he’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat

Calls you “baby,” “honey,” “sweetheart,” and “princess”

Kisses you while you cum and while he cums, but he’s a pro at making you cum together

Loves to lick his fingers clean after fingering you, making direct eye contact while doing so

Sometimes he enjoys hitting it from the back so he can watch your ass, he’s not strictly a tits man

Doesn’t allow it often because he’s so dominant, but once in a while lets you ride him and looks up at you with stars in his eyes

[rindousfavoritewife]

Rindou is the green flag boyfriend but red flag ex boyfriend.

The type ex you thought you could trust to be the DJ for your wedding, until you hear a recording of yourself moaning his name playing through out the ceremony while you’re walking down the aisle.

He wouldn’t run away either, just simply say “oh, sorry about that. Wrong track, let’s restart.” With a smirk on his pretty little lips.

[loserboysandlithium]

WHATEVER YOU DO, do NOT think about. . .

Contacting mean!ex-boyfriendEddie, breaking the no-contact rule because you’re so fed up and tired of all the monotony because you and him both know that you miss one another. You text him, and he hits you with;

"tf do you want. we’re not supposed to be talking remember?"

“good morning to you too jackass.”

lemme guess, you want some dick?

well you said it not me.

“mhm I’m omw you cockstarved whore."

hurry up you big dicked weirdo.

😒 😒

Def not thinking about it. 😵‍💫

And then he’s fucking you so hard you can’t do anything but scream his name again and again.

“That’s right, baby. Taking me so fuckin’ well.”

His strong hand is gripping your throat so tight his rings are sure to leave behind a little necklace of bruises.

“Missed my cock that bad, sweetheart? Tell me you missed me.” he growls in your ear as he pauses his thrusts, keeping himself buried deep inside.

You try to roll your hips in an attempt to make him keep fucking you but his other hand moves to your hip, holding you down firmly, making you whimper pathetically.

“Tell me. Tell me how much you missed me and I’ll give you what you want.” he chuckles darkly, bringing his face around to meet your eyes.

“F-fuck you.” you spit in his face watching with delight as his features darken even more.

His lips curl into a smirk as his rings dig deeper into your hipbone. You let out a soft whine as he slowly pulls out, leaving your pussy aching for him. His tip is still pressed against your entrance as he cocks his head to the side.

“Say. It.”

“I missed your cock.” you breathe out followed by a needy moan as he dips his thick head back into you, feeling the delicious stretch.

“What else? Just my cock, baby?” he raises an eyebrow as he glides in another inch.

“You. Eddie, I- I missed you. Please, baby.” you whine, squirming beneath his strong hold.

“I missed you too, you fuckin’ brat.” he grins as he drives his cock into you, filling you completely, knocking the breath from your lungs.

[ghostgirl-22]

thoughts on forcefem! art?

Oh god. No. Because he loves it. Acts all annoyed but the flush gives him away. When Patrick walks in on him in the bath and insists on helping him shave his long legs (“gotta be aerodynamic,” Patrick agrees just to get his hands on him). Patrick asks if he can dress him up when they’re done, pretty please!! It’s just silly, and he’s bored, please.

“This is stupid but fine,” Art says like he isn’t already half aroused by the way Patrick helped him lather up with shaving cream. Famous last words.

Patrick knows how to do make up and everything. As the youngest his sisters used him as a guinea pig. He’s even got the perfect little skirt, his ex left it and stole his favorite hoodie and basketball shorts he might as well get some wear out of it.

It’s so fucking short on Art, barely hides his cock. Arts legs are so long. Patrick doesn’t have any panties, but he’s got a pair of sheer tights from the same girl. Gets on his knees to roll them up over Arts baby smooth calves. Trying to ignore the obvious rush of blood to Art’s cock and the way it’s swelling up.

Ignoring also the tiny little breaths that come from Art as he rolls them up over his thighs, over his dick. Or the way he steps forward just a little… a silent plea for Patrick to suck him off.

“Not yet,” Patrick whispers, calls him pretty girl and gets to his feet. He makes Art sit on the toilet seat and straddles him. Using Tashi’s old mascara she left in his hotel room he presses Arts bangs back and lengthens those already long eyelashes. Blue eyes going glassy and dilating just from being this close. And with Tashis tinted lip gloss, another trinket she forgot to pick up…(or maybe Patrick snuck away) he paints Arts lips a shimmery shade of pink. Kissing him every minute just to taste it. Sticky delicate kisses.

“Fuck,” Art shivers, squirming under Patrick’s weight. Especially when Patrick keeps calling him “princess” and “angel” and teasing his titties. Giving them little sucking kisses too and then blowing on them till his nipples are taut and hard.

Arts so fucking eager now. Patrick can feel him. God. he can feel him. Nowhere to hide in that little baby skirt and no panties. Patrick’s pretending he’s not equally as hard, maybe harder.

“You’re my good girl aren’t you,” Patrick whispers, standing up. He can hear the door outside. Art’s college roommate’s home. An English major, steps away from writing Art a sonnet to declare his love. “Wanna show your roommate what we did? Ask him if you look pretty?”

Art flushes more. “No, Patrick please,” he whimpers.

“Come on baby, you’re always talking about your roomie. How funny he is? You don’t think he’d like you like this? Pretty princess?”

“Patrick,” Art breathes.

Patrick chews his cheeks, his body is heated from the inside out. He knows he did it but he feels like he’s going insane looking at Art like this. Pretty isn’t really enough. Patrick can feel his heart pounding in his dick. “You don’t think he wants to fuck you just like this?” Patrick continues rambling. He’s steps away from Art. Plays with one of his nipples just to watch him squirm a little more. “You don’t think he wants to suck on your tits. Kiss your cunt.”

Art hitches his breath and looks down, toeing the ground, knees knocking together. Damp blonde curls falling into his eyes. There’s already a tear in the tights. He’s got his hands intertwined, just in front of his cock, trying to hide the way it’s lifting the skirt upwards, nearly exposing everything. The blush is spreading to his collarbone. His nipples are red, sticky and erect from Patrick’s kisses. His tight little tummy rising and falling with his anxious breaths.

God. Patrick doesn’t want to fucking share him. “Think you can be quiet?” He asks softly.

Art nods, eyes dilated, shimmery wet lips parted.

“Promise?” Patrick asks again.

“Mmhm.”

And Patrick rips at the tights because he’s lost patience and fucks him up against the bathroom sink with just a few pumps of liquid hand-soap as lube. Arts coming all over the skirt, spilling it in the sink in no time. He looks so pretty and debauched when Patrick’s done, eyes glassy, flushed all over, mascara smudged, lip gloss smeared, sticky kisses all over his throat. He’s grabbing at Patrick, kissing him wet. Patrick almost shoves the skirt up and does it again.

[natti-ice]

11 with Eddie 🤭🖤 congrats on 7k lovebug 😘

Thank you🩷🩷 we’ll pretend it’s 7k😭

18+ mdni

You and Eddie are cuddled up in bed watching tv just as you do every night, his arm is wrapped around you as you lay your head on his chest. You rub gentle soothing circles on his belly before slowly inching down his front, you run your fingers along the waistband of his boxers teasingly as you look up at Eddie. “May I?” You ask softly.

He smiles down at you, “I’d never turn you down, sweetheart” you took this as a yes and slipped your hand in, your hand gripped his already hardening cock and began to stroke his length. He let out low moans and soft groans as the pleasure rushed through his body “mmm,” he hums gently “Your hand feels much better than my own.” You chuckle then lean in giving him a sweet but sensual kiss, your tongues intertwine while you jerk him off to completion.

Join my 700 celebration!

[voxmortuus]

Number 139. for Love Quinn xFem!reader please?

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Love Quinn x F!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ You ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 495 ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ From THIS prompt list: 139. “take off your underwear” - “but, there’s other people here” - “they won’t see you, there’s an entire table here” ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Public smut | Fingering in public | Reader hinting to public oral | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I will literally write for any character you send me prompts for; I love branching out! So, thank you for sending me Love Quinn! This was a nice break from ATJ and others. ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @tvandfilm ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist *̥˚✧

The restaurant was beautiful, but of course, it was, and with Love, you wouldn't expect anything less. This woman knew how to wow you, she knew what made you tick, she knew what got your gears going in a matter of words. She knew how to give you culture, she knew how to make you smile and laugh. She gave you butterflies and she very much knew she made you feel these things, but truthfully, you told her almost daily. Looking down at yourself you often wonder why she's with you, but she always reminds you that it's what's on the inside that matters more than anything. That is most important because you need to not think badly about yourself because she loves you for you, for all of you. For every curve bump and every imperfection, in her eyes, you are art.

Looking around you draw in a breath and bite on the bottom corner of your lip before you reach for your glass and take a small sip of your beverage you look over at her and smile. You admire her, the curve of her lips, the blue of her eyes, the soft feather-like strands of her hair. With a few blinks and a warm hand on your arm, you shake your head and smile.

"Shit, hi, yes, sorry… what?" you ask. "I was just admiring you. You're absolutely stunning tonight." you state softly.

"Oh please, you're the stunning one, but did you not hear what I said?" She asked.

You flush softly and shake your head. "No, sorry, I was too busy admiring you."

"I asked you to take off your underwear.” she smirks after stating so rather bluntly.

You bink a few times and look over her face and tilt your head, and you clear your throat and lean in… "Uhhhmmm… but, there’s other people here.” you give her a nervous chuckle.

Licking her lip she takes a sip from her glass and looks back at you. "They won’t see you, there’s an entire table here." she smirks.

You flush deeply and look around and you draw in a deep breath and look around again before you slip your dress up and you slip your panties off and put them in your purse. She watches you and smirks and she places her hand on your thigh and slides her hand up your thigh and smirks slipping her fingers between your legs to feel you.

You went to speak but she gave you a stern look and smirked as she started to play with your sensitive bud. You bite your lip and you let out a soft breath. To be honest, she wasn't going to care if the whole establishment heard you.

"After this, I'm getting under the table." You state boldly.

All she could do was chuckle and look over your face. "Good thing I never wear panties." She chuckled softly as she slipped her fingers into your warm dewy core.

[biscuityskies]

I had smth in the drafts for wip Wednesday two (electric boogaloo) and then I despised all of my writing so here we are with wip Wednesday THREE with uhh. Would you hate me if I said pinch points again.

Obi-Wan wakes to the soft rumble and slight vertigo of the ship in hyperspace— and the quiet breaths of Cody asleep in his arms, his head pillowed on Obi-Wan’s bicep. He can feel Cody’s pulse from where his hand is pressed against his bare back. Steady, slow. Present. It accelerates with each inhale, slows down again before the next inhale. All of the pain that Cody has felt, all of the times his heart has stuttered, it’s as though they never happened as Obi-Wan feels the constant, reliable beat of Cody’s heart beneath his fingertips.

He feels it when Cody wakes, too, not much later. His heart rate speeds up to a waking rate, and all of his muscles tense against the length of Obi-Wan’s body with the sense of waking in an unfamiliar place before relaxing again under a newly familiar touch.

His gaze snaps sharply to Obi-Wan’s. “Was that real?” he asks in a hoarse whisper.

Obi-Wan smiles at him, traces his thumb down one of the marks that he accidentally made last night along Cody’s back just to watch him shiver under his hands. “What does your heart tell you?”

[tyunderella]

professor choi

🎧 choi yeonjun x fem!afab!reader, mdni!

🎧 warnings: smut, college professor!yeonjun, student! reader, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, both reader and yeonjun are adults in their 20's!!, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), cum eating, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public (?), marking (hickeys, f. and m. receiving), praise (f. receiving), petnames (princess, good girl), slight tit play (mentioned maybe once), multiple orgasms (f.), lmk if you find something that i should add here!

🎧 a/n: comments and opinions are very appreciated, don't be shy :3 made in light mode, the banner might look silly on dark mode >.< it's my second work, i wanted it to be longer but i gave up.. @_@ thanks to my mooties who helped me with their kind words.. :3 kisses for you guys fr! also i posted it very late lol but the fic is finally out aaah kinda proud 🙏🏻

the lecture hall buzzed with the usual chatter of students settling in before class. you slid into your usual spot—second row, slightly off to the side. it was close enough to see the board clearly but not so close that you felt exposed. the thick notebook on your desk was already opened to a fresh page, a highlighter neatly tucked into the coil, but your grip on your pen was loose. history wasn’t exactly your strong suit.

and professor choi yeonjun didn’t make it any easier to concentrate.

as always, yeonjun strode into the room, a cup of coffee in one hand, a laptop in the other. he was dressed pretty casually today, a plain white t-shirt tucked into his slacks, short sleeves showing off his arms. the room seemed to straighten up a little in his presence—well, at least most of it.

"alright, alright, let’s quiet down." he called out, his deep voice carrying effortlessly over the noise. his smile was easy, charming, and just mischievous enough to make you wonder what kind of trouble he’d been up to before walking in.

your eyes flicked down to your notebook, hoping to avoid direct eye contact.

"well, hello princess.” he greeted as he passed by your seat, his tone teasing and soft, low enough that only you could hear.

your cheeks warmed at his words. he started calling you that a few weeks ago when he saw your friends put on a paper crown on your head. it wasn’t mean-spirited, but it stuck—every now and then, he’d throw it into his comments when addressing you. it made you feel seen and embarrassed all at once.

today, you didn’t respond, just tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and pretended to focus on the slides he was pulling up on the projector.

"alright, let’s get serious for a second.” yeonjun said as he perched on the edge of his desk, crossing his legs casually. "today’s the big day. history 101 midterm. you’ve been preparing for this, right?"

a wave of groans rippled through the class.

yeonjun laughed, running a hand through his hair. "come on, don’t sound so defeated! this is your chance to shine." his eyes flicked to you briefly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "even my princess might surprise me."

you rolled your eyes internally but smiled faintly.

the test wasn’t as bad as you’d feared—but it wasn’t great either. some questions were straightforward, while others had you chewing the end of your pen in frustration. by the time you handed it in, you knew you’d probably passed… barely.

a few days later, yeonjun was standing at the front of the room, flipping through the graded exams as students filed in. his denim button-up shirt had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jeans on the baggier side, his more classy outfit. he wore his confidence like a second skin.

"morning.” he greeted. "if i look tired, it’s because i spent all night grading your tests. you’re welcome."

a wave of chuckles rippled through the room, but your stomach twisted a little. you weren’t dreading your score, but you weren’t looking forward to it either.

he started calling out names, handing back papers with comments scribbled in the margins. when he got to you, his expression softened slightly. he walked over to your desk and placed the test face-down in front of you.

"princess..” he murmured, leaning down just enough that his words reached your ear. "we need to talk after class."

your pulse quickened.

the lecture dragged on for what felt like hours, though you knew it was your nerves. when the last student left, you stayed seated, pretending to pack up your things as yeonjun locked the classroom door.

"alright, let’s see what’s going on.” he said, sitting on the edge of the desk directly in front of yours.

he gestured for you to pass him your test. you slid it over, avoiding his gaze.

"you’re not bad at history." he said after a moment, his tone thoughtful. "you’ve got potential. but it feels like you’re holding back."

"i’m not good at memorizing dates and stuff..” you admitted, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

"history isn’t just about dates.” he replied, leaning forward. his cologne—something woodsy and clean—reached you, making it harder to think. "it’s about stories. people. perspectives. you’re good at writing, but your answers lack confidence. why’s that?"

"i don’t know.." you muttered, shrugging.

he sighed, tapping the test against his knee. "you’re not going to get better if you don’t try, princess. you’re too quiet, too passive. i know there’s more to you than this."

something in his tone made you glance up. his eyes were locked on yours, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.

"you just… disappear in class." he said, almost to himself.

you swallowed hard.

"i want to help you.” yeonjun continued, his voice softer now. he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "but you’ve got to meet me halfway."

"i’ll try." you said, though it sounded weak even to your own ears.

yeonjun chuckled, shaking his head. "there’s that mindset again. don’t just try—do it."

his gaze dipped briefly, flicking over you like he was noticing something for the first time. you’d worn a simple dress today, nothing fancy, but the way his eyes lingered on the curve of your shoulder sent a ripple of warmth through you.

"is that understood?" he asked, but there was an edge to his voice now—something heavier, more deliberate.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. you clear your throat softly, refusing to look into his eyes.

"good.” he said, but he didn’t move. neither did you.

the silence stretched, thick and charged. when he finally spoke again, his voice was lower, rougher.

"you’re distracting." he said bluntly, his eyes meeting yours again.

your breath hitched. "what?"

"you heard me.” he murmured, a small, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

before you could process what was happening, he leaned in, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. the touch was light, barely there, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

"you’re not embarassed, are you?" he whispered.

his face was so close now that you could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his lips parted slightly as if he was debating his next move. and then he made it.

he kissed you.

it was slow at first, almost hesitant, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. but when you didn’t, it deepened, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. his lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with a hunger that made your head spin.

you didn’t know where to put your hands at first, but they found their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if to ground yourself.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard.

"princess..” he murmured, his voice rough. "you’re full of surprises."

you were as shocked as he was.

you sat frozen in your chair, lips tingling from the kiss, unsure of what to do or say. yeonjun's forehead still rested against yours, and his hand remained at the back of your neck, his thumb grazing your skin lightly.

"i shouldn't have done that.." he whispered, though there was no regret in his voice-only a quiet conflict. his eyes flickered to yours, searching for a reaction.

your heart pounded as you shook your head slightly. "i... i didn't mind."

a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "no?"

you bit your lip and shook your head again.

he sighed, leaning back slightly, but the space between you felt electric, like a taut string that could snap at any moment. his fingers reluctantly slid from your neck, but his eyes didn't leave yours.

"this is dangerous." he said, his voice soft but steady. "you know that, right?”

you nodded, your throat dry.

he laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair, which had become slightly disheveled from the intensity of the moment. "but god, you make it hard to care about the rules."

the warmth in your cheeks spread to your neck. you felt equal parts flattered and nervous, unsure how to navigate this sudden shift in dynamic.

"are you... mad at me?" you asked timidly, breaking the silence.

"mad at you?" his brows lifted in surprise, and then he shook his head, a grin softening his expression. "no, princess, i'm not mad at you. if anything, i'm slightly frustrated with myself."

"why?"

his grin faded slightly, replaced by a look of longing that made your breath catch. "because i can't seem to keep my distance. and i know i should.”

the next few days were surreal. every time you stepped into the lecture hall, your heart would race, and you couldn't help but glance at yeonjun. he was professional, as always, but his eyes seemed to find yours more often, lingering just a moment longer than they should.

the morning of today’s lecture was the same as any other-or so you thought. your alarm blared at its usual obnoxious volume, pulling you from the comfort of sleep. you groan, dragging yourself out of bed and straight into your routine.

the sunlight streaming through your window felt almost too bright, making you squint as you shuffled to the bathroom. today was a history day -a fact that usually filled you with mild dread, but recently, it left you feeling... something else. something you didn't want to name.

"come on.." you mutter to yourself as you rummage through your closet, pulling out a sweater and a pair of jeans. then you hesitate.

instead, you reach for a fitted black top and a skirt you haven’t worn in a while. it wasn't overly revealing, but it felt a bit more put-together than your usual outfit. you brush your hair with more care than usual, adding an even bigger touch of make-up than you usually do before grabbing your bag.

you tell yourself it was just because you felt like putting in effort today- not because of him..

the campus was alive with its usual hum of activity as you make your way to the lecture hall. students clustered in groups outside, laughing, talking, sipping on overpriced coffee.

you walk briskly, clutching your bag strap tighter than necessary. there was an odd fluttering in your chest that you try to ignore.

you arrive a little early, as always, sitting down in your seat.

the lecture hall filled quickly, and soon the low hum of chatter surrounded you. you glance up from your notebook when the door opened, and there he was.

choi yeonjun.

as usual, he strodes in with a confident ease that draws everyone's attention. his fitted blazer only emphasizes his lean frame, and the way he carries himself makes him seem taller than he already is. his hair is slightly mussed, like he'd run a hand through it one too many times, but it only added to his charm.

"morning, everyone.” he greets, his voice smooth and warm as always. "i hope you're ready to dive into some revolutionary chaos.”

you scribble notes as he speaks, but it was hard to focus entirely on the content. your attention keeps drifting to the way he moves, the way he gestures with his hands as he explains concepts, the way his lips curl when he makes a joke.

"okay, let's make this a conversation.” he says, leaning casually against the desk at the front of the room. "what do you think drove the french revolution-economic desperation or political ideology?"

the question hungs in the air, and several hands shot up. you keep your gaze on your notebook, hoping he wouldn't call on you.

but you feel his eyes on you before you hear him speak.

"princess.” he says, a playful lilt in his voice. "let's hear your take."

a few chuckles ripple through the room, and your cheeks burn. you look up to find him watching you with that familiar teasing smirk, his head tilted slightly.

“i, uh..." you fumble for words, the weight of everyone's attention making your throat dry. "i think it was both."

”both?" he prompted, his smirk softening into a curious smile.

you nod, finding a bit more confidence as you go on. "people were starving, so economic desperation pushed them to act. but... without the ideas of liberty and equality, they wouldn't have had a vision to rally behind. so, i think the ideology made it bigger than just survival."

the room gets quiet for a bit, and you wonder if you said something stupid. but then yeonjun grins, his eyes lighting up with approval.

"exactly.” he says, his tone warm and encouraging. "ideology gave them hope. well said, princess."

the pride in his voice sends a flutter through your chest.

the rest of the lecture passed in a blur. you answered another question later-something you almost never did-and while your classmates didn't seem to notice anything unusual, you felt a strange energy lingering between you and yeonjun.

as the class fills out, you gather your things slowly, trying to appear casual even though your pulse was racing.

"princess.” yeonjun calls, his voice cutting through the chatter. "can you stay back for a moment again?"

your heart thuds in your chest as you nod, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

the memories of what happened last time when you stayed after the class flood your mind.

yeonjun leans against his desk, arms crossed as he watches you approach. his expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that made him look different.

"you were good today.” he points out, his voice quieter than usual.

"thanks..” you murmur, glancing down at your shoes.

"no, really." he insisted, stepping closer. "i knew you had it in you.”

the way he said it- so soft, so sincere- made your cheeks warm. you look up at him, meeting his gaze, and the intensity there makes your breath hitch.

"you're different today.” he says after a moment, almost to himself.

"different how?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. is he talking about your clothes? was your highlighter too visible?

he tilts his head, studying you. "you're more confident. bold, even."

you open your mouth to respond, but the words get caught in your throat as he steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

"you look really great, you know?" he whispers, his voice low and rough.

your heart pounds as he reaches out, his fingers brushing against your arm. the touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

"yeonjun-"

he silences you with a kiss. again. just like he did before.

his lips are soft, warm, and the feel of them against yours sends a thrill down your spine. again.

when you don’t pull away, he deepens the kiss, his hand moving to cup your cheek. your bag slips down from your shoulder, landing on the floor with a soft thud, but you barely notice.

you kiss him back, your hands finding their way to his chest. you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms, matching the wild rhythm of your own.

"god..” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough. "i shouldn't be doing this."

"but you shouldn't stop either." you whisper, surprising yourself with the boldness of your own words.

a low groan escapes him, and his hands move to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. he kisses you harder, more desperate now, and you respond with equal fervor.

your fingers tangle in his hair, and his grip on your waist tighten as if he couldn't bear to let go. his lips leave yours briefly, trailing down your jawline to your neck, and a soft gasp escapes you before you could stop it.

"you’re too hot for your own good..” he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with both frustration and longing.

”yeonjun..."

he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. his hands are still on your waist, holding you firmly in place.

"do you want to continue?” he asks, his breathing heavy as he looks at you through lust filled eyes.

your eyes widen slightly but you quickly nod, not showing even a hint of hesitance. you quickly pull him closer, connecting your lips again.

he slowly pulls you up, leading you to his desk, making your back touch the cold wood. he wraps his arms around your waist like you might disappear if he stops, his breathing getting heavier.

you don’t hesitate to pull him as close as you can, letting his body heat embrace you. you would be lying if you said that the pool of arousal in your panties wasn't increasing.

his lips are soft, exactly just like you imagined them to be.

you move your hands up his chest, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. he slightly pulls back, his lips not daring to leave yours but allowing you to take off his shirt.

you don't hesitate to show how much you want it, not wasting a second as you pop off all the buttons, but you let his shirt stay on his broad shoulders.

his hands move up to your thighs, caressing the soft and smooth skin as he lets his hands wanded up your inner thighs.

the touch starts slow and maybe even has a hint of teasing in it as you gasp against his mouth, a small string of saliva connecting yours and yeonjun's lips ad you slowly pull away to catch your breath.

he just smirks at you, his fingers finding the lace of your panties as his thumb slowly rubs your clit, making your breath hitch.

"m-more, please.." you whisper quietly, the fact that you're still in class making your urge to moan like a bitch and jump on him lower.

yeonjun's darkened eyes look at yours, slowly pulling the material that covers the place where you need him the most.

you bite your lips, looking at him with huge and pleading eyes, trying to hold back the little moans that escape your mouth.

"you can be quiet for me, right?" his voice is low and deep, making you whine and nod dumbly in response, mind already hazy. "good girl.."

he rubs your folds with his middle finger, collecting your arousal as he makes sure that you're ready and relaxed enough for him. he slowly pushes his finger inside you, your walls clenching around him.

"o-oh fuck, yeonjun..!" you moan quietly, looking up at the ceiling as you pray that no one walks in. he starts moving his finger in and out, enjoying your reactions.

he pushes a second finger in, curling them as he watches your expressions, looking for any discomfort but he only finds pure pleasure- your brows furrow and your mouth opens in an 'o' shape.

"f-feels so good.. f-faster..!" you're almost panting, slightly embarassed by how fast you're getting worked up, but the feeling of his talented moves makes it quickly disappear. he hums at your request, his long fingers finding your g-spot with ease.

your whimpers get more frequent, your hands grasping on his arm for some kind of support, thighs almost closing around his hand. he's quick to spread them widely and rub your clit with his thumb in circles.

"are you close, princess? wanna cum around my fingers?" he moves closer and whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. you mewl out something incoherent in response, his free hand covering your mouth to silence your moans.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, walls clenching around his fingers like a vice as your hips buck up to meet his movements, gripping his arms and creaming all over yeonjun's fingers.

he lets out a groan of approval, slowly pulling out his fingers out of you, rubbing your clit to let you ride out your orgasm. he moves his hand from your mouth, tilting your chin up so you're looking at him. he puts his fingers in his mouth, licking up your release, eyes closing at the taste- he finds it divine.

he looks into your eyes as he slowly lowers his head down to your pussy, licking a stripe down all the way to your spent hole. he puts your legs over his shoulders, starting to devour you.

you let out a surprised moan, feeling slightly overstimulated. you don't stop him, your previous climax making you feel even more pleasure as you put your hand in his hair.

the wet sounds of slurping, moaning and panting fill the room as yeonjun treats you like his last meal. his tongue finds your hole, teasing it for a few seconds before spitting on your folds.

your hands grip his hair, maybe almost painfully, but it seems to spur him on even more, basically making out with your pussy at this point. you sob out, your eyes filling with tears of pleasure.

"i-i'm so close, s-so fucking close..! d-don't stop, please..!" he holds himself back from pulling his pants down and pounding you right now at the sound of your high pitched voice. he makes sure to do his best, and the last lick on your clit is what breaks you.

your creamy release gushes out of you again with a silent scream of his name as you start to squirm, thighs slightly shaking with your back arching and eyes closed. you feel him lick it up and you wail quietly, pulling his head up by using your hand that holds his hair and he just smiles softly.

"are you fine? let me wait a moment for you to calm down, hmm?" you don't let his words stay in your mind for long as you look him up and down. his lips are dripping with your juices, his hair messed up. you reach your hand to his crotch, feeling his dick twitch under his pants as you quickly take his belt off.

"so needy.." he chuckles at your eagerness, pulling his pants and boxers down low enough to free his erection that slaps against his abs. you lick your lips at the sight, immediately wrapping your hand around him.

yeonjun lets out a low groan, his eyes closing for a few seconds as he runs a hand through his hair. he slowly pulls your hand away, intertwining your hands together as he positions himself in front of your entrance. he starts to get impatient too, already extremely worked up. "can i?"

"d-don't be a tease and just do it.. i-i waited for it to happen for so long.." you try to move your hips and do the work on your own but he stops you, gripping your hips so they stay in their place. he slowly pushes the tip in, being the one to have his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

the feeling of you warm and tight walls feels even better than he could imagine, the feeling making him realize that he might have to hold himself from finishing way too quickly.

"yeah, did you? was my princess t-thinking about me..? how cute, i thought about you t-too.. dreamed about this little pussy every n-night.." he tries to control his voice, pushing himself in inch by inch, making sure to not hurt you. your hands wander around his body as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck.

you connect your lips together, letting your moans get muffled against his mouth. you tap his collarbone as a sign for him to start moving and he immediately gets the hint, starting with a slow pace.

his thrusts get more fast and hard with each move, the wet sounds of your arousal and lips smashing together fill his ears, making him grip your hips tighter.

you feel so full, and you swear that if you pulled away from his lips and looked down you would see the bulge in your tummy. you don't want to pull away from his lips, they feel so soft and sweet against you.

you wrap your legs around his waist, his hips rolling ata. fast pace, the rhythm making the two of you quickly reach your climax, sweaty bodies connected together. he slowly pulls away, whispering in your ear. "do you want your little pussy to get filled with my cum, princess..?"

you don't even give him a proper response and just moan and nod, brain turning into mush, the only thought you can form is how good you feel. you feel his hand reach up to your tit, squeezing softly as you reach your peak.

"f-fuck, fuck, fuck, princess..!" he lets out a breathy moan as he spurts inside you, moving his hips until he feels your mixed releases run down your thighs and drip down on the desk. it probably gets on some documents but he doesn't care, slowly pulling out.

you let out a small whimper at the sudden emptiness, the air around you is warm and thick. you look up at him, hazy eyes reaching his as he looks so good, you think that you could eat him alive if you could.

he reaches for a tissue, cleaning up the two of you with a soft expression as he presses a kiss to your stomach.

and you have no idea how it will change your relationship, but you're sure of the fact that it's not the last time something like that happened between the two of you.

🎧 @beomiracles @biteyoubiteme @tubasmiracle @choikanghuening <333