#gives him an excuse to talk to his friends again lol . its so over for me

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: none, König is afraid of women lol, pure fluff, König being all over you <3

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you met through a shared friend at the small party. It’s not even a party as such - about ten young people gathered with food and drinks, light music playing softly on the background as everyone chatted and laughed. Your eyes fell upon tall dark figure in the corner - a giant of a man was sitting silently, listening to a conversation his other two friends were having, adding to it time to time.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is silent, aloof and even intimidating, with his long hair and black band t-shirts with skulls and chains and scary looking letters. You think he doesn’t like you first time you approach him, just nodding curtly at whatever you have to say, occasionally giving the shortest, driest responses. But, strangely, you don’t feel any hostility coming from him, his presence open and welcoming, even despite his detached and even awkward demeanour.

Loser!Metalhead!König who actually freaks the fuck out when a pretty little thing like yourself comes up to talk to him. He’s struck, not knowing what to do or what to say, his fear of women, especially as gorgeous and beautiful as you, showing up on its fullest. Being more of a listener naturally he just lets you ramble his ear off, taking in your every word even if it looks like he doesn’t care much about what you have to say.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is drastically different from you. You, with your pretty pink crop top and baby blue jeans, white ribbons adorning your hair and glossed plump lips curving so gorgeously in a smile, are a complete opposite to König - huge burly body clad in all black and heavy chains, thick forearms and bulging biceps, thick eyebrows knitted together, a frown that seems to be permanent is tainting his sharp features.

Loser!Metalhead!König who can’t get you out of his head, memories of you flooding his brain for the next few weeks. You just struck him like lightning - your syrupy voice, gentle eyes gazing up at him as you told him some silly story from your childhood - in the dead of night König’s mind unmistakably wandered back to them, getting lost in your orbs all over again, broad chest filling with warm buzz.

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you meet weeks later in a city centre, accidentally running into him on your way back home from running errands. Your eyes light up upon recognising your new acquaintance, lips stretching in a wide smile and König feels as if all the air is being punched out of his chest. You greet him heartily, asking how he’s been and what he’s up to currently. And König, shocking himself even, grasps the opportunity, asking if you’d like to go grab some coffee because he’s dying for one right now (read as: I’m so painfully into you I’ll use any excuse to be around you). And you happily agree, leading him to that one coffee shop you love, which serves the most delicious chocolate cake he’ll ever have.

Loser!Metalhead!König who spends the rest of the day with you, first in the coffee shop and then going for a walk around the centre of Vienna, just talking about everything. Your bubbly and easygoing personality eases him out of his shell, making him talk more freely about his interests and hobbies, his chest tightening proudly upon seeing your amazed expression as he told you of his passion for playing guitars and drums, promising to teach you how to play a few chords in a future.

Loser!Metalhead!König who happily exchanges instas with you (his pictureless profile with 4 followers and name like kng69 lmao) scrolling in awe through all the photos you have there, littering your phone with repeated notifications of new like on your post. He’s sad when he notices the time, you telling him that you have to go home now, his ears perking up at your upset tone, meaning that you don’t want this day to end just as much as König does. He waits for your taxi to arrive, making sure you get in the right car, wishing you a safe ride home.

Loser!Metalhead!König who texts you on ig an hour later, asking if you got home safe. That message makes you smile stupidly at your phone as you reassure him that you’re all safe and sound at your place, adding that you enjoyed today and would like to meet up with König again someday. Now he’s the one grinning at his phone, pale blush dusting his high cheekbones as he lays sleepless in his bed, head full of buzzing thoughts and every single one of them is painfully full of you<3

A/n: might write part 2 of that, lmk if you’d like it🤭

[rosenclaws]

Hi! 👋

I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if I could submit a request?

The reader is a shy artist who is a friend of Wades. She carries a sketchbook with her everywhere to sketch new pieces, but she doesn't show her work to people unless it's to Wade.

She and Worst!Logan become friends and slowly develop feelings for one another, but they won't say anything to each other because they think that the other wouldn't want them. Until Worst!Logan finds her sketchbook by accident and finds the book is filled with sketches of him. Worst!Logan confronts her about it, but she's a stuttering mess, and they end up confessing to each other. And please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or a makeout session. Your choice lol.

Thank you and have a good day! 😊

Hidden Feelings and Hidden Sketches || Worst!Logan Howlett x Reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, wade making suggestive comments, make out sesh towards the end, reader gets drunk and logan helps her out. Logan also calls the reader sketch. It got kinda suggestive at the end I apologize sldfjka

a/n: Hi!! This idea is adorable omg I love it, I hope it was fluffy enough for you I have to admit I'm not great at writing pure fluff. I also hope wade is funny because I am not funny so its hard to write his dialogue sometimes. I also altered the plot a little so i hope its okay

You never quite understood how you and Wade became friends. He was possibly the biggest extrovert you have ever met and you were the exact opposite. He saw you once at his favorite diner with your sketchbook and he jumped into the seat across from you.

Yapping on about your art and if you drew often and that he once tried to paint but the class didn't appreciate his art and asking if you'd paint him naked as a present for his girlfriend. Which you declined very quickly.

He wouldn't leave you alone, talking and asking you all sorts of things. You getting a few words in and him covering the other 98% of the conversation. He left with the promise of seeing you again and disappeared before you could say anything else.

It was an odd experience that's for sure but you liked Wade. Sure enough he kept coming back and a friendship had blossomed. He invited you over to dinner multiple times but you always declined, choosing to meet at the diner instead.

Slowly he got you out of your shell around him. Cracking jokes and sometimes putting him in his place when he went a little too far. You showed him your sketchbook after a while and he gushed over your drawings. Begging you to draw him at his best angles and you would sometimes give in.

When he disappeared for a while you got worried, that is until he showed up with a new dog and a very handsome new friend. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. Wade spotted you and waved but you didn't even notice.

"I know right, he's like a tall glass of rage filled water." Wade sighs as he sits across from you.

"I uh what?" You hug your sketchbook close to your chest as you rip your eyes away from Wade's new friend.

"Oh don't pretend like you weren't eye fucking him the second he walked in here, not that I blame you." Your eyes widen as you start to stutter. Your face heating up as you stare at the pancakes in front of you instead. A loud grunt catches your attention. You can barely meet his eyes as your brain is too busy being embarrassed by what Wade had said.

"You can sit on my lap angel cakes." Wade pats his leg but gets shoved to the side as his new friend sits down across from you.

"Logan this is my friend, be a good kitty and play nice." Logan rolls his eyes and chooses to ignore Wade. He does look at you though, burning a whole through your skull.

"Hi Logan," You say shyly.

"Hi." A few beats of silence pass until Wade breaks it as usual.

"Well aren't you two the life of the party, if you excuse me I have to go relieve myself." Wade stands up and instead of asking Logan to move, starts to climb over the man.

"What the fuck?!" Logan hisses as he grabs Wades shirt and tosses him to the ground. You can't help the laugh that escapes your mouth as your friend flops to the ground.

"So rude." Wade shakes his head and heads off to the bathroom. Silence falls once again as you awkwardly push around the pancakes on your plate.

"What's that?" Logan asks, nodding towards your sketchbook. You grab your book and shove it into your bag.

"Nothing! It's uh, just a sketchbook it's nothing don't worry about it." Logan raises an eyebrow as you panic in front of him.

As if you couldn't feel more embarrassed. You debate on waiting for wade or just leaving to save yourself but Logan makes the choice for you.

"You don't have to stay, not holding you hostage." He sips his coffee as you let out a shaky laugh.

"Not much of a talker." You play with your fork as you look up at Logan. He's much more handsome up close.

"Neither am I." He offers a small half smile and you return it. He's still incredibly intimidating but maybe you can stick it out a little longer. Logan's food comes and the two of you eat in a comfortable silence and when you're done you work up the courage if he'll be here tomorrow. He holds the door open for you as you step outside.

You clutch tightly onto the strap of your bag as you wait for his answer. He lights a cigar and you try and suppress your smile when he says he will be. As you part ways you realize that Wade never did come back from the bathroom.

That sneaky bastard.

-on

The diner uh, meetings as you called them, with Logan were amazing. His grumpy exterior was hard to crack but eventually the two of you started to become friends. Being with Logan started to become your favorite parts of the week. He was more than the tough guy persona he put on. What surprised you the most is that he seemed interested in you too. Well you know as friends.

Logan could appreciate someone who liked the quiet. He never pushed you out of your comfort zone, never made you feel uncomfortable. He was just Logan. Call it what you want but it was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels for that man. Not that you'd ever tell him.

How could you?

He's a superhero. He's gorgeous and grumpy and funny and so much more. All you do is draw silly pictures. So for now you settle on friends. Even if he makes your stomach turn with ever smile. Even if his laugh is the best thing you've ever heard. Friends. That's good enough for now.

-

"Wade Wilson I am going to kill you!" You say angrily.

He had texted you asking you to meet him for coffee and you had agreed solely because you never got the chance to scold him for his little dine and dash.

"Leaving me alone with a stranger!" You slap his hand as he tries to reach for your pastry.

"Ow! That was so five months ago! Anyways I was just trying to help. You know, relieve the sexual tension." You gasp as he makes a very lewd gesture with his hands.

"Besides, you and Logi bear are spending a lot of time together for just being friends huh Boo-Boo." Before you can stop him he reaches for your sketchbook. Keeping it just out of reach as he flips through the pages.

"Give it back!" You plead as you reach across the table.

"Oh. My. God. How come you never draw me this sexy?" He shows you the pages and you fall back into your seat in defeat.

You know what's in there and now Wade does too. Pages and pages of sketches of Logan. You feel like a stalker. It's not your fault! Ever since you met him he's all you can think about. All you can draw.

"Please give it back." You beg but he refuses.

"You'll get it back after you admit to Logan how you feel."

"What!" Your jaw drops as you make another lunge for your book.

"I am a very impatient man and I'm not about to wait another thousand words for the two of you to fuck." He stands up and tucks the book down his pants.

"Ew really?" You groan as you let your face fall into your hands.

"I'm having a get together and you're invited. Logan will be there it's the perfect opportunity." You feel like throwing up at the idea of talking to Logan about any of this.

Maybe you could just steal it back tonight. Or maybe you could never show your face to anyone ever again. Yah the second option sounds better. If only it was that simple. You waited for many anxiety filled hours, the only thing on your mind is getting your damn book back. You knock on the door and it swings open with Wade standing there, a stupid smile on his face.

"Honey badger at 4 o'clock." He hands you a drink and pushes you right towards him. You shoo him away, taking a deep breath and head towards Logan.

"Hi Logan," You say nervously.

"Didn't think these were really your thing." He says with a smile. You laugh nervously and nod your head.

"Yeah well...I thought he'd finally stop asking if I came to one of these things." You joke. Logan snorts and offers you the seat next to him.

"Good luck with that." You sit next to him and swirl around the ice in your drink.

If you're going to tell him then you're going to need a lot of help. Logan's eyes widen as you down your drink in one go, making a face before asking for another one. He's never seen you at a party, let alone drink.

"Why don't you take it easy there sketch."

"It's a party right, why not have a little fun." Logan keeps an eye on you as you drink and drink. As the night passes on he realizes that you might have had a little too much. You can barely get a sentence out by the time the party's over.

"Hi Logii!" Your arms slink around his neck as you stumble into him.

"Come on, let me take you home." He chuckles as he helps you to the door.

"Nooo, I needa get my uh..." You stop and think for a moment.

"My uhhh" Logan hums as he helps you to your apartment. You stay close to Logan as you walk through the night. He's just so warm and he smells so good.

"Got your keys?" You pat around for them and frown. Logan reaches into your bag and pulls them out.

"Right here." He unlocks your door and helps you to your bed. You sigh as your head hits your pillow.

"Oh! my sketchbook. Wade has my sketchbook." You say with a yawn.

"I'll get it back tomorrow, now sleep well." Logan takes off his jacket and lays it on you. He brushes your cheek gently. A soft smile on his face as he leaves you to sleep peacefully.

"Good night."

-

God your head hurt and the sun was way too bright. You crack your eyes open groan as you head pounds. What were you even thinking last night? You wanted your damn book back that's what you were thinking. A loud knock on your door makes you moan in pain. Getting up you swing open your door only to be met with Logan holding your book. Your face pales as you see a smirk on his face.

"Wade gave me back your book." You reach out for it but he holds it back.

"You're a real good artist sketch." To your horror he opens up your book and flips to one of its pages.

Right in front of you was a side profile sketch of Logan. It had been while you were at the park or something. The sun was hitting him perfectly, he had this content look on his face. You couldn't help but draw it when you got back home. To capture him in a moment where everything felt okay.

"I uh..I.." You don't know what to say. He caught you red handed. Your face is on fire from shame and embarrassment as he finally hands over your book. You can't even look at him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. Shutting your eyes you hope he gets the hint and leaves, leaves you to wallow in pity.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry." He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"I'm flattered sketch. I think you really captured me pretty good." You still can't bring yourself to say anything as you hug your book tightly. You can't tell if he's making fun of you or what.

"This isn't funny Logan." You try and push his hand off you but his grip is strong.

"Not trying to be funny." He brushes his thumb over your lips.

"Logan..." Your eyes flick down to his lips and you know he catches you.

"Say it, come on don't be shy. Not with me." Sighing you dig your fingernails into your book.

"I love you." Your voice is barely above a whisper, eyes squeezing shut. You almost hope he doesn't hear it but of course he does.

He presses his lips to yours roughly. You drop your book in shock as you melt deep into his kiss. Wasting no time in kissing him back, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He deepens the kiss as his hands fall to your sides. You pull away much to his disappointment, his lips chasing after yours for a moment.

"I love you too." He kisses your jaw lightly making you sigh.

"You know, those drawings were good but I think you got my lips wrong." You furrow you eyebrows, you thought you got his lips pretty good. After all you stared at them long enough to memorize them.

"Yeah sweetheart, think you need a lesson." He walks you back until you hit your couch.

"Get up close and personal." He winks as you bite your lip. How flustered can he make you?

"Then maybe you can show me more of those drawings."

Well, If it would help make your drawings more, accurate. Then who are you to say no?

"Okay." You run your hands along his arm as you look back up at him. Nerves and excitement swirling around your eyes.

"Don't worry sketch, I'm a pretty good teacher."

[vbecker10]

The Night Nurse (Part 2)

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 (in progress)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You are the newly appointed night nurse for SHIELD and you couldn't be less excited about it. You have been given the side task of finding out who is stealing supplies from the infirmary. Soon after you start, you learn Loki is the one who has been slipping in at night to patch up his wounds and you confront him about why he can't heal as quickly as Thor. He reveals a dangerous secret he is keeping from the team and you worry increasingly for his safety as the two of you become closer over the next few weeks.

Warning: You asked for angst so I shall give you angst lol but also... some mentions of blood, minor injuries needing stitches, Loki generally feeling alone and isolated, arguing between you and Loki, very brief mentions of Loki's torture, Loki being an ass in the beginning, swearing, a pretty major injury towards the end but no one dies... a romantic ending was requested so of course there will be fluff and cuteness and whatnot

"There is something wrong with my magic," he tells you and your heart sinks. "It has been fading since I was taken by the Mind Stone."

"Wait... I thought they severed ties between you and the Mind Stone," you say in disbelief. "That was almost six months ago."

"They released me from the hold it had over me, yes," he says. He shifts uncomfortably on the exam table and you roll the stool you are sitting on closer to him.

You take his hand and he looks at you, "But its still affecting you?"

"I'm unsure how to describe it," he admits and you sit quietly, waiting for him to gather his thoughts. "Sometimes it feels as if the stone took a part of me when they removed it. Sometimes it feels like there may be a small piece of it that they somehow left behind," he pauses noticing the concered look on your face. "The majority of the time, thankfully, I feel completely myself."

You squeeze his hand, "I'm sorry Loki, this must be a horrible thing to deal with alone." He shrugs but you can almost see the weight on his shoulders. "You should to talk to someone. You can't keep all of this to yourself, it's too much."

"Can I talk to you?" he asks hopefully.

You smile, "Of course."

"And you cannot discuss what I tell you?" he checks again.

"Anything we talk about will stay between us," you promise him. "That's what friends do, right?" Wait, are we friends now? you think.

"Thank you," he nods with a smile then adds, "Would it be okay if we didn't talk about this any more tonight though?"

"Sure," you answer, afraid to push him further. You get up and roll the stool back to where it belongs. I'm glad he finally started talking to me, he really is dealing with so much, you think. He's going to get hurt if he keeps doing this, though. He needs to tell Thor or-

"I have told you, I cannot talk to Thor about this," he says suddenly as he gets up from the table.

"I didn't say-" you pause and turn to face him. "Did you seriously read my mind again?"

"Your thoughts are very loud," he replies as if that's an excuse.

"I don't even know what that means, but you can't keep doing that. It makes me feel like I can't trust you," you tell him crossing your arms. "And you should talk to someone, you could-"

"I had hoped to continue talking to you," he cuts you off, "But clearly that was a mistake."

"No, it wasn't a mistake," you follow him out of the room. "Loki, stop," you try to get his attention but he keeps walking away from you. "Listen to me, I'm worried about you getting hurt or worse. You can't keep going out into the field or even training with Thor if we don't find-"

"There is no 'we'!" he turns to face you quickly and you come to an abrupt stop. "It is my magic that is breaking, that is fading away and I need to figure it out on my own."

"Why?" you ask, becoming angry with him for his dramatic attitude shift. "Why can't I even try to help?"

"You are not even a full healer," he says in a harsh tone and you know he is referring to you being a nurse instead of a doctor. "You know nothing of my magic or of me. How could you possibly think you would be able to help?" he asks but he leaves you no space to respond. "And you do not need to concern yourself with my safety any longer."

"Wait, please," you reach for his arm but he vanishes before you are able to touch him.

The next night you sit cross legged on the floor trying to count packets of cotton balls as you take them from one box and put them in another. You pause, suddenly feeling as if someone is in the room with you.

"Y/N," Loki says in a quiet voice and you knock over one of the almost full boxes. You turn quickly to see Loki standing behind you.

You sigh and begin reaching for the packets, "If you need medical attention I will be with you in a minute. If you are here to yell at me again or tell me I'm useless, I'm busy. I don't have the energy to fight with you today."

"What if I am here to apologize?" he asks.

You look up at him and he tries to smile but you shake your head. "You can't keep being a dick and then acting like you're sorry. Maybe that's how it works on Asgard cause you're a prince but you don't get to treat me like crap and expect me to forgive you."

"I know," he says. He sits on the floor next to you, much to your surprise and begins to hand you the packages you can't reach. "I am truly sorry for last night, you did not deserve that. I know I can be a... a dick, was it?," he asks, trying to hold eye contact with you.

You nod and try not to let how upset he looks affect you.

"Hmm, I think that's the first time I've ever been called that," he says as if he is honestly thinking about it.

"To your face maybe," you shrug and he chuckles.

"That is probably accurate," he agrees but you don't respond. He nods, looking down at the floor as he becomes more serious. "Y/N, I shouldn't have lost my temper with you, I promise I will not do it again. I know you are only trying to help me and I greatly appreciate your concern although I am aware that I do not deserve it, especially not now."

You look down as well, fidgeting with the cotton ball packet in your hand. I want to forgive him but how can I be sure this isn't just his pattern? Is he going to continue to snap at me for no reason then apologize after? I want to help him and I'm so worried about him but I can't deal with that, you think.

"I understand if you don't wish to speak with me any longer," he says and you aren't sure if he read your mind or not. "But you were right. I do need someone and to be honest, I think I could benefit greatly from someone who tells me when I'm being a dick." He pauses then smile a bit, "That is such a dull insult don't you think?"

You can't help but laugh, "I wasn't really worried about being creative. It was more about getting my point across."

"It was a point well made," he agrees.

"If it helps," you say and he looks up at you hopefully. "I promise to call you something way harsher if you ever yell me again."

"I swear," he takes your hand, "I will not do that again." You nod at his words, allowing yourself to believe him.

He shakes his head, "It was not you I was upset with yesterday, I am upset with myself. Truthfully, I'm worried that I am not smart enough to figure any of this out and no one here understands magic. I'm afraid my magic will continue to fade or become more unstable over time and then I will be... I don't know who I will be without it."

"You'll still be annoying," you say without thinking and immediately regret it. He sighs and moves to get up from the floor but you reach for his arm, pulling him gently back down. "I'm sorry, my mouth is faster then my brain sometimes," you apologize. "I didn't mean that."

"You did," he says. "And it is okay. You are not the first person to find me difficult to deal with."

"You're not completely awful," you tell him with a smile. "And that's as much of a compliment as you're gonna get today."

"Well thank you," he laughs. "I'll take it."

"Good," you respond then stand up and he stands with you, "Cause I've got a lot of work to do and feeding your ego isn't on the list." You pick up your tablet and quickly log in the count on the cotton ball packets before you can forget how many there are.

"Are you really counting everything in here?" he asks looking into the open supply cabinet.

"Yep," you turn to him and put your hands on your hips. "Because someone was stealing supplies, remember?"

"Ah, right," he nods and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I am sorry about that."

"It's okay," you shrug. "At least I'll get to read when I'm done... so long as you don't hurt yourself in the meantime."

"I think I can manage that," Loki says. After a moment of watching you slowly gather all of the gauze onto a nearby table he asks, "Would you like some help?"

You look at him shocked, "Really? It's pretty boring."

"It's the least I could do seeing as how this is my fault," he reminds you and you decide to take him up on his offer.

The following night, you set your coffee on your desk and begin your paperwork. About twenty minutes later, you are almost finished and Loki knocks on your office door.

"Hello Y/N," he says with a smile and you can't help but feel excited to see him. "Before you ask, I am pleased to report I am all in one piece."

You laugh, "That's good to hear Loki. So what brings you to my super exciting corner of the Tower?"

"These," he conjures a small bouquet of flowers and your mouth falls open in shock.

"They are beautiful," you tell him as you get up slowly and he walks towards you.

"I hoped you would like them," he smiles nervously.

"I love them," you take them from him, smelling the brightly colored petals.

This is why he asked me what my favorite flowers are? This is insane, the first man who has ever surprised me flowers is a literal prince, you think. A really hot prince. Oh my god stop thinking that he's hot, he's literally right here, he can probably hear you, you look up from the flowers to Loki and he chuckles.

"Did you read my mind again?" you ask him, your smile fading quickly at the invasion of your privacy.

"I'm sorry," his smile drops and he takes a step backwards. "I honestly do not mean to. I've told you, you think loudly."

"You keep saying that but I have no idea what that means," you say, the confusion evident in your tone. "Its not like I'm screaming my thoughts."

"That's not what I mean... I typically need to focus to hear what someone is thinking and even then it is not always coherent or a complete thought. Since the Mind Stone, however, I have had less control over my telekinesis much like my other magic. It comes suddenly, a person's thoughts will simply appear fully formed in my mind, as clearly as you are speaking now," he says. "This happens more often with you than anyone else in the Tower for some reason. Sometimes, I don't even realize you didn't say it out loud until you are upset with me."

"Oh..." you pause, having not expected him to be doing it by accident. "I guess just... try to stop doing it or I'll have to think of some more really annoying songs."

"Please don't," he chuckles. "It took me three days to get the chewing gum song out my head."

You laugh, "That's what you get for being in my brain."

"It is a very strange place," he jokes.

"You have no idea, so stay out," you smile and open one of the storage closets try to find a vase for the flowers.

"I will do my best," he promises as he conjures a crystal vase on your desk. You set the flowers in the vase and add a bit of water then Loki asks, "Would you like help with inventory tonight?"

"I need to finish this paperwork first but that would be really great actually," you answer and pull out your chair again. He sits down across from you with a smile. "Last night was a lot of fun," you tell him. "I was really hoping you were going to come back tonight so we could talk more."

"I can come every night if to would like," he offers.

"I would love that," you answer then look down at your tablet quickly, hoping he didn't see you blush at his charming smile. I hate when he's cute, you think.

"No you don't," Loki says with a smirk.

"It has been ten seconds," you roll your eyes at him.

"Sorry," he mumbles and you shake your head then begin to hum. "Norns, the gum song again, really?"

"I told you this would happen," you laugh then continue to hum until you finish your paperwork.

Where is he? you think as you pace nervously back and forth in the infirmary. Loki had come every night this week, as promised but he is later than usual tonight. What is really concerning you is not so much his timing, it's the fact that he went on a mission today.

You had heard from the nurses who were ending their shift when you arrived that there had been a large explosion at the Hydra base Loki and the others were sent to. You need him to come so he can tell you he is okay and that you are worried for no reason but every second that passes makes you more and more anxious.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[bitchimasnake-sss]

"remember that time when-" ft. r.zoro!

ft. zoro x fem!reader

set-up: you're pms-ing and this man is your greatest friend and even greater enemy rn (but you know you love him); drabbles to soothe your delusional soul <3

warnings: none! very wholesome lol

-contrary to popular belief, this man actually knows what periods are (wow, the bare minimum!!!) - when he was younger, he had listened to kuina go on about being a woman and its disadvantages and all and i believe he thought she was talking smack (i mean at the end of the day, "a swordsman is just a swordsman") - so when 15 year old zoro stumbled across a library, he decided to waltz in and just pick up a random biology book to understand female anatomy (it happened one after the other, completely unplanned) - when i tell you his little fifteen year old pea-sized brain was blown away (he learnt way more than he probably should have) - (please i beg u he can read, trust me 😭😭) - but just because he knows its a thing doesn't mean he understands it. so, yeah, he actually does know what it is, he simply does not care - in his logic, he had bled multiple times and still always bounces back so like what's the big deal??? "what's the big deal? it's just blood" he's sipping on a bottle of sake, gulping down its remnants in a single breath when you had complained about cramps one evening "excuse me?" nami is ready to strike him down "i said its just blood" - nami did, infact, then strike him down - post-dating zoro still thinks its no biggie "oi, yn" he's poking your shoulder, "what's wrong?" "cramps" you grumble against the pillow he laughs, "ah, they'll go away, get up and get going now. don't sulk around, you're my fav ketchup packet" "tf did you just say?" "ketchup packet?" - you refused to talk to this man for the next two days - at the end of the second day, he had to write a formal apology (with chopper's help) and speak it out loud before you started entertaining his bullshit again - see the thing is this mf is reserved, superhuman and has an absurdly high pain tolerance so it's hard for him to sympathize exactly - he once caught you crying cause you had seen a mama chimpanzee kiss it's baby chimpanzee and hug it tightly and he will forever bring it up "zoro you remember that time you got lost in dru-" "yn, remember that time, we were passing through a jungle and you saw some chimp-" he ended up getting a sucker punch to the face he deserved it. - but just because words aren't his thing doesn't mean he isn't looking out for you - everytime you're laying there on the bed, unmoving, he'd wordlessly crawl into the bed next to you. he's give you a gentle back massage or start rubbing soothing patterns onto your belly "you want something?" he mumbles slowly, hands skimming softly over your waist - this man would not and i repeat absolutely would not allow you to do any physically demanding work though "hey, let me handle that" "zoro, i am not a child!" "you sure look like one to me." he snickers, "remember the time you saw that mom chimpan-" "zORO FUCK OFF!!" - you need something from the top shelf? he got it. you are helping ussop carry gunpowder from the storage? go sit down, your boyfriend's got it - does it sometime frustrate you? yes - does the crew use this opportunity to make his lazy ass do a fuck lot of chores? also yes - he will still 100% make ketchup jokes (he's gross like that) - but name one man who'll treat you more gently than this bozo, i dare you - it might be something as lame as a period, doesn't mean he woudn't go to the end of the world to make you feel slightly better (even if he teases you about it endlessly)

sanji's part <3 luff's part <3

[shepherds-of-haven]

Hiya! Sorry to bother, I really love SoH and I'm sure you hear this all the time but your writing is so amazing I can't help but come back and reread what's available just for fun! ♥

I have a small wonder, My main MC is going for exRed romance just full steam no eyes for anyone else and it's been a fun ride to watch them be so affectionate yet hesitant I gotta wonder though what the rest of the gang thinks having to watch their ridiculous dance? (I fully believe chase has a betting pool for when they get together.)

In Red's case, I think he's naturally affectionate/subtle/socially-mindful enough to not come off as stupidly over-the-top with his feelings in a really obvious or public way; because he's proceeding cautiously with an ex-MC and deliberately "feeling things out" without wanting to make them uncomfortable/make a fool out of himself, I don't think it'd be as obvious to others what's going on between him and MC unless they went to school with them both and witnessed the history there? (AKA Pan, Neon, etc.). For everyone else, it's:

Blade: literally doesn't think anything of it (unless he's also romantically interested in MC)--from his perspective, Red is equally friendly/comfortable/flirtatious with pretty much everyone, plus it would make sense that their being old friends/former lovers would come with certain closeness. In other words, he's not thinking about it

Trouble: took Red and MC at their word and just thinks they dated when they were teens, does not notice anything remarkable going on between them, but he can be naturally a bit dense in that area (though sometimes he isn't)

Tallys: oh my god just hook up already, the tension is starting to get under her skin lol she's of the camp that they should just jump each other and get it over with

Shery: she's 👀 and watching with bated breath, and subtly concocting excuses for them to be together, like "oh MC I needed to deliver a message to Red in his lab, but I'm "busy", could you please let him know so-and-so while I go do this other thing?"

Riel: he's actually broached the topic with Red before out of curiosity because the romantic tension was sooooo obvious to him: it was a really brief conversation because Red was caught so off-guard by Riel going "so are you going to tell MC you still have feelings for them/do you want to try things again?" that he just sort of looked at Riel blankly, but they sort of fumbled their way through a conversation where Red was sort of airing his thoughts/asking for advice and Riel was just like clinically listening?? and then they never talked about it again, lol. It's not like Riel ships them, he was just interested in what was going through Red's head at the time, and now he doesn't really care anymore, whatever happens is between them! but now and again Red will look up from subtle flirting with MC, catch Riel's eye, and Riel will have this unimpressed face like 🙄

Chase: gleefully has a (private) betting pool and trolls Red/the two of them as often as he possibly can without entering the zone of over-interference, much like an ecologist trying to observe a rare animal without over-affecting its natural behavior

Ayla: she notices if she's romantically interested in MC, but otherwise shelves their behavior as "things exes/old friends must do, which I wouldn't have any personal experience with, so I guess that makes sense to me" and doesn't give much romantic significance to the way they act around each other, that just must be how it is! 🤷🏻‍♀️ She'd be really surprised if someone like Lavinet was like, "Oh, darling, they are obviously still mad about each other..." Ayla: "oh, I just thought their whole thing was how all former lovers who stayed friends acted." Lavinet and Briony: noooooo

Briony: she is peak shipper for ex!Red and MC, she picks up on things right away and is watching both of them with her ponytail whipping back and forth like she's at a tennis match 👀, she's squealing and swooning internally every time they smile over a book together and is like barely keeping things together out of respect to them...

Lavinet: she's amused and intrigued by what's going on, ex-lovers who reunite years later is so inherently romantic, it's like something out of a drama!!! She's smirking and making sly comments here and there to sort of nudge things along now and then, but otherwise she subscribes to the "leave no trace" observing from a distance mentality rather than an active interference (unless her interference is specifically requested, in which case she's all hands on deck)!

Halek: didn't even realize they're exes, I think because no one told him or he wasn't paying attention, he just thinks they're Like That (as in, they want to bang each other, obviously, he just figures they're dragging their feet about it because they work together or something)

[bobbydagen24]

Trolls overall has a Big problem with the idea of Holding people accountable for their actions.

here's a numbered list of examples of what I'm talking about.

Cloud Guy in the Tv shows not only because he Harasses Branch most of the time with no consequences but also because Poppy goes out of her way to defend him even when his actions cause trouble for many other people.

like when he flooded the village just out of spite because Branch wouldn't do what he wanted anymore and not to mention how even when she found out that he also Harassed other people from each of the Troll Tribes she still took his side and got mad at them when they stood up for themselves and "" upset Cloud Guy "".

which even if it hadn't been revealed that it was all an act by him just to mess with them it would still make Poppy look bad since she Refused to do anything about his Blatant Bullying yet got mad at his victims when they stood up for themselves.

and not to mention made excuses for why his behaviour wasn't so bad making out like he only Harassed them because he was trying to help them which is just all kinds of wrong.

2. a lesser example but still a bad example imo is in the Trollstopia episode where Dante uses Branch as his muse and he stalks him breaks into his home and disrupts his daily Jobs which he does.

and when he goes to Poppy for help she makes out like Dante's behaviour is reasonable and tells Branch to suck it up.

and after Branch does something to get Dante to back off Poppy then gets mad at him when Dante isn't able to come up with any music ideas like that's somehow Branch's problem?

Dante needed help but Rather than ask for it he just went ahead and took it by invading someone's privacy.

and breaching their trust and then Poppy made out like Branch was wrong for setting down Boundaries with him which is just iffy to be honest feels like this episode was written by Joe Goldberg or something lol.

3. and there's Creek as I've said in the past I love him lol but I do agree that his Return in TBGO could have been done better where he could have had a little arc of slowly earning back people's trust maybe over the span of a few episodes.

4. some people like to go on about the Bergens being forgiven too easily and I agree to an extent but given how Gristle Jr couldn't exactly punish the majority of the population I don't think they really had much choice in this matter.

I feel the only problem is them acting all chummy with the rest of the Bergens like letting them off for killing their species is one thing but acting like friends with them is a whole other like staying friends with Bridget and Gristle is fine given their history and the fact that they were too young to have eaten any Trolls prior to the escape.

but acting friendly with the rest of them feels a tad insensitive like in the opening of TBT we see Branch and Poppy acting all chummy with Random Bergens and Branch even High fives a couple of them and I was just thinking to myself

"" dude they probably ate someone's loved ones in the past how would you feel if you saw other Trolls giving Chef a friendly High five? ""

5. anyway moving on there's Barb who enslaved countless people destroyed their homes and tried to wipe out all other kinds of music and she was let off in the end.

its not even like she had a last minute change of heart she literally just got beaten and that's the only reason why her plan didn't succeed and afterwards she was just instantly forgiven.

6. Bro zone I've already talked about them in Depth in the past but yeah unreliable selfish insensitive and at worst cruel not to mention they never truly change their ways.

they keep on doing the same crappy behaviour and they don't show that much remorse for their past actions yet they still get forgiven in the end Despite everything.

because yaaaay family is amazing even if they Treat you like shit over and over again.

the films message feels like it was written by a toxic parent to please other toxic parents to be honest which judging by how this film won over general audiences I'd say it worked like a Treat lol.

so yeah Despite my love for it Trolls overall as a franchise has a serous problem with actually Holding people accountable for their crappy actions and Behaviours I feel the only exception is Veneer as even tho his turn at the end felt Rushed and out of nowhere imo.

I was pleasantly surprised that the movie didn't just let him off the Hook and he still got arrested and accepted the punishment for his crimes in the end.

I feel the same thing should have happened with Barb given everything she did.

anyway if you've made it to the end of my post thank you you have the patience of a saint lol anyway what do you think about this aspect of the franchise?

[shinestarhwaa]

okay babes for the prompts i got something i think you’d really like🤭

wooyoungie with 2, 3, 17, 22, 25 + 26, 30, 45, + 52, 68

i hope its not too much though

Girl you're such a freak LOL, so many of them :0

^^ this is me pretending to be shocked. I narrowed it down to one line (I used line 30) since they can only be used once but I used similar ones instead for the others! X

anyway, I hope u enjoy it babes

YOU&ME || JUNG WOOYOUNG

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Wooyoung x Fem reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Tags/Warnings: Friends to lovers AU, Non-Idol AU, biting kink, marking, hairpulling, lingerie kink, overstimulation, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), doggy style, missionary, namecalling (slut, whore, but its loving rlly <3), squirting, unprotected sex

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123

ENJOY!

"I'm just saying, I'm pretty good as sex. I give you orgasms, you know," Wooyoung grinned. You threw your head back as you laughed, hair falling back.

Wooyoung watched your every move, feeling mesmerized by the way you looked. You knew Wooyoung had a thing for you by the way he always flirted with you and looked at you, but you always told him to just be friends. You knew there was no harm intended in his flirtations, so you let him.

Yet tonight the chocolate strawberries and the champagne started to sound like "I want you to fuck me all day, like every day."

"Excuse me?" He muttered. You gasped and covered your mouth. You did not just say that out loud. "Well, well, well, so that means you're finally giving in, Y/N?" "N-no, I just-"

His finger rested against your lips, shushing you. "You're not getting out of this one, Y/N, if you want me to fuck you all day long, every day, I'll be glad to do so."

Seconds later you were stumbling through his apartment, hands and lips everywhere. Suddenly he was like all you ever needed; you were a bee addicted to his nectar; the way his lips tasted drove you crazy. There was still a hint of the rich chocolate and fresh strawberry on his tongue.

''Feel what you are doing to me,'' he grunted out against your lips as he took your hand and made you palm the growing erection in his jeans. You moaned into his mouth as you kissed him again. Clothes flew off left and right and soon enough the both of you were half naked, standing in front of each other.

Wooyoung licked his lips as he looked at you in your red lingerie and many filthy thoughts played his mind. ''I cannot wait to fucking taste you, I want you coming all over my face,'' Wooyoung panted as he kissed your neck and collarbones, biting your skin. You winced and dug your nails into the flesh on his hips. ''Fuck, Wooyoung,'' you moaned. "You sound so hot moaning my name baby," he grunted.

He kissed your chest, the exposed part of your breast above your bra, biting down on it again, leaving a darkred mark. ''Fuck, bite me baby,'' you moaned as he got on his knees, facing your soft thighs. He left marks over your thighs, just biting down on them, nibbling slightly every now and then. "Is that a tattoo?" "Now's not the time Wooyoung, fuck, get a move on it."

Wooyoung got up again and removed his underwear His hard cock was nearly leaking with how horny he was, the tip red and angry. It was bigger than you would've expected it to be. You would be lying if you said you hadn't ever thought about it before, what would be inside his pants and now it was right in front of you.

His length was big, veiny and somehow gorgeous, something you had never expected yourself to think about a penis. You expected him to grab you and make you suck him off (you wanted to tho) but he laid on the bed and gestured you to come to him.

"Come on princess, I want you to sit on my face."

Your heart nearly stopped beating as he said that but you didn't waste another second. You took off your lingerie and got on top of him, hovering your wet pussy above his face.

''When I tell you to sit on my face, I do not mean hover. Sit the fuck down,'' Wooyoung complained from underneath you. His hands grabbed the flesh of your thighs and he pulled you closer to him. You didn't let yourself go for 100% but you relaxed as you felt his tongue slide through your slit.

You moaned out his name as his tongue zigzagged through your folds and circled around your clit, collecting all your wetness. Wooyoung fucked you with his tongue, reaching sweet spots inside you that you didn't know you even had. He licked your clit and sucked on it roughly, earning loud moans from you.

In a matter of minutes your body was trembling, coming undone on Wooyoung's tongue. He rode out your orgasm and he laid you down gently as you came down from your high.

"You're such a dirty whore, aren't you? You came pretty quickly." A blush creeped up on your cheeks as you watched him smirk at you. "Only your dirty whore..."

Wooyoungs fingers slid between your thighs, playing with your sensitive clit. "W-Wooyoung!" You moaned out. He bit in your soft skin again, attacking your breasts. "Y-you fucking like that biting thing, huh?" You panted out. He grunted as he kept abusing your clit with his fingers. "Don't fucking kink shame me," he joked.

"You're so wet baby, so slick," he smirked as he pumped 2 fingers into you, "so fucking smooth." You were moaning uncontrollably as he picked up his pace, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as he curled his fingers just right.

"Harder," you moaned out. Wooyoung laughed and smirked, tongue poking into his cheek as he did so. He couldn't get the smirk of his face as he felt your arousal drip down his hand onto the sheets.

"Are you a squirter baby? Is my darling gonna squirt for me?" "Yes! Yes, fuck I can do that for you, Woo, I promise, I'll be good, I'll do it for you!" "Good girl, go ahead then, squirt all over my hand for me angel."

You let go and did as you were told, squirting over Wooyoung's hand as he got you through another orgasm. You panted loudly, trying to recover but Wooyoung never stopped moving his fingers. "You take my fingers so well, don't you babygirl? Look at that, keep on going angel, that's it, fuck, yeah that's it."

You couldn't stop, arousal kept leaking from your abused pussy, body shaking and tears forming in your eyes. "I love the way you look with my fingers inside you, angel."

"P-please I can't anymore!" You cried out, so fucked out from the overstimulation. ''Give me one more baby, one more, cum for me, be a good girl and say thank you,'' Wooyoung smirked as he fucked you hard with his fingers. ''Yes! Yes, thank you thank you thank you-'' you cried out as you felt fireworks in your body and you came so hard you swore you saw stars.

Wooyoung helped you calm down from your sweet relief but he was quick to slide his leaking cock in immediately. "W-Woo!" You whined out as he filled you up completely. You clenched around him as he fucked you hard and rough, hands gripping at your thighs and hips.

"O-oh God, fuck!"

"Such a needy fucking little thing, aren't you?" He grunted as he kept thrusting into you, slowly losing himself in the motion as well. Soon enough you were putty in each other's hands, bodies melting together as the moonlight shone on you, highlighting your beautiful teary eyes.

''Wooyoung it feels so good!''you screamed out as he pounded his hard slick cock into you. ''Yeah, baby, I know, I fucking know, it's so good!''

He suddenly pulled out of you and before you could protest he had you flipped over with your ass up. He slid into your cunt from behind and thrusted hard. "Fuck!" You screamed out.

Wooyoung's hand gathered your hair, turning it into a ponytail and he pulled it, hard, making you scream out his name. He pulled you up against his chest as he pounded into you, one arm around your waist, holding him against your body, the other still pulling your hair back.

"Yes! Pull my hair, pull my fucking hair, make me your slut, fuck, I'm your slut," you cried out.

"Yes you are, my fucking slut, you're my fucking cockslut, taking me so well. And you're gonna cum for me, okay? You're gonna fucking cum for me."

"Yes, Yes I'm cumming, I'm cumming for you! All for you! F-For your cock only!" You moaned loudly. "Good girl, that's it baby, that's it, you and me, you and me," he growled in your ear.

For the last time your body trembled as you came around him, a tear falling down your cheek as the pleasure became too much. Soon enough Wooyoung released inside you too, moaning your name as he did so.

"Good... you're so good," he panted as he laid you down, in his arms. He held you for what felt like an eternity before he spoke up again. "Maybe I'm a bit selfish... but I don't want anyone else to touch you. Only me. Only you and me."

You nodded and caressed his cheek gently. "I love you and me," you smiled. ''Next time you're sucking my cock tho, okay?''

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Reflections on Luna's Intro Chapters

Luna has to be my fav HP girl. I couldn't care less if the other HP girls died (especially Ginny and Hermione) but I just find Luna so adorable and entertaining. Just some book 5 snippets I find interesting.

“What are you talking about?” said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. “There’s room in this one, there’s only Loony Lovegood in here —”

I can't believe there are people so desperate for HP femlash that they pair poor Luna with a bitch like Ginny. I can see where the appeal comes from but no, just no. Why are the female friendships in HP so shallow and nondescript??

She closed the door again, rather pink in the face, and departed. Harry slumped back in his seat and groaned. He would have liked Cho to discover him sitting with a group of very cool people laughing their heads off at a joke he had just told; he would not have chosen to be sitting with Neville and Loony Lovegood, clutching a toad and dripping in Stinksap.

Neville deserves better friends. Neville is so Harry's pity friend. I will never forgive Horrid Harry comparing sweet Neville to Peter Pettigrew.

“She didn’t enjoy it very much,” Luna informed him. “She doesn’t think you treated her very well, because you wouldn’t dance with her. I don’t think I’d have minded,” she added thoughtfully, “I don’t like dancing very much.”

I don't ship Runa but Luna and Ron are so cute together. I wouldn't have minded this ship over Romione. At least Luna would not be prone to physically assaulting Ron and underestimating his talents. But I prefer Runa as a sibling relationship.

“Anything good in there?” asked Ron as Harry closed the magazine. “Of course not,” said Hermione scathingly, before Harry could answer, “The Quibbler’s rubbish, everyone knows that.” “Excuse me,” said Luna; her voice had suddenly lost its dreamy quality. “My father’s the editor.” “I — oh,” said Hermione, looking embarrassed. “Well . . . it’s got some interesting . . . I mean, it’s quite . . .” “I’ll have it back, thank you,” said Luna coldly, and leaning forward she snatched it out of Harry’s hands. Rifling through it to page fifty-seven, she turned it resolutely upside down again and disappeared behind it, just as the compartment door opened for the third time.

I love how Hermione is the only person Luna is cold towards. That's my girl!

“Yeah,” said Harry, “but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone.” Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville laughed. Malfoy’s lip curled.

Druna crumbs! Luna is the only person who did not laugh. Maybe because she is the only one with good enough humor to recognize a lame joke. You can do better than that Harry!

“Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?” asked Ginny. “What’s she doing back here? Hagrid can’t have left, can he?” “I’ll be quite glad if he has,” said Luna. “He isn’t a very good teacher, is he?” “Yes, he is!” said Harry, Ron, and Ginny angrily. Harry glared at Hermione; she cleared her throat and quickly said, “Erm . . . yes . . . he’s very good.” “Well, we think he’s a bit of a joke in Ravenclaw,” said Luna, unfazed. “You’ve got a rubbish sense of humor then,” Ron snapped, as the wheels below them creaked into motion. Luna did not seem perturbed by Ron’s rudeness; on the contrary, she simply watched him for a while as though he were a mildly interesting television program.

Oh Luna, I love you! Nice to see everyone outside the golden trio + Ginny are not brain dead Hagrid stans. What idiots.

Oh yes, another instance of Harry intimating Hermione to agree with him about Hagrid. It's so amusing how Hermione can lash out against Ron but Harry can subdue her so easily. Karma for how she treats Ron. It's so sweet! Pro Harmione! Gives me 'Taming the Shrew' vibes. People complain about Draco mistreating Hermione in Dramione when Harmione is right there in canon lol! Harry putting girlboss Hermione in her place haha!

Runa is so cute!

Ron, get yourself out of Hagrid's ass. At least Ron shows more common sense about Hagrid than dim wit Harry.

[dreamwritesimagines]

I think they would see each other again because of Jamie, actually!

Like Logan rescues some mutants that are hell bent on not going to the hospital because the anti mutant sentiment either gets them mistreated or reported so he just gruffly tells the team, "I know a doctor that can help."

And he does. Sure, he hates Jamie, is still pissed off he thought he was hurting Sunshine and still believes Jamie is a predator playing the long game with her (Jamie had not come out to anyone by the time he and Logan met) but he's lived long enough to see a person's motives- and Jamie's reasons for hating were never about him being a mutant.

So that's how Jamie gets kidnapped after his long shift by the cage fighter he was convinced he would never see again. To his credit, he doesn't back down.

"It's you. I thought pest control had handled you already."

"Something like that happened. I need your help."

Jamie goes, because he's a good doctor who took an oath and also because he's sleep deprived- he patches the kids up and ignores the team's stares as he stitches a girl's open wound.

"I didn't know Logan could make friends," Scott says whispers.

Jamie snorts, "I'm not his fucking friend."

(I think this is when Scott decides he likes Dr James, actually.)

"Then how do you-"

"Mind your business," Logan gruffs.

When it's the last kid being reviewed, Logan has finally worked up the nerve to ask. "How is she?"

Jamie clenches his jaw. "Fine."

"... I didn't- it wasn't my choice to leave. I didn't want to leave without talking to her first."

"But you did. I always knew that's what you were going to do, i don't care what your excuse is."

"Can you tell her something for me?"

"Cornell. If you want to tell her something say it to her face, otherwise I'd rather not hear it."

"... so is she seeing anyone or-"

"Jesus Christ."

Logan seriously thinks there's no way she isn't already dating someone. And he's kinda right lol

I think he sort of lurks at the edge of her university whenever he comes and goes, maybe hoping to see her again. It's not like the good doctor is very forthcoming about anything regarding her either- the most information Logan has been able to gather whenever Jamie is called in is that she is 1) very successfully going through her veterinary program in a high profile school

2) Has stopped working at the diner Logan used to pretend was convenient and on his way home so he'd have an excuse to talk to her

3) Still wants a cabin in the woods. Logan hears Jamie says this to one of the kids as a distraction while he sets a few bones to their right place. 'a cabin in the woods is like, begging to get murdered' 'that's what I said! Does this hurt?'

I just picture Logan as a very angsty sort of ex (situationship) this dude has not gotten over anything in his life. And Jamie could not give a fuck about his broken heart- he likes most people at the X Mansion; the idea that Charles can read his mind creeps him out so he stays away, he has a soft spot for all the kids he's helped and he would call Scott a friend on a good day- he even comes to respect Logan. He's sweet in a gruff way with the kids and hasn't threatened his life nearly as much as he once did.

And I think Logan is lowkey scared of seeing her again, like one time Jamie's phone was ringing and Logan grabs it because the sound is annoying as fuck but nearly drops it like its hot when he sees it's her name. He can't help it- he picks up just to hear her voice.

"Jamie, thank god. Where are you- Nik is worried sick here and we're gonna be late-"

"It isn't- I'm not Jamie. This is-"

"Logan?"

Darling omg omg I LOVE THIS, YOU'RE AMAZING! ❤️ Thank you so much! ❤️

Adfghjkl Logan not knowing Jamie is gay and convincing himself that he wants to date Sunshine😂

"It's you. I thought pest control had handled you already." I am giggling😂 I love that Jamie hates Logan but in the end they go from enemies to reluctant allies to actual friends, it will be hilarious❤️

Jamie snorts, "I'm not his fucking friend." Oh he would not hesitate😂

Logan has finally worked up the nerve to ask. "How is she?"

Jamie clenches his jaw. "Fine."

"... I didn't- it wasn't my choice to leave. I didn't want to leave without talking to her first." Omg Logan trying to explain himself and HE DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE WITHOUT TALKING TO HER FIRST AND-

This is so good! ❤️ I think like, after he left, he wanted to call her or find her but he convinced himself it was good for her that he was away ❤️

Sunshine got into Cornell?! 🥰

I think he sort of lurks at the edge of her university whenever he comes and goes, maybe hoping to see her again. Oh he would definitely do that! ❤️

Still wants a cabin in the woods aaaaaa Sunshine wanting that cabin in the woods in every universe❤️

I just picture Logan as a very angsty sort of ex (situationship) this dude has not gotten over anything in his life. FACTS! 🥰

Oh Sunshine would definitely hang up on him because of the sudden panic 😂❤️ And that would lead him to go show up at the campus to talk to her, and the minute she saw him and walked up to him, Logan would be like,

"I'm sorry."

"Strong start there."

"And congratulations. Cornell is very-"

"How long has Jamie known about you being around? Like, what are you, friends now?"

"Not at all."

"But you picked up his phone."

"No we...we work together sometimes."

"What?"

"It's a long story. Listen, I wanted to let you know before I left-"

"No reason for you to let me know. We weren't together, and you made yourself very clear about how you felt about my silly crush."

"That's not what happened-"

"And apparently you're hanging out with my friend now so..."

"I'm not hanging out with him. He hates me and the feeling is mutual."

"Right."

"I wouldn't have left without telling you if it were up to me."

"And afterwards, you couldn't even be bothered to send a text I guess?"

"It was for your own good."

"Some things don't change I guess."

[wildbluesorbit]

Wounded IIS || JTK

…a continuation of London

18+mndi

paring: Jake!reader(f)

LONDON MASTERLIST

A/N: I hadn’t noticed until later that the last 2k words of Wounded II cut off. It isn’t much but it’s plot so without further ado, here’s the last scene. Please let me know what you think !!

Content Warnings || mentions of a toxic relationship & night terrors, pillow talk, previously said boner lol

Word Count || 2k

– YOU –

His warmth cores against your back and bakes through the rest of your limbs. You readjust to try and let some of the cool night air ventilate between your warming bodies, but Jake only moves with you, tucking you further into him.

“Jake,” you whisper to no one conscious.

He doesn’t budge. You wait for panic to pour into the room. But it never does. The need to squirm away from Jake’s touch never forces itself on you. Instead, you linger, daring to defy your limits.

You melt back into his embrace and keep the tempo of his rhythmic breathing, huffing against the shell of your ear.

In the past year, Jake has thoroughly sunk under your skin, and it finally resonates this whole time you had been missing your best friend.

You turn your head to view the moonlight pouring in through the window, catching Jake’s cheek and nose and relaxed pout. You swear he’s never looked this serene. You almost want to unpack and settle your life here; to pin the moonbeam in its place to see Jake at such a still in the light’s beauty all the time.

That is until he grinds his hips against your backside, revealing his hard-on pressing into your flesh. Again to your surprise, you find yourself pressing into the sensation. For this small second, you allow yourself to enjoy laying with him, especially because you aren’t ready for anything further.

“Jake,” you place your hand over his and squeeze.

He slightly stirs until you whisper his name again. Taking advantage of his new privilege, he cranes his head down to featherly press a pucker against your shoulder, angling his hips to where you aren’t being prodded any longer.

His sleep-coated voice rasps against your skin, “Are you okay? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

You whisper to ease him out of his freshly awoken state, “Why are you back so soon? You aren’t supposed to know I sleep in here.”

“I’ve known since the first time you were home alone,” you feel his sleepy smirk stretch across your skin as he revisits a memory you do not share, “I always find your socks on the floor.”

His answer catches you off guard, “Oh, well thank you for not making me feel bad about it. I thought I was stealthier than that.”

“I thought it was cute,” he yawns, muffled by your shoulder blade.

You slowly pave the subject towards your burning questions, “Did everything go alright on your trip?”

“Yes, we just finished ahead of schedule and I wanted to come home and see you,” he hums against you and squeezes you a bit tighter.

His sweetness suddenly makes you red and ugly with shame, “I’m sorry you came home to that. It must have been unsettling.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he sleepily scolds, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you’re not some scary monster that’s going to shoo me away. You’re dealing with a lot, I get it, but you’re not a lot.”

“Okay,” you don’t say anything further on the subject at the risk of tears.

He then asks just like he always does, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” you dodge and swerve into your inquiries, “Want to talk about your outburst the other night?”

“Not really,” he returns your tone but gives in, “but I suppose we must. I am so so, really, very, terribly sorry. And this is not an excuse, just an explanation. I was very drunk. I didn’t mean a word I said, I was just lashing out.”

“I was never mad at you,” you admit, “just hurt.”

“You have every right to be, I should never have said those things,” you can hear guilt clawing at his every word.

Yet, you can’t help but wonder where the root of his words stemmed, “Are you mad at me, Jake? You know- about all those things you said?”

“No, no, angel,” he is quick to weed that notion from your mind, “I could never be mad at you. I was mad at someone else and I was not in my right mind and you took the brunt of it, I’m so sorry.”

“Josh told me what happened at the bar that night- what that girl said to you,” you feel him physically cringe around you as you confess your knowledge.

“Josh- I swear if his mouth was any bigger he’d be-,” Jake grunts next to your ear.

“No, I’m glad Josh told me,” you come to his twin’s rescue, “he put some things in perspective for me.”

“Well, as much as the sound of my brother ‘putting things in perspective’ for you terrifies me, I didn’t want to tell you and you feel like it was your fault,” Jake counters.

Rightfully so, as you had immediately assigned the blame to yourself.

“Jake do I-,” you hesitate, not sure how to ask without upsetting him, “Does it embarrass you when you show up without- Do I embarrass you?”

“Please, don’t ever feel like you embarrass me,” you swear Jake’s frown and creased brown are audible as he sternly shoots down the theory, “Quite the opposite. I just miss you is all. I miss feeling you by my side. I miss leaning over to tell you stupid thoughts that cross my mind. I miss having you out with everyone and seeing you enjoy yourself and play along with everyone’s antics. I miss looking down in the pit at my shows and seeing you with your hands in the air. I miss you dancing without giving a shit as to what anyone else thinks. I just hate seeing you confined to this house.”

Your first instinct is to be offended but you know he is right. And you don’t want to ever discourage him from being honest with you, especially about what is rattling around in his head.

“And I’m not trying to pressure you because I will be here whenever you are ready,” his voice becomes a small soft thing that urges you to cradle it, “I know we never talk about it but I always think about us.”

“You shouldn’t be waiting for me,” you quip, pricked by guilt at the amount of affection his words harbor for you.

“You speak as if I can look in any other direction, angel,” he muses and laughs through his nose, “The very thought of you sparks electricity.”

“Jake-,” you can’t help but fuss, “you don’t get it. I don’t know when or even if I'll ever be ready. Time is a precious thing. Don’t waste yours on me.”

His fingers absent-mindedly begin to fidget with the hem of your shirt as Jake carefully strings together the articulation of his next thought, “I don't claim to know or even understand what you're going through, I just want to help in any way I can to get you through it. Because you will get through it, that’s why nothing I do for you could ever be a waste. But I need you to completely forget the other night because I promise I am not going to hurt you.”

His last words ring in your ears. You know you are guarded but you hadn’t even registered that’s exactly what you had been doing to him. Brick by brick, you were slowly succeeding to somewhere cold and isolated, trapping yourself in the exact opposite of where you needed to be. You are certain the issue does not lie within a question of trust, Jake is probably the only person you do trust. Yet for a reason that has no name, it's still not enough to let him all the way in.

“Alright, Jake, you know I trust you,” trying not to lead him on, “but I have seen the way your hands twitch in your sleep now. I just don’t think I’m any good to you- to anyone. Not right now. Not like this.”

He runs his fingers up and down your arm,

“Like what?”

Josh’s words come crashing wildly through your head once again. Jake’s faith in you is set in stone. It isn’t a matter of if for him but when you’ll come around. You want more than anything to be by Jake’s side again. After the way Jake has cared for you, all you want is to deliver his faith into his reality.

The only real thing you find yourself coming back to is Jake. He is the only thing you never find yourself fighting to care about in a world losing its color. He is never a chore or a burden. And in such a confusing season, he is the only thing that has constantly held value in your realm.

If trying to overcome for only yourself is not working, maybe you could try facing your fear for a friend. All you ever want to see is Jake happy, and to be the reason for the smile on his face would only help you heal.

“Jake,” you whisper his name, not even sure if you can even form the next words on your breath but already too far into your thought to turn back, “the next time you go out- maybe- I want- I might- I’m going too.”

You can hear him straining to tame his sudden spring of serotonin at the thought, “Are you sure, angel? You have nothing to prove to me.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, Jake,” you proclaim in overconfidence, “I'm more than sure.”

“Well, I’d be more than ecstatic to have you join me,” he fits the crease of his hand into the dip of your waist and squeezes, “but remember, no rush, no pressure.”

“Unless it's a flat party,” you quickly blurt out the stipulation, “I’ve had enough flat parties for a lifetime.”

“Completely understandable,” he nuzzles back into you and yawns, indicating his next wave of dormancy, “I think we’re going bowling later this week. We can abuse our power to rent a few lanes. Should be quiet and secluded. Can’t wait to see you there.”

You can’t help but wonder if you’re making a mistake. This time you presented a seemingly confident front. What if this time you diminish his hope in you? That is if he hadn’t already seen right through your facade.

“Sleep now-,” Jake yawns out fragments, already slurring into slumbering, “I’ll keep you safe.”

You shoo away the swarm of “what ifs” long enough to fall back under a drowsy spell once more as Jake instructed.

pretty please tell me what you think of this little nugget

taglist❤️‍🩹 - @ageofbajabule @alwaysonthemend @anythingforjtk @becinabubblegvf @dancingcarbon @dannys-dream @dayumclarizzel @do-it-jakey-baby @dont-go-home-without-me @edgingthedarkness @fomopheobe @gretasfallingsky @gretavangirlie @gretavanglimmers @gretavangroupie @gvf23 @gvfmarge @hannahrk @heckingfrick @hsfallingsky @imleavingyoufornewyork @kiszkazz @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @jakesguitarsolo @jakesmustache @jakeysbuttsheeks @lipstickitty @livkiszka @lyndz2names @mindastreamofcolours @mountain-in-springtime @mrbrownstne @nina-23-45 @notjordie-gvf @sacredjake @smoking-jakelane @sparrowofthedawnsworld @kiszkas-canvas @takenbythemadness @thewritingbeforesunrise @tommie-gvf @tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @violet-hayes @wetkleenex-gvf @zoe-tally06

[manic-pixie-aquarius]

Soooo I haven't been active on here but here's a snippet of a short story I started writing last month! Idk, lemme know if any of you find it interesting bc I'm thinking of refining it and then putting it on Ao3

It's mostly from Mike's POV but switches to Will's at one point too. Takes place in a theoretical post-s5 Snow Ball? And this is post Mileven breaking up so Mike is reaaaally deep in his pining over Will and the painting hasn't been fully addressed yet bc things just got back to normal and everyone's tryna have fun

Here:

I must look like a sulking idiot sitting here at this empty table while all my friends are having fun, but I can’t bring myself to enjoy the moment, there is still a lot on my mind and I can’t believe everyone is acting like nothing happened. Max and Lucas are dancing together again and after the song ends El comes back to dance with Dustin. 

I feel eyes on me. 

“Don’t feel like dancing?” Will asks me. 

I look up, startled that I didn’t hear him coming. I just nod no. He takes a seat next to me. 

“Me neither” he says with a scoff. 

I smile, maybe for the first time tonight.

“I’m honestly too tired after all that setting up” he continues. 

“It looks nice” I say, taking in my surroundings as if I haven’t done so already multiple times tonight. It does look neat. 

Will smiles.  

“So, what about you? Why are you here? Dustin and Lucas seem to be having fun over-” he looks back to where they were dancing earlier but now Dustin and El are dancing alongside Lucas and Max.  “oh” he says, then gives me a reassuring look, “sorry.” 

I shake my head, “it’s okay.” 

Some girl approaches us and we both look up. 

“Um, excuse me I was wondering if you’d like to dance” she says reaching a hand out flirtatiously towards Will. 

“Oh! Uh, sure” he says, and gets up, and they slow dance to a slow song. 

Hey, if we can solve any problem 

Then why do we lose so many tears? 

Oh and so you go again 

When the leading man appears 

I do another scan of the room and everyone is dancing, some couples kissing, probably for the first time. Jonathan is very reluctantly dancing along to the song because Nancy has forced him to. Ew, romance. I have to focus on something else. I look to the punch table and see Robin and Vickie talking, laughing. Everyone is having a good time, its honestly sickening. I can’t help but look back at Will and suddenly the lack of emotion I’ve been dealing with all day turns into a pit at the center of my stomach as We Belong by Pat Benatar plays. I have to go. I get up and rush through the crowd and push the double door to the gym maybe a little bit too aggressively because some couple on the other side of the door have these offended faces and the guy says, “what the heck?!” and he has bright pink lipstick marks on his face. But then he sees the tears in my eyes and decides to leave it alone. I walk towards the bathroom. 

“Why didn’t you do something?” his girlfriend squeaks. 

“Did you see his face? Probably got rejected. Babe, you know how I feel about that, you rejected me a year before I got these sick guns” he says and flexes. I roll my eyes and then as soon as I get into the men’s bathroom, I cross my arms on the sink and put my head down and start to cry, hoping nobody else is in here. I hear a toilet flush and someone walks out of the stall, great. At least it’ll be a stranger and not one of my friends. 

“Wheeler?” I hear in a familiar voice. Steve. I try to stabilize myself before lifting my head. I look up to him and he says “ohh, shit.” 

To Be Continued...LOL (I have a lot more written and the next part is my favorite because it's Steve giving Mike advice but...you'll have to wait)

[alexendria-rose]

Midnight Rain

Sherlock Holmes X Reader

warnings: NONE, well maybe like slight cussing?

A/n- I actually hate this one, I wanted to write something but my brain isn't working so enjoy my junk lol

Rain, he wanted it comfortable I wanted that pain He wanted a bride I was making my own name Chasing that fame He stayed the same All of me changed like midnight

Y/n sat on her couch thinking of her past, about the one love she let go. Sherlock Holmes. The now famous consulting detective, she didn't know him as the famous detective. She knew him as a teenage boy full of curiosity and life, before he even became a detective, before he became closed off and distant. She didn't know the Sherlock Holmes everyone else did, she knew the boy who loved her, who never wanted to let go. She thought about the first time she met Sherlock.

My town was a wasteland Full of cages, full of fences Pageant queens and big pretenders But for some, it was paradise

Y/n sat alone on the grass as she looked at the other teenagers walking around her hell of a school, now she didn't really miss America and the people, but she loathed more that she had to be the new girl. Especially in a whole new state. She looked next to her seeing girls walking towards her, she smiles widely excited to finally make some new friends.

"Is it true that all Americans are fat?" One of the girl says to her smacking her gum in a most disturbing manner, the other girl laughs.

"I mean look at her, of course its true." She wickedly grins. Y/n heart drops- looking down at the sandwich she was about to take another bite of.

"Wow Alice so original, isn't it true that your parents are divorcing?" A voice speaks up behind her. Y/n looks back seeing a tall boy with curly brown hair and blue eyes. She crinkles her eyebrows wondering why this boy was defending her.

"You freak! this is why nobody likes you." The girl huffs walking away from Y/n and the mysterious boy, the other girls following behind her looking back at the two with disgust on their faces. He looks down at Y/n giving her a small smile before sitting himself down next to her.

"Don't bother with them." He says before sticking his hand out. "Names Sherlock Holmes." Y/n laughs softly grabbing his hand and shaking it.

"Y/n, Y/n L/n." She grins. Sherlock chuckles looking down at her book that was by her side.

"So romance books?" He questions tilting his head with a sly smirk. "No taste for literature I see?" Y/n shakes her head rolling her eyes.

"Romance books are great, have you ever read one?" She questions holding her book tightly against her chest.

"No, I don't touch those books." He says slightly gagging at the way he says 'those books.'

"How about you actually try to read one and come back to me with that." She says grinning, mostly she just wanted an excuse to talk to him again.

"Fine, but I'm telling you. I'm not going to enjoy it." He says standing up from the ground. "I'll see you around Miss L/n."

Y/n sighs standing up from the couch walking towards her book shelf running her finger over the dusted books, she couldn't read books the same. Not after everything that happened between them.

My boy was a montage A slow-motion, love potion Jumping off things in the ocean I broke his heart 'cause he was nice

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain He wanted it comfortable I wanted that pain He wanted a bride I was making my own name Chasing that fame He stayed the same All of me changed like midnight

"What do you mean your going back to America? and just before we go off to college!" Sherlock shouted gripping onto the book he was holding. Y/n's lip wobbled.

"I'm going to college there..." Her voice said with a slight waver to it. She noticed her and sherlock were getting closer, her feelings were getting stronger and she couldn't let herself get hurt, so she picked the furthest college to run away, to never look back.

"And you've decided to not tell me until the week you're supposed to leave?" His eyes piercing into hers, he moves closer to her grabbing her hand with his. "Don't, don't go please."

"I have to Sherlock, I have to leave." She mumbled not daring to look into his eyes. Sherlock notices this placing his hand on her cheek making her look into his eyes.

"Please I love you, god damnit I love you Y/n." He confesses his breathing becoming uneven from the confession lifting off his shoulder. "Please you cannot leave me, you cannot possibly not love me back."

"I don't." She whispers, she did oh god she did, but she couldn't hold him back with all these goals he had in his life. She was going to drag him down, so she did what she had to do. Let him go. Sherlock's heart drops; his eyes widening as he stepped back away from her dropping his hand as he does.

"Your lying." He mutters shaking his head. "Have fun in college Y/n. Just know you're the only girl I will ever love." He throws the book at her feet looking at the cover 'pride and prejudice.' Y/n falls onto her knees picking up the book her tears clouding her eyes.

Y/n picks up the old book, somehow still smelling like him. It engulfed her nostrils, the smell of old books, the smell of Sherlock. She never loved a man like Sherlock Holmes, and now that she was back in London he was all around her. She opens the book for the first time looking at the little writings that Sherlock had made, all for her, her eyes caught the note that was on the first page.

My Dearest Y/n

If you got this book, it means I finally told you.

I've loved you since the first moment you walk through those doors.

Your eyes bright and unaware of your surroundings.

You were the first person I was able to be close to, the first person

that I let into my heart. I cannot wait to see what our life together

ends up to be.

all my love,

Sherlock Holmes.

Y/n hand trembled reading those words on the book, this was all dedicated for her. The boy who didn't love easily, let her in and she ruined it. She ruined it all because of her being scared of holding him back for what he wanted in life. Y/n shakes her head grabbing the coat that was beside her knowing she needed some air.

She walked out of her flat the wind of London hitting her face, the fresh air letting her breath out her thoughts. Y/n started walking keeping her eyes at her feet not letting anyone disrupt her thoughts.

So I peered through a window A deep portal, time travel All the love we unravel And the life I gave away

Sherlock looked out the window letting the violin consume his thoughts. John sat in his chair deep dived into his computer looking for cases for him and Sherlock.

"How about this case?" John pipes up, but Sherlock wasn't paying attention completely ignoring his friend, his mind elsewhere as he continued to stare at the window.

"I'm going out, don't wait for me." Sherlock says setting his violin down on his chair, grabbing his scarf and coat before slipping it on.

"While your out, would you please grab milk?" John says rolling his eyes knowing his friend never grabs anything for the flat.

"Sure sure." He mumbles not even listening to John as he dashed out of the flat.

Sherlock walks out of the main door the air hitting his face. He couldn't stop thinking about her. He thought of her every case he went to, every book he saw, every girl that looked like her. He thought about her. He told himself he would never care for someone like that again, he would shut himself out, he told himself love was a defect so he never fell for someone like that ever again. She was the first person he opened up to, she was the first person that saw Sherlock Holmes as Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock kept his head down as he let his feet take him wherever he wanted, he knew this town from the back of his hand-

"Oh I'm sorry!" The girls voice perks up after bumping into her, Sherlock looks down at what she dropped his heart thumping against his chest 'pride and prejudice.' Sherlock clears his throat getting himself out of his daze, he picks up the book handing it to her. He locks eyes with her; eyes widening at the familiar eyes boring into his. He could never forgot those eyes, the eyes of innocence, the eyes he fell in love with. Y/n heart drops at the sight of him, she reaches for the book her hand shaking as she grabs the book.

"Y/n." Sherlock whispers under his breath, he eyes the book in her hands. Y/n looks at sherlock not knowing what to say, but instead she observed him. His hair was longer, curly and handsome just like it was in high school, his eyes were still bright but more dimmed. "So I see you have the book." Her brain snaps back in reality staring at him.

"Um Hi." Is all she managed to breath out, all the feelings she pushed to the side so long ago came back even harder almost knocking all the air out of her. Sherlock smiles softly.

"So hi is all you have after what happened?" He asks crossing his arms over his chest a smug smile on his face. "Wow I thought you were more intelligent then that." Y/n rolls her eyes pushing her way past Sherlock, but he stops her by grabbing her wrist. "No you don't get to leave me again." Y/n turns around looking at him.

"Why? I did you a favor Sherlock Holmes, look at you now." Her voice wavering slightly at the way the emotions started tugging at her heart. "You are a consulting detective, you are so smart and you became to be one of the greatest that people have ever seen." Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows.

"No, no that's not what I wanted." He pulls her off to the side getting away from the middle of the sidewalk. "Ever since I lost you I've been miserable, I told you that day I would never love someone like I will with you and I haven't. I push everyone away." He whispered. Her eyes lock with his.

"Sherlock-"

"No, no you are not pushing away from me, not again. I know you think you are helping me, but you're not." He confesses. "You're hurting me, I know you love me, it hurts to know you love me but you wont tell me." Y/n looks down at her shoes before letting her gaze back on his eyes her throat getting tighter knowing she was about to confess everything she thought of for years.

"I love you Sherlock Holmes. I was scared, I knew how great you could be and I didn't want to hold you back. I'm just me, and your Sherlock." She confessed.

"Just you? Y/n L/n you've had my heart for 10 years, 10 bloody years. I've thought about you every single day." He mumbles before cupping her cheeks- eagerly but gently placing his lips on her, her lips were just how he imagined it to be soft and gentle warming his heart with just her lips against his. He pulls back placing his forehead on hers. "Don't ever leave me again please, I don't think I cannot bare it." Y/n giggles lightly placing a delicate hand on his cheek.

"I cannot bare the thought of leaving you again, you're stuck with me William Sherlock Holmes"~

[justallihere]

i'm going insane bc i was away for the weekend and left my phone alone (god bless) and came back to a whole chapter PLUS love declaration PLUS forehead kiss ?? omg.....

Mira is not letting Xaden rest like ever, I do wonder what Violet told her while Xaden was prepping her bath tho.

“Not if it bothers you, they can’t,” said Xaden. “I’ll make sure they keep it away from you.” 

oh he wants violet to be comfortable so baaaad he's the embodiment of "is the sun bothering you queen" and im so here for it.

i'm totally fine and sane over xaden washing violet's hair im not kicking my feet or anything and im definetely not crying over how soft they are and how much trust must violet have on him bc she's letting him touch her hair after it being threatned to be cut.

forehead touches are my faaaav so u can imagine how well fed i am after this chapter and for that i say thank you alli *dramatically bows*

Xaden not wanting her to feel like she wasnt love so he just declares himself to her had me weak, like it could've been this grand gesture but nothing between them has ever been planned or expected so he just winged it and it was perfectly what she needed. talk about soulmates !!

when u told us the declaration was gonna hurt i didnt have this imagined in my mind but im so glad it happened this way and not the way i thought it was gonna happen. it was so bittersweet !!

ALSO she def knows she loves him shes just not ready to admit it bc in no way in hell would she ask him to say after he declared himself if she didnt know she also felt something

also the way they first slept i know xaden neck was complaining

also violet reminded me of a cat who always try to get closer in their sleep. she just wants to cuddle !! and shes so real for that

Rhiannon is truly a bestie!! not her terrorrizing the love interest we love a ride or die bestie, even if sometimes she's unresonable

“You whisked her away before anyone could check on her.” 

bestie there was not one single part of her that wasnt broken what was the man supposed to do *cries* but i do understand her stress

SLOANE MAIRI !!! not her calling the king of tyrrendor her brother i love that for her !! she's a princess so true. also i looove xaden and liam's talk it wasnt too cheesy bc tbh they dont operate like that but it was so genuine !!

can the guards chill !!

Garrick is just like me!! i too love gossip and will put my hands on it as soon as i can. but garrick its been like 12 hours wait a little longer or violet herself will call u out again. but also not garrick begging xaden no rule to country and he's just like "no <3" love that for him his wife just got back running a country is very far from his mind.

“Is that what you told her to do?” Rhiannon raised an eyebrow. “Get over it?” “No, but you’re not her, are you?”

He's so ??!!

the development of violet a few chapters ago being like "he didnt hold me while we slept bc there had been no excuses for it in Aretia" to now being like "im gonna curl into your arms so hard you'll never escape" and honestly good for them !!

anywayyyy i LOVED this chapter

lol a lot happened this weekend, welcome back!!!

Xaden’s literal one and only concern is Violet and her comfort, fuck everything else. I’m totally not fine and sane about the hair washing so I guess we balance each other out 🫶🏻

They are very much soulmates!! Xaden didn’t plan to fall in love with her, of course he didn’t plan some grand declaration of it either, we’re just going with what feels right. Violet is a grumpy little kitten yes you’re right

Rhiannon is stressed as hell, like give her best friend back RIORSON where is she

Garrick needs both gossip and for Xaden to do his job and he’s getting neither of those things! Too bad so sad!

Thank you!!!! 🩷

[breakyourrxles]

『paradise lost』 ; 05.5

❝ the pros and cons of breathing ❞

↳ a couple of years into art school, hongjoong doesn’t understand a lot of things; how to get paint out of his clothes, how people are so willing to talk about the way they feel, how they understand the way they feel on any one thing at all, really.

then he meets psych student wooyoung, and one thing wooyoung is going to do, is talk.

 ⎯ ୨series mlist୧ ⎯ 

『 pairing 』 : kim hongjoong x jung wooyoung

『 genre 』 : romance, best friends, sexuality exploration/discovery, explicit sexual content.

『 rating 』 : mature

『 word count 』 : 12k

『 warnings 』 : college-typical experience type stuff like parties, drinking, boys kissing boys. gay sex!! anal, oral, etc. first times, a lot of consent and safety talk and talking through things in general.

╰┈➤ a/n: hi. i know a lot of yall don’t read mxm content so i’m going to add a 🍬🍬🍬 line for easy smut scene searching if you want to read this for paradise lost continuity purposes but not really partake in the smut. I DO THINK YOU SHOULD AT LEAST SCAN THE SMUT because there’s a lot of talking and character development that takes place within and because of it, but...i can’t make you so here you go lol.

Halfway into Hongjoong's second year of college, he realizes that he's spent an absolutely unfathomable amount of time in the living rooms of people he's never met before.

And tonight is no different.

Shipped off to a fancy art college much to the vocal-but-not-disallowing disapproval of his parents, he gives it a moment of thought — how precisely where he was right now, in this moment, was almost surely the exact reason in which they did not want him to be there to begin with. A four hour drive one way for them to come and check up on him, and not something they were able to do often with the adult world still spinning all the same back home as if he had never left at all.

Perhaps it was for the best, though. No sudden check-ups only to find a hungover son with paint splatter in the carpet that they would ultimately be the ones paying the cost to remove.

Unfortunately, the paint thing had already happened — Hongjoong simply thinking the scenario over again from experience.

With his red solo cup in hand, half-empty and tapping the ring on his ring finger over the plastic idly as he thinks, the boy with the simple, brown hair — pulled back and off of his forehead — ultimately comes to the conclusion that he is bored. Maybe the party scene had lost its luster already.

Fitted, gray-wash jeans and a plain, black t-shirt, Hongjoong mulls over whether it's time to leave. Eyes darting around him in an attempt to locate any device that will inform him of the time of night without digging out his own phone from his pocket, his vision lands on the stove across the way — nearly obstructed by the kitchen island — but not just.

9:36pm.

He frowns briefly, looking down into his cup to consider refilling and remaining at the dull, lifeless excuse for a party before looking up and scanning the room again. Music low enough to comfortably converse over, the murmur of just that filling his ears without intent to eavesdrop — it being a side effect of alertness all the same, however — his attention draws to two people just to his right in the slightly more darkened hallway, making out heavily, and quite surely only moments away from making their way to one of the empty bedrooms upstairs via the staircase only just next to them.

He frowns again.

“Why the long face?”

The voice is unfamiliar, drawing his attention up and to the opposite side of him immediately (as well as just about frightening him out of his skin) — there resides someone he's sure he's never seen before, but makes every effort to cycle through the rolodex of names and faces he's encountered over the last however many months of college as to not be rude.

Because who would just walk up to him out of the blue like this?

Hongjoong's eyes — still wide and staring intently at whoever it is to his left — medium-length, lavender purple hair and tanned skin; fitted jeans, but designer, as well as a nicely fitting sweater with the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms — also designer.

Hongjoong pays enough attention to fashion to knows money when he sees it. He also pays enough attention around campus to know that despite the appearance in hair, this man does not go to his school.

He would remember.

“Sorry, have we met?”

“No, well—“ the stranger starts then pauses, tossing his head to the side and looking up towards the ceiling. “—depends how pedantic you want to be, I suppose. No, not before, but we have now,” he smiles, turning his attention back down to Hongjoong. “I'm Wooyoung.”

“Okay...” Hongjoong replies, too quickly to realize how absolutely awkward that response is to the scenario in question. “Of course, uh, I'm Hongjoong.”

“You know anyone here?” Wooyoung asks just as quickly, without missing a beat, and Hongjoong shakes his head slowly in response. “Yeah, I can kinda tell. Little awkward, yeah?”

“Not usually,” he says with a chuckle. “I don't typically talk to random people at random parties, though.”

“What year are you?” The boy with the lavender hair then switches the topic just as abruptly as he had shown up.

Hongjoong feels like he's experiencing whiplash in just a minute of conversation.

“Going on my third.”

“Oh,” Wooyoung answers playfully. “Older than me. First year.”

Finally it clicks for Hongjoong, why he's never seen Wooyoung around on campus — with him being first year, not much time to have seen him around. He nods as he explains as much, only for Wooyoung to protest all the same.

“Oh no,” he says, shaking his head. “We don't go to the same school.”

But the older boy squints at him, as if the entire conversation growing entirely absurd to him in real time. “How could you possibly know that?”

And as Wooyoung looks him up and down, Hongjoong finds himself to feel completely and totally seen in a way he thinks perhaps he's never experienced before. Was he being...checked out?

“Trust me,” he says, fingers pulling through lavender strands before bringing his cup up and to his lips. “I can tell just by looking at you that you do not go to the same school that I do.”

And logically, Hongjoong knows that where they are presently — a house among numerous other houses all sectioned for student housing — is smack dab right in between two different college campuses; one, being the art school that he goes to, and the other being the fancy-schmancy private school that presumably, now, this guy goes to.

He knows it's not meant to come off any kind of way — any kind of pretentious way, but it still sort of does. Hongjoong realizes that he's also not sure why he's sure it's not meant to come off that way...because he doesn't actually know this guy at all.

Vibes, he supposes.

“That obvious, huh?” Hongjoong chuckles into the rim of his own cup, eyes wandering back into the openness of the party for ample people-watching with his new acquaintance.

“To be fair, you have paint on your jeans,” Wooyoung says, looking down at the spot that he's referring to, just before bringing his gaze back up at towards Hongjoong's head. “And in your hair, I think.”

“Fuck, really?”

“Lighting's bad, hard to tell, but your response tells me it's certainly not an impossibility.”

“Things get a little wild in the studio, what can I tell you?”

“More about that studio, for one.”

The comment comes out so easily, so comfortably to the younger guy just next to Hongjoong — while he nearly chokes on the drink he attempts to swallow down in the meantime, but without making a scene.

Flustered might be an understatement.

As Hongjoong attempts to gather enough coherent thought for a reply, the assumed-host steps into the living room to turn the music up, much louder than before and not granting as much ability for discussion — the two men look at each other with knowing approval before Wooyoung nods towards the hallway that leads into the dining room and eventually the backyard patio.

Much fewer people adorning the cement (and far less drunk, as well), the two pull up some lawn chairs next to the small fireplace to keep warm in the cooler, nighttime air.

“So, what are you into?”

The question, albeit innocently enough posed, sends a somewhat knowing shiver down Hongjoong's spine. No stranger to getting hit on, it's not an entirely unknown question to have heard in his life.

But from a man, a new level of diceyness he's not nearly as vetted in.

It takes him a few seconds of pause and looking aimlessly into the cup in his lap to muster up the ability to answer the man sitting just next to him — eyes locked to the side of his head the entire time.

“I—I don't—“

“Okay, let me be more clear,” Wooyoung amends with a grin, leaning over the arm of the chair and closer towards Hongjoong. “Do you fuck men?”

Genuinely, Hongjoong appreciates the forwardness — a yes or no question, easy enough to answer in almost all circumstances. The age old question in almost every college experience since the dawn of time: are you having sex, or aren't you?

And if you are, then with who?

Alongside that all being true, he still feels as though his stomach has made its way straight up and into his throat.

The problem likely lying in the fact that Hongjoong isn't sure — one way 'yes' or another 'no'. Not really.

But in times like this, perhaps it's best to fall back on what you know, what history has presented us as our tale to tell.

“No,” he says, after what feels like years of mulling the question over in his head. Eyes pulling up and towards Wooyoung still watching from beside him, the two make eye contact only briefly before he has to pull his eyes back away once again — seating them comfortably into the empty cup between his thighs just as before.

Ears feeling so hot he's certain Wooyoung can see the shade of red even in the incredibly dim lighting, he considers it also perhaps entirely pointless in ones journey not to tell the truth when given opportunities for growth, for new, for different.

For what could inevitably become ones new normal.

“I don't know.”

But Wooyoung only snorts at the shakiness of the older boy's reply, gently pulling himself away and out of Hongjoong's space, as if knowing it the precisely right time to back off and give him his own.

Tone gentle and eyes gazing out and into the sky, the corners of Wooyoung's lips curl just ever so slightly — so slight that one might have missed it if not looking directly towards him.

“We're gonna figure that out.”

Mixing bowl in hand, earnestly curating the exact shade of blue that he wishes to achieve to sprawl across the canvas that currently lies in the middle of the floor in his dorm room, it's the gentle hum of his phone vibrating that pulls his thoughts out of their artistic space and back into the present moment.

Because who could possibly be texting him at nearly 10pm on a Tuesday?

But when he picks up his phone and illuminates the screen to find the ever telling notification pop up, even based on their little interaction thus far, he's not all that surprised.

>Wooyoung: come out with me tonight, there's a thing.

Hongjoong mulls over in his head what on earth 'a thing' could be, and even in spite of the curiosity, decides on the good school boy approach.

>Hongjoong: can't. have a project due. what's “a thing” anyways?

Well, he already turned it down, might as well satiate the curiosity anyways. He's only human, after all.

>Wooyoung: you're in art school, bro. just tell them you needed an extra day to get the artistic juices flowing or whatever weirdo shit you art guys say. just come.

He rolls his eyes, both at the dismissiveness of his academia, and at himself — for sort of wanting to cave in and go to whatever the mystery is that Wooyoung so obviously chose not to disclose on purpose.

>Hongjoong: I barely know you and now you're trying to whisk me off to who knows where...ever heard of “stranger danger”?

Plopping himself down and onto the couch as he awaits a reply from the younger of them, Hongjoong looks down at the barely touched canvas of work that is definitely due in two days and sighs to himself. One, for being kinda irresponsible about it, and two, for being so easily swayed by the guy he met at a party with a dye-job far too shitty for how much money he has.

Just then, another message.

>Wooyoung: i'll make sure you get home safe and sound <3

Once again equal parts annoyed at the man in question for being the way he is and also at himself for sort of being interested in the game, he rolls his eyes at himself for the text of affirmation he then sends through to the other end.

An address comes through just as quickly, as if queued up and ready to go long before Hongjoong's will crumbles.

When they meet outside of the building — tall and beautifully crafted, Hongjoong recalls that they're actually rather far out on the other side of town. Not typically where he would find himself, but upon further thought, likely closer to where Wooyoung himself stayed. Shopping, living and staying for the upper-end of middle class and higher, Hongjoong's eyes shift from the building and down towards the man standing just beside him — this time dressed a tad bit more to-do, nice dark jeans and an incredibly fitted deep v-neck shirt, he watches as Wooyoung pulls his phone from his pocket and scrolls through something on it briefly — presumably the building code, once he stops and presses the four digits into the electronic pad on the front of the door and granted access with a beep.

Wooyoung looks over at a much less confident and quite evidently unsure Hongjoong, now a step below him and looking even smaller to the man a step above.

It's not even that there was much of a size difference between the two of them, but rather, the weight of the confidence that rode right alone with the boy with the purple hair — as if the world was his oyster, already figured out and just living in it. Enjoying it.

Perhaps something Hongjoong not only envied, but was perpetually drawn to from the start.

What they step into, however, is not what Hongjoong had in mind.

Eyes wide and eyebrows pressed to the sky, Hongjoong nearly stumbles at the first sights his eyes lay upon once the door closes behind them. It's not nudity — not outright, and nothing entirely explicit, but the overarching feeling of erotic energy he finds to not be easily ignored. Men happily walked along the corridors on leash and collar by their suitors, people as far as the simple eye can see adorning whips and chains and lingerie as they chat casually about work of domestic home life with their children's schools and exchanging stories of the recent kindergarten play one mans son just did — a retelling of Cinderella, in which the son in question got to play the traditionally female lead — and much to his delight, able to adorn the dress and all. Hongjoong finds the story he happens to overhear as he's gently pulled through marble hallways delightful, if not bizarrely touching given the juxtaposition of the situation he's now found himself in tonight.

Maybe he should have just stayed home and painted his fucking pictures.

“Umm, Wooyoung?” he stutters out, a hand tightly around his wrist, bobbing and weaving the both of them through the traffic of other passerby. He knows that his voice is small — matching how he feels in the moment exactly, and that over the sights and sounds of the party — likely goes unheard. Gathering the strength to assert himself (and some of it being rooted in fright), Hongjoong pulls back and against Wooyoung's forward momentum.

Feeling the tug, Wooyoung quickly darts his head back to look — terror unbecoming of Hongjoong's features. He stops immediately and turns to him.

“What? What's wrong?”

“You kind of should have told me where you were taking me.”

Wooyoung sighs in defeat, knowing as much. “Okay yes, but I knew you wouldn't come if I told you.”

“I should be allowed to not go!”

“I know! You are!” Admitting his defeat, Wooyoung huffs in the acceptance of his wrongdoing. “We can go if you want to, I'm sorry. I thought it would be fun, something to loosen you up a bit since you're a little—“

“Uptight?” Hongjoong asserts, but Wooyoung only tilts his head and grins halfway.

“Questioning, doofus,” he finishes the thought, and Hongjoong sighs in relief at the fact that he was wrong in his assumption. “We can go, seriously. If you want to go we should.”

Hongjoong can tell from the gentleness in his tone that he means it. Young and experienced and into...God knows what; yes, Wooyoung fucked up, and he was ready and willing to admit as much.

Figure, the both of them were already there, what could giving it a spin really hurt, after all?

“No—no,” Hongjoong stutters out, shaking off the last bit of visible nerves he had gripping his chest. “It's fine, I just...wasn't expecting this, is all. It's kind of a lot without a primer.”

“A primer,” Wooyoung snorts, grabbing Hongjoong by the wrist once again and pulling him — this time right along side instead of behind him.

“What? That's a thing people say it's not just like...an art thing, god.”

“I know, but coming from you it's just so especially...Art-Ho.”

“Says the guy with the shitty, washed out ten-dollar kool-aid dye job,” the older of the two bites back for the first time in their friendship. “It's cool, I used to dye my hair the same way when I was twelve.”

Hongjoong watches the features on Wooyoung's face change in a way they never have before; eyes widening in surprise and eyebrows raising in ways that Hongjoong knows the man just next to him used to seeing on his face instead. The turning of the tables feels pretty damn good, though.

“Careful baby,” Wooyoung snorts, tone obviously playful in response. “Get mouthy with me and I'll throw the art-twink to the wolves.”

Hongjoong wishes then and there that he could pinpoint the origin of the way his heart beats in particular at the liberal use of the pet name directed his way.

Without any time to think it over, Wooyoung raises his free hand to wave towards a woman standing in the kitchen with a silver, mirrored platter — atop it residing four, long-stemmed, glasses filled with a golden, bubbling liquid that would surely be an alcoholic beverage of some sort.

“Baby!”

The woman in question calling it out towards Wooyoung, Hongjoong figures it just a word casually thrown about, after all.

He also ignores that odd sinking in his chest at the realization.

“You didn't come last time I didn't know if you would be here tonight!”

Hongjoong watches on as the woman dotes on Wooyoung — fingers in his hair and hands on his face as if a woman fawning over a favorite niece or nephew — it's sort of charming and innocent, Hongjoong thinks to himself. Another absolutely bizarre oddity given their surroundings.

Suppose kinky people are just people, though. A concept often unspoken and long forgotten.

“Yeah, I had a big test I had to cram for so I couldn't take time out.”

“Good,” the woman coos, playfully switching her demeanor to stern just after with a finger pointed up and towards his face. “School's more important, prioritize that.”

“Yes, mother,” Wooyoung responds coyly.

Smiling again, the woman turns her attention to Hongjoong. “Who's your friend? I think this is the first time you've ever used your plus-one.”

“Friend I met last week at a house party, we hit it off so I kidnapped him and smuggled him into a crazy sex party so he knows exactly what he's getting into when becoming friends with me.”

Eyes wide at the words, Hongjoong slowly turns his head to look at Wooyoung, a million questions bouncing violently around in his brain before the shrill pleasantry of the woman cuts through and interrupts the words he was likely never to get out of his mouth to begin with.

“Awww, that's so lovely!” she says, as if nothing strange had been said by Wooyoung at all. “As long as he knows the rules: two drink maximum, condoms are a must at all times, be kind, safe and respectful! You're cute but we absolutely will remove you and blacklist you in a five hundred mile radius if we must.”

The boy with the brown hair can hear the kindness in the woman's voice, but mixed with it the absolute seriousness in her words. He knows that she means business, and that these sorts of things — when managed and hosted properly, are not to play around with. Safety is everyone's number one priority — as it should be, and anyone who becomes a threat to that is not welcomed. Not then, and not ever. He appreciates the sentiment, but—

“We're not going to be getting into anything tonight,” Wooyoung cuts in with the same thought that Hongjoong is having that very same second. “I just wanted to show him around, you know, what's a little sex party hopping between pals?”

Content in the fact that he and his younger keeper remain on the same page in the scenario, Hongjoong takes it upon himself to bow out of the conversation slightly — taking a few steps behind and back where they came from in order to get a glance of his surroundings better. With the initial horror having largely worn off, he finds it within himself to enjoy the sights, sounds and scents of the goings on; at the end of the day, it's really just people enjoying themselves. People being happy. People being safe.

“You new?”

The words coming in so deep and heavy, Hongjoong finds himself not only startled but unsure whether or not they're intended for him — turning to his left and peaking into the corridor to find another man — arms crossed and leaned against the marble walling, Hongjoong looks around himself if for no reason other than to confirm that it couldn't possibly be anyone but him that had been addressed.

“Um, yeah, with a friend,” he answers, attempting to sound more confident in the interaction than he feels.

“You bottom? You look like you bottom.”

Not a question Hongjoong has put much thought into, and not necessarily one he cares to put thought into right this moment, he feels the shrill tingle of discomfort and alarm shoot down his spine at the inquiry. Not good. Very bad thing, actually. Too much, and way too fast.

“I—I don't—“

And with the man shuffling slowly towards Hongjoong, he takes his first step backwards, only to be met by the firm chest of another person at his shoulder.

Not at all comforting, given the situation, until he cocks his head up and to the side to find that all too familiar and in this case — extremely comforting, horrendous dye job.

“Back off, man.”

The words sound stern from Wooyoung in a way that Hongjoong can't place. Perhaps in a way that he's never quite heard before, either. Hands in his pockets, standing strong and in place as he looks past Hongjoong and out towards the man in question.

“He yours, then?”

“He's not yours,” Wooyoung amends. “And make no mistake, Lady Arcus will be hearing about this.”

Hongjoong watches the man scoff, rolling his eyes at the gesture. “I didn't even do anything, why the fuck is he here if he's not going to play?”

“Yeah, alright, you're gone.”

Before Hongjoong can even really follow the goings on, especially in accordance to the rules of an establishment and sub-culture so foreign to him, Wooyoung is shouting into the kitchen for the woman he had just been conversing with.

“We're gonna go,” Wooyoung whispers down towards Hongjoong's ear. “Just give me a second to let her know what happened.”

“O-okay—“

Just as quickly as the scenario begins, it ends. The woman known as Lady Arcus swiftly sorting through the identifying information of the man in question to pass along and through the kink circuits for other people to be wary of — the two men air kiss her twice before heading out and on their way — a slew of weary apologies and warming send offs showered on Hongjoong by her and other caring onlookers as Wooyoung delicately leads Hongjoong out of the building and down the three, concrete steps towards the street.

Hands on his hips, he pauses in place — removing one hand from his side in order to card it through his pale hair.

“Man, I'm so fuckin' sorry, dude,” he begins, the disappointment heavy in his voice. “I feel so bad, I've been to so many of these things and nothing like that has ever happened.”

Hongjoong can hear the guilt so laden in his voice. It certainly was disappointment, but more than anything, disappointment in himself.

“It's fine, really,” Hongjoong insists, chuckling lightly. “Not the first time I've been aggressively hit on, I'll survive.”

“Yeah I'm sure, it's just—“ and Wooyoung pauses to collect his thoughts, frowning as he does in the cool nights breeze. “I fucked up. Big time. I shouldn't have brought you here to begin with and I'm sorry.”

‘I'm sorry.’

And in the moment, Hongjoong doesn't know what comes over him. A combination of the adrenaline of the scenario just before mixed with the intoxicating, encompassing feeling of being seen and heard by someone — he thinks that despite all of this being new, everything about this situation being new, completely uncharted waters, that the one thing he knows right here, right now, is this.

That sometimes there is nothing more beautiful in a moment than romanticizing everything ugly and decaying about it — give it a new life, remember it by the way that it's reborn by your own doing.

One slow step towards Wooyoung, then the second much quicker, Hongjoong reaches out and for the mans wrist — grasping it into his hand and closing the distance between the two of them in an instant. It's not the height difference that brings Hongjoong to his tip toes, maybe the nerves and necessity within to feel bigger, stronger, more confident in the decision as he attempts to pull Wooyoung against him and just as messily — their mouths.

And Hongjoong almost manages it in time before Wooyoung catches on and meets the other with just enough resistance to send him reeling.

“Okay, wait, wait—“ Wooyoung starts, wanting to clear the air just as quickly as he surely has muddled it. “Look, first of all, I'm not against that.”

He's making his best effort to actually hear the words coming out of Wooyoung's mouth — through the humiliation of the drowning feeling of rejection, especially in such a raw moment — he promises himself that he won't cry. Not now, not tonight, and not over a man he's barely known for a week.

“Are you listening to me?”

Snapping out of his daze, all of the worst thoughts and feelings festering and making themselves home in his head and heart, Hongjoong nods along — looking forward to getting home and never having to see this man again thereafter.

“I know this feels shitty right now, I know it does,” Wooyoung insists, grabbing at Hongjoong's hands and attempting to lace fingers together with no help from the other party, he sighs at the response. “Just...slow down, okay? Tonight's been kind of crazy.”

Silence takes them, another couple happily giggling to one another as they exit the building and walk past the two boys on the sidewalk. Wooyoung can see the pain in Hongjoong's features — the disappointment, the weakness.

“Let me take you home, sleep this off, and everything will be fine tomorrow. Look, I know it feels so shitty right now I know it does but I swear to god I'll make out with you for an hour when you're not traumatized from going to a sex party you never wanted to be at to begin with, okay?”

Hongjoong has to give it to the man, he certainly has a way with words. Not being able to fight the smile that cracks through his lips, Wooyoung's also breaks in response, a sigh of relief following shortly after.

“Okay? Can I take you home?”

“Yeah, okay.”

In the months that follow, Hongjoong finds that much to his surprise, Wooyoung seemingly has every intention of staying true to his word. Having a text to wake up to from the rich boy with the awful dye-job despite the previous nights activities, Hongjoong feels relief wash over him as he sets his phone back down on the night stand and rolls back over and onto his stomach.

The grin is embarrassing, he's thankful that he lives alone.

And every morning there after comes texts from Wooyoung. Be it just a thought he has from the night previous or a picture of a new restaurant that's opening around his side of town that he hopes for the two of them to try some time in the near future — Hongjoong feels a sense of belonging, a sense of inclusion that he's not sure he's ever really felt any time before then.

It's late one random evening on a school night, that Hongjoong has himself sat on the couch in the living room with his current project being sewn with nimble fingers that he comes to terms with things for the first time ever, really.

A 90s romcom playing on the television before him, the lights dancing along his features and the white walls of his student housing that he sighs to himself and finally feels ready to think the words without question: 'I have a crush on him.'

Naturally, navigating the uncertainty of ones sexuality always comes with its own set of questions and unknowing. Hongjoong accepts that he's well aware that his crush on Wooyoung could be a culmination of so many things, not even necessarily a romantic interest.

The truth of the matter is that Jung Wooyoung is an attractive man, who is attracted to men, and shows an interest in Hongjoong. For a boy just inching himself out of the proverbial closet, nothing sounds better, more inviting — easier.

And over the months, Wooyoung only lends himself to being more and more attached to Hongjoong's side.

When Hongjoong finds out that Wooyoung's major in school is Psych, it clicks a little bit more — a deeper understanding of why it is that the man may have been drawn to such a closet-case as the oldest of them seemed to be — deeply repressed and unsure and insecure, truly a cocktail of discovery for a budding student all too happy to pick apart someone's brain to learn a thing or two.

He was sure it was part of it, but Wooyoung was respectful enough, caring enough — to not make Hongjoong feel like his own sort of school project. A science experiment that someday Wooyoung would write his thesis on and that's all that Hongjoong would ever really be to him.

The irony in and of the fact that for those so unsure of themselves and of those around them, firsts and seconds often end up being nothing more than romanticized teenaged tales we tell when we're older; our first love, childish and wild and special in its own right, but ultimately — unimportant and inconsequential.

Perhaps Wooyoung knew that the likelihood of him ending up fitted into such a box in Hongjoong's future was high.

“This party blows,” Wooyoung sighs into his plastic cup, back up against the fake marble counter top in the kitchen of someone that, as usual, neither of them had ever met before. “Why did we come out here?”

“It was your idea,” Hongjoong chuckles, tossing a pretzel into his mouth as he settles himself the same next to his friend. “Nothing better to do on a Tuesday night.”

“Homework.”

“Awww, so studious,” Hongjoong mocks, elbowing the boy next to him and causing him to flinch.

“Give it a rest, would you. This place is a drag, I'm about to go make out with someone's girlfriend just to feel something.”

“Now that I would like to see.”

“Ew, look at you, voyeur.”

“Says the guy that took me to a fucking kink party on our first date.” Hongjoong giggles, shoving more pretzels into his mouth.

“That!” Wooyoung begins, finger in the air as if intending to make a point. “—was a mistake, and I have apologized profusely for it, how long must I be punished for it,” he finishes, sulking into the last few words playfully.

“Not punishing you, but you have to admit it's a hilarious story to tell.”

“Indeed, we'll tell our partners a few years down the line over drinks and a threesome, I'm sure.”

“Okay I take back what I previously said, that is what I'd really like to see,” Hongjoong says, leaning over and to the side towards an open bottle of some sort of liquor as he takes it and pours a bit into his cup. “Imagine how crazy that would be.”

“Professional Super Special Guest Star! That's what my business cards will say,” Wooyoung chuckles, taking another swig of his drink before handing the cup to Hongjoong for him to fill as well.

Taking it, Hongjoong shakes loose, brown strands of hair out of his face gently in order to pour the liquid, smile wide at the make believe scenario they've concocted as a result of their boredom.

“So, professional threesome guy? Not counting on the Psych stuff working out?”

“Au contraire, mi amor,” Wooyoung begins, a devilish grin replacing his once playful one and leaning his face in closer towards Hongjoong's. “I very much intend on doing both.”

Turning his head only enough to allow the corners of his eyes to meet Wooyoung's, Hongjoong responds with a roll of them — snorting through his nose at the thought, but mostly because he knows that Wooyoung is being extremely honest about that fact.

Pulling back, Wooyoung takes another sip of his drink, fingers running through freshly dyed but still not great looking purple hair. “You know,” he starts, slightly more serious sounding than just moments before. “You've gotten so much more used to my antics now, I don't even make you the slightest bit uncomfortable when I get into your space! Look at the baby, all grown up!”

“I'm older than you,” Hongjoong replies, looking at him with a pressed eyebrow as if not appreciating the tone. “And yes, suppose eventually anyone could get used to—“ pausing, Hongjoong waves a hand in and around the younger mans general vicinity next to him. “—all of this.”

It's a silent response, just a smile and a nod from the man — as if admiring some artwork of his own. Eyes falling over the confident man that Hongjoong had become just before his very own — well-spoken and aware of himself and more accepting of himself, at that. Wooyoung, of course, wouldn't be himself if he didn't accept some credit for it, for the obvious influence he had on him.

He's thankful that it's been positive, and more than anything, he's thankful that he gets to see it and experience it. A Kim Hongjoong that's smart, talented, creative, open, thoughtful, understanding; and more than anything else, willing. Willing to listen, willing to bend, willing to give.

“Can I kiss you?”

The words throw him through a loop a bit, if he's honest. Earnest features on Hongjoong's face as he asks the question — comfortable and confident. Two of the things the man never was when they met.

Oh, how time flies.

Hongjoong watches as Wooyoung scans his face over, presumably attempting to find any tell, any reason at all that he should advise against such a thing. One side of his mouth curling upwards and into a slight grin, Wooyoung glances around them at their surroundings — a few strangers, empty cups with spilled alcohol all over the counter tops and a broken glass in the sink — before landing back on Hongjoong.

“Here? In the middle of the kitchen?”

Hongjoong laughs, the coyness in Wooyoung's voice answer enough to his inquiry but unable to give a straight on answer unless it suits him — or he absolutely has to. In his mind, he worries for the future clientele of the man that would be having to deal with him, and how thankful he is that he may never end up on that couch looking for advice in the future.

That doesn't mean he's not going to fucking kiss him, though, because he's been waiting too long and he absolutely is.

Despite Hongjoong leaning in first, asking for permission first; it's a daunting, new, first experience — not only kissing another man, but doing so in public. Safety not a concern and for that he is thankful, but he is also thankful for the subtle guidance of Wooyoung in the moment as he also steps forward to match him — a gentle hand reaching up and towards Hongjoong's face to delicately hold him as their lips finally meet for the first time. Not the first time either of them have kissed another person — romantically or sexually, but Wooyoung can feel the tremble from Hongjoong all the same. The sensation of newness, of unsureness.

Sometimes, the kiss is all it takes to know where you stand on the matter. The more experienced one of the two knowing better than anyone that this may be the first and the last time that Hongjoong kisses a man.

But it also might not be.

Standing outside of Wooyoung's apartment, keys in hand, he smiles gently at the man just before him — it's a conversation that he knows should happen, and truthfully, he's not too attached that the rejection will torment him all that much — but rejection is such all the same, and never feels good no matter how inviting of it you may have been.

“So,” he starts, carefully untying his scarf with intent to walk inside shortly after. “How was it? How do you feel about it?”

Hongjoong looks at him wide-eyed, a look that Wooyoung thinks he hasn't seen on him in so long now. Taken aback, caught off guard — as if Hongjoong had never even considered the fact that he should think about what had taken place back there in that kitchen.

“Good,” is all he manages out at first before realizing that the man in question may require more. “It felt good, but weird.”

“New weird or straight weird?” he asks, a gust of wind blowing lavender hair into his hair at just the very same moment.

But without skipping a beat, Hongjoong replies immediately. Confidently. Without any question lacing his tone — setting Wooyoung's nerves to rest for the night in accomplished bliss.

“New weird.”

Upon entering Wooyoung's apartment, Hongjoong finds himself to be a bit shocked at what he finds. He supposes, that in some way, he expected more. Wooyoung — the eccentric type that he was — a kinkster at that, perhaps with harnesses and whips and chains adorning his abode. Looking back on whatever subconscious, preconceived notion he may have had prior to entering, it was a bit far-fetched. Unlikely for a guy barely in his twenties to effectively be residing inside of a sex shop, Hongjoong chuckles to himself under his breath as he takes the sights in for the first time: dark blue wallpapering and black couches, colorful, abstract paintings hanging from a handful of different places — so meticulously and deliberately decorated in such a high class, sensual sort of way that now that he's experiencing it, is so much more fitting of the man in question than anything else he may have previously had in mind.

The faint scent of musk and wood over taking Hongjoong's senses just then at the thought, his eyes landing on the large, three-wicked handle that it surely had been coming from even in spite of not having been lit at that moment — he finds comfort in it. In his surroundings.

In Wooyoung.

“Want something to drink?” the man offers from the kitchen, already pulling open the large, stainless steel door to the refrigerator. Hongjoong declines however, settling himself down at one of the stools in front of the kitchen island. Black marbling with white accenting — only a lone, silver, paper towel holder sitting atop it before the glass of water that Wooyoung pours himself finds itself set down there as well, the man seating himself shortly after.

“Wow, this is the first time you've been here, isn't it?”

Hongjoong nods, eyes still wandering and taking it all in.

“Like what you see?”

It's a joke, Hongjoong knows that. A coy, play on the typical pick up line. Not that he'd be all that opposed, regardless. He thinks. He's pretty sure, anyways.

“Can I ask you something?” Hongjoong finally says, eyes settling themselves onto Wooyoung's across from him.

“Shoot.”

He pauses, mulling over the words before allowing for their exit.

“What are you gonna do with the whole...lifestyle thing? Ya know, when you graduate and land in your career. Can't imagine most people would be so open-minded about what their therapist likes to do in his off time.”

One corner of his lip curling upward, Wooyoung takes a sip of his drink, only to shrug with the utmost nonchalance. “Keep doing what I do. I'm not going to stop.”

The answer is both shocking an quintessentially Jung Wooyoung simultaneously.

“The thing is,” he begins again, leaning forward to press an elbow into the marble as his chin sits atop his hand. “Can't stop being me and living my life. Not for my family, not for a partner, and definitely not for a job. Part of the reason I even wanted to get into this line of work was to specialize in that sort of thing anyways.”

“The sex?”

“The talking about sex, yeah.”

In listening to him, it makes sense. Hongjoong smiles delicately at the man across the marble. “Have you been psychoanalyzing me our entire friendship?”

It's a joke, but not really.

“Of course, it's not really something I can just turn off, but I'm not your therapist — or even a therapist, yet, so it's not really my place to diagnose you, if that's what you're asking.”

Reaching across and to Wooyoung's glass, Hongjoong slides it towards himself to take a sip before responding. “I guess, kind of.”

“Therapy isn't a punishment,” Wooyoung begins again, almost out of the blue, from how Hongjoong hears it. And it sounds pointed. “We all have stuff.”

“Enlighten me,” Hongjoong says, looking up and over the rim of the glass as he sips from it again.

Wooyoung rolls his eyes. It's obvious that Hongjoong is fishing for the kind of thing that he doesn't necessarily want to give him, but in the spirit of not wanting to leave him hanging — plays along. A little.

“What? Like how you still haven't confessed your little crush to me?”

Choking on a third sip, Wooyoung can't help but giggle at the reaction as Hongjoong pulls one of his long sleeves even further forward to wipe the liquid from his chin.

“That obvious, huh?”

“You kissed me.”

“Then why do I have to say it!”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes again. “Non-verbal communication is communication, but being able to verbalize it is a skill. One you desperately need to work at. Actions speak louder than words but we are still a verbal society at large.”

Hongjoong pauses to take the words in. He knows that there's truth in them, however difficult it may be for him to parse. A young man having spent the majority of his life growing up in, reflecting through, feeling through art — numerous methods of non-verbally expressing himself — Wooyoung was correct in saying that it was a skill, and one that Hongjoong had long since left by the wayside.

“I don't know if I have a crush, really—“ he finally responds, reluctantly making eye contact through the sort-of confession. “I think I'm terrified of saying things and them not being true.”

“And you never feel confident enough in anything you feel to say it.”

“Basically.”

Standing up, Wooyoung pulls the now empty glass from Hongjoong's nervous, busy fingers — turning towards the sink and placing it within before turning again and leaning against that very spot.

“It's okay to be wrong. You're going to be wrong. That's a part of life.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“What do you think is going to happen if you tell someone you have a crush on them, then you wake up the next day and don't anymore?” Wooyoung asks, shrugging and waving his hands about into the air around him. “Like, it's fine. That's your truth, you should live it. Experience it.”

“I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings if I don't have to, so I want to be sure, I guess.”

Huffing through his nose and cocking his head to the side, Wooyoung gazes upon Hongjoong with the utmost gentleness — it's a look that says 'oh, you sweet darling.' Hongjoong understands that in a way, it's somewhat condescending. Probably not purposefully, but it comes off as such.

Not that he really blames the man, though.

“You'll never be sure,” Wooyoung says, stepping towards Hongjoong and motioning him with a nod towards his bedroom. “Whatever sign you're looking for? It doesn't exist—“

And as he stands, Wooyoung tosses an arm around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to the fluffy, brown hair that he's grown to adore so much over their relatively short friendship.

“—You can just live. Just live.”

As they settle into bed together, Hongjoong accepts that it's a decision he's made long before that night — climbing into soft, dark sheets as the television in front of the bed flickers over them. Wooyoung asks if he needs anything before they settling in for the night, Hongjoong shakes his head, slowed by the vision of Wooyoung pulling his t-shirt up and over his head and flinging it across the room into the general direction of the laundry hamper. Making eye contact with the man, he can feel his ears redden at his being found out, pulling the sheets up only that much more in a pathetic attempt to hide from a man he's about to be sharing a bed with.

But Wooyoung only chuckles under his breath. “Do you want me to put something on? I don't mind, seriously. I hadn't really thought about it, is all.”

And Hongjoong knows that however he answers is much more telling than the actual words that come out of his mouth, but figure after tonight — after everything — may as well begin that whole communication thing that everyone seems to be on about these days.

“No, it's fine.”

Disheveled, lavender hair bouncing as he makes his own way into the comfort of his sheets, Hongjoong eyes him from his peripheral. It's not the first time he's shared a bed with a man, nor is it the first time he's shared a bed with someone that he...is sexually attracted to?

It's the first time that both of those things have been taking place at the same time, though.

Wooyoung — not particularly toned or built, but thick, sturdy, with heavenly tanned skin and despite how god fucking awful that dye-job may be, the contrast of it sure does only make his skin glow just that much more.

He watches Wooyoung idly stare forward and into the television, attempting to find a suitable viewing experience whilst Hongjoong has already found his.

The unfortunate tenting in his sweats much more telling than he was going to be verbally willing for a long time.

Inhaling deeply, Hongjoong thinks over all of the ways he's ever made a move on a woman he's slept with, and why this feels any different. Sure, it's a region of sex previously unexplored — but he's no virgin — so why this. Why is he being like this?

He makes a decision though, and hastily at that — inching his way over to Wooyoung and pressing himself against the man's side, head resting on his shoulder — only briefly taken aback, Wooyoung adjusts his arm to create space where Hongjoong wishes to reside next to him, but not without a knowing grin across his lips; which the older boy catches visual of, of course.

“You a cuddler?”

Hongjoong thinks it over for a second before responding — suddenly feeling like every experience brand new to him regardless of previous exploration.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Cute.”

“Wooyoung—“

“Yeah?”

But what's awaiting Wooyoung when he looks down towards Hongjoong isn't a man with a question, or with a comment of any kind. It's beady, expectant eyes looking back up at him — eyes full of anticipation, full of interest, and desire.

He's happy to oblige.

Pulling up and from under Hongjoong to readjust — a necessity in order to carry through with what's being asked of him — Wooyoung pauses seated for just a second as the other man lies back comfortably, as if to give him time to back out, to reassess the situation, but with no such argument made, he continues his follow through, leaning over and then down atop Hongjoong's torso and gently pressing plush, warm, lips to his. It's so light, barely felt at all at first — a testing of the waters, but it's Hongjoong that's the first to press in further, teeth grazing the bottom of Wooyoung's lip as he deepens the kiss. Pastel, purple hair cascading down around the two of them, Wooyoung's happy to meet him halfway in his intensity — teeth accidentally clashing together in one particularly fervent moment, and Hongjoong finds the situation to be escalating perhaps a bit faster than he had originally anticipated, if the hardness on him, and the one against his thigh were to be any indication.

Wooyoung pulls back momentarily, half-lidded eyes of his own looking down at another brown pair matching — readjusting his positioning again to have all of his weight on one side and freeing up his other hand, he makes no movement with it. Not before asking.

🍬🍬🍬

“Do you want me to touch you?”

The question sends a shiver down Hongjoong's spine — anticipation, anxiety, want, but not without that pang of horror — as if once a man touches his dick there's no going back, everything is forever changed.

As if it even matters.

He nods. Wooyoung shakes his head but still allows his hand to begin the slow descent beneath the sheets between them.

“Say it. What'd we talk about?”

“Oh my God,” Hongjoong huffs, sure that the man can feel the way his heart nearly beats straight through his chest on the way down, but feeling set ablaze by the touch all the same. “Yes, God you're so annoying.”

Fingers deftly dipping into the waistband of his sweatpants, the breath in Hongjoong's throat hitches as Wooyoung's lips curl expertly along the edge of his ear.

“God, but you like it so much.”

In the very moment, Hongjoong tries not to focus on how humiliating it would be to bust right then and there. Quickly trying to recall a moment where he's been talked dirty to before: and failing.

Anything like that: and failing.

A desperate attempt to get his mind off of the way Wooyoung's fingers curl around his length at that very moment — so foreign and warm despite having his dick touched before, by other people, something about it feeling so new.

And scary.

And it's in that moment that the sudden realization of what comes after this dawns on him. Kissing and touching, the easy stuff. It's all fun and games. Boys experimenting and having a laugh in college because they're horny and just want to try something out.

But if he is willing to suck dick? Tonight? Is he willing to take dick tonight, at that?

The thoughts are a little all-consuming and all of a sudden, taking him out of the moment in an instant and stiffening under Wooyoung's touch; he notices it immediately — stilling for a second, only to pull his hand back and face away from Hongjoong altogether.

This was always a possibility. There's always the chance that they land on the side of “no.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—“ he inhales deeply, closing his eyes to center himself again before opening them and looking at Wooyoung. “I'm fine. It's a lot. New.”

“We don't have to do anything.”

“I know,” Hongjoong replies immediately, worried that Wooyoung may think that he feels pressured. Pushed. Rushed. “I know that. It's me, not you.”

Wooyoung smiles gently at the response, relieved at having not crossed any boundaries before settling back into bed, but not before leaning in and kissing Hongjoong on his fluffy, brown head just as he had previously.

“Let's get some sleep, I'll touch your dick tomorrow if you want.”

“God, such a romantic.”

Wooyoung can't say he's all that surprised when he wakes up to the feeling of a strange hand gently inching it's way across his abdomen. Not expected, but not surprised, either.

Fingertips ghosting across the skin beneath the covers, barely conscious, he turns his head towards the guest in his bed, eyes seemingly equally sleepy but lucid all the same — he smiles softly at the experimental touches, only barely dipping under the elastic band of his pants — little intent behind it and almost certainly not bold enough to make any real moves towards anything more defining, he allows the movements to continue at Hongjoong's pace...slow, unsure, but interested all the same.

Then, hand driven further down, one lone fingertip grazing the length of Wooyoung's cock — standing tall by morning and attention it's receiving — he inhales sharply at the touch with eye contact maintained.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

And with brown hair messy and strewn across his face, Hongjoong nods, the words of affirmation following shortly after and without more prompting.

“Yes.”

Upon Wooyoung's insistence, they find themselves in the shower together — the first time they've seen the other bare, but more than that, with physical intent behind it. Hongjoong is surprised by how comfortable it feels to have Wooyoung's eyes and hands on him — stepping behind to scrub Hongjoong's back and gently pressing kisses to the juncture between his neck and his shoulder, he closes his eyes and takes it in.

Acceptance, maybe. The moment in which he finally, truly comes to terms with himself and all that comes with that.

Settling back into the sheets from which they came, Hongjoong lies back, head against the pillow as Wooyoung settles between his legs — a pile of potential essentials off and to the side of the bed, he attempts to put it out of his mind for the time being.

Enjoy the moment. Enjoy the journey.

“If it gets to be too much just let me know,” Wooyoung insists as he pushes the covers to the bedding off of the edge to make room for himself to lie on his stomach. “We can always stop, any time. You don't have to do anything just because we've started.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hongjoong huffs out, eyes rolling up and towards the ceiling as Wooyoung brings a familiar hand up and curls fingers around his dick again. One, slow, pump — then a second, and Hongjoong feels Wooyoung adjusting his positioning again before the warm, wetness of a mouth takes him. Familiar, not the first time, not really.

Bringing a hand down and into Wooyoung's hair, he makes it a point to force his focus down, as well. To truly take the moment in. It's not a scenario in which he wants to pretend that it's anything other than what it is: you don't have to disassociate. You don't have to pretend it's not a man — not Wooyoung — it is, and that's okay, because it's what you want.

Wooyoung hollows his cheeks, taking Hongjoong further back, and fingers gripping into pastel hair, he inhales sharply, back of his head pressing hard into the pillow just beneath it.

“God, good,” he exhales, Wooyoung hums in response. “I think I'm gonna come soon, though.”

Huffing through his nostrils as he pulls off of the man beneath him, Wooyoung grins as he meets eyes with Hongjoong once again. “Already? Man, you're an easy sell. You don't want to come?”

“Not yet,” Hongjoong answers, thinking it over after having already given an answer but wanting to be sure. “Yeah, not yet.”

Wooyoung shrugs, so casual about the whole ordeal it's almost as if nothing sexual is going on at all. Hongjoong can't help but admit that he finds his nonchalance comforting, in a way.

That Wooyoung is going to be Wooyoung no matter what, and at all costs.

A pause between the two of them before Hongjoong speaks up again. “Do you want me...to...”

Cocking his head to the side, confusion lacing his features for just a split second before realizing what it is that his friend is on about, he laughs. “Oh, you mean suck my dick? I mean, if you want, you don't have to.”

“I feel like I should—“

But Wooyoung stops him dead in the sentence. “Don't do anything because you feel like you should. The fundamental rules of being a good lover: GGG. Good, Giving, and Game.”

“What...is that?” Hongjoong asks, unsurprised by the fact that this has somehow turned into Wooyoung's kinky educational hour. It always was going to be that to some degree, after all.

“Good in bed, Giving of equal time and pleasure, and Game for anything...within reason,” he explains, “always, always the within reason, part. If you're not ready, you're not ready.”

Hongjoong watches his face for a moment, truly taking the concept in despite having just mocked the concept in his mind (all in good fun, of course), and nods once.

“I think...I want to wait.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Wooyoung acknowledges, leaning over and to the side to grab the small pile of items that had previously been discarded that way. “Do you still want to...do this?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Cool, see? No worries, I'll cum anyways, doesn't matter.”

And Hongjoong likes how normal Wooyoung is about the whole thing, making the situation feel so much less big than maybe it is to him. Everything is whatever and doesn't matter or no big deal and it's consoling, in a strange way.

He also notices the tingle up his spine at hearing the way Wooyoung just so casually talks about coming...as a result of him.

“Have you ever done this before?” Wooyoung asks, popping open the cap of the translucent bottle but pausing before expelling any of the liquid onto his fingers.

“You know I haven't,” he replies, briefly pulling his head up and off the pillow to look at the man between his legs like he's an insane person.

“I mean, by yourself,” Wooyoung amends, playfully slapping the inside of one of Hongjoong's thighs. “Or, I guess with a woman. You ever been pegged?”

Hongjoong can feel the familiar heat of humiliation burning up inside of his ears already.

“No...no to both questions.”

Humming at the response first, Wooyoung bites hit bottom lip as if to be thinking. “Okay, well, we'll take it very slow. Also you should let your girlfriend peg you, ya know, when you have one. Assuming this goes as well as we'd hope, anyways.”

“You talk so much,” Hongjoong whines as Wooyoung coats two fingers with lubricant, setting the bottle back to the side and out of the way.

“Yeah but you kinda like it, right? Kind of a hard sell to say you don't when you want me to fuck you in the as—“

“Can you not!?” Hongjoong groans out loudly now, upper body pulling off of the bed completely to look up at Wooyoung — knelt steadily between his legs and hand only just an inch off from their intended goal. The two men make eye contact, pause, then laugh — Hongjoong settling right back down into place.

“Okay, okay,” the more experienced of the two begins. “Gonna be honest with you, this first bit isn't gonna feel that great, but let me know if it gets to be too much, if you want me out just say 'out'”

“Yeah, I've heard, alright.”

With his middle finger sufficiently lubed, Wooyoung begins his slow press inside of Hongjoong — immediately met with anticipated resistance, he turns his attention up and onto the face of the boy in which he's penetrating — scanning his features for any sense of needing to remove himself at once, Hongjoong only winces slightly at the intrusion. One knuckle in, Wooyoung pauses, asking him how he feels, and Hongjoong nods to signify that it's okay to continue.

Second knuckle, Wooyoung pauses again, this time noticing visibly more discomfort splashed across the features of the man beneath him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you feel?”

Hongjoong pauses before answering, inhaling shallowly. “Uncomfortable. Not unbearable, though. God, how many fingers do you have in me right now?”

Wooyoung chuckles at the innocence of the question. “One, dude.”

“One!?” Hongjoong shouts, absolute disbelief in his tone in a way that Wooyoung isn't sure he's ever heard from his friend before, as if the idea of there not being an entire fist inside of him right now be so impossibly foreign that he hadn't even considered it to be the case. “Jesus Christ.”

“It gets easier, first time can be a little rough.”

“How are we—“ Hongjoong stops mid sentence, choosing his words over again. “You're...big.”

“Yeah, uh—“ Wooyoung snorts, a single finger still lodged within Hongjoong as the conversation carries on. “Pros of dealing with me is I know what I'm doing and I'll do my best to take care of you, cons being...well, it's gonna be a snug fit.”

“Arguably not even physically possible.”

“I don't have to fuck you, I won't be disappointed.”

“I know, it's not that, just—“ Hongjoong's thoughts interrupted by Wooyoung pulling from him gently and pressing back in. “Have you ever bottomed?”

“Of course,” Wooyoung happily admits, delicately finger fucking Hongjoong as the conversation carries on. “I like sex, I'll try just about anything.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah, I'm the one that told you to get pegged, remember?”

“God, that conversation feels like it happened so long ago already,” Hongjoong huffs out, slinging an arm over his face as he attempts to get used to the feeling of being penetrated.

“I'm gonna add another finger.”

Pulling from him, pairing his ring finger with his middle, and adding a bit more lube, Wooyoung presses forward again into the small amount of progress he's made on Hongjoong, this time receiving an audible wince at the considerably thicker intrusion — fingers gripping into the sheets beneath him, Hongjoong bites into his bottom lip, screwing his eyes shut in spite of them being obstructed by his arm.

He thinks it feels as though he's being torn open, not that he particularly wants to tell Wooyoung that.

“How does it feel?”

Breathy and quick, Hongjoong can only huff out an “okay.”

Two knuckles deep again, Wooyoung stills inside of him to allow him time to adjust. “Let me know when you want me to move.”

“Is this really better than just going straight in with dick?” Hongjoong questions, ignoring Wooyoung's sentiment entirely for his own. Flustered, horny, and uncomfortable, he writhes under Wooyoung's touch. “It feels...torturous.”

“I know, but I promise it's better to take it slow. It'll get easier the more you do it,” he insists. “You should have experimented more on your own. I feel like men have usually shoved something up their ass experimentally by the time they're twenty-three.”

“I missed the memo.”

“So it seems. I'm going to move.”

It's a dull ache, uncomfortable pull when Wooyoung drags his fingers out of Hongjoong and presses them back in. Once, twice, three times, before he stills inside again — deeper this time, Hongjoong can tell.

“I'm going to try something, let me know if anything feels different.”

“What do you mean different?”

“Like, good different. You'll know.”

Hongjoong waits for a few moments, only barely being able to feel the way that Wooyoung is allegedly fishing around inside of him, until a split second hits where his nerves light up like fireworks, muscles in his abdomen tensing violently at the touch.

“Jesus, that— what was that?”

“Ah, found it, good. I'm gonna suck your dick again, try not to come immediately since you said you didn't want to yet.”

Barely able to get the words of compliance out before it feels as though life itself gets stuck in his throat, Hongjoong feels that particular, sudden, explosion of nerves in his fingertips all over again as Wooyoung presses deep and takes him into his mouth again. He knows what it is, he's knowledgeable enough to be aware.

But fuck, he did not know it was going to be that fucking good.

And as good as it is, he's embarrassed by how quick it gets him there, only three or four bobs of Wooyoung's head down on his cock before Hongjoong is urging him over and over again to stop, that he's close, and Wooyoung just giggles again as he pulls off.

“God, you have no stamina, I hope you're better with pussy.”

“Well I wasn't the first time.”

“Fair enough. Do you want to try?”

‘Do you want to try?’

Famous last words.

Hongjoong exhales heavily, as if accepting a fate he hadn't already accepted long before they had even gotten to this point. The faint, comforting scent of pine sweeping through his senses just in that moment. As if to tell him he's in good hands. A sign.

A sign from the higher powers that be: have that man fuck you in the ass.

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

So casual about the whole thing.

Reaching over again and grabbing the metallic packaging, for some reason Hongjoong finds it surprising as he hears the tearing — moving his arm to look down at the scene between his legs. Wooyoung catches the subtle shock on his features and questions him about it. “What? You didn't think I'd wear a condom? After where I've been?”

“No, I don't know. I don't really know what to expect in any of this, I don't think.”

“Do you want me to not wear one?”

Hongjoong thinks on it for a second. “I think? Kind of?”

But Wooyoung frowns at the response, carrying on with the unpackaging of the rubber. “Bad answer. You should always use protection, unless you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I think it's the intimacy?”

Leaning forward as he rolls the condom down and onto himself, Wooyoung plants a kiss atop one of Hongjoong's knees. “It's still intimate. If this goes well we can get tested together and then I'll fuck you raw, how about that for romantics?”

Hongjoong attempts to ignore the way the words make his dick twitch, perhaps a little too interested in the idea of being fucked open and raw by Wooyoung — instead, he opts for a simple nod, and allowing his arm to fall over his face once again.

Lubed up fingers inside of him again, gently prying him open for what's to come, he inhales deeply as he feels Wooyoung adjust between his legs, lining himself up at his entrance with the exit of the digits and ever so delicately pressing forward with his hips.

Only a few centimeters in, Wooyoung stills, watching the features of Hongjoong's that he's able to see. “Are you okay?”

Hongjoong hums in response. Not Wooyoung's ideal reply, but it'll do, given the circumstances. continuing his drive forward, Wooyoung reaches down, hand along Hongjoong's waist to keep him in place as he slowly sinks in. Eyes locked on bitten lips and messy brown hair the whole time until fully encompassed by his body, Wooyoung stills again, swallowing down hard the primal, gut, desire to fuck the boy dumb at the stupefying, warm, tightness.

But he has to be better than that. It's his job, after all.

“How's it feel?”

Throat dry, Hongjoong finally takes a deep breath before answering. “A lot.”

“Yeah, I know. I won't move until you tell me to.”

“I think you should.”

“Are you sure?” Wooyoung questions, tone worrying and unsure.

“Yes, but can you—“ and Hongjoong pulls his arm away from his face, using the same hand to motion for the man inside of him to close the distance between the two. Wooyoung smiles at the gesture, gently readjusting and leaning in so that he lies atop Hongjoong completely.

“Better?”

“I don't know, please move. Do that thing again.”

Wooyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. “Bottoms are always so demanding, yes baby, as you wish.”

Hongjoong opts to ignore the pet name (a little bit) in favor of focusing on the sensation, and the sensation that he hopes to follow soon once Wooyoung finds the angle with his cock that he had just earlier found by hand, but he's thankful that it doesn't take long at all — and perhaps these are some of the joys of a first time with someone more experienced — that four, five gentle presses into Hongjoong and he's seeing stars all over again as the tip of Wooyoung's length meets that particular bundle of nerves. Toes curling and fingers dancing up and into Wooyoung's hair at the sensation, all he can manage is a breathy “fuck” in response to it.

“Good, right?” Wooyoung toys with him, lips dragging across the hot skin of Hongjoong's neck and jaw as he continues short, shallow thrusts to keep up the feeling that the man beneath him desires so much. “Don't forget to breathe.”

A bit of a funny reminder, Hongjoong finds, once he realizes that he had, in fact, been holding his breath for who knows how long. Wooyoung experimentally withdrawing just a bit further than he had been before driving back in — with it, the first full, resounding moan falling from Hongjoong's mouth.

Wooyoung thinks maybe he shouldn't have made fun of Hongjoong's inability to last just earlier in the morning.

“Do you want me to stroke your cock?” Wooyoung mumbles against skin, already reaching down and between them, and Hongjoong can barely find the breath much less the words to response anything coherent.

“I—I'll—“ is all he can whimper out between faster, fuller drives of Wooyoung into him. Wooyoung knows that he's attempting to say that he'll come, and not wanting to give away the fact that he's not too far from the same, simply nudges him even more towards that inevitability.

“So? you can come,” Wooyoung whispers between kisses and feathery nips into the flesh of his ear and jaw, his own high fast approaching and fingers gripping tight around Hongjoong's slick, pre-cum soaked cock. “You've been so good, take me so good, you can come.”

“Fuck, don't—“ but before he can make a plea, the rush of pleasure is already washing over him, ripping through his body like an orgasm never before experienced in his life — fingers gripping tight into lilac hair and back arching as repeated, whispered expletives drip from his mouth and ropes of cum cover otherwise tan, talented fingers. But Wooyoung is relieved at the sights and sounds, allowing himself the three or four hard, full pumps into the man beneath him before he buries himself in as deep as he can manage and empties himself into the condom with gritted teeth and a loud groan.

Chests heaving, first out of sync but eventually falling into unison, Wooyoung quickly pulls himself together enough to gently pull himself from Hongjoong and roll off of him, removing and tying off the condom before tossing it into the bedside waste bin.

Flopping onto the bed once again to enjoy the post-sex bliss, Wooyoung hesitantly turns his head to look at a weary, sleepy, and fucked out Hongjoong — arm tossed across his face once again and a seemingly unstoppable upward curve of his lips taking his features as he desperately attempts to collect his breath.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong sighs heavily, pulling his arm from his face only to turn his head to meet Wooyoung's gaze.

“I definitely like men.”

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

[unlimitedhorsepower]

Another disaster buddy pair is Ryan and Ivan. Ryan is insightful but Ivan would be offended by Ryan trying too hard to put him in the spotlight "subtly" (he wasn't subtle at all. In fact he announced this loudly and forced Ivan on the spot). And Ryan would be kinda miffed bc he's doing Ivan a favour like why is he sooo mad. But water under the bridge yanno, except Ivan slights him in other ways like not listening at all when Ryan's talking to him (thinking abt his blog or something) which is fine but then Ivan is giving bogus excuses for not listening which actually makes Ryan frustrated like he can tell Ivan isn't listening so why is he lying lol

Ivan would get frustrated with Ryan at some point and unlike Antonio, Ryan wouldn't bend over backwards for Ivan to figure himself out. Ryan will not be the bigger person, like damn what's Ivan's issue lol. He can work with Ivan without being his friend he's done this before, no problem.

Ivan not being straightforward at all would be Ryan's issue, who cares if he's annoyed by Ryan, that's fine. But he's always beating around the bush even if Ryan can clearly read him and know he's annoyed rn. Like how Karina is just plain annoyed if she is which is fine by Ryan, but Ivan would bottle all of that inside of him so hard, and even harder when Ryan points it out kinda jokingly like relax dude haha

Ryan says smth like "lol I thought you were like 15 before I looked it up online" and Ivan's year is ruined. He's an adult, thanks. Ryan has wronged him deeply and Ryan's like <-clueless. He can give Ivan style tips to not look like a 15yo. Barnaby's such a babyface too its fine dude lmao, just a funny observation. Relax. Ivan isn't relaxing he is constructing a narrative in his mind about how Ryan doesn't respect him and thinks he is a kid. And Ryan's like huh...cool idea of my opinions you made in your head? Damn? It's not true. Get well soon

Ryan and Ivan would be funny friends too bc Ryan wouldn't judge Ivan's hobbies or anything (contrary to what Ivan would think). If Ivan could just get past Ryan being insufferable it would be fine. Ryan would even indulge him and buy him some expensive merchandise bc he can. And whoa he has two tickets to this retreat at an authentic Japanese onsen like what a coincidence just enough for a guy's weekend out with Ivan.

But again they could never solve this issue by themselves buddy hero style

[skinandscales-if]

How would ROs (and ??? for some fun lol) react if they overheard MC gushing about them to a friend of theirs?? Like " They're just so amazing, I love ( insert over a dozen things about the RO) about them!" How would reactions change from crushing to relationship stage??

aww 🥺 this one’s so sweet

Crushing Stage-

Atlas: Stunned and wouldn’t bring it up. It takes him a really long while to believe that what MC is saying, and even then isn’t fully convinced there’s some kind of intentional move at play. Maybe they positioned themselves just right so he could hear them? Maybe the group collaborated to get at a weak spot of his? He needs time to think this over.

Puck: Leaves it alone but definitely thinks about it for a while. Tries and succeeds for a long while to leave it be and not put MC in any confronting situation, but can’t help but give small, practically imperceptible ‘tells’ from time to time. They are all very lighthearted, from asking if MC had a fun conversation with their friends, to playfully exaggerating the traits they heard MC mention. Doesn’t admit to anything though.

Skye: You know when you get a compliment from someone you admire and notice it more in your day to day? Skye certainly doesn’t intend to do such a thing but she 100% starts performing the positive traits she heard MC talking about more often. Honestly to the point where it becomes increasingly obvious that she heard. She tries to sidestep the conversation every time though.

Reese: Steps away as soon as he hears it and doesn’t bring it up. He instantly gets afraid of that type of dedication and adoration and starts to isolate himself from MC. Refuses to really get at the heart of the problem though, and the issue eventually combines with a bunch of other problems until one day he bursts.

???: Ah yes. A classic distraction technique. She will be more prepared for this next time if you think to pull this again.

Relationship Stage-

Atlas: Still stunned, but allows himself to believe it this time. He stands off to the side, not sure if he should insert himself, but smiles fondly as he listens. It really is a treasure to know you’re loved even without your presence. And even though he’s still coming around to the idea, it gets easier every passing day.

Puck: Walks in quietly into the conversation and jokingly pretends they didn’t hear anything. “My ears were burning,” etc etc, pokes fun at the situation and MC but they are really charmed and honored, just wanting to be around MC in general after that. All loving, but MC WILL be hearing about this for a while.

Skye: Attracts herself to MC like a MAGNET. It’s like she hasn’t even had to introduce herself- a perfect way to be basically invited into a conversation and she’s extra excited to hear such sweet things from MC. Participates with the rest of the group but from the way she’s basically wrapped around MC and making goo goo eyes at them, its clear to everyone that the conversation is over.

Reese: Doesn’t go to MC, but listens in for a lot longer with a softer smile. When seeing MC again, he acts incredibly affectionate though, and is glued to their side for a lot longer than normal. Is much more susceptible to giving said affection because he truly does feel like MC meant it and really admires the love that comes when he can’t make up some nonsense excuse to why they don’t really mean it.

???: Shit. That technique was a little too effective. She is exasperated. Why does MC need to tell everyone about her again?