#it was an absolute delight from start to finish

[nkplanet]

THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER

older!dean x fem!reader cw age gap, nsfw below cut (mdni), size kink (+ implied choking kink?), bunker era (think s9-10, so dean is 34-36 ish and reader is early to mid 20s), a little angsty in one or two places

notes my final assignment of first year is due in 12 hours. i wrote this instead. also i don’t usually write smut so if it’s shit dhmu

older!dean was hesitant to do anything with you at first. there’s thirteen years between you, and he’d always said it was too much, that he was too old for you. eventually, after months of teasing and flirting and god knows how many repetitions of “i know what i want, dean,” he’d grabbed your face and kissed you hard.

older!dean treats you like glass that he could break at any second. he’s gentle — gentler than he ever was with any other girl. he kisses your forehead, always has a gentle hand on you, and generally takes care of you. he cooks for you, wraps blankets around you when you fall asleep researching, and acts like the definition of a gentleman (to sam’s utter delight — the new material he’s gained to tease his brother with is endless).

older!dean shares his music with you. you call him old for it, and he makes a suggestive comment about you benefitting from his experience. he makes you a tape of songs he loves and catches you playing it in your room on more than one occasion. the two of you bond massively over music, with him showing you the rock he grew up with and you showing him newer stuff, like paramore. he’ll never admit that he thinks hayley williams is awesome, but you know.

older!dean hates taking you out on hunts. you met through hunting, and you’re a damn good hunter yourself (his words), but that will never stop him worrying. he’s protective, almost overwhelmingly so, on hunts, and you’ve had more than one biting argument about how he needs to let up. he promises he will some day, but you still see his eyes on you constantly. he needs to make sure you’re there, to make sure you’re safe.

older!dean loves to tease you with pet names to see how flustered he can make you. there are some he uses that are nice, and make you feel nice and warm inside, like angel and sweetheart. (darlin’ with his texan twang, always gets you blushing.) he tries to call you baby, but you veto it, stating the age difference as a reason. he tries to tease you, occasionally calling you kid and kiddo until you stop calling him honey and start only referring to him as old man.

older!dean absolutely loses it when you get hurt. you go on a hunt with sam, despite your boyfriend’s protests at getting left behind, and when sam calls as a heads up that you’re injured, he’s an anxious mess until you reach the bunker. you walk through the door bruised and a little bloodied, and he’s all over you. he doesn’t leave you alone, even after you’ve been cleaned up and ordered to rest by sam. he’s constantly touching you, either holding your hand or rubbing comforting circles on your hip. even when you heal he’s hesitant to let you out of his sight again, stating in the middle of a dark night while he holds you close that he can’t lose you.

things with older!dean start out soft and pretty vanilla, as he doesn’t want to push you or hurt you. he’s so caring and gentle with you, making sure you enjoy yourself and holding you close and making sure you finish first.

when older!dean finds out you’re just as freaky as he is, it’s over for you. he’s relentless, testing new things with you almost every night. youre sure you’ve tried every position by now, but dean’s favourite is a tossup between missionary, where he can watch your face as he all but pounds into you, and cowgirl, where he can watch as you tire yourself out on top of him (being able to see your tits bounce is also a bonus).

older!dean loves it when you suck him off but let’s be honest: he’s a huge munch. he’s eaten you out in more places than you can count, including (probably) every surface in the bunker, the backseat and driver’s seat of the impala, countless motel rooms and even a few diner restrooms.

older!dean has trouble letting you take control sometimes. he feels a little strange, given the age gap between you, but when you do get chance? he loves it. being completely under your control, letting you do whatever you want? it’s like a dream come true for him. but, despite how many times you start on top, it always ends with him snapping his hips up into you or flipping you over and finishing what you started.

older!dean loves it when he gets to see just how much bigger he is than you. when he can hold your waist and his hand seems to just dwarf you, or when he has you in his lap and his hands cover your hips completely. he especially loves watching as he takes you, and when his large hand wraps around your throat with just enough pressure for you to feel it.

regardless of how vanilla or how insane the sex is, older!dean never misses a second of aftercare. he’s always right there, with either a warm bath or a damp cloth depending on how tired you are. he’ll massage your thighs after they’re spent from riding him or comb out the tangles he made in your hair, whispering sweet nothings to you and holding you like you’re fragile because, to him, you are. even when he’s let you take the reins, he holds you close as you drift off to sleep, pressing gentle kisses on your face and tracing his hand down your back.

[multifamdomfan]

Could we possibly get some appreciation for Frank Zhang's muscles?

Absolutely! I've actually thought about this a lot and already wrote something about this but didn't publish it because I wasn't sure if anyone cares but I'll post it now.

The Frank Zhang Pull-Up Bar

Hazel had always known Frank was strong. She had seen him fight off monsters, lead an army, and, on more than one occasion, lift her like she weighed nothing at all. But lately, his strength had reached new levels. His Roman training had turned him into an absolute tank, and Hazel was not subtle about how much she admired it.

Percy, being Percy, was the first to call her out on it.

"You keep staring," he teased as they stood in the training yard of Camp Jupiter, watching Frank practice with his bow.

Hazel blinked, pretending she hadn't just been admiring the way Frank's arms flexed as he pulled back the string. "I do not."

"You so do," Percy said. "And honestly? I get it. I mean, look at those things. The guy could probably bench-press a centaur at this point."

Frank, oblivious to their conversation, had just finished his round of archery practice when Percy called out, "Hey, Zhang! How much weight do you think you can hold?"

Frank turned, frowning. "Uh. I don't know? Why?"

Hazel suddenly had a brilliant idea. "I bet you could hold both of us."

Frank looked startled. "Hold you how?"

Percy grinned. "Like a pull-up bar."

Frank blinked. "You want to—what?"

"You've got huge arms," Hazel said matter-of-factly. "We could totally do pull-ups on them."

Frank's face turned red. "That—that's not how arms work!"

Percy, ignoring him, had already moved into position. "C'mon, Zhang, don't be shy. Just hold them out like this—" He raised his own arms to demonstrate. "We'll grab on and see if we can do a couple of pull-ups. Easy."

Hazel clasped her hands together. "Please, Frank?"

Frank sighed, knowing there was no winning when Hazel looked at him like that. "Fine," he grumbled, extending both arms.

Hazel grabbed onto one. Percy took the other.

"Alright, on three," Percy said. "One, two—"

They both pulled up at the same time. To their surprise—and Frank’s—he barely wobbled.

Hazel let out a delighted laugh as she did a second pull-up. "Frank, you're amazing!"

"Yeah, dude," Percy said between breaths. "You're basically a living gym."

Frank, now fully red-faced, mumbled, "This is the weirdest compliment I've ever gotten."

Hazel, still hanging onto him, just smiled. "Get used to it, big guy."

Frank Zhang was used to being strong. He’d spent enough time training at Camp Jupiter to build muscle, and as a son of Mars, strength came with the territory. But he wasn’t used to people treating him like actual gym equipment.

And yet, here he was.

Percy and Hazel were hanging off of him like he was a pull-up bar, and worst of all? He was holding them up without even trying.

“This is ridiculous,” Frank muttered, though he didn’t actually put them down.

Hazel, still gripping his arm, beamed at him. “It’s impressive.”

Percy, hanging from Frank’s other arm, was grinning like an idiot. “Dude, you are literally the best workout equipment ever. We could start a whole new training regimen at Camp Jupiter. ‘Zhang-ercise.’”

Frank groaned. “You’re both insane.”

Hazel easily pulled herself up again, her braid swinging behind her. “Come on, Frank, just admit it—you’re ridiculously strong.”

Frank’s ears turned pink. “I mean, I guess—”

Percy tried to do another pull-up but wobbled slightly, adjusting his grip. “Okay, okay—serious question—if I shift my weight, can you still hold me?”

Before Frank could protest, Percy swung slightly to one side, putting all his weight on one arm. Frank, to his own surprise, barely felt it.

Hazel’s eyes widened. “Oh my gods, Frank! You’re not even shaking.”

“What is happening right now?” Frank muttered.

Percy cackled. “This is amazing. You’re, like, unmovable.”

Hazel, still clutching Frank’s arm, looked so proud of him that Frank felt like he might actually melt. “I always knew you were strong, but this?” She squeezed his bicep for emphasis. “This is next level.”

Frank, still holding them both like they weighed nothing, felt his entire face heat up. “I—uh—” He cleared his throat. “I’m just… glad you guys are having fun?”

Percy let go, dropping to the ground and shaking out his arms. “Okay, ten out of ten experience. I give ‘Frank Zhang, the Human Pull-Up Bar’ a perfect score.”

Hazel dropped down too, but instead of stepping back, she leaned up and kissed Frank on the cheek. “I give it eleven out of ten.”

Frank nearly forgot how to breathe.

Percy, watching this unfold, snickered. “Dude, your face is so red right now.”

Frank groaned and covered his face with his hands. “This is the worst.”

Hazel just laughed, slipping her hand into his. “No, Frank. You’re the best.”

[edsbacktattoo]

can’t believe i missed it. happy belated birthday to my first born!

they grow up so fast 🥹

[deadhaven]

Especially the lies.

[kitsunesakii]

Two is Better than one

I went wild with this one :D

Chapter six

Sasha entered her apartment with the quiet click of the front door. She tossed her backpack onto the chair in the kitchen and started a cup of tea. A clatter from the adjacent room caught her attention. She frowned slightly before peeking her head into the other room.

It took her a moment to process the scene before her eyes.

Micheal was sitting on her living room floor, long fingers carefully curling through the fur of a content cat purring below him. She noted a secondary feline to the left, pawing at a strand of long spindly blonde hair. He glanced at her lazily, tipping his head to the side and humming.

There was only one thing wrong with this picture. Sasha didn't own pets.

"Micheal-what?"

His smile widened. "Hello my dear."

She gestured to the cat now rolling onto its back as Micheal petted its belly. "Where did these come from?"

He looked over at the one still playing with his hair. "They followed someone into my corridors. They followed me here."

Right. Sasha shook her head and sat down, the one on its back stretched out before moving towards her curiously, it had orange hair like a tabby. She pet it and it purred in response.

"Micheal."

"Sasha."

"I don't have the stuff for these guys. I barely have the room, you don't really expect me too-" Her words were cut short as she watched the grey one tangled in Micheal's hair sound out a small mewl as Micheal tenderly picked it up in its hands with too much bone and fingers that stretched too far across. The cat didn't seem to mind.

Micheal hummed as he watched the cat in his arms twist and curl, purring contently as if Micheal wasn't a terrifying monster. Sasha dared to smile.

"I believe, if I remember correctly, these creatures need food, water." He chimed lightly. Sasha rolled her eyes.

"Fine. There's a store down the way from here. They have pet supplies." Sasha sighed as she stood to her feet. "And they are cats, Micheal."

He didn't so much as stand to his feet, rather a blur of motion and colors that stretched out and scattered like sand before he was standing in front of her. "Cats. Yes."

She grabbed her bag and walked towards the door, stopping when she realized Micheal was following her.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you of course." He giggled, "silly question."

"Right." Sasha smiled, "This won't end badly at all."

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

The actual trip wasn't horrible.

Besides the fact that every single dog started barking at Micheal which earned them a few curious glances from the staff, they made it out with a sack of cat food, cat litter, and a box. Even more than she had expected, Micheal paid. Handing the cash to the women as Sasha looked at him with such a confused expression she partially believed he did it just to see her reaction. Laughing as they left the store with the supplies. She simply shook her head.

"I think- he had one."

Sasha looked over at him, he looked, well, human. The way his coat sat on his shoulders and down past his boots, his hands wrapped around a bag of cat food. His eyes trained on nothing before looking over at her with a sharp smile.

Sasha frowned. "Who?"

"Micheal. Before-" His words echoed and trailed off.

Sasha understood. "I'm sorry." The words felt stupid in her mouth.

"Do not be, its-" he paused. "It's a nice memory, I am not sorry to have it, amongst the fractals of everything and nothing and the not-in between, it is nice."

Sasha thought about her question a moment before asking. "What's it like?"

"What?"

"The...what you said about the fractals and the nothingness, delusion...what's it like?"

"It Is Not What It Is and it is a part of me" he said it like a broken tune from some forgotten nursery rhyme. "It is madness- throaty, hollow, the depths of doubt- madness that stirs in the mind. It is not a physicality, but, within it, there is a certain…” He paused. “Ah! Beauty. Like a fine piece of decoration in a mundane hallway." Micheal laughed long and hard as they approached her building.

"You say it's beautiful?"

He giggled and shook his head. "You tell me, my dear, what with your It Knows You, all that knowledge will never satisfy, never relief, you see all and yet-" They entered her house to the two cats scratching up her couch and seemingly content with life. “Madness floods the senses and dilutes the mind, leaving it clear. It changes perception, blinds reality. It's a song sung with all the wrong notes and the wrong tune but it is beautiful nonetheless.” He sat the bag on the kitchen table and she prepared two bowls.

��A broken melody is still broken.”

“Ah, but only you would know if it's broken.”

Sasha paused and stared at him. He was crouched down, pouring the food into the bowl she had provided. It got everywhere and he giggled. Letting out a hummed “oops.” Before moving a long finger to scatter the dropped food even further. His hair cascaded around his shoulders and swept across the floor, the grey cat already taking interest in his dubbed playtoy.

She understood what he meant. And maybe there was a relieving beauty to it. Someone’s only lost if they themselves don’t know how to get to their destination. But if someone is simply wandering, well. There could be a comfort to that. Ignorance is bliss after all. A buzz of muddled headspace that someone looks for within drugs or alcohol. A weight lifted from the mind as it's consumed by something that isn’t tangible.

“Do you understand?” He looked back at her, the pieces of food that had missed the bowl now nowhere to be seen. The two cats had taken an interest in the food and water and were quick to indulge themselves. She looked into Micheal’s eyes, the swirling spirals that seemed to impossibly dilate as he looked at her. He seemed softer, somehow. All folded up and crouched on her floor seemingly as protection to the felines happily eating away. His sweater changed and morphed in color and she half wondered where his coat went. His scarf was wound around his neck and seemed to move like a snake, continually curling over his shoulders. Twisting and bending and pulling in every direction. He was an enigma to look at. Madness. An ever shifting idea that barely took shape before it was changing again. Beautiful. She decided.

He was beautiful.

She almost forgot he was waiting for a response. “I understand.” The words didn’t feel nearly enough. Some part of her reminded herself that she was supposed to be scared of this thing that had casually dropped two cats at her feet like it was nothing. This thing that bought the supplies with money she wasn’t sure he was even supposed to have. This thing that had given her a distorted flower that she still had in the living room. This thing that followed her around with a curiosity she couldn’t explain. This thing that had kissed her cheek instead of killing her when she had been in its corridors. She ignored that voice and instead moved to fix the litter box in the washroom.

Not even an hour later she was curled up on the couch petting the tabby as Micheal played with the gray one on the floor not even a foot away.

“What are their names?” She asked him, breaking the silence that seemed to muffle Micheal’s laughter as he let the cat swipe at his long fingers, pulling them away just in time.

“Names are redundant.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll call this one Pumpkin.”

He didn’t look away from the cat, letting it catch his fingers and pull them down to bite playfully. Micheal hardly seemed bothered. “Daisies.”

“The cat? That’s a pretty name.”

“No-” He giggled. “I remembered. I was picking them up.” He drew his hand away and pointed at the mess of lines and colors that had once been a flower, sitting in a jar on the coffee table.

Sasha smiled back. “Daisy it is. Pumpkin and Daisy.”

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

[hellfire--cult]

Actor!Steve Harrington x BFF!Fem!Reader

wc: 15k

Summary: Your best friend asks for a huge favor when an extra calls out a day before filming a scene. A kiss scene. You have never been in front of a camera, unlike him, so you ask if you could practice... and also test the waters because you never kissed your best friend. The man you've been in love with for the past years.

+18, friends to lovers, idiots in love, steve is not that famous yet, lots of friendly banter, reader is a bit self conscious, kissing, smut, p in v (protected), 69, handjob, fingering, a little bit of dirty talking

a/n: this wip has been in my docs for months. I recently got back to it and finished it in just days. It was supposed to just be the smut, but as always, your girl can't help herself. Thank you @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading, god knows that if i do that myself i would just delete it all.

Please reblog. Be kind.

NOT JUST AN EXTRA

“Absolutely fucking NOT!” 

Steve knew you would react like that, it wasn’t a small favor, he also knew that. Your eyes were wide, bewildered, looking at him as if he had grown a second head or a palm tree at the top of it with a monkey dangling from a leaf. He could only sigh as he shook his head at you.

“Come on, you’re gonna get paid, and we’re tight on time to do an audition for this. It’s just a few seconds, ten tops!” You gritted your teeth together as you crossed your arms over your chest. He winced, knowing you were about to increase the tone of your voice. He knows you too well, you aren’t his best friend for nothing.

“Ten seconds! Ten seconds of me being on the big screen for the first time!” You yelled and he closed his eyes and nodded.

“I know, I know–” He opened his eyes to look into yours, pleading, begging. “I– It’s just that small scene. Small, tiny, and we can do it fast.”

He could see how your eyes showed how you wanted to blow him off, but also the tenderness of caring for your best friend. Eyes he always appreciated. Eyes he adored. Eyes he loved with all of his heart. You rubbed your forehead in thought as you looked down at the floor.

“I– Are you sure you can’t get someone else?” You asked and he sighed, shaking his head. Steve’s hope started rising as you deliberated until you finally looked up at him and nodded. “Okay… Okay… Fine.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around your frame, squishing you and lifting you up to twirl you around. You squealed, a giggle escaping your lips, a shenanigan he never stopped doing everytime you did something he was happy about. Since middle school, he twirls you around whenever he is proud, delighted, or you help him with stuff.

You’re put back on your feet, shaking your head as you take a step away from him, a smile on your face, but you notice a nervous chuckle come out of his lips. You frowned because wasn’t he happy? He cleared his throat and nodded once more, looking down at you.

“Alright– I will talk to James to tell him you’ll do it–” And something was not right. He was nervous, you noticed it, so you squinted at him.

“Steve… What’s the scene about?” 

He let a choked laughter out, a fake one, rubbing the back of his head. You felt a certain anger growing inside of you as you looked at how he was reacting. You tilted your head, waiting for him to stop being stupid for a second.

“Um… Well, you see… It’s just– It’s just this small scene–” You glared at your best friend as he kept rambling. You know that when Steve is nervous he rambles… or when he is about to ask for a big, big, HUGE, favor… One you might not like.

“And what is my part in this scene?” You pressed on as he cleared his throat and looked down as he mumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t hear, making you frown. “What did you say?”

“It’s… and well…” You still couldn’t hear him, your irritation only growing each second as you started tapping your foot on the floor. 

“Speak clearly Steve, stop mumbling, or I swear to god–”

“We have to kiss while you pretend to ride me.” 

And your mouth dropped at that as Steve saw how your confused frown turned into one of shock and your whole body froze on the spot. He gulped as he waited for your response, but you were still looking at him as if he had just told you the most shocking news there is to exist. 

He took a deep breath as he looked away for a second, still waiting. He knows he is asking too much. He knows it, he is not stupid, and he knows this was selfish. He is very much aware of how selfish he is, asking you to play this part but–

Steve just wants to kiss you at least once in his life.

While you’re still in front of him, mouth agape, you fail to notice just like you did all these years, how much the man you call your best friend loves you. You have failed to notice. How he looks at you, how he worships you, how he is willing to kill and die for you. How jealous he is of anyone that looks your way, how jealous he was of all the lovers you took, your ex.

And he knows you have failed to see his feelings, and he assumes that you have been unable to see them because you have never seen him in the same light he sees you. So, for once in his life he will take something he always wanted from you. A kiss. A simple kiss. Of course he wanted to do so many other things with you, but a kiss already means the world for Steve.

“I have to do what?” You asked as you stared at him and he took a sharp intake of breath and nodded, wincing as he talked.

“Yeah… That’s why I’m asking you because– It’s kind of an intimate scene, and I don’t really want to kiss a stranger they had to hire at the last minute…” He lied. He did many times before, but he needed the excuse, he just hopes you don’t see through the lie.

You could only stare at him for a few times as you felt your heart wanting to burst out of your chest. You would kiss your best friend. Intimately. Even if fake, you would still kiss him. After all these years of friendship, of shared moments… and after all these years of harboring this burning love and desire you feel for him.

Feelings you had buried, feelings you were managing to leave behind the closer he got to stardom. Knowing you would see him less, that he would start dating another celebrity sooner or later, that he would forget about you and that would give you the freedom to move on, despite feeling completely destroyed.

But you would have been free.

And now, he is giving you this chance. An opportunity you don’t want to miss, but it might just break you. Ruin you for anything and anyone that might come after him. A ten-second kiss, maybe twenty seconds if a second take is required. Perhaps you could fail the scene many times… get him for a whole full minute… 

It’s risky. Your heart is at stake, your feelings are going to be crushed after it, knowing you will never taste his lips again, or have him as close as you did. You shouldn’t. You really fucking shouldn’t but you won’t ever have this chance again.

“Fine.” Your voice was small yet his eyes lit up the moment you agreed. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, almost choking him up but he kept a poker face as best as he could. He forced a smile on his lips as he appeared relieved at your response, but that’s why Steve became an actor.

It’s a smile of happiness yet filled with sadness because Steve Harrington promised himself something if you agreed on this little favor of his—something that would rip a part of him, who he is and has been his whole life.

He would let go of you.

It was time to let this love for you die.

—-----------------------------------------------

You could feel yourself sweating as you scanned the document in your hand. The script. It was just one stupid action line, no words in between, just the description of what was happening in the scene.

Kristoff passionately kisses a random girl at a motel, and she is rubbing herself on him while they sit on the bed. He gets a call and the kiss gets interrupted. He excuses himself and leaves promptly.

“Seriously… random girl. That’s my name.” You scoffed as you threw the script on the bed while Steve sat cross-legged, at the feet of the bed. He looked at you over his glasses and he put down his own papers as he sighed.

“Well, it is just a random scene to reveal my character’s personality at the beginning of the movie.” He softly replies to you and you sigh, leaning against the headboard behind your head. You were at his loft in New York City—one that gladly remains hidden from the fans, and paparazzi.

“So your character is a playboy.” You smile at him and he huffs, shaking his head at you with a smile on his face.

“Yes, but then it is revealed–”

“Yeah, the trauma, the unloved boy, blah blah blah–” Your voice became muffled with an ‘oof’ as your face was squashed by a pillow being thrown at your face. You groaned as you pulled it off only to see Steve chuckling at you, biting his bottom lip that only made you gulp the nerves you didn’t know you were holding in your throat.

“Shut up. I mean… Mouse, this could be it. The one movie that will… skyrocket me to higher opportunities.” His smile faded slightly as your face softened… and your heart slowly broke. You knew this movie was going to be good, and you knew this was going to be the chance for his career to take off. 

Your time with him now is limited. Once this movie is out, you know the internet will go crazy over him. Fans will increase, paparazzis will be more insufferable, more interviews, more articles, more shows– And where do you fit in all that?

“I know… And it will be a hit, I just know it.” Your eyes went back to the script and you got hold of it again, pretending to scan over the words just so you wouldn’t look at him, just so you wouldn’t feel like you’re already losing him. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he licked his lips and tilted his head.

“How do you know?” He asked and you didn’t look up at him as you shrugged, letting your heart speak your truth. He was still your best friend, and the love you feel for him is still unconditional, and the words you say are honest.

“Because it’s you Steve. You are really good at what you do, and I know you will nail this role and all the ones that will be presented to you.” If only you would have raised your head, you would have noticed how his eyes were looking at you. 

Devoted. Whipped. Destroyed.

He gulped once more as he scanned you, and then he looked at the clock. It was getting late, but the scene was the next day and he doesn’t know if he should ask but–

“Hey, mouse–” But you interrupted him as realization struck you. Nerves ran all over your body, creating goosebumps, and then– fear.

“Steve… How do you kiss in movies?” He blinked a few times, and he shook his head a bit to center again as he grew confused at your question.

“Huh?” You felt your whole body beating, not only your heart. You never did this, not even on a stage. You never faked kissing before, you never acted it out. 

“You heard me! I mean, is it just lips? Pecks? Tongue? Do you fake the tongue? Do you not? Do you move a lot, or just a little? How do you know if you are overdoing it? Or what if you are not doing it naturally?” His eyes were wide as he listened to your outburst. You looked nervous, flushed, jittery… cute.

“Mouse, you need to calm down–”

“Calm–? Calm down!? You have kissed thousands of times on screen, this is my first time Steve!” His heart softened as he heard you, noticing your distress and how you scanned the line on the script over and over. His heart started picking up a pace as he felt the anticipation for what he was going to propose. 

“Well… the basic theory is to know what the scene is about… This one in particular, since it’s just the foreplay for sex, it can be just– lips moving rapidly, and maybe some tongue… It just comes naturally.” Your mouth fell agape as you stared at your best friend. He was being too casual about it, but of course he would be, this is his job and for you, it’s a world-shattering event.

“You say it as if it were the simplest of things Steve. I– Fuck, I shouldn’t have agreed, I’m gonna be so fucking awkward–” You put the script down, running your hands through your hair and Steve bit his bottom lip, not knowing if what he will say next would give him away, or if you are going to run off.

“We… I mean…” He stuttered, once again. Mumbling because of nervousness. You sighed and looked at him as he looked at his hands, playing with the ring that he still holds onto on his left index finger. One you bought for him when he graduated high school, while he gifted the matching one that resides on your right index finger.

“What?” You asked and he cleared his throat, looking up at you over his glasses, a nervous cough coming out of his lips as he tried to sound professional and not desperate.

“We can always practice.” Your eyes were looking at him as if he was the craziest man alive, but it was just because you were in shock. This means you would have two opportunities to kiss him. Today, and tomorrow when in front of the cameras. But– You can’t accept too quickly, even if you are excited, and giddy, and want to answer yes immediately–

“Practice? Like– Kissing?” He took a deep breath and nodded, hoping you would accept, hoping you would let him kiss you twice in his life, and he knew that he might be a little pathetic in his way of getting a kiss from you, but he didn’t want to lose you completely by confessing to you. He wanted to keep you in his life, even if you were his demise.

“Yeah. I can tell you when it is overdoing it and when it’s not.” He felt his mouth go dry as you looked away towards the sunset that was shining through his window. He inspected your profile, your beautiful profile. Your lips puckering out in thought, the expanse of your neck, your collarbone that peeked out of the V-collar of your T-Shirt. 

His heart was punching his chest open as his eyes kept moving, not being able to contain himself. Not being able to contain his thoughts from running wild at the thought of touching your lips for the first time. What it could be, what it could lead to… and it was probably just you scrunching your nose at the thought of kissing him.

“You… Don’t mind kissing me?” You still weren’t looking at him, not daring to look at his eyes, getting ready for when he tells you that it’s just work and that it means nothing. Not the way it does to you.

“Mouse, you are fucking beautiful. Of course I don’t mind.” And you didn’t expect that from him at all, and in all honesty, he didn’t even process the words coming out of his mouth just now, but they weren’t any less true. Your eyes slowly found his as your head turned to face him. The orange hues of the sunset hit his irises just right, making his brown eyes turn hazel, clear, and honey-like.

His freckles are basically sparkling at you right now, contrasting with the light, and his short stubble shining as well. He looks so beautiful. Just like that summer all those years ago, the summer you realized you were in love with him. He had only offered you some ice cream, and the sun was just like the one shining through the window right now. He was smiling, younger, and boyish.

And now, he is a man. Your best friend is a man.

“I’m happy to know you won’t vomit on my face the moment you kiss me then.” You giggled, trying to loosen the tension, to loosen your nerves a little bit as you tried to act as his best friend, the way you’ve always been. Maybe you should become an actress as well. He scoffed at you with a shake of his head and then he looked down at his hands, those big hands that grew from one day to another in your freshman year.

“And what about you? You gonna vomit on my face?” His voice was lower than before, and you licked your lips as you felt your body flushing. You suddenly felt smaller, and girlier, and you didn’t know why. 

“N-No. I’ll try to not repeat what happened when we were twelve.” He laughed at your words and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory, even if it was disgusting. He was spinning you around after you beat him in a hot dog-eating competition. He was happy you won, but he didn’t believe you when you told him you were feeling sick.

“That was on me. I deserved that.” His eyes found yours again and his smile faded slightly as he scanned your face. “So? Should we–”

“A peck.” You quickly responded and you wanted to curse at yourself. He tilted his head, confused and you cleared your throat, lifting yourself from the headboard to sit straighter, copying him as you crossed your legs underneath your body. “We um… should start with a peck. I mean… it’s like… uncharted territory. Kissing your best friend and all…” 

He felt his body sweat as he thought of just grazing your lips and he knew you were being cautious. If it’s too weird for you, you’re going to back out, that’s why you are asking for this. Trial and error. He always wanted to kiss you, even imagined you in the most obscene of positions, but– you haven’t with him. You were still looking at your best friend, the twelve-year-old boy who threw a slug over your head.

“Yeah. Let’s try that.” He moved the script away as he scooted closer to you. You straightened up the moment his knees hit yours, both of you still cross legged, just like you two always sat when telling eachother stuff, or gossip. Your heart felt like it was about to burst, but you had to act as if this meant nothing. As if this didn’t phase every single cell of your body.

You licked your lips in anticipation as you rested your palms on top of your knees. His hands slowly pressed on top of yours as he looked at you over his glasses. Your eyes gazed at his lips momentarily and his eyes did the same with yours. Years of oblivious pining over one another, and you two didn’t know it, didn’t notice it, because you’re two idiots. 

Belittling yourselves, thinking you two aren’t right for eachother, not good enough, or not even eachother’s types. You didn’t see what everyone else saw. How everyone bet behind your backs to see when you two would get together. When Steve would succumb and drop to one knee, or when you would simply profess your love for him. 

Yes, two oblivious idiots.

He leaned in, squeezing your hands for you to do the exact same, as if reassuring you it was alright. You followed his pace, leaning forward to meet him in the middle. You closed your eyes but he didn’t, wanting to burn the image to memory. He wanted to remember your eyelashes, the moment they fluttered shut, your breath hitting his lips, and then finally, his lips clashing with yours.

He closed his eyes then, so he could focus on the kiss. You knew your heart stopped in this second, in this small yet eternal second. Or two. Maybe three. You felt as if you were being lifted off the ground, clouds gathering around you, and you felt lightweight. A cold sweat invaded his body, or was it warm? He didn’t know, he just felt as if water washed all over him.

He tried to calm down, knowing his blush would show if he didn’t. He pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes again. You blinked a few times, zoned out, and you straightened up as you realized you were acting nervous, or, rather the opposite. You were happy, or floaty. You gulped as you cleared your throat, trying to sound normal, or as normal as one could.

“That… wasn’t as weird as I thought it might be.” And he was relieved to hear that, yet also disappointed by the fact you thought it would be weird at all. He didn’t know it was just you playing the part. You wanted to lick your lips to see if you could taste him even further, but you knew that was to come now. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t.” His voice was lower than before, and there was a certain shift you felt in the air. Something that unconsciously was making your pulse go faster. He said it with… a certain tone that you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. He cleared his throat and tilted his head at you. “Ready to experience my amazing, expert, professional lips?”

You giggled, yes, out of nervousness, and trying to mask the fear, or the excitement. You shook your head as you looked at him.

“Oh please, we both know I kiss better.” You smirk proudly at him and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Eddie’s not the best to judge it.” You scoffed at that, squinting your eyes at him. You remember that night, Steve, you, Eddie, Robin, and Argyle drank in Robin’s room, and Eddie wanted to know who was the best kisser out of all of you. Robin didn’t indulge, but out of the three Eddie got to kiss, he said you were the best kisser. He said you were ‘tender’.

“You can’t keep saying that it’s because he likes women better than men, he is going out with Billy now, so my point still stands.” You sat there proudly, not noticing his fingers were slowly intertwining with yours over your knees. He huffed and then laughed, his head tilting to the side as his voice became low in a whisper, and he slowly leaned in.

“I’ll be the judge of that now Mouse.” It didn’t sound like your best friend talking just now. It sounded like a man talking to a girl he really wanted to kiss. Maybe your imagination is running a little too wild. You need to tell your hope to squash down just a tiny bit, or you will get hurt.

And now came the nerves. What if you overdid it now? What if you did it too roughly or too desperate? You have to calm down and let him lead. You will just follow, that’s all you have to do. You swallowed harshly, your eyes closing as his breath hit your lips, your hands tightening around his.

He could smell your perfume, and he was so nervous. He is nervous about being obvious, because, how does he stop the kiss from becoming real? How does he do it? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t. But he won’t stop even if a gun is pointed at his head right now.

His lips came in contact with yours once again, softly. You held in your breath as he exhaled when you kissed him back, your head pressing forward as well. His lips then smacked against yours as they moved once. You followed his movements, slow, and enticing, and you felt your body heat up instantly as your heart threatened to kill you at any second.

You were touching the stars and Steve was on the moon. He couldn’t believe he was kissing you, even if it was ‘fake’, he couldn’t believe it. You weren’t pulling away in disgust, and that for him is already a win. His lips started moving with more determination, kissing your bottom lip as you kissed his top lip.

The smacking of lips bounced on every wall in the room, and Steve felt the temperature rise inside of him. He could feel your fingers intertwining with his over your knees and all he wanted to do was to slide his hands upwards, slide them beneath the hem of your shorts, touch your skin, grip you, and mark you with his fingernails. 

With every tilt of head you both did in between the kiss, your mind kept sending images of what you wanted to do to him. How you wanted to push him onto the bed and kiss his neck, his freckles, his biceps, the scar on his belly from the time he protected you against a cat that for some reason wanted to kill you. Then you wanted to take him into your mouth, show him how much you grew up. How much of a woman you are. How a woman like yourself could please a man like him.

But your imagination is cut off when you feel him pull away and you open your eyes to see him looking at you already. His pupils were dilated, and he hoped you wouldn’t see them because of his glasses, which were a bit foggy because your nose bumped into them everytime you turned your head to kiss him. 

The tension was palpable around you two, and you wanted more, you needed more. Your breath was a bit quick, and you had to calm down before you gave yourself away. You straightened up once again, clearing your throat. His lips were plumped because of the kiss, and you wanted to kiss them again, but you just raised your eyebrows in question.

“Well?” You asked and Steve was kicked out of his daydreaming as your voice rushed through his ears. He chuckled nervously and nodded, biting his bottom lip in order to keep tasting you.

“Can’t believe Munson was right. You do kiss well.” You were about to give a triumphant ‘Ha’ but he stopped you by raising a hand towards you to shut you up with a smirk to his lips. “But I never kissed myself, so I don’t know if you are a better kisser than me.” 

Your mouth fell open at that, but he was right. You huffed afterwards, and you looked down, seeing your fingers intertwined with his over your knees. You felt your blood rushing through your ears and wanted to keep going. Would you sound desperate if you proposed to keep practicing? Would it give you away?

You pulled your hands away from him and he felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Maybe he overdid it himself? Maybe you did get weirded out? Maybe it wasn’t something you enjoyed at all? Your hands grabbed the script again and he tilted his head, opening his mouth to ask what you were doing but you interrupted him first.

“Um… can we practice with the actual scene?” Oh, your words just sent him to heaven. You would sit on top of his lap. You would be kissing him and rubbing yourself against him– Oh fuck, you would rub yourself against him… or maybe you didn’t? But shit, he was already half hard from the stupid pecks on the lips and the innocent kissing, how is he going to be able to handle this?

And you didn’t have a hard-on to show it off, but you weren’t any less horny than he was. You knew that if you put the least bit of friction on the seam of your shorts and onto your clit, your wetness would sip through. He might notice, but maybe you just pretend to rub yourself? Maybe you just don’t press down?

He felt his veins pulsing, specifically the ones that coursed through his wrists. His fingertips were burning with the idea of being able to hold you the way he’d always wanted to do. His eyes traveled over your body until you looked up at him when you received no answer to your question. He gathered himself and nodded with a shrug.

“Sure…” He gulped as he threw the script to the floor and moved on the bed, his shirt riding up as he crawled and sat next to you. He pressed his back against the headboard and straightened his legs to lay flat on the bed. He patted his lap with an innocent smile on his lips which only made your heart stop. “Hop on.”

You pretended to be annoyed by him, rolling your eyes, pretending you weren’t about to pass out right then and there. You uncrossed your legs and moved to throw one knee over his lap, landing next to his hip. Your eyes connected with his as you hovered over him, not wanting to press down.

“Um… should I…–” Your words were small, not really knowing what to do with your posture. His hands hesitantly grabbed your hips and guided you to sit on his thighs, avoiding his crotch. He hissed inwardly when you brushed over it for a split second, cursing at himself for how sensitive he was right now.

“There. Tomorrow they will ask us to do crotch to crotch though. The camera angle will move from the hips, towards our profiles.” You could feel your face catch on fire at the mere thought of rubbing yourself against Steve. He smiled reassuringly at you, his hands moving to your waist. “It’ll be fine. I’m a professional, you know that.”

“That does nothing to calm my nerves.” You rolled your eyes and he squeezed you slightly as you adjusted yourself on his thighs. You cursed inwardly when the seam of your shorts rubbed on you by accident, right on your clit. “What if you pop a boner for me, huh?” 

“And what if you get dripping wet for me Mouse? I can’t see it but it can happen.” His words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he felt himself combust. He felt as if he were on literal fire. Your eyes locked with his over his glasses and you didn’t know how to react to it. He was right, but– is this something normal best friends say to eachother? You broke the tension by clearing your throat.

“You are too sure of yourself.” You saw how his tongue darted out to lick his lips for a second and you took a deep breath in as he pointed to the floor next to the bed.

“It will move from here–” and he moved his hand, passing over the end of the bed, over your thighs, both of your hips and then up towards your profiles, his fingers wiggling on the side of your face, “– to here.” 

“Got it… So…”

“Follow my lead, mouse.” You gulped the lump you were holding back as the butterflies in your stomach exploded, burst into flames, or they set an atomic bomb in there as he leaned close. His hands squeezed your hips as yours grabbed his shoulders. His nerves were a definite match with yours, completely out of control, berserk, but he was the professional here, he could pretend, even if it would leave a bad aftertaste.

His lips found yours again, making your breath hitch slightly, but you kissed back just like you have before. The seam on your shorts was pressing against you and now you really wondered if your wetness would sip through. What if it did and he felt it? You were far from his pelvic area, and you didn’t want to be obvious in looking down at it to check if he was as afflicted as you were.

Your lips moved together, your heart jumping in your chest while he was already bungee jumping off the empire state building. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, making him hum in the kiss and slowly pull away, making you open your eyes to look at what you had done wrong. He was smiling softly at you, his eyes darting to his right shoulder for a second.

“If you grab at me like that, your nervousness will show. Let your hands roam. Wrap your arms, or your hands can go through my hair.” He was being straightforward, but he was desperate for you to relax. He was desperate to feel as if this were real, to feel you close once and for all, to feel you against him and for your nails to rake into his hair. 

You slowly nodded, trying not to feel your entire body burning at the prospect of messing your best friend’s hair with your fingers. You took a deep breath in as you stretched your fingers over his shoulders and gave him a nod. His eyes darted to your lips again before leaning back in, kissing you once more.

You let your hands rub his shoulders, and you thought that, if this had to be as natural as possible, then you should just kiss him the way you always wanted to. If it is too much, you can just play it out that this is how you normally kiss. Giving yourself one last push of encouragement, you moved your lips against him, your hands moving to the back of his neck and then up into his hair. You have played with Steve’s hair many times before, but never in this manner. You want to pull on it, you want to rub yourself on him, but you have to keep yourself in check before you give your true intentions away too easily.

Steve on the other hand, he was being way too cautious and you were driving him fucking insane. He doesn’t know how he is capable of holding himself back but he is trying, and finding himself slowly failing at each scratch you do on his head. It was more than he bargained for, and now he is paying the consequences of it. He could smell your perfume, taste the cherry flavored chapstick you were wearing, the feel of your bare thighs under his hands as he rubbed on them, slowly, pretending this is how he is going to move for the shot of the next day.

Was it okay for him to have some hope by the way you were kissing him? Was it okay for him to just fuck this game and kiss you for real? Was it okay for him to think you felt affected as he was? For a while? All this time?

So maybe he just needs to take this chance. If you pull away, he can pretend he is used to doing his kisses a bit harsher, or something, he can do it, but he needs you. He fucking needs to feel your tongue on his. He turned his head and poked your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Your body flinched but he felt your body roll slightly against him, sending him into a mess of nerves and excitement when you opened your mouth for him. 

And when you felt his tongue going into your mouth to dance with yours, you knew you were gone. You are going to do what you always wanted to do, and for some reason, and it might be the temperature of the room or maybe his own body heat, but you think Steve might be feeling the same way you are doing right now. You could feel it in the way you have his hand running up towards your hips, the tips of his fingers going under the hem of your shirt, just a little bit.

So, you take the leap as well. 

You wiggled a little closer to his crotch, pretending to move to sit more comfortably, and that’s when you felt him. He groaned into the kiss the moment you rubbed yourself, slightly, over him. You weren’t fully seated on him, but you knew he was hard and was that a sign that this was okay? That this was something you both wanted? 

His tongue moved against yours, both of your heads turning as you kept kissing, rubbing, touching, not even noticing that minutes had passed, when the scene was only going to be ten seconds. Then, he suddenly pulled away, breathless, and you feared for the most until he spoke in a hoarse voice.

“Closer.” And you only nodded, his hands helping you move to fully sit on him, your chest against his, and you couldn’t even gasp that his lips were on yours again the moment his bulge came in full contact between your legs. 

He was letting himself be guided by his lust and his love for you. He couldn’t let you go, not when you are giving him all the green lights there are. You could have questioned him just now, told him no, that it was too much, but you just nodded and followed with nothing to say. He hoped he wasn’t misunderstanding anything, but fuck, you were rubbing against him. You could fully feel his hard on and instead of shying away, or jumping up in disgust, you were rubbing yourself even more against him.

His hands travelled upwards, going underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers touching your bare waist, sending shivers down your spine, the butterflies multiplying in your belly as the heat he radiates from his fingertips travels into your body. You could smell his cologne, the distinctive scent he’s been carrying for years now, one you detect the minute he crosses a door and into a room. 

Your breaths are heavy against eachother as you keep kissing, desperately, eating one another like you’ve always wanted to do to one another. His glasses hit you every once in a while at each turn of head, and the more you sway your hips against him, the more you forget the fact that this was supposed to be practice. He wasn’t supposed to be into it the way he is, and maybe… 

You slowly pull away from him, noses still touching, lips still brushing, breaths mingling with one another’s and you manage a small whisper towards him.

“Are we still practicing, Steve?” And that made him open his eyes to find yours. Their eyes, clouded with lust, desire, love, tenderness, and pent-up feelings, met. Feelings that can be talked and discussed later on. He pulled his head back and with a swift movement, you were now facing the ceiling as he got on top of you, settling between your legs. He ripped the glasses off his face and threw them god knows where as he planted his hands on each side of your body and leaned down, his eyes dark and determined, something you never thought would be directed your way.

“Like hell we are.” And you burst in happiness as his lips crashed with yours again. He could be just thinking of where to stick his dick in right now, but you’ll take it. This is being done rationally, sober, with complete consciousness. Your tongues met again, your hips clashed, and he began rutting into you, his bulge hitting your clit perfectly now at every thrust.

You let yourself moan into his mouth as your hands ran through his hair, your legs spreading even more for him to rut harder and he touched heaven the moment he heard your sweet voice react to him like that. You were accepting him, encouraging him and he couldn’t be more grateful to whatever god has heard him. He groaned into your mouth as a particular thrust sent a wave of heat all over his body, feeling himself twitch in his pants, and he knew his boxers were already stained with precum. 

He wasn’t going to last, and if he keeps rutting himself into you, he is going to blow his load in three minutes or less. He has been waiting for this moment for far too long, just as much as you have. Your belly was already burning with his dry humping, and it was becoming harder to hold your noises back.

He moved to rest on his elbows so he could move his right hand downwards, underneath the hem of your shirt. You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt his fingertips grace your belly, and then went upwards, touching the soft cotton of your plain bra. You weren’t expecting anything today, and now you were wondering if he would think you are too common for him. Not extravagant enough. Yet all doubts were thrown out the window when he pulled away, his lips pressing to the side of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw, and his voice mumbled into the skin of your neck before he started kissing it.

“You’re so beautiful, fuck– Tell me you want this Mouse, that you wanted this as much as I have…” Your breathing was jagged as he started sucking, licking, kissing your neck. You gasped when he hit your pulse point and pressed his tongue on it, making you press your hips upwards and into him. He just confessed to you he wanted you. He has wanted you for a while from what you could decipher, but questions could come later. 

“Yes– God, Stevie, yes–” No turning back now. The friendship was ruined, passed onto a better life. He hummed in delight into your skin, finally daring to move his hand to cup your breast. He couldn’t believe how dumb and blind he was. You wanted him. How did he not see it? Maybe he wasn’t the only actor between the two of you.

Your back arched against him as you felt him grope your breast, rub on it with his big hands. Hands you couldn’t stop staring at everytime he took notes down on his scripts or on his agenda. You had mentioned to him before his hands were ridiculously large, which only made him joke to you about how he never got any complaints about them. You have touched yourself to thoughts of those hands on you and now you get to live it. 

He sucked onto your skin, ready to mark you up finally, make you his. You were not pushing him away from it, or denying him from doing so, so that was a great sign for him. Your mouth was open as one hand was still tangled in his hair, the other dragging your nails on his back. You were letting out small sounds, little huffs, but then you felt his fingers go underneath the elastic of your bra, finally cupping your breast completely bare. He moaned into your skin when he felt your nipple perk up against his palm, and he immediately got it in between his fingers and pinched.

You let out your first loud moan of the night and that made him thrust into you quite desperately. He was going to cum in his pants. He can’t have that. He pulled away from your neck, sitting up and ripping his hand away from you, making you pout slightly. He smirked at how fucked you looked already, and all thanks to him. He crossed his arms in front of him and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one movement, his hair now more disheveled than what your fingers had done to it. 

You were flushed all over as you looked at him, his arms, his chest, his abdomen… his fucking chest hair. That chest hair that sprouted out of nowhere from one summer to the other and it completely made your hormones go a little crazy. 

“Am I going to be the only one getting undressed here?” He asked as a joke, yet not entirely. It was one last chance for you to step out. For you to go back to what you two were minutes before. You licked your lips as you sat up, taking your shirt off in front of him and throwing it away just like he did. He was still kneeling up in between your legs, staring down at you as if you had hung the stars for him. And that you did.

“Don’t be a crybaby.” Your voice was teasing and small, showing how nervous you were. You couldn’t help it. Steve had other experiences now, and you wondered if you could really compare at all. He gulped as his eyes ran over your chest, and he has seen you in your bra before. But those times cannot compare to what this means right now, because that bra will be taken off in, what he hopes, a few seconds.

He ran a hand through his hair as your hands ran over his chest, inspecting him, experiencing him. He moved his free hand to hold your cheek and make you look up at him. Your eyes were glossed over and he couldn’t stop himself that he was already leaning to take your lips with his as his other hand went to your back and touched the clasp of your bra, which made you jump slightly. He immediately pulled away, looking at you, his nose still bumping into yours.

“You okay?” How do you explain that you jumped because of your excitement and happiness? Of how sensitive you were because all your senses were heightened up because of him. How do you not sound in love? 

“Yeah, just got surprised, that’s all…” You gave him a peck of reassurance and he hummed into your lips, his hand moving to the clasp of your bra once again and in one swift movement of fingers, it snapped open. A pang of jealousy and anger hit you for just a few seconds until he pulled away from you, his hands grabbing both straps of your bra, his eyes glued to your breasts as he sat back, taking your bra with him.

And, well, Steve is staring. His breathing ragged as you saw how he dropped the bra on the bed, his eyes going left and right, not knowing in which one to focus on. He never saw your bare breasts before and now that he does–

“They’re so fucking perfect Mouse… You’re so perfect for me, jesus christ–” You couldn’t even process his words that he was making you lay back on the bed again, his body over yours and his mouth came in contact with your collarbone as his left hand held the back of your neck and the other your waist.

You sighed in pleasure when his kisses started moving downwards towards your chest, then moving to the right. The left hand moved from the back of your neck to rest on your right breast, nipple immediately fitting between his fingers. You were about to arch your back at the feeling, only for another sensation to override it. His lips on your left nipple. 

“Steve–” You gasped as your back arched towards him, your hands flying to his head, running your fingers through his hair to pull him even more into you. He loved his name on your mouth like this… And he wanted to hear you scream it. Cry it. Breaking through your vocal cords as he made you come undone.

His lips moved on your right nipple, sucking on it as he pinched the left one. He looked upwards to see you, his hair blocking his view a bit, but he saw how your head was thrown back on the pillow, mouth open as little breaths left it. He hummed into your breast and then he got the nipple between his teeth, and softly pulled on it, inflicting a bit on pain on you to taste the waters and–

This moan was your loudest yet.

“Oh, you didn’t lie when you said you might be a masochist.” And he remembers that conversation. A drunken night where he almost kissed you. You two talked about your sex lives but never in detail, that is, until you asked him if you were a masochist because you liked being spanked and choked, to which his response was, ‘yes’. Since that night, he had very graphic dreams that had you as their protagonist. The dreams were sweet and domestic before, and then, after that… they were pure filth.

“You remember that?” You ask breathlessly, smiling a bit as you feel him nod as he sucks on your right nipple. “I was embarrassed after saying that… my drunk brain thought it would catch your attention and blurted it out…”

“It did more than catch my fucking attention.” And with that confession, he rubbed his hips against you once more, proving his point as you felt his hard bulge still intact, if not, harder than before. You moaned as he tugged on your nipple one last time before changing places, giving the same attention to the left one as his hand kept grabbing your breast there.

“Oh, does it mean you’ve been having some dirty thoughts about me, Stevie?”

“Thoughts?” He chuckled against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he pulled away to look at you after giving a bite to the round of your breast. “Try dreams. Lots of them.”

The confessions kept pouring out, realizing this was more than just attraction. Both of you now know this goes beyond physical. Beyond wanting to try it out with your best friend. Beyond trying a new experience.

“What did I do in those dreams?” And you saw his face flush, leaving him speechless finally as you looked up at him. You bit your bottom lip as you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him to the side, rolling on top of him as soon as his back hit the bed. Your legs now straddled him, hips pressing against him, provoking a groan out of his lips. 

“You were like this in one of those, certainly.” Your ears couldn’t be happier to hear that. You couldn’t contain the smile that spread on your lips as you imagined Steve waking up sweaty to a fantasy he dreamt where you were the main lead. 

“Hmm…” And your eyes went down, looking at his belt. You gave yourself a mental pat on the shoulder for encouragement as you decided you wanted to engrave yourself into his memory. “What about this?”

His eyebrows met in the middle as you moved from his pelvic area to rest on his thighs. Only then his eyes widened, when your fingers unbuckled his belt, then undid the button of his jeans and pulled the zipper down. He twitched only by the grace of your fingers over the expanse of his bulge. Oh, fuck.

You were biting your bottom lip with need as your fingers hooked in the hem of his pants and boxers. You were going to do it. You were going to cross the line. A line you were terrified of since the moment you discovered you felt physically attracted to him. One thing is to be only feeling something emotional over someone, but once you start having physical attraction to them, you know a line is suddenly drawn between the two of you.

His breathing hitched in his throat as you started pulling his clothes down. He raises his hips up in order to help you, the nerves flying all over his body, a bit of self consciousness running through his veins as he looks at the ceiling, wondering if you would think it’s weird, or too much, or too little. He never received any complaints but, who knows? This was you. He had to be perfect for you. 

But he couldn’t be more wrong. The moment he came out from his boxers, his shaft slapping on his belly as it bounced out, and your mouth fell open. You– You knew Steve could be big. You’ve ogled him, multiple times. In his gym shorts, in his swimming trunks, in his underwear whenever he was getting ready in front of you, and you caught sight of it having a little hard on just very few times. Your imagination gave it no justice.

“What the hell Steve…”

“What– What’s wrong?” His eyes found your face which was locked on his cock, and worry filled his brain as he thought you were looking at him in disgust or something. But, actually, your mouth was salivating. You were put in automatic pilot as you shuffled downwards, your thighs now straddling his shins. 

Your hands rubbed on his inner thighs, making him choke on his breath, and you saw how his shaft twitched at your touch. You clenched around nothing as you anticipated how he would sound with your lips wrapped around him. Fantasies of him moaning your name as you showed him just how much you wanted him, now, about to become a reality. 

Your upper body bent down, his eyes widening when he saw you let a blob of spit fall from your lips and onto the tip of his cock. He saw how it dribbled down his shaft and before he could stop you, your hand wrapped around him. He sighed instantly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he gripped the sheets beneath him. Fuck– Fuck, how can he stop you now? 

“You’re so big…” Your voice was sultry, low, filled with pure lust and he noticed it. You were talking to his dick, not him. All his worry about how it looked was thrown out the window, but when you started moving your hand up and down on him, slowly, another worry filled him, and that was that he was going to cum in just a few strokes if he didn't concentrate.

“Baby–” He called out your name, but then he felt your thumb press onto the tip and then pass it on his frenulum which sent a jolt of electricity all over his body. “– Oh god.”

You were relishing in his sounds. You looked up to see his head thrown back, the veins and freckles on his neck being the stars of the show for you. He looked so good right now and you were flushing all over just by giving him pleasure. You looked back down, and your body went downwards just a little bit more, and you lolled your tongue out. A growl was torn out of him as you licked his tip, slotting it right into his slit before kissing it.

You were sucking him off. You were going to suck him off and oh my god, he is going to die. Or he is already dead and gone to heaven. He sighed in delight as he felt your mouth engulf the head of his cock. Your pretty cherry-flavored lips that will now have his taste, smearing your spit all over him. You hummed in delight as you went further and he had to grip onto the sheets as he closed his eyes, taking his mind far away so he wouldn’t blow his load right now.

You could hear his grunts, how he was holding himself back as your left hand was on his hip for leverage while the right one helped you engulf the places your mouth couldn’t reach. You let your mouth salivate around him as you started bobbing your head up and down, slowly, slightly twirling your head from side to side, while your right hand jerked him up everytime your mouth went up.

“Oh– Fuck–” He drapped an arm over his eyes as his back arched a little bit off the bed at a specific tongue press along the shaft. You want more of that, you want more of Steve breaking underneath you, so you quicken your movements, just a little bit. His breathing turned heavy and you looked up to see his chest heaving, and you knew he was holding himself back from making noises.

You pulled away with a soft pop, making him take his arm away from his eyes and raise his head to be able to look at you as you kept slowly jerking him off. His cock was right next to your lips as you stared at him.

“Don’t hold your voice back Stevie…” His eyes rolled to the back of his head when you used his nickname in a situation like this. Goddamn, you had him wrapped around your finger. He shook his head as he sighed, his belly flipping at how your thumb slotted itself in the slit of the head of his shaft.

“It’s not that– It’s– I’m not going to last if you keep sucking me off, and to be honest? I want to fuck you stupid, Mouse.” Your mouth fell open at that, suddenly flushed all over at his dirty words, at the dirty talk you never thought would be directed your way. It made him smirk, and an idea popped up in his head. “– But… I do want to taste you as well.” 

You tilted your head as he slowly moved his hands to grab your hand and one touched your cheek. He nodded upwards for you to pull away from him.

“What–”

“Turn around. Shorts and panties off.” You felt your heart in your throat as you gulped, his eyes dark, never leaving your figure as you climbed off the bed in order for you to do as he commanded. As you did that, he took the opportunity to take the rest of his pants and boxers off, throwing them to the side. You bit your lip as you pulled the button in your shorts open and then pulled the zipper down. 

You would be completely naked to him right now. You two would finally cross the line, completely. He would see you in all your glory just as how you just sucked his. You had to stop overthinking this. You had to. He wants you. You want him. And you could see how he was biting his bottom lip, how he was expecting this, how desperate he was to see you naked for the very first time.

So, defeating your nerves, you slowly pushed your shorts and panties down, not wanting to show the bland cotton panties to him, but you made a show of sticking your ass out a bit as you swayed your hips to take off your clothes. His head rolled back as he let out a groan, and you saw how his dick twitched at the sight of you and you wanted to smile at the small win. 

You were naked. He was naked. You were both naked. You couldn’t help but cover your face in embarrassment with both your hands. It was still Steve. Steve who came to your house to play in the tree house in your garden. Steve who climbed into your room whenever his mom and dad fought and he wanted to get away. Steve who helped you get your first part time job with him at Scoops where you two met Robin. 

And it was the man you have loved for the past years. 

“Hey– We don’t have to–” He was looking at you worriedly, feeling as if you had realized what was about to happen but you cut him off by jumping towards him, getting on top of him and kissing him on the lips to steal his breath away.

“I’m just nervous…” You confessed and he smiled at you, caressing your cheek as he nodded, completely agreeing with you.

“Me too… and if it’s too much–” And you shook your head at him, biting your bottom lip as you kneeled up, towering all over him. His heart picked up a pace once again as he saw how you turned around, your ass in full view for him and he couldn’t help but sigh dreamily. “God… I want a picture…” 

“Steve!” You giggled as you looked down at his length, still hard and waiting, despite the sudden interruption the two of you just had. You took a sharp breath in so you could gather up the courage and you started moving backwards, Steve’s abdomen starting to show the more you moved.

“Can you blame me?” He was already becoming pussy drunk the more your center came closer to him. His hands rubbed the back of your thighs, and then he smacked your right cheek with his hand, making you jolt and gasp, your pussy clenching around nothing. He smirked at the reaction, his hands grabbing onto your hips as you looked down at his red tip, begging for attention, twitching for it.

“S-Stevie…” He groaned, looking up at your glistening folds. Something he has dreamed of doing so many times. He couldn’t wait for you, to taste you, to finally make you scream. He needed to hear you. He needed to let you know just how good he can worship you, and how good he can make you feel. 

“Lower on me, baby, I can take it. I can take whatever you give me.” His words came from his heart because he didn’t even process them. Not that they weren’t any less true. You felt his hands gripping your hips, pressing on you so you would finally move down towards him. You took a deep breath in, and you moved your hips downwards, your hands gripping his thighs in anticipation. 

Steve could smell you and it was delightful. He is going to become addicted to you. He already was, but this would seal the entire deal. He couldn’t wait anymore, and his head left the pillow, raising up so he could dart his tongue out and finally lick in between your folds, taking a gush of your slick with him. You shivered on top of him, letting out a sigh out of your pretty lips and his eyes closed as he tasted you.

You were sweet, everything he needed and desired in one simple lick. You were the most delicious and addicting thing he has ever tasted. More than nicotine, alcohol, candy itself. You were perfect. You gasped, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs as you felt him lick at you, slurping your slickness away.

“So delicious… please…” He was begging for you to lower down, and after having a bit of what he could offer, your body lowered, his head laying back down on the pillow as your cunt slotted over his mouth. He smirked right before he darted his tongue out to rub it against your clit and then your folds. Your back was arched as you leaned down, moaning as you felt him all over, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. 

He groaned into your folds as your hand wrapped around him again, pumping him for a few seconds before he felt your hot mouth all over the head. You could feel the vibrations of his noises when you started taking him in your mouth, and then moving up and back down. It was making you feel so good. He was making you feel so fucking good. Your Stevie.

You moaned into his cock when he slapped your thigh, the sound echoing throughout the room and he sighed as he felt your moan vibrate all over. He kept licking you away, slurping on your clit thanks to how you were arching your back against him. You were giving him great access to that sensitive button of yours and he was having the time of his life tugging at it, making you cry out a few times as he felt your body tremble on top of him.

He jerked his hips upwards when you went a little further with your mouth, taking him even more. He was surprised and he stopped lapping at your center for just a second, trying to gather up his thoughts once again. You gagged, pulling up from him slightly, but continuing to suck him off. He had to distract you. He had to make you stop because if you didn’t he was going to finish. It’s been an ongoing battle with himself all night, and he was not going to give up now.

He decided to hold your ass cheeks, spreading them and then he entered his tongue inside of you. You pulled away from him with a gasp, the side of your face falling to a rest on his left thigh as you kept pumping him right in front of you, your chest against his abdomen. 

“S–Steve–!” You couldn’t believe how thick his tongue was. Everything was overwhelming you, and you couldn’t keep your mouth on him because you just needed to moan. Your hand was still jerking him off and even if he was delighting himself with his tongue inside of you, he had to keep distracting you. 

He moved one of his hands, elbow bent between your legs and bicep against his chest in order to aim properly into your core. He pulled his mouth away from you, letting you catch your breath, only for then to be completely washed over by a gasp when you felt two of his fingers sliding over your folds, gathering up your slick in order to lube them up. Those fingers you always fantasized with. Fingers you pretended you were fucking instead of your own. 

“Pretty. My pretty girl.” His praises were coming out of his mouth nonstop. Your mouth fell open and your hand stopped moving on his cock as you felt him invade your cunt with two of his fingers. His index and middle finger, in the position of a finger gun. This will give him better access to that special spot of yours, considering the position you two were in, but fuck, his dick twitched in your frozen hand when he felt just how warm you were inside. He felt it with his tongue, but with his fingers, it felt like something else entirely.

He wanted to give you the utmost pleasure, and he knew he was succeeding by how still you stayed on top of him, cunt a few inches away from his face, seeing his fingers start to slowly pump in and out of you. He could hear the squelching, oh fuck. Maybe he is just going to cum like this. He might cum just by fingering you and listening to your sweet little moans and sighs.

You were drooling on his thigh, and you didn’t have the power to care. You were feeling good as he changed the pace and started literally fucking his fingers into you, making you choke on your own moans. You couldn’t even move your hand on him, too distracted as he kept moving his fingers in and out of you, and when you tried to move your hand, you felt him press his ring finger against your clit, rubbing it back and forth as he finger fucked you.

“Oh Stevie–” You couldn’t help the moans you were letting out, pornographic, and it was everything Steve ever wanted. For you to moan his name this way. For you to come undone under his touch. 

“You feel good, baby?” You nod against his thigh, as your eyes remain closed, your hips starting to slowly sway against his thrusts. “Oh fuck, yeah, move against me, that’s it–” 

He couldn’t help talking to you. He wasn’t very talkative when having sex, but you? You were bringing a new whole side of him. He wanted to know if you were feeling good, wanted to make you do things to feel even better, and most of all, praise you. Worship you. 

You raised yourself from his thigh, holding yourself up against it with your left hand, shaking on top of him as you felt him move his wrist slightly, hitting your G-spot even if slightly, but enough to make you cry loudly. Your right hand tightened around him, making him groan but he didn’t feel the intense burning in his belly any longer. It was there, but not as threatening. 

He smirked as he flutter around his fingers, knowing you were coming close as you kept fucking yourself on his fingers. Your belly was burning, tightening, your walls starting to clench as you decided to finally let go of his dick, slamming your hand on his right thigh, and now you were just riding his fingers. 

You looked so fucking perfect right now, and he couldn’t wait as he felt you clench even tighter around his fingers, feeling your clit throb underneath the length of his ring finger.

“I’m– Shit, Steve, please, I’m gonna cum– You’re gonna make me cum–” Your head dropped as you felt your belly starting to turn into itself and he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine, only for them to start rubbing against your clit, making you clench around nothing at all.

“Cum on my tongue. Come on. I want it–” And you felt his tongue immediately dive into your folds, swirling inside of you as his fingers kept working magic against your sensitive clit. Your breaths were coming out in short little gasps as you felt tears building up your water lines in anticipation and lust. You felt yourself wanting to separate from him but he held you close with his other hand, not letting you move an inch away from him.

“Fuckfuckfuck– Steve!” Your nails dug into his thighs as you finally felt yourself tighten all around his tongue, your hips swaying desperately against him, not even considering you might suffocate him, but he wasn’t. He was actually in heaven as he kept drinking you, rubbing your clit in order to help you ride your orgasm out. Your cries were of his name, moans he never thought would be as high pitched as that, and you just felt hot all over.

He has to make sure he didn’t cum just now.

You twitched on top of him as you felt yourself start to untense, unclench, and your nails let go of his thighs. You felt him still swirling his tongue and sucking on your folds, eliciting a small wince as you pulled your hips up. You gulped as you breathed heavily, scooching away from his face, his hands leaving you completely. Your knees were wobbly against the mattress as you pulled your leg over his legs in order to turn around and face him.

He was breathing heavily, your slick all over his mouth and jaw, even down his neck, mixed with his saliva. You covered your mouth as you looked at the view before you. He looked utterly fucked just by eating you out. A sense of pride surged inside of you but you still bit your lip as you crawled close to him, looking down at his face.

“Steve…?” 

“Holy shit…” He was all dopey smiling up at you. “I’ve wanted to do that since… forever.” 

“Oh?” You smiled as your arms felt like complete gelatin as you kept your body up. You looked down to look at his cock, seeing how hard it still was, biting your bottom lip to look at him. “Um… you… want me to help you?”

He raised his eyebrows at you and lifted his head to look down and thankfully, gladly, he didn’t cum. He smirked, wiping his mouth away with a bit of the bedsheet as he turned to look at you once again.

“No.” Your eyes shot up in surprise and you were about to talk as he rolled on top of you, his hands on either side of your face, his pupils completely dilated as he stared down at you. “I want to fuck you, if that’s fine by you.”

You couldn’t nod quicker even if you wished. Your heart was gone already, you didn’t even know if you still had a beat or if it exploded and somehow blood was still pumping, but, sex. You were going to finally have sex with Steve. He licked his lips as he reached over for his night stand and opened his drawer to take out a condom foil. He inspected it, his eyes squinting slightly, making you frown.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking the expiration date.” Your eyes shot up in surprise at his words. Why would he need to check that?

“I… Huh?” He chuckles as he rips the foil open with his teeth, making you stupidly clench like a bitch in heat.

“I don’t exactly bring many women. This is my house and… it’s where most of you are… I didn’t want to taint it. I didn’t want anyone else but you in here for this… kind of thing.” He chuckled nervously as he rolled the condom on himself, and you were just staring at him. He has been waiting for you, all this time. He wanted you all this time. He saved this place for you, even if you two were never doing this. Even if you two were just friends like an hour ago. 

“Steve…” He looked at you and connected his eyes with yours, a feeling of warmth invading the both of you, and you two knew this was right. This was meant to happen at one point or the other, you just were too blind or stupid to realize this. Your arms wrapped around his arms as he leaned down to take your lips in his. You could taste yourself in his mouth, and you couldn’t believe that it actually was turning you on. 

Your legs spread even more for him to slot easily between them, his hard cock rubbing against you, making the both of you groan into the kiss. Your tongue danced with his as you two danced around that line that is now a spider’s thread of silk. He moaned into the kiss as he kept kissing you, but he needed to be honest with you, in order to not disappoint, so he pulled away, his breaths heavy against your lips.

“I gotta tell you, I’m not gonna last… I waited too long for this and I’ve been holding back from cumming the past thirty minutes and–” You giggled and pecked his lips with reassurance as you nodded at him.

“Don’t worry… We can go again later…” That gave him all the encouragement he needed, which he really didn’t anymore than what he already had, to grab his shaft in order to guide it to your entrance. He gave you one last look and you could feel the joy. The same joy that resides in your chest, a joy that makes you want to almost cry, but it got interrupted as his hips started pushing in. Your mouth fell open into an ‘o’ shape as you felt him stretch you out, inch by inch, and– fuck, his fingers did their best but there’s no comparison at all.

He groaned loudly as you engulfed him in your heat, slowly, and all he wanted was to slam into you, go crazy with it, but he had to be patient. He wanted it perfect. Everything has been going perfect till now, and it shouldn’t stop. It should never stop for you. Nor with you.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good for me, Mousy.” His head fell to the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent, your perfume, and he placed a kiss onto your skin. And his hips were not stopping, already going halfway in but you already felt full. You couldn’t believe you could keep taking him but maybe you were just made for him.

“B-Big– It’s so fucking big, Steve, what the fuck…” You couldn’t help the curse that came out of your mouth, a breathy chuckle vibrating in your neck thanks to him.

“I’m sorry– Do I–”

“No, don’t stop, I’ll kill you…” And you would, and he nodded. He took a sharp intake of breath as he tensed for a second before he dove his hips all the way in, making you gasp as his pelvis finally slammed against yours. He bottomed out and you felt him in your throat. Your nails were digging into his shoulders as you tried to adjust to him. It wasn’t painful at all, it just felt like too much, and you felt yourself pulsing around him, trying to get used to it. He pulled away from your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up on your jaw, to then move to your left cheek. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was a whisper, concerned and you wanted to cry by how attentive he was over his own pleasure. You smiled even if he wasn’t seeing it and you nodded. “Tell me when I can start moving, alright?”

And you wanted to be brave and say right now, but you actually waited for a minute, and in that minute you knew this wasn’t a one time thing. A ‘satisfy your curiosity’ kind of thing. Because Steve was peppering your whole face and neck in kisses, soft little pet names leaving his mouth for you.

‘My baby. My sweetheart. Darling. My sweet. Honey. My love.’

And the last one was the one that caught you by surprise. It seems he noticed what he had done because the moment you opened your mouth, he started to move. A moan left your lips as he started thrusting slowly in and out of you, halfway out, and then in. It was slow tempo, yet deep, but not rough.

“Stevie–” You were letting out pretty sighs as you closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling him rub against your walls with each thrust. He cradled your head in his arms, looking down at your face, his hair falling over his eyes as the sweat glistened on his forehead.

“Perfect. Can I go faster?” It was a plea, a beg, the lust for you inside of him igniting once again, and with your nod, his hips started rolling quicker, a little further than before, making you moan louder, your head tilting back on the pillow, your neck being exposed to him, to which he immediately attacked with his lips.

He started listening to the slamming of his hips against yours as he sucked on the skin of your pulse point, listening to your moans and his dick was twitching nonstop. He couldn’t believe he was having you like this, that you were letting him have you like this at all. His sweet mouse. His sweet, perfect girl.

It was paradise. He was in paradise. You were in heaven. You two felt like everything made sense for the first time in your lives. Why didn’t you do this before? Why were the two of you so scared? Those are questions you two can ask eachother later because right now all you want is to finally let Steve rail into you the way he’s always wanted to.

And to do that, he had to pull away and kneel up, his arms leaving your head so his hands could grab the back of your knees. He looked down at you for just one second as his chest heaved up and down. Your eyes were filled with tears, your gaze finding his and as you opened your mouth to call for him, his hips started snapping into yours, the bedframe hitting the wall at each thrust of his.

You moaned loudly as your right hand shot upwards, holding onto the headboard, while your left one was in a tight fist in the pillow below your head. He was moaning your name as he saw your entire body bounce against his thrusts, and he could hear how wet you were as well. He growled as he felt his belly burn instantly at it, and he wanted to last longer, to have you in more positions, to make this night unforgettable, but he had a feeling that you would not care. It would be memorable no matter what he did or happened.

“Steve, you feel so good–” Your words were like sirens singing in his ear. You were making this very difficult on him as he started rolling his hips in long and deep thrusts, making you gasp and breathe out everytime the tip of his cock hit the deepest part of you, brushing against your g-spot perfectly. Your eyes were wide, looking at the ceiling thanks to how intense he was being and how much you were loving it. 

“Yeah? Tell me how much you love it, baby, I want to hear it–” He didn’t know where all this dirty talking really came from. He was still surprised by this. 

“I love it– I love it so much– I love you– I love you!” His eyebrows met in the middle as his mouth fell open, and he was done for. He fell forward as his heart exploded inside of his chest, and he knew you were cockdrunk and it came out of your mouth unwillingly, but the feeling was there and he knew it. 

You couldn’t believe you said it. You couldn’t believe what you just did but you just let yourself go and this happened. He fell forward, his hands caging your head between them as his hair tickled your forehead, his lips brushing over yours as he kept panting into your mouth, his hips unrelenting in their pace.

“I love you… Fuck, I love you too Mouse, so fucking much, you have no idea–” He kissed you, and you felt your stomach flip, your heart set aflame. “For so long, even before the auditions–” Another kiss and his hips became desperate, not letting you reply to him at all as your breaths were being knocked out of you, thrust after thrust. “-- You’re mine, you’ve always been mine.” 

Your arms wrapped around him again, your walls clenching around his length making him moan your name as he got his hand in between the two of you. His lips smashed against yours as his fingers came in contact with your puffed up clit. Your eyes widened when you felt overwhelmed with sensations, your belly coiling at feeling him brush your g-spot at the same time he rubbed your clit.

“Please, please– Stevie, you are so good–” Your praises fell on his lips and he had to hold on for a bit longer, just a bit longer. He could feel you fluttering all around him so he needed to make you cum around him. He needed to feel you. He was begrudgingly going to admit defeat on not making you cum again, but now, now it was a need. Now it’s a must. After your confession, it’s the least he can give you for having the courage he didn’t have.

“C’mon, one more… One more and I’ll cum…” You knew the climax was going to hit you sooner or later, but the fact Steve was feeling as good as you were feeling was just, making you go a little feral.

“Okay– Okay, pleasepleaseplease–” He didn’t know you were this vocal in bed, but he hoped it was because of him, and he was. You two were vocal and just with eachother. A detail you will learn later on. You felt him rub your clit a little faster than before and you threw your head back on the pillow as you dug your nails into his hair. He moaned as he looked between your bodies, seeing himself disappear inside of you as his fingers played with your soaked button.

He felt you flutter around him and fuck, he was going to cum. He can’t hold it in anymore but he can’t change the pace of anything. He can’t. He needs to feel you around him before he gets to cum. He wants to do it at the same time you do. He wants this with you. This memory. Your eyes widen when you feel your belly burning and your back arched towards him, your walls clenching around his cock.

“I feel you. I can feel you baby, come on… Come on–” And without further encouragement, you clenched tightly around him like a vice, which knocked the breath out of him, his hips stuttering as you came all around him, his name coming out of your lips in a cry of pleasure. He looked at your contorted face for a few seconds before his hips finally stopped and twitched when he came into the condom. You were still gripping him tightly, milking every single spurt of cum he had to give. He gave a few thrusts for good measure to help you ride your orgasm out, until his fingers stopped rubbing your clit.

His head fell, forehead hitting your chest as he breathed heavily, wincing as you slowly started to unclench around him, coming down from your high. He took his hand away from your sensitive nub, and he felt your heartbeat against his head. It was so quick. He is scared your heart will burst at any second.

You on the other hand, you were so exhilarated. You could die right now and you would go happily. Death could take you and you would tell it sure why not. A smile displayed on your face as your tight grip on his head softened, slowly starting to rub circles on his scalp with your fingers, which he responded with a satisfied hum. You were breathing heavily, and he was holding most of his weight up with his hands and knees, but you still felt him all over you.

He gulped as he raised his head from your chest, smiling at you as you connected your eyes with his. He kissed your chest once, then moved up and kissed your collarbone, then your neck, which was all marked up by him, then your jaw, and finally he pecked your lips.

“Hi Mouse.” You give him a content huff, panting into each other's lips.

“Hi, Stevie…” He smiled at you, clearing his throat as he felt his cock soften slowly, moving his hips to pull out from you, eliciting a groan out of the two of you. “Fuck…”

“You can say that again…” Your hands were still in his hair and he chuckled, pecking your lips softly. His heart couldn’t pump more blood than it was right now even if it could, but he had to ask. “Did you mean that?” “What?” He gulped and continued with his question.

“That you love me…” You blinked a few times and you bit your bottom lip as the nerves returned like a bulldozer.

“I… Yeah… for a long time… Did you mean it?” Steve smiled widely, his lips coming in contact to every inch of your face, making you giggle because it tickled in some places, and your heart never felt more warm than it was now. 

“Absolutely… fuck, baby, I– How could I not want you? You’ve… been with me even when I was a loser.” You rolled your eyes at him and giggled, shaking your head.

“You were prom king!”

“And a loser! I was an ass! And had no dreams! Well, except one.” Your eyebrow raised in question, wondering what he meant.

“What was that?”

“You. You were.” You felt your eyes fill with tears as the emotions overwhelmed you, realizing the two of you could have had this for so long, and neither of you acted on it. Made something happen, and it only prompted the both of you to waste time.

“You were mine… You are mine, Stevie.” A fond smile spreads on his lips as he leans down and kisses you softly, warmly, with the intent of a forever. And he keeps kissing you. He keeps giving you sweet words, until it's time for the two of you to clean up. The moment he gets up from the bed and you wobble to take a look at him, you gasp, your hands covering your mouth.

“What!? What is it!?” His eyes were worried as he looked at you, and you pointed at his body. 

“I– Oh, did I fuck it up!?” 

“Huh?” He tilted his head at your question, only for him to look down at himself and for his eyes to widen. “Oh… fuck.”

Your fingernails had scratched him all over. His shoulders, his neck, his back, his arms, his fucking thighs. He’ll get killed, or his scene will be postponed till these go away, though, he doesn’t know if he just wouldn’t forbid you from making more. 

But the next day, when the director saw the scratches on his body and the hickies on your neck, he thought it was natural looking. That the makeup artist did an amazing job on the two of you, and the director didn’t even know you two didn’t even go to the person in charge of that. You rolled out of bed because you were running late and you rushed to the studio.

You were happy to be here with him. That it took a practice kissing lesson to be able to be with him. You were nervous, but at least not in the way you were yesterday afternoon. Not in the way of kissing him and him thinking you were disgusting, or deciding it was a bad idea to ask you for this. You were nervous because of his career, because of how this could be seen by his fans, but– You cannot give him up now. Not after all these years of missing out. 

He wasn’t going to give up on this either. The moment the movie comes out, the moment this debuts, he will go on the carpet of his premiere with you by his side. He will tell everyone that the woman he kisses for ten seconds at the beginning of the movie is his best friend and the love of his life. He will show you off. He wants everyone to know who was there with him from the very beginning and through every instance of his life, even since he was a kid.

“ACTION!”

And the scene was done in one take, the director praising you both with a–

‘Good job you two! It felt natural!’

end

a/n: i want to be fingerbanged by steve harrington

[aethersea]

My Cousin Vinny is a bop from start to finish. absolutely lives up to the hype. Joe Pesci is lucky he's such a good actor or Marisa Tomei would have stolen the whole movie out from under him, and Fred Gwynne would have taken what was left.

but he is that good an actor! everyone in this movie is, actually, everyone is just doing such a perfect job in their roles, it's a complete delight

[fungateshortcakes]

Munch Munch

OMG I FORGOT I HAD THIS IN MY DRAFTS FORGIVE ME

Just a lil old man Logan drabble bc UGHHH he can crush my head with those juicy arms AHHH

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Logan never understood why you looked at him the way you did.

He was old. He was tired. His body was breaking down from the inside, poisoned by the very thing that once made him invincible. His hands shook more than they used to and no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you saw. You saw everything.

And yet there you were, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed, giving him that look again. Like he was something worth staring at. Logan wasn’t used to being wanted. Not like this.

He could feel your gaze tracing over his arms as he sat in his white wifebeater at the kitchen table. This was by far not the first time he caught you staring at him like that. He noticed it every time. The way you would watch the flex of his biceps beneath his shirt, the way his forearms tensed whenever he clenched his fists. He wasn’t blind. And if he had any doubts, well, the way you were looking at him right now? Like you wanted to sink your teeth into him? Yeah. That cleared things up really fast.

"You’re staring again" he muttered, though he didn’t cover up, just took another sip of his drink. "Mhm" you hummed completely unapologetic in how you were goggling his arms. You pushed yourself away from the doorframe and stepped in closer, fingers reaching out to lightly drag over his arm, just enough to make his skin prickle.

Logan exhaled sharply through his nose, setting the beer can in his hand down on the table "You got a problem?"

"Yeah, actually" you said, tilting your head. "These arms? They’re just sitting there. Not being held. Not being bitten. Wasted potential, really."

Logan choked on a laugh, a rare sound from him "Bitten? What do you-?" before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in and without hesitation you pressed your teeth lightly against his bicep. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make him feel it. A playful little bite that was gone as fast as it came.

Logan went completely still. The only sound was the sharp breath he sucked in through his teeth. You pulled back again and watched his reaction, your lips curling into a satisfied smirk. "Huh, that shut you up really quick."

Logan finally blinked, looking up at you like he wasn’t quite sure what the hell just happened. He opened his mouth but closed it before any words came out, rubbing a hand over his beard and sighing deeply.

"You just bit me" he said, like he was still trying to process it.

You grinned "Yeah. You act like you can just sit here with these babies out and expect me not to."

Logan huffed, shaking his head at your words, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He almost a smiled. Almost. But you counted it as a win nonetheless "You’re goddamn ridiculous" he muttered.

"Maybe" you mused with a pout, poking at his arm again. "Now flex for me, old man. Let me see the goods." you demanded, already munching on your bottom lip in anticipation. You just couldn't help it. You knew he was starting to feel his age, to look it, too. But damn, his arms were still plumb 'n thick. Just how you liked them.

Logan let out a low groan and for a second you thought he would just ignore you, but to your absolute delight, he sat up a little more straight, rolled his shoulders back and flexed- just a little, as if to tease. Just enough to make the veins in his forearms pop, to make the muscles in his biceps shift under his skin.

And goddamn, you swore you felt lightheaded...and how your panties were getting wet. You bit your lip at the sight "Shit" you breathed, your eyes fighting from rolling back because good god "You are so hot."

Logan narrowed his eyes at your praise, grumbling something under his breath, but you caught the way his ears burned just a little bit pink. He could act all gruff and broody, but you knew the truth now.

You were disappointed as he lowered his arm again. You stepped closer, placing your hands on his arms, fingers tracing the muscle slowly, deliberately. A shudder ran up his spine at your touch. He tried to play it down, but he couldn't hide the obvious goosebumps explodig over his scarred skin "Do it again, baby. " you murmured, smoothing over his shoulder and arms.

Logan arched a brow "Again?"

"Again" you stated firmly, it sounded like a command to him. And maybe he would follow it. He rolled his eyes, but you were able to catch the slightest smile on his lips that seemed a little proud, flattered even. It was balm for the soul, your words. You actually wanted to see him, worship something he thought no one cared for anymore. But here you were.

Acting as if he was annoyed by your persistance, he lifted his arm and flexed, this time for real. The muscle in his biceps tensed, thick and solid beneath your hands that wandered over the firm muscle. His forearms flexed, veins running up his skin like a goddamn work of art. The old scars, the roughness, the strength, it was all so perfect. Your forearm next to his biceps looked so small, it made your mouth water.

And you couldn’t help it. You made a sound. A tiny, helpless whimper that you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

Logan froze and his arm lowered slightly "Did you just-?"

"Shut up" you giggled, pressing your face against his shoulder to hide the absolute mess he was making of you "Nah, sweetheart" he said, his voice downright smug and a grin spreading across his face while he stood up, towering over you, wrapping his strong arms around your neck, making you groan as pure, firm muscle surrounded your flushed face "What was that sound?" he teased, his voice low and raspy against your ear

You whined annoyed against his broad chest, wanting him to drop it "Logan"

But he wasn't letting up "You whimpered" he stated matter of factly, clearly enjoying himself "Over my arms."

Your hands slid up his sides, squeezing him. You looked up through your eyelashes, a suggestive grin on your lips "Well, you could just shut me up with these big, strong arms of yours" you purred, leaning up to kiss him. And Logan could already picture the way your teeth would sink into his flesh as he held you in a headlock while pounding his cock into you from behind, leaving deep bite marks on his arms that wouldn’t start to fade until the next morning. He grinned back down at you, capturing your lips in a kiss.

"Let's give you a reason to bite, bub"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Fuck me he is so hot the best he ever looked and I will DIE on that hill. One chance, ONE FUCKING CHANCE!!!! I am not rlly the girly to randomly bite my partner but istg I would munch and nibble and gnaw on his arms FOREVER they are so big and manly and mhmm and yummy and BARK BARK

I have two more old man Logan drafts I completely forgot about- should I post them too?

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: The Radio Demon proves to be quite a doting husband as he and his doe expierence many firsts together. Exploring his softer sides, may bring out a more posessive side of Alastor in the process.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, doe!reader, the reader is shorter than al, implied size difference, soft!alastor, posessive!alastor, lots of tooth rotting fluff, sexual themes but i wouldn't consider this smut, first times, alastor in a rut, knotting, breeding, pregnacy, many domestic moments between reader and alastor

☒ Word Count: 2,337

Alastor was drawn to you the moment you crossed paths. The spotted ears planted atop your head, heart-shaped antlers, and a plush tail to match were striking. The Radio Demon hadn't ever seen a fellow deer hybrid in hell until you. But Alastor just knew that he had to have you all to himself. 

Since your first meeting, the two of you were inseparable. It didn't take long until you wed, and anyone who dared to try and cozy up to The Radio Demon's darling doe joined his next broadcast. Alastor was insanely possessive of you. He always had you tucked underneath his arm, crimson eyes following your every move. The only time they weren't on you, was when The Radio Demon was busy... taking care of business.

You were timid and pure. Alastor had no clue how you even ended up in hell. Surely, the gods were mistaken by not taking you. But alas, that softness you carried only made The Radio Demon's obsession for you all the more extreme. You were his weak spot, his darling wife. The love of his afterlife. 

You adored waking up next to Alastor each morning. He didn't rest often but snuggled into you each night to appease you. Which just made your heart flutter with delight. The only time you awoke to an empty bed, was when your husband slipped away to make breakfast for you. 

For the most part, you would sleepily wobble into the kitchen. Wrapping your arms around Alastor's waist from behind while he cooked his heart out. Alastor would hum a soft tune while he finished making your breakfast. Reveling in the warmth his cute wife emitted.

The Radio Demon would often spin on his heel. Encircling his large palms around your waist. He loved lifting you, so the tips of your toes planted flat against the top of his shoes as he spun you around the kitchen. Your laughter and his singing filled the sacred space you shared. You may have been in hell, but anywhere you were with Alastor was heavenly. 

Alastor never failed to notice how flustered you got as you gazed up at him. The man was over seven feet tall, so typically, he was taller than most. However, you were adorably short in comparison. His hands blanketed yours entirely. Alastor absolutely loved to bend down before you. Treasuring how your ears tipped back coyly as he met you at eye level. You were so easy to read. You couldn't hide anything from your husband. Even if you tried. 

You came to notice that physical touch wasn't something Alastor particularly liked. Except when it came to you. Your husband was constantly all over you. Holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap anytime he sat down. You name it. Knowing that you were the only exception made you feel special.

But even still, you never pushed the matter. If anything, you waited for Alastor to initiate the physical intimacy, which happened more frequently than one might think- considering The Radio Demon's reputation. 

Sex wasn't something you discussed much at the beginning of your relationship. Alastor briefly mentioned that he never desired such things when he was alive. But once he became a demon, a deer hybrid at that- he started experiencing ruts. He explained that he would usually tuck away from the world until his rut passed, but that was as far as the conversation went. Relief washed over you, knowing that you weren't alone in that aspect. Your periods of estrus always made you feel shameful but, most of all... unbearably needy.

Alastor prided himself on knowing that he was a man of great composure. However, when his routine rut hit after you both had tied the knot- he expected to be able to control his urges. But that proved to be impossible for The Radio Demon. At the start of his rut, he kept his distance. Avoiding all physical contact with you. Naturally, you understood and tried to support him the best you could from afar. 

But it didn't take long for Alastor's poise to completely crumble. Your scent was all over your shared home, and any glimpse of you had him throbbing in his pants. 

Before you knew it, your husband was on you. Nipping and kissing up the expanse of your throat. Grumbling and groaning against your neck, begging you to help in through his heat. Your body trembled with need as Alastor's hands roamed along your frame in a way he never had before. 

His touches were prompt, frantic, and perverse. You wouldn't dream of denying your darling husband during his time of need. Knowing that Alastor would be your first and last lover; as you would be his, sent your heart pounding against your ribcage.

As desperate as your husband was for release, his touch was undoubtedly gentle. Alastor was slow to undress you, laying you flat atop your shared bed. He placed chaste kisses on every square inch of your skin, making your ears twitch with delight. Your husband whispered sweet nothings into your skin as he worked a finger into your tight heat for the very first time. 

Alastor's deft digit stretched you out slowly. The copious amount of slick dripping down your thighs made it easy for him to add another finger. You were on cloud nine being touched by your darling husband in such a way. You could feel the need he had for you, and it only added to the pleasure. 

Your husband was a bit hesitant the first time he pushed himself inside your welcoming walls. His hands were trembling around your waist as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. You could tell he was unfamiliar with such things; it was endearing. Alastor's face loomed over yours as he beckoned into you slowly. He gazed down at you with so much adoration as he succumbed to pleasure. 

You didn't fail to notice the tears of merriment trickling down Alastor's flush cheeks as his pace quickened. Carefully, you wiped them away. Moaning in pure ecstasy as you and your husband reveled in the unforgettable moment you shared. A gasp escaped you as you felt him begin to swell from deep within you. 

From the look on Alastor's face, you could tell he was just as perplexed as you were. The base of your lover's length swelled so much, that he could hardly pull back. You were quite literally stuck together. It didn't take long for you to understand what had happened once Alastor released his seed deep inside you. 

The feeling of your husband being so close, enveloping and marking you as his, pushed you over the edge. Once Alastor's knot deflated inside you, finally allowing him to slip out of your heat, his eyes averted from yours. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he attempted to regain his composure. 

Slowly, he explained that he had no clue that he was capable of knotting until only moments ago. You couldn't help but flush as you admitted to liking it more than you probably should have. Your confession unlocked something from deep inside your husband's psyche. Safe to say that you both shared a long night of exploring one another's pleasures and eccentricities. 

Your husband began craving you sexually even when he wasn't in a rut after your first night together. Alastor seemed to have developed a fixation with breeding you, which you weren't opposed to. The thought of starting a family with your doting husband plagued your mind often. 

So it wasn't a massive surprise to you when you discovered you were pregnant only a couple months later. When you broke the news to Alastor, he was elated. Your husband lifted you in his arms, spinning you around the kitchen as you both grinned brightly. Alastor wasted no time pitching name ideas for your fawn, melting your heart entirely.

You were about seven months along when your husband informed you of his next prospect at the Hazbin Hotel. Happily, you joined your husband in his endeavor. At first, the people you met who resided at the hotel didn't believe you were Alastor's spouse. For crying out loud, he was the infamous Radio Demon. The ruthless overlord that moved up the ranks faster than ever before. 

But to you, he was simply the doting husband that took pride in loving you. Who rubbed your feet from how much they swelled during your pregnancy. The man who hummed his favorite tunes to you as you dozed off each night, caressing your ears lovingly in the process. 

It took a good while but over time you developed a good relationship with the residents. Charlie was so caring and helpful. She did tons of research on pregnancy to be able to aid you. The Princess of Hell loved rubbing your belly, feeling the little kicks, and humming happy songs to your little fawn.

Vaggie was overly protective of you. Not to Alastor's level- but certainly up there. She acted like your bodyguard at times, even in the safety of your and Alastor's room. It made you giggle, but you appreciated it nonetheless. 

Angel was a hoot. At first, he would ask you indecent questions about your and Alastor's sex life. But Husk always put him in his place at times like that. Eventually, Angel became somewhat of a brother to you. He and Fat Nuggets would sit on your bed with you late at night while Alastor worked in his radio tower. Angel would put on all the best rom-com movies, laughing and crying alongside you.

You knew Husk beforehand, having a civil relationship for the most part. But as more time passed at the hotel, he began to warm up to you. If anything, Husk feared for you. He didn't like Alastor in the slightest- and he didn't want you to get caught in The Radio Demon's crossfire. So he kept a watchful gaze on you, especially now that you were pregnant. 

A small smile etched into your features as you heard the bedroom door swing open. Alastor was home early, something that didn't happen often. You sunk lower into your bubble bath, letting a soft sigh escape you as your husband's footsteps got louder. A moment later, the bathroom door swung open. Revealing the one and only; Alastor. 

"How is my darling doe and fawn doing on this wonderful evening?" Alastor boomed, approaching the tub swiftly. Wasting no time kneeling beside the tub. You giggled as your husband slipped his gloves off, dunking his palms beneath the water to caress your plump belly. 

"Hmm, better now that you're here," You whispered. Rubbing your palms over the back of his hands. Alastor craned his neck, giving you a chaste kiss. You couldn't help but smile against your lover's lips as your little fawn kicked right at that very moment. "See! Our little one is happy too, now that daddy's here." 

Alastor gazed at you with much adoration as he felt another kick, further solidifying your words. "Well, in that case! I suppose I should strive to get home earlier from now on, hm?" Your husband remarked, slowly pulling his hands from the tub. Alastor didn't miss a beat as he grabbed a washcloth. Lathering it up with your favorite soap before dipping his hands below the water once more. 

"Miss falling asleep next to you, Al," You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as your husband washed you. Alastor was so gentle as he scrubbed you clean. Making sure to massage your sore muscles in the process. "I know, my dear, I know." He cooed. Humming a gentle tune as he slid behind you from outside the tub. Working the knots out of your tense shoulders. 

"Our little fawn will be here soon... you nervous?" You asked softly, letting out a pleasant hum as Alastor massaged your back. His lips ghosted along the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Quite the contrary, my darling! I'm over the moon with excitement. I simply cannot wait to meet our little one."

Alastor's words caused your heart to flutter against your ribcage. You were the nervous one. You just hoped your child would be happy and healthy. "Don't worry your pretty little head, my dear! Our fawn is in good hands. Don't you see how much the patrons here adore you and our unborn child?"

Your husband always knew when you were nervous. It was as if he could read your mind. The sound of the soapy water sinking down the drain caused your eyes to flutter open. Alastor now stood with a towel outstretched in his arms. He beckoned you toward him, wrapping you in his arms as you stepped out of the tub. Your tail wagged with joy as your husband dried you off. 

"You're right... thanks for reminding me, my love," You smiled, tilting your face up against your husband's chest. Alastor took the hint, craning his neck to press his lips against yours. The kiss was warm and loving. Making you feel safe in his embrace. "No need to thank me, my dear! Come now, let's get you tucked in."

You squealed as your husband scooped you in his arms. Carrying you bridal style toward your shared bed. Alastor softly placed you under the duvet, wasting no time getting you warm and cozy in one of his button-up shirts. It smelled just like him, your favorite scent. Your husband stealthily removed his overcoat and shoes before making himself comfortable beneath the sheets.

Alastor cuddled up into your backside, wrapping his slender arms around your waist. He caressed your tummy lovingly as he kissed the top of your head, pulling your back flush against his chest. "There, now my darlings are ready to rest!" Your husband quipped, allowing his droopy eyelids to flutter shut. All you could do was hum in agreement as sleep overtook you. "Night, Al... love you..." 

"I love you more, my dear."

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim

comment if you're intrested in being added to the taglist^^

[lubdubology]

Til The Sun Turns Black

SYNOPSIS: Your soul is bound to his and you're destined to follow him across the multiverse. When the TVA finds you and sends you to the Void, you feel your chance of finding him has slipped through your fingers. But what you find there is more than you bargained for.

PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader

WC: 13.1 k I apologize for nothing

WARNINGS: smut 18+, mdni, mentions of drinking, angst, peril, some fluff, implied age gap (I guess?), mental trauma, miscommunication, Wade being Wade, dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, cowgirl, missionary, cock warming, sex with feelings, unprotected p in v

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on Soft Edges! I was not expecting that kind of response when I posted that story, so thank you <3. I had the idea for this story in my head since after I first saw the movie. I had no idea my one random runaway thought would turn into this. Also, this story would not have been finished if it weren't for @joelsgoldrush. She let me tease her for WEEKS with this and act as the ultimate sounding board. And she's overall just a delightful human being and I'm so glad I've found her.

The TVA agent sits staring at you, an odd and uncomfortable smile on his face. Like he isn’t quite sure he knows how to smile but had seen it once on TV.  You also don’t think he’s blinked in the past several minutes. It makes your eyes water just thinking about it. 

“I don’t understand why I’m here.”

“Ah, yes, well—“ the agent clears his throat and smoothes a hand down his chest. “You’re a threat to the multiverse.”

You squint your eyes at him and wonder if you’re lucid dreaming. Or trapped in some bizarre fever dream, but you can’t remember being sick. “The…multiverse? As in, more than one universe?”

He nods once. “Precisely.”

It’s your turn to stare as absolutely none of this is making sense. The morning had started off normal—wake up, shower, coffee at your favorite local corner store. You had barely finished your latte when you were apprehended and taken to this bland room by a man who must own insane stock in eyedrops. 

“You see, we’ve been watching you for quite some time,” he continues, oblivious of your growing confusion. “A handful of reincarnations, actually. And we believe we’ve finally pinned it down.”

His words sound insane. 

You were a low level mutant at best. You’ve been able to deeply sense and influence emotions in others since you were six—a standard empath if there ever was one. But reincarnation?

“Reincarnations? I’m sorry but—”

You feel it coming then, that all too familiar prickle of deja vu creeping up your spine and setting deep in your brain. The room begins to soften, the corners blurring and you feel disjointed, separate from the you sitting in the chair.

“Ah, see. We’ve pinned it down.”

The world tilts on its axis and your mind explodes into brilliance, the memories of hundreds of alternate versions of yourself firing down your synapses, leaving you as raw and exposed as a fresh wound. The pain is all consuming as you gasp for air and desperately try to quell the throbbing in your skull. 

Your hands grip the edge of the table, desperate to clutch at something solid to root you in reality as the kaleidoscope of memories swirl before your eyes, colliding and merging with one another. All the timelines converging down to a single point of existence within your mind. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve experienced this process, the return of your memories—the return of your consciousness—was always accompanied by a torturous sensory overload. 

“You see? You have extensive knowledge of the multiverse. And that kind of knowledge is coveted and dangerous.”

Your vision blurs as the memories keep slamming into you and you can’t help the primal scream that rips from your lungs, the pain in your throat a welcome distraction from the torture in your head. And then, amid the chaos, a single figure emerges in crisp focus, a face you’ve seen thousands of times.

“Logan.” His name comes out in a whisper, your voice trembling.

You know he’s not actually in front of you and instead a mirage, a figment of your overloaded neurons, but his presence calms you. 

“Yes, Logan. You two are quite fond of each other.” The agent stands and you squint up at him, wanting to be anywhere else as you regain your memories. “But never mind him. We can’t have you traipsing around with all that knowledge in your head.”

“No, no, no, please. Please just let me find him,” you beg, hating the desperation laced in your voice. 

The last thing you see before being sent out of existence is his creepy, uncanny smile. 

+++

The Void was bullshit. 

It had been a month since you were unceremoniously dumped here. 

Maybe. 

You weren’t really sure.  

Time had no meaning, each day seeming to stretch on for eons and simultaneously in the blink of an eye. And for every single one of those moments you’d been focused on one of two things: finding a way out and not dying. 

You quickly learned you had a better chance at survival if you stuck to the outskirts and avoided others. So you squirreled yourself away, sheltering in an abandoned cabin and hoping beyond hope you could figure out a way out of the desolate cesspool you found yourself in. 

Figure out a way back to him. 

Back home. 

+++

You don’t venture out unless you have to. 

The Void is full of phantom emotions left behind by its previous inhabitants and the cacophony overwhelms you. Rage, terror and despair so thickly envelope every surface you feel like you’re choking. It’s beginning to wear so harshly on your nerves you wonder if you might actually go insane here.

There was a tension growing in the Void. You’d heard whispers of unrest within the factions, Cassandra hungry for something to sink her teeth into. The undercurrent of rage has increased in the last couple of days and it’s enough to set your teeth on edge.

Stuffing a backpack with a few essentials in case you get stranded, you ready yourself for a supply run. The thought of leaving the perceived safety of your cabin has little appeal, but you’ve been putting it off for far too long. There was a small cache only a few miles from your cabin that other survivors kept stocked with extra provincials. You were hoping for something good, anything other can canned food or cereal. Or Spam. 

Tightening the straps on your backpack, you take one last glance around before stepping out into the forest. It’s eerily quiet, no birds or animals chattering to fill the silence, just the crunch of your shoes against fallen leaves. The Void has always felt oppressive to you, the air just a little too heavy, but there’s something lingering today that makes you feel on edge. Your skin prickles with anticipation and you pat your belt for the knife you’ve stashed there. 

Just in case. 

You’re half a mile away from the cache when you feel it—the inky slick of anger. It catches on the air and wafts towards you in waves. You slow your steps as you approach the road and come to a halt when the battered van comes into view. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. 

You’d recognize those claw marks anywhere. 

Your heart races as your eyes trace the deep, jagged cuts gouged into the metal and the large swathes of blood coating the ground and what you can see of the interior of the van. Instinctively your hand tightens around the hilt of your knife and you crouch down low behind a fallen log. You scan the area for any signs of movement and find none, but you know Logan is stealthier than you and wouldn’t give up his location willingly. 

The van door creaks open on its battered hinges and you inhale sharply as Logan stumbles out of the vehicle covered in dried blood and sweat and more knife wounds and bullet holes than you can count. 

The sight of him ignites a spark of longing that blooms in your chest and makes you physically ache. You can feel him. Your lips remember the hungered warmth of his mouth against yours, the way he’d nip at your bottom lip so you’d open up for him. Your skin remembers the calloused rasp of his hands and not just the greedy grabs when he needed to claim you, but the light brushes of his fingertips against your palm as he held your hand, just to remind himself that you were real. Your nose remembers his scent, woodsy and clean, like the earth after rain. 

Shaking your head, you push down the memories and peer back over the log. A slight breeze wafts through the air and you watch as he sniffs, his head turning in your direction. 

“Fuck,” you curse lowly, trying to crouch further out of eyesight. 

You hear the metallic snikt of his claws and your pulse quickens. There’s no point in hiding—he knows you’re there. You take a slow, steady breath before attempting to focus waves of calm in his direction, hoping to ease some of the anger wound around him. 

His eyes lock onto yours, sharp and predatory and he shakes his head, trying to keep you out. “Who the fuck’re you?” 

You draw back your power and raise your hands in surrender as you slowly rise to your feet. You toss out your name and silently hope for a spark of recognition. But he doesn’t know you. Not yet. 

“It’s not safe out here alone,” you start, moving out of your hiding place. You walk towards him, his eyes following your every move. “There’s a cache just up ahead—”��

The atmosphere shifts without warning, the anger you’d felt previously now melting into thick, cloying fear and desperation. You can taste the ozone and the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end as electricity sizzles across the sky. Glancing up, you see the dark, swirling mass of Alioth just beginning to form. 

You look at Logan, panic racing along your nerves. “I promise I’ll explain everything to you later, but I know you, Logan, and right now I need you to trust me.” 

Alioth’s presence is getting stronger and drawing closer, and every drop of tension and rage swirling within is beginning to weigh down on you, threatening to suffocate you. 

Logan’s eyes narrow, but there’s a slight twitch in his jaw and you know he’s considering your words. His claws retract, but his muscles remain tense, coiled and ready to attack. You grab for his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin and the hard muscle beneath your fingers. “We have to go. Now.”

For a moment, you think he might resist. But then with a low curse, he follows you, his stride matching yours as you lead him towards the cache. The trees blur by, the wind picking up and beginning to toss leaves and loose branches into the air. 

You’re operating on pure adrenaline and your heart pounds in your chest as you run, Alioth gaining speed and distance faster than either of you can move. Each gasp of air burns your lungs and your muscles ache with the effort of your sprint. 

Still a quarter of a mile away from the cache, you know you won’t be able to outrun Alioth. The storm has consumed the sky, the sun diminished to twilight, as the thunder and groans loom ever closer. You turn towards Logan and yell, “It’s too close, we’re not gonna make it!”

Logan’s eyes flash with anger as you stop and turn towards the oncoming destruction. He grabs for your wrist, pulling you almost nose to nose. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls, chest heaving with the effort to breathe. “We can’t stop!”

His proximity briefly disarms you, his fierce gaze igniting something deep within you, but you don’t have time to dwell on those emotions. You take a deep breath in an attempt to steady your nerves. “I’m gonna try and calm it down.”

“What are you going to do, think happy thoughts at it?” he asks, his tone biting and sarcastic. 

You know every cell in his body is begging to fight, aching to release his claws and tear Alioth apart with his bare hands. But this isn’t something brute strength can subdue. 

“Just trust me,” you plead, your eyes searching his for some indication that he believes you. “Please.”

His stare is hard, but eventually his eyes soften and he loosens his grip on your wrist. “Fine.”

Tearing your gaze from him, you turn back towards the storm, now a full blown maelstrom of anger and destruction hellbent on consuming you both whole. You exhale slowly, pushing your own emotions of fear and panic as far down as you can. Instead, you turn inward and concentrate on every feeling of peace, calm and stillness you’ve ever experienced and project it outwards. Waves of soothing energy pour from you, an almost ghostly aura emanating from you as your power continues to grow. Alioth continues to surge towards you, the wind now flattening trees to the ground and lifting debris high into the air. 

The fight is excruciating, every cell in your body shaking with effort as you continue to project outwards, the sphere of your influence growing. When the two opposing masses collide, you’re almost knocked off your feet by the force. You’re vaguely aware of Logan beside you, claws unsheathing as he steps closer into your protective shield. 

For a brief moment, you feel the power of the storm ebb before it seems to press into you harder. Your knees begin to buckle and your stance slips. “I…I don’t know if I can hold it!” you gasp. 

Logan doesn’t run but instead moves closer, giving you one solitary nod. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, feel the doubt swirling behind them and yet he stays besides you, ready to fight. 

His silent encouragement is enough. 

You are not dying in the fucking Void. 

Gritting your teeth, you continue to push. A guttural scream rips from your throat as black spots dot your vision and blood drips from your nose. You dig down, channeling every last drop of your energy into a final wave, extending yourself deep within the core of the storm. 

The black of the storm begins to retreat and the wind begins to calm. As the first few beams of sunlight filter in through the treetops, your vision fades completely and the world goes black. 

The last thing you feel is a pair of strong arms wrapping around you before your mind goes blissfully blank and unconsciousness claims you. 

+++

You wake up in the cache. 

Dust motes dance in the sunlight streaming in through the broken windows. The light is soft, definitely not the early morning glow from before you left the comfort of your cabin and you wonder how long you were out. With a groan, you try to sit up. Your body is stiff, every muscle in your body aching with the effort you took to banish Alioth. Wincing, you swing your legs out of the makeshift bed, the effort taking your breath away and you can feel the sickly creep of nausea climb up your throat. 

A low voice cuts through the haze. “Take it easy.”

Logan. 

You blink, trying to adjust your eyes to the light and find him sitting on the floor, one leg pulled up to his chest as a bottle of whiskey hangs between his fingers. He takes a long pull and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“How long was I out?” you ask, your voice hoarse. 

Logan doesn’t answer immediately. He reaches over at a box beside him and then rolls a water bottle towards your feet before he finally mutters, “A day.” 

You accept the bottle with a nod of thanks. Taking a slow sip, you close your eyes as the liquid soothes your throat even as your body protests the movement. You’ve never used your powers to that degree before. Fuck, you didn’t even know you could. A perverse sense of pride licks at the edge of your exhaustion. 

Lowering the bottle, you breathe deeply in an attempt to settle the nausea rolling in the pit of your stomach. You glance at Logan and find him watching you, his eyes sharp, calculating. 

“You owe me some answers. You said you knew me.”

You meet his gaze, the weight of his words pressing down on you. After hundreds of encounters with different Logans, it was never easy explaining to him what you were. For a long time, you didn’t even have a name for it. All you knew was that your consciousness, all your memories, everything that you are moves across different universes and inevitably crosses paths with Logan. It always felt like an invisible string, guiding your soul to his. 

“I’m a temporal nomad.”

Logan’s eyes narrow as he glares at you. “A temporal what?” His tone is laced with skepticism. 

You take another sip of water, giving yourself time to gather your thoughts and push away the throbbing at your temples. “A temporal nomad. I don’t die, not in the way you think, anyway.”

Logan doesn’t move, but you see his grip tighten on the bottle in his hand, his knuckles going white. “You tellin’ me you’re immortal?”

“No, not immortal,” you reply, exhaling slowly. “When I die, my consciousness moves. I reincarnate in a different universe. Eventually I regain everything—my experiences, my memories, my feelings. It’s why—” you pause and take a deep, steadying breath. “It’s why I always find you.”

Your words hit their mark and Logan’s eyes flash with something you can’t quite decipher—shock, disbelief, maybe some anger. He sits up straighter, tipping the whiskey bottle to his lips without breaking eye contact. “You always find me?” he asks, his voice a low rumble. “We’ve met before?”

“I’ve lost count of how many time, actually,” you admit softly. “But in every reality, every universe, I find you. And we’re not just friends, Logan.”

Your words linger in the air between you and your heart pounds loudly in your chest. Logan stands suddenly, the now empty whiskey bottle clattering to the ground. He runs a hand through his hair before scrubbing it down his face, his jaw clenched as he paces within the small space. A mirthless chuckle escapes his lips. “This smells like bullshit, sweetheart.”

Your heart aches at his use of the word sweetheart. It’s one he’s always preferred for you, usually spoken with reverence, like a prayer falling from his lips. Except now it’s casual and cold, something with a sharp edge instead of softness. 

“I know how crazy it sounds. Believe me, Logan, it took me several lifetimes to wrap my mind around it.” You stand, your legs wobbly with the effort and you wince against the pull in your spent muscles. “But I know you.”

His expression hardens. “Yeah? Well, I don’t know you. And if you really knew me, you’d know to stay the fuck away from people like me.” Logan’s pacing grows more hurried, his hands clenching into fists. 

“I can’t,” you say softly, taking a tentative step closer towards him. “And I don’t want to. While I might not know the Logan in front of me or the nuances that make you different from the others, I know you.”

His nostrils flare and he lets out a low growl. “Stop.”

“I know the way you fight,” you continue, ignoring his warning. “I know the way you carry your pain as if no one else can possibly shoulder that weight. I know—”

“Stop!”

“—how you push people away to protect them, but that deep down you hope someone will push back. You may carry a lot of self loathing, Logan, but even you know you’re not heartless.” 

Logan’s fist slams into the wall behind him, the sound reverberating in the small room. He stands there, chest heaving, his knuckles bleeding from where they made contact with the rough wooden planks. You watch as the raw skin knits itself back together, his head hanging low. 

His jaw clenches as he wipes the blood from his hands, his breathing still ragged and posture rigid, itching for a fight. He glances over at you, his expression softer but still rough. 

“We’re done here,” he growls, but his voice soft, more broken than angry. 

Logan turns without another word and all you can do is watch him leave.

+++

You spend the rest of the morning dozing in bursts of fitful sleep, your confrontation with Logan taking its emotional toll. Your eyes burn with unshed tears and for the first time in your life, you feel as if you’re destined to wander this universe alone. 

But you can’t think about it. 

Not now. 

Ignoring the ache in your limbs, you pack up what supplies you can and ready yourself for the walk back to your cabin. The sun is a couple of hours from setting, the world bathed in golden light, when you set out. Walking down the steps, you pause at the distant crunch of boots on the gravel. You feel your pulse thrum in your chest as the sound gets closer and then he steps into view, his eyes locking onto yours. 

Logan. 

The sight of him standing there fills you with a rush of conflicting emotions. Relief, angry, anxiety and you’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak first. He looks the same—tired, disheveled, but steady and strong all the same. Neither of you moves, unspoken words hanging between you.

“I shouldn’t’ve left,” he says finally. 

For a moment you say nothing. Because it’s exactly what you want to hear from him. Except, because you’re beyond exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally, you say, “No, you fucking shouldn’t have.” 

There’s definitely more bite in your tone than you intended, but the release of some of your pent up anger feels so good you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Logan’s eyes narrow as you move past him and keep walking. “Wait, so I come back here to apologize,” he begins, following close behind you, “and now you’re gonna just walk away?”

“You know, you never even thanked me for saving your ass,” you say, side stepping a downed log. “Just started demanding answers and then tucked tail and ran when you didn’t like what I had to say.”

He grabs your wrist and you stumble into his grasp, your breath hitching in your throat as you stand almost chest to chest. “I didn’t fucking ask for any of this!”

His anger bleeds into you, curling around your skin where his fingers press into your pulse point. You feel your nostrils flare and you’re itching for something to hit as you stare up at him, his jaw clenched. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you know you need to reign in your emotions or you’ll ignite the fuse between you. 

“You think I did?” you ask, pulling your arm from his grasp. Your voice is calmer, but just as sharp. “You think I want to relive the grief of mourning you over and over while also finding something new to love about you? You think I wanted to be banished to the Void all because my soul just can’t die when I do?”

Logan’s expression softens and he scrubs a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look. I’ve had a shitty coupla days here. And you’re saying a lot of shit I don’t understand.”

He seems weary, then, and any remaining anger you harbor towards him dies in your veins. You take a deep breath in and blow it out slowly. “You don’t have to understand right now. Just—just trust me. Please?”

You hate how your voice breaks just a little.

Logan nods then, the barest tilt of his head, but it’s enough.

He continues to follow you through the woods back towards the cabin and for a while neither of you speak. It should feel awkward, especially now, but it doesn’t. You’re so used to his brand of stubbornness and reluctance to see what’s right in his face that this is the most at home you’ve felt since you got here. 

“So,” you start after a few minutes of silence, “how did you end up here?”

Logan huffs. “Some asshole in red spandex dragged me here and I said I need to help save his universe.”

“And can you?”

His step falters and you pause to look a him, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the trees. “I couldn’t save mine.” The weight of his words linger, heavy with a burden only he alone has been shouldering. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he brushes past you and keeps walking. 

“Wanna talk about it?” you ask, catching up with him.

Logan growls. “No.”

“Alright, maybe later then,” you reply and he simply ignores you and keeps on walking. “Where’s this asshole friend of yours?”

“I left him tied up in the van.”

You had long passed the spot where you found Logan by the beat up van and the road was deserted. Based on the subtle smirk on his face, you figure Logan already knows that. Whatever his relationship is with the stranger, he seems somewhat happy to be rid of him and you don’t push him further. Although, you can’t help but wonder what happened to the van and whose hands it fell into. 

Logan’s gait slows as the cabin comes into view through the trees. He follows behind you as you clear the space, checking for any stragglers that may have come along while you were gone. Pushing open the door, you watch as he looks around, taking in the small space. 

“You’ve been living here?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it living, but sure,” you comment, throwing your backpack on the table as you sit down. You can’t help the groan that escapes your lips as your muscles relax. “You can stay here if you want. I didn’t just let you follow me for your sparkling personality, you know.”

Logan actually laughs at that as he sits down on the small couch. His face lightens up, eyes crinkling just a bit at the corners, and for the first time since you found him, he seems unburdened. A blossom of hope grows in your chest and you grasp onto it, holding tight to the one bit of light you’ve had in this month of darkness. 

“Thank you,” he says softly. 

You know he means for more than the offer to stay and you return his smile with one of your own. “You’re welcome.”

As the sun starts to dip below the horizon, you bring out some extra blankets and a couple of pillows and help Logan turn the couch into a makeshift bed. You turn to leave when you hear him ask, “You really find me in every universe?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds terrible.”

You give him a small smile as you lean against the doorframe to the bedroom. “Oh, it’s not all that bad. I get to fall in love with you all over again.”

+++

You wake in the middle of the night to the sound of low, panicked growls coming from across the room.

You quietly slip from the bed and tiptoe towards the couch. Logan writhes beneath the sheets, pain etched across his face as he wrestles the demons in his sleeping mind. Taking a deep breath, you center yourself and focus every fiber of your power in his direction, hoping the waves of calm can break through whatever battle he’s fighting deep in the recesses of his mind.

Logan growls deep in his throat, the sound guttural and raw, his claws unsheathing and tearing at the sheets beneath him in agitation. A fine sheen of sweat beads along his brow and pieces of hair are plastered against his damp forehead.

“Logan,” you say softly, trying to break through the fog of his nightmare. “You’re safe, Logan.”

Your powers are waning, the stress of fighting off Alioth having left you depleted. You push down the ache, the tug in your brain demanding that you draw back, and instead kneel down in front of him, trailing your fingers across his palm and over the pulse point in his wrist. He jerks at your touch, his claws coming close to your skin, but the contact is enough and you feel his pulse slow beneath your fingertips.

You continue to speak in hushed tones, your voice barely above a whisper. “There you go, Logan. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Logan’s breathing is ragged, his eyes squeezed shut. You can feel the tension in his body, his muscles rigid with the need for release. You keep your fingers against his wrist, your touch steady and calming, as you bring up your other hand to smooth the lines along his brow.

“There you go,” you continue to murmur, “Focus on my voice. Focus on my calm.”

Gradually, his growls subside and his breathing begins to even out as the nightmare loses its grip over him. His muscles lose their tension and relax and the frantic movements of his limbs subsides. With one final deep breath, he stills, his claws retracting and he settles back into a peaceful sleep.

You sit and watch him for a minute, taking in all of his features and simply admiring him for the first time since your last life with him. This Logan is different—they all are in their own way—but this one a little more than the others. He seems wearier, more worn down, his usual scowl lines etched deep. There’s an exhaustion in his eyes, too, you haven’t seen before and you wonder if this Logan actually ever rests. 

As you stand, you feel his fingers circle loosely around your wrist and give a small tug. You look down to where he’s touching you, his skin hot against yours, and you glance up to find him staring at you through half lidded eyes. 

“Stay.” It comes out in a low whisper and as you open your mouth to protest, he adds, “Please.”

You could never deny him in any universe.

The couch is barely wider than he is, yet he shifts to make a sliver of space for you to slot yourself into. It should be awkward, the way you press yourself between the couch and the solid warmth of his frame, but it’s not. You hitch your leg over his hip, forcing your legs to tangle, as you rest your head against his chest. His heartbeat is strong and comforting beneath your ear and you find yourself quickly relaxing into his touch.

As you fall asleep, you feel his arm curl around you, tucking protectively against your ribs.

+++

When morning breaks, you’re alone. The warmth of his body is gone and you find yourself shivering. Pushing to sit, you wrap a blanket around yourself before standing up. 

The cabin is empty.

You try and ignore the sliver of panic that threatens to slip its way down your spine. 

Opening the front door, you pause when you find him sitting on the dilapidated porch, staring absently out at the trees. He glances up at you and watches as you sit down beside him. You hug the blanket closer around your shoulders and sit with him in silence.

You don’t mention last night.

“So,” you start, “what’s the plan?”

Logan raises his eyebrow. “You planning on stickin’ with me?”

“If you let me,” you reply with a smile.

You listen as Logan explains the events of the past couple of days, including Wade’s abduction of him from his own universe and how they both became to be bloodied and battered in the van. Your ears perk up when he mentions Paradox and returning to Wade’s universe. 

“You think he can actually get back?” you ask, willing yourself to not hold onto too much hope. 

Logan huffs. “Probably not.” 

“And yet you’re out here trying to think of a way to find him,” you say. “Why?”

A frown tugs at Logan’s mouth and he looks down at his hands. Eventually, he reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out a crumpled Polaroid. He tilts it towards you and you look down at the group or smiling people. “He’s got something to go home to,” he says, thumbing the edge of the photo. “I got nothin’.”

There’s something soft in his gaze as he looks down at the photo, some lingering hope he’s too afraid to put words to. 

“I’m sure you have something, Logan,” you say quietly. 

His expression hardens then, jaw tightening, as he slips the photo back in his pocket. “Had. Past tense.” Logan stands then and looks down at you. “Get ready. We’re leaving in five.” 

+++

You get ready quickly, changing your clothes and splashing water on your face before making sure your pack was sufficiently stocked. You were hoping you wouldn’t be needing it for much longer, but you didn’t want to express that thought out loud. Despite Logan wishing to go back to find Wade, you knew he wasn’t convinced this would end well.

Logan’s already started down the path as you jog down the cabin steps, swinging your pack up onto your shoulders. Catching up with him, you hand him the Pop-Tart you pulled out earlier. “Breakfast? They’re unfrosted, because this is the Void, but it’s something.”

He looks down at you, a strange expression on his face, but he accepts your offer. “Thanks,” he says, taking a bite.

“So, where exactly were you headed when you both decided to maul each other silly?” you ask, keeping pace with him as you walk through the woods.

“Johnny had mentioned a resistance out in the Borderlands,” Logan answers, swallowing the bite of Pop-Tart. “Figured we might find some people who could help us get control over Cassandra.” 

You nod. “You’re not far from the Borderlands. Maybe four or so miles from he cache. I haven’t ventured out that far, but I’ve heard there’s a few outposts where others have hunkered down.”

“Then that’s where we go.”

You walk in comfortable silence, leaving Logan to his thoughts as you travel further away from safety and into the unknown. You stop at the cache briefly, pausing only snag a few water bottles before moving on. 

A couple of miles past the cache, Logan suddenly stops, sniffing the air. His posture goes rigid, on alert as he slowly moves forward, beckoning you to follow him. A few yards away, the beat up van comes into view, parked alongside a lodging that looks as if it was built into the very earth itself. 

Logan’s arm darts out, stopping you. “Stay close,” he commands quietly, stepping cautiously closer towards the structure.

You follow behind him, every sense on alert as you step inside. The place is quiet, but then you hear it—the soft rustle of snoring. And then Logan’s soft, “Ah, fuck me.”

Peering over his shoulder, you find a sleeping Wade spread eagle on the bed. Logan side steps the bed, ignoring the sleeping man, and begins rummaging through the place. Finding a bottle of whiskey, he groans in delight, twisting the cap off and taking a long pull. 

“Really Logan?”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “What else would you like me to be doing?” he asks, biting. 

“You came all this way to find him and now you’re gonna just drink?” you ask in disbelief. It gnaws at you, his indifference. You can feel little frissons of indignation licking at your skin and you have to tamp down your emotions before they bleed into him. 

Logan shrugs. “He’s asleep. I ain’t draggin’ him anywhere.”

You cross your arms, glaring at Logan in frustration. “I didn’t follow you here to watch you stand around and get drunk. Wake him up.”

He gives you a sidelong glance, his brow furrowing. You don’t relent, your stare pointed as he takes another long pull from the bottle. Muttering to himself, Logan makes his way over to the bed and gives it one swift, forceful kick. 

Wade jolts awake with a loud, exaggerated snort. He looks between you and Logan, his eyes finally settling on you. “Who’re you?” he asks, looking around as if expecting an answer. “When did the script get rewritten?”

You look at him quizzically, your eyebrow raised. “Who are you talking to?”

Wade huffs. “The audience,“ he says, gesturing towards the wall.

“Does he do this often?” you ask Logan in a whisper.

“Hasn’t stopped since he fucking dragged me here,” Logan replies. 

Your attention is diverted as Wade suddenly rolls from he bed, crossing the room and two large strides. He unsheathes one of his katanas, pressing himself against the wall and then he’s pinned on the ground as a woman pulls a blade of her own. After a moment, she lets Wade up and two more people follow into the room behind her. 

Logan eyes each one with suspicion as introductions are made and you can feel the tension growing within him as he continues to drink.

You jump as Gambit uses one of his playing cards to burst the bottle of whiskey in Logan’s hands. Logan ignores your pleading look and Wade’s admonishment as he grabs another bottle with a soft, “Boo boo boo.”

When Laura enters, you feel Logan’s interest pique, something heavy weighing on him. They both look towards one another, taking each other in and you don’t miss the recognition in Laura’s eyes.

“Do you know her?” you ask Logan, sliding closer to him.

Logan shakes his head. “No. But Wade’s Logan does.” He takes another long drink from the bottle, eyes still trained on her.

Wade continues to talk with the group, recapping their time in the Void and how they managed to escape Cassandra’s lair. Logan punctuates the conversation with vitriolic quips of his own, drinking more as Wade tries to get the group to form a team.

You try to send your power Logan’s way, trying to bleed into him some calm, but he shakes his shoulders and brushes you off. “Don’t fucking bother, sweetheart.”

“I can help you, Logan.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for it.”

As Wade rallies the group into a cohesive unit, gaining their support in taking down Cassandra, Logan huffs a bitter laugh. “You’re all fucking dead.”

“Oh, my god, read the room,” Wade chides. 

+++

Logan storms off, one bottle of whiskey fisted in each hand. You want to follow after him, but Wade stops you. “Let him go, cupcake. Peanut’s in a fragile state and you’re too pretty to become mincemeat.”

You shoot a glare at him and brush his hand away from your shoulder. “No, he only seems to sink his claws into you,” you bite back, but the anger leeches from your voice. 

“Spicy,” Wade comments, “I like you. The script editor worked overtime on you, I can tell.”

“Yeah, well the jury’s still out over here,” you say, but you can’t help the twitch of a smile tugging at your lips. 

You glance over at the door and feel Wade sidle up beside you. “Seriously, cupcake. Chasing after him is like trying to catch a raccoon with rabies. Might be fun, but it’s not worth the bite.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, peering over at him, “And how long have you known him?”

Wade pretends to look down at his wrist and taps a non-existent watch. “Four days, six hours and thirty-two minutes,” he says with a smirk, “but I don’t really like to put a timestamp on friendship."

With a groan, you plop down on the bed and rub at your temples. “Is everything a joke with you?”

“Mostly,” he chirps with a grin. He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms as he watches you. “But I have been known to press pause occasionally.” Wade regards you for a moment, a slight tilt to his head. “Honey badger does it for you, huh?”

Sighing, you lay back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. “I have followed Logan through millennia, Wade. I can’t remember a time anymore where I haven’t loved him.”

“His mutant dick that good, huh?”

You half laugh, half snort and shoot him a pointed look. “Not everything is about sex, Wade.”

“Agree to disagree,” he says with a shrug. “We’ve all got emotional baggage, mine is definitely over the free to fly limit, but that guy? Literal mountains. Centuries worth, even.”

“Exactly,” you say, sitting up. “I’ve helped him carry more than you can imagine. Logan may push people away, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need someone to stay.”

Wade cocks his head, considering your words and his expression softens. “You know running after him isn’t going to fix him.”

“I’m not trying to fix him,” you reply. “He just needs to know someone is there for him.” 

“Well, it’s your funeral, cupcake,” he says with a sigh. “I promise I’ll give a really moving eulogy. But, I do think if anyone is gonna convince tall, dark and brooding out there to join us, it’s you.”

You give him a soft smile as you stand. “Thanks, Wade.”

“And just so you know,” he calls after you, “I’m open and willing to being your mutant dick rebound.”

You roll your eyes and walk out the door.

+++

You step outside and see Logan sitting by himself in front of a fire not too far from the lodging. Walking quietly, you stop when you see Laura approach him and sit along side him. You’re close enough that you can hear their words—hear Logan tell her about the suit, about how he found the X-Men, his friends, dead. 

The anger, the loathing, this Logan carries comes into focus and you can’t help but wonder how long he’s lived with this weight upon his shoulders. Suffering alone with only the bottom of a bottle to quiet the thoughts that scream in his mind.

As Laura eventually leaves, she catches your eye and gives you a small nod.

You feel a strange kinship with her. She too has memories of a Logan who no longer exists and who is radically different from the one she has now. You wonder what she’s thinking and have half a mind to follow after her when you hear Logan call out, “I know you’re there.”

You turn back towards where he remains sitting in front of the fire, the whiskey bottle now more than half gone. Closing the gap between you, you sit down alongside him and watch as he continues to stare down into the fading fire.

“How much did you hear?” he asks, taking a large swig from the bottle. 

“Enough,” you answer simply.

Logan grunts and takes a long pull from the bottle, his lips glistening as his swallows get sloppy. “Well, now you know. I’m the worst Logan,” he almost spits, his tone dark and bitter. “You drew the short straw with me, sweetheart.”

“You know I don’t think that,” you say softly. 

Logan doesn’t respond and instead finishes the rest of the whiskey, tossing the bottle somewhere behind him. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he looks over at you. “You actually gonna join them tomorrow?”

“Are you?”

“It’s a fucking suicide mission,” he answers. “You want to walk up to your death, be my guest.”

“If you’re so convinced this is a suicide mission, why don’t you want to go?” you counter, his ire beginning to bleed into the space between you and creep uncomfortably along your skin. “You afraid you might come face to face with actual death and realize that’s not really what you want?” 

Logan’s gaze flicks up to your face, his eyes dark, dangerous. “You’re fucking pushin’ it.”

“Good! Someone fucking should be!” you exclaim, standing from the fallen log. Maybe Wade was right—maybe this was futile. In every universe Logan could be a stubborn ass, but this one was particularly obstinate. “Do you really believe you’re so unredeemable, Logan? That you’re just a vile mutant who doesn’t deserve sympathy after his friends were brutally murdered?”

You can feel his rage boiling just under the surface of the thin veneer of calm. His eyes pierce into you, pinning you in place as he stands to his full height, his fists clenched tightly. 

“You don’t know shit about me, sweetheart,” he growls. 

Anger simmers in your veins, threatening to burn you from the inside out. “Oh fuck you, Logan.”

He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing as his lips curl into a cruel smile. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Me sinking into your cunt while you picture whatever version of me you think I am.” His voice is a low rumble, adding to the tension threatening to suffocate you. 

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, and it isn’t desire that courses through you, but rage. Your skin prickles and his vitriol ignites something deep within you, something hotter and brighter than you’ve ever felt before. 

“After all this time and everything I’ve told you, you honestly believe that’s all I want from you? You’re a fucking pathetic asshole,” you snap, your voice sharp and laced with venom. 

Logan’s expression darkens, the smirk slipping from his face as his jaw clenches. “You got some balls sayin’ that shit to me,” he spits. 

A small part of you is terrified of him, afraid that he might actually snap. Might actually unsheathe his claws and send you onto your next life without ever having truly lived this one. But you know him, you know him. His pain and rage isn’t towards you, but himself. 

You risk a step closer to him, narrowing the space between you and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, mingling with your own fury. “Yeah, well at least one of us has a pair.”

Logan doesn’t have time to react before you channel your powers towards him, unleashing an explosive burst of energy that sends him staggering back. And then you smother him, smother him in thousands of years of memories, thousands of years of every single feeling you had ever felt for him in every universe you’ve known him. 

The weight of your emotional onslaught brings him to his knees, but you keep pushing, switching from your feelings for him to his feelings for you. All the affection, all the love, all the comfort the two of you shared in every version of your coupling across space and time floods his mind. 

You watch as his expression melts from anger into one of overwhelming vulnerability and pain. His hands, still clenched into fists, tremble beneath the weight of your power surging through him. He looks up at you then, his eyes pleading and your resolve breaks. Tears burn in your eyes and trail down your cheeks, wetting your lips as a scream rips from your lungs.  

Your hold on Logan dissipates as you reign your emotions back under control. You stagger on your feet as your power diminishes, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and broken sobs. You can’t look at him, not yet. If you do, you might actually break. So you do something that you never thought you would do—you leave.

+++

Night in the Void is cool, almost bordering on uncomfortable like everything else in this godforsaken place, but for once it doesn’t bother you. You gaze up at the sky, the haze of distant stars and planets blurring together the more you try and focus on just one. 

You’ve always loved looking at the stars. There was a comfort in knowing you could look up at the sky and see the same constellations in every universe, that there was always one constant among all the variables. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting before you hear the crunch of his boots on the earth, dried leaves and twigs snapping under his heel. Logan joins you on the ground, sitting with a heavy sigh. The maelstrom of emotions swirling within him bleeds into the space between you and you can feel it, thick and heavy and suffocating. 

You risk a glance at him and he looks…defeated. His eyes are red-rimmed and raw and you see something in those hazel eyes you rarely see—fear. Not fear at you, although your guilt would rather have you believe that, but fear of himself, fear of feeling what you’ve shown him. Logan’s breath is slow, controlled, but you can hear the slight tremor in it. 

“I promised myself I would never use my powers on you” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know what it feels like to experience that onslaught. It feels like drowning.” Your voice cracks and you fight to keep the guilt burning in your chest from consuming you whole. “And that was just a fraction of what we’ve felt across lifetimes, Logan.” 

Logan stays silent but gazes at your face, eyes flicking across your features, drinking you in. The scrutiny makes you shiver. Before you isn’t The Wolverine, the X-Man people in his universe loathe, but a man left raw and vulnerable. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says slowly, his voice rough as the words are pulled from him. “You shouldn’t have shown me that.”

You flinch, the weight of his words are a punch to your gut. “I know,” you whisper, wiping tears from your eyes. “I know and I’m sorry, I—”

Logan cuts you off with a shake of his head, his eyes now locked onto yours. “I already knew, sweetheart,”he murmurs, his voice low. “You feel like—you feel like home.” 

Your heart stutters in your chest and for a moment you can’t breathe. The words hang between you, heavy and raw, the sound of them something you’ve been craving to hear. 

“I am your home,” you reply softly. 

Logan shifts beside you, closing the space between you as he slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you in. His mouth crashes to yours, his kiss urgent, rough and desperate. 

You reach for him, gripping his shoulders as you kiss him back, the Void slipping away. There’s only the heat of his mouth, the rough scrape of his beard against your skin, the way his other hand tugs at your waist in an attempt to pull you closer. 

It’s messy and intense and you don’t want it to end. Logan kisses you like a man starved, like you’re his last breath of air. 

A whimper falls from your lips as he finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You’re both breathless, his nose softly nudging yours. 

“Please come with us tomorrow,” you whisper against his skin. “Let me take you home.”

He nods once and that’s all you need. 

+++

The morning comes quicker than anyone would like. 

Nervous energy bleeds through the group, everyone knowing they’re on the precipice of life or death, that this may be the last day they ever inhale air into their lungs or feel the warmth of the sun on their skin.

Logan’s quiet, already tucking into Gambit’s liquor, as you sit down beside him. He looks down at you briefly, taking a long long pull before offering you the bottle. You take it from him and take a swig of your own, the amber liquid burning a path down your throat. 

“What are you thinking?” you ask, handing him back the bottle.

He stares down at his feet, swirling the liquid around in the glass. “I honestly don’t even fuckin’ know.”

You reach for his hand and give him a comforting squeeze. He stares down at you for a moment and then drags his gaze up to your face. “Whatever happens Logan, I’ll be right there with you.”

Final preparations complete, everyone piles into the van, you tucking alongside Logan in the hatchback. The ride is mostly quiet, punctuated only with the few occasional quips by Wade just to ease the tension. You brace yourself, gripping Logan’s calf as Blade sends a rocket launcher through Cassandra’s front gate and Elektra floors it through the explosion. 

The others leave the van first, forming a line of defense. You look up at Logan and lean forward to press the faintest of kisses against his lips. His fingers curl around your neck and pull you closer, deepening it just enough to taste your mouth. 

“Let’s go,” he murmurs, pulling back. “Stay by me.”

You swallow hard, loathe to let him go, wanting to stay in the perceived safety of the van, but you simply nod and follow him to join the others.

Fighting erupts all around you and you stick as close to Logan’s back as you can. It’s a symphony of chaos—rage, fear and determination all swirling heavily in the air. You feel your power thrum underneath your fingertips as you channel those emotions back towards whoever Logan is fighting, hoping to disarm them—even if temporarily—with their own vitriol in an attempt to give him an advantage. 

The air burns in your lungs as you move through the fight, your mind spinning as you gain distance towards Cassandra’s lair. You can see the others move around you—Elektra and Blade slicing down enemies with their blades; Gambit disarming others with his explosively charged playing cards; Laura fighting in a style all her own, yet so much like Logan’s; and Wade cutting down others like he’s having fun.

A clear path opens up to the ramp leading up to Cassandra and the others swarm behind you, allowing yourself, Wade and Logan to break free from the melee. Logan looks back at you just long enough for you to see the fear in his eyes. You try and remain stoic, even though your mind is racing with all he the ways this could go wrong, and give him a small nod of encouragement. 

You stop short in front of Cassandra as she sits sipping tea, seemingly disinterested in the battle happening just outside her stronghold. “You two escaping I could live with, but coming back willingly…” she trails off, “Boys are so silly.” Her eyes dart towards you. “And you brought a friend!”

“I just need to get home,” Wade says, his tone serious. 

“I’m afraid that’s not an option.”

Cassandra flicks Wade aside effortlessly and Logan’s instantly on alert, claws extended at his side. You attempt to direct your powers at her, trying to defuse the anger simmering below her surface. She rolls her neck and glances at you, intrigue in her eyes. 

“Oh, aren’t you interesting,” she says, effortlessly flicking your powers aside. “I wonder what treats you have hiding in that mind of yours.”

Cassandra steps closer to you, her calculating stare flicking over your face. She lifts one hand up to you and from behind her, Logan growls and moves to attack. You watch, powerless, as she pins Logan to the ground with his own claws. 

She tsks and looks down at him, “That’s enough out of you.”

And then, she’s in your mind, every nerve ending in your body on fire, ready to consume you whole. 

You’re standing in a library, Cassandra at your side. Shelves extend as far as the eye can see, fading into an infinite distance. You walk aimlessly along the shelves, pausing at the entrance of a room simply titled “Logan”. 

“Oh, now this is something,” you hear Cassandra say from beside you. “This is quite the collection you have.”

Your fingers reach out and touch the spines, the briefest flickers of memories emanating from their covers. “I’ve known him for so long,” you murmur. “Been with him through so much.”

You pause in front of one book, the urge to open it nearly overwhelming. Pulling it from the shelf, the pages flutter open and you gasp, the memories of that life flooding your brain. 

You and Logan were married in this life. He worked a simple job, construction. There were no X-men, no missions, no danger. He kept his mutation a secret, showing only you when the memories got too rough, too unmanageable. You were his anchor. You had two kids—girls. And oh, how he loved them. Both of them wrapped effortlessly around his heart from before they were even born.

Tears spring to your eyes as the warmth of those memories flood through you. “I loved that life,” you whisper, putting the book back on the shelf.

“And who wouldn’t?” Cassandra agrees, placing her hand on your shoulder. “So effortless his love for you. So different from now.”

You glance over at her, confusion drawn on your face. False empathy tugs at Cassandra’s sympathetic smile. “Are you even sure he cares for you now? This Logan is so broken, more broken and unloveable than all these other Logans, hm?”

Shaking your head, you try to resist her efforts to batter you, to convince you your soul’s purpose is not worth it. Not worth him. “That’s not true. They’re all worthy. All capable and deserving of love,” you say, your fingers trailing along another spine. “Even this one. Especially this one.”

Cassandra’s face contorts then and…

She’s wrenched from your mind and you fall to your knees, blinking up as you see Wade holding Cassandra from behind, one hand holding Jaggernaut’s helmet to her head. 

Your mind still spins as Logan and Wade confront her, their conversation a jumble in your mind. But you don’t miss her saying either they kill her, or she kills them. Finding the strength to stand, you rise and place your hand on Wade’s arm.

“If I stay,” you start, focusing only on Cassandra and ignoring the press of Logan’s gaze into your skin, “Will you let them go?”

Logan reaches for you and you pull your gaze from Cassandra long enough to press your palm against this chest. You meet his eyes, silently pleading with him to let you continue. 

“Will you?” you repeat, unable to keep the pleading out of your tone.

Cassandra laughs bitterly. “You love him that much? To sacrifice yourself to save him? That Logan, out of all of them?”

You nod, feeling the tears burn in your eyes. “I love him that much,” you reply softly.

Logan grabs your hand then, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t,” he chokes out, voice thick with unspoken emotion, “Don’t do this.”

You smile softly as you reach up and cup his cheek, his beard rough against your palm. You don’t miss the way he briefly nuzzles into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he sighs. “I love you, Logan. In all my lives, in this one and in the next one, too.” The first tear slips down your cheek as you look up at him. “I promise I’ll find you again, Logan. I always do.”

You press a kiss to his mouth, soft and gentle. It lingers for a moment, a desperate, bittersweet exchange as Logan tries to memorize the feel of you. His hands grip your waist, clutching almost hard enough to bruise, but you relish the pain. 

Wade stands beside you both, uncharacteristically silent, his hands still holding Cassandra in place. His usual banter is gone, the weight of the moment not lost on him. “This is the worst fucking idea anyone has ever had,” he mutters, but his tone is soft. “And I’ve had some pretty terrible ideas.”

Cassandra regards you with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “If I let them go, you’ll stay here with me in the Void. Be my ally.”

You nod, “Yes.”

Cassandra’s eyes narrow, calculating, weighing her options. Finally she sighs, “Fine. But you know…no one will remember this little sacrifice of yours. The next Logan won’t even know you.”

Logan growls and you squeeze his hand in gentle reassurance. “It’s okay,” you whisper, your voice finally breaking. “I’ll remember enough for the both of us.”

You step away from Logan, your heart shattering with every step. Wade lets go of Cassandra and you feel the weight of your decision settle heavily against your shoulders. 

Cassandra pulls something from her pocket, slipping it onto her fingers. Before you, a portal opens up, just outside the boundaries of the room. Outside, the raging storm that is Alioth grows near and in that moment, you realize Cassandra was playing a game of her own.

“I figure,” she says, straightening the lapels of her jacket, “that they have approximately four seconds before they’re through.”

Your eyes flick to Logan and you memorize every detail, every emotion written across his face. With one final nod, he tears his gaze from you and he runs towards the portal, Wade alongside him.

And then, darkness consumes all.

+++

You’re unsure how long you’ve been out. The last thing you remember was Alioth screaming towards you, giving you barely enough time to cocoon yourself from his rage.

Cassandra is gone.

Wade is gone.

And Logan—Logan is gone.

You open your eyes and find Remy standing above you. He offers you his hand and helps you to stand. “C’mon, chère,” he says, nodding towards the open portal behind him, “Let’s go home.”

You’re not sure where home is any more, not without Logan, but you don’t have the strength to argue. From the moment you wound up here in the Void, you’ve been looking for a way out. Now that you have one, you know you need to take it. 

Accepting Remy’s hand, you join him through the portal.

You stumble into a familiar room and are greeted warmly by a smiling TVA agent. She’s unlike the first TVA agent you met, her presence comforting as she says your name. “We heard you’ve had quite the adventure.” She looks over towards Remy. “Mr. LeBeau, if you’ll follow this agent here.”

Remy leaves with he other agent, turning towards you with a wink. “Enjoy your man for me, yeah?”

Your heart flutters in your chest and you look towards the agent, trying to suppress the hope you feel in your chest. She smiles and rests a comforting hand on your shoulder. From her pocket she pulls out a small device, pressing a few buttons on the pad. Before you a different portal opens and she gestures towards it.

“Welcome home.”

+++

You stand in front of the apartment door and hesitate before knocking. Your nerves flutter uncomfortably in your belly even though it’s been less than two days since you last saw Logan in the Void. But you’re out now—you both are—and the fear nags at you that maybe this isn’t what he wants. That you aren’t what he wants. 

You stuff that thought down with a shake of your head. Raising your hand, you rap against the door three times and let out a shaky breath. When he opens the door, you feel as if the air has left your lungs and you forget to breathe. Your heart aches at the sight of him. 

Logan stops short, his face falling into one of pure disbelief and all he can do is stare at you.

“Is that my stripper?” you hear Wade call from farther into the apartment. Logan continues to stare at you as Wade pops up behind him, his face lighting up in surprise. “Oh, hey cupcake! Didn’t expect to—“

“Get out,” Logan growls, turning his head slightly in Wade’s direction, his eyes never leaving yours. 

From over Logan’s shoulder, Wade wiggles his eyebrows. “Ah, looking for some afternoon delight?” he coos, slinging his arm over Logan’s shoulder and patting his chest. “This guy has been jerkin’ it constan—“

You hear the sknit of Logan’s claws as they unsheathe into Wade’s thighs. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!” Wade curses. “You’re supposed to be penetrating her, not me!”

“Get. Out,” Logan repeats, retracting his claws. 

“Fine.” Wade pushes past Logan’s frame, limping slightly as his wounds heal themselves. “You’re lucky Blind Al’s already out playing Bingo. Or selling herself for blow. I don’t actually know her schedule,” he comments as he walks down the hallway. “Glad you’re home, cupcake.”

Logan barely waits until Wade is out of sight before tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling you towards him. Your gasp dies on your lips as he drags you inside, shutting the door with his foot and pushing you up against the rough wood. Then his mouth is on yours and it’s warm and wet and wonderful. 

His hands cup your face, fingers moving to tangle in your hair and you feel him everywhere. You whine as he nips lightly at your chin before trailing his lips back up your jaw, licking into your mouth as he kisses you deep. 

Your fingers scramble for purchase, fisting themselves into the fabric of his button-down flannel. 

There’s a desperation and urgency bleeding from him, as if he can’t drink you in fast enough, or hard enough, or long enough to satiate the longing that’s within him. And you’re feeling it too, an ache growing deeper in your belly, a need to be consumed by him fully and you whine into his mouth because he’s not nearly close enough to you.

A thigh slips between your legs as he kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, a moan falling from your lips as you greedily seek friction. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Logan husks against your shoulder, pulling your hips harder against his clothed thigh. 

Your hands cup the sides of his face, your fingers scratching lightly against his beard. You force him to look at you, his pupils blown wide. “I always come to you,” you say softly. “I always come home.”

He kisses you softly then, his mouth slow over yours and he drops his thigh from between your leg. You whine at the loss and he pulls back. “C’mere,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you further into he apartment. “I’m not fucking you for the first time against a door.”

You follow him to the bedroom, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and you can feel the prickle of anticipation along your spine as he turns back to look at you. His eyes never leave yours as he shrugs off the flannel and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Your eyes trace the lines of his chest, the strong definition of his muscles, following the line of hair that leads to the top of his jeans. As you bite your lip, you hear his chuckle, “My eyes are up here.”

“Mmm, yeah they are,” you start, tugging your shirt off and shimmying your pants over your hips, “but the view down there is nice, too.”

Logan reaches for you, his large hands skimming over your hips, over the flesh of your ass and under your thighs, lifting you up and forcing your to wrap your legs around his waist. With an easy flick of his fingers, he’s unclasped your bra and you toss it aside with the rest of your clothes. 

Kneeling on the bed, he lays you down, kissing his way down your stomach, his nose nuzzling along the top of your panties. “Do you have any fucking idea how sweet you smell?” His mouth is hot against your skin and he laughs as you tilt your hips up towards him. “You want me to fuck you with my tongue? Lap at you until you’re seeing stars?”

Molten desire shoots down your spine and you can feel the slick between your thighs. God, the mouth on him was going to be the death of you. 

You prop yourself up onto your elbows and look down at him. “Just fucking touch me already,” you whine, and you hate how desperate you sound. “Haven’t we waited long enough?”

He presses a wet, open mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before dragging his nose along the center of your clothed cunt. You inhale sharply as he kisses over your clit before trailing his fingers along your hip bones and pulling the fabric down. His warm hands palm along your thighs and he opens you up, staring down at you with hunger in his eyes. And then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a hot stripe through your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as his mouth continues to lap at you, pleasure tingling low in your belly and spreading through your limbs.

Logan hums. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart.” His tongue dips down, collecting the arousal at your entrance. “I could die happy between these thighs.”

You trail your hands down over your chest, briefly palming each breast before you continue down and sink your fingers into Logan’s hair. His groan rumbles through you and you don’t miss the way his hips start to rut against the mattress, seeking friction. 

His mouth and tongue continue to move over you, long, slow licks punctuated by gentle sucks and flicks over your clit and you can’t stop the grind of your hips against his face. You feel his smirk against you as one thick finger finally sinks inside your walls, nudging that spot deep inside that makes you squirm.

Another finger slips inside you and a low whine spills from your lips. 

“You’re beautiful like this, you know that,” he says, voice rough, thumb replacing his tongue against your clit as his fingers continue pumping. “All blissed out and needy and desperate to come on my fingers.”

His words zip through you as he fuck you with his hand and you bite your lip. “C’mon,” he purrs, “let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.”

Soft whimpers spill from your throat as he continues to work you, that pull in your lower belly growing stronger and stronger. His hand never stilling, he kisses his way up your body, pulling a nipple into his mouth and then you’re coming, cunt clenching around his fingers. 

Logan licks into your mouth to steal your cries as he continues to work you through your orgasm. Your thighs clamp around his forearm, the pleasure overwhelming. 

He finally stills, pulling his fingers from you and you whimper at the loss. You watch through half lidded eyes as he licks his fingers clean of your slick and you feel that flame reignite in your belly. 

“Take your pants off,” you demand, breathless, pushing at his chest. 

Logan laughs, but allows you to push him onto his back. “You always so bossy after you come?”

You fumble at his belt, undoing his buckle and unzipping his jeans before shoving them down his hips. “Make me do it again and find out,” you taunt as his cock springs free.

He kicks his pants the rest of the way off and you sit back on your heels and admire him for a moment. Your eyes trail from his broad shoulders, down the contours of his chest and follow that line of hair down his stomach to between his thighs, where his cock stands, thick and ready. 

“I will never get tired of looking at you,” you sigh, raking your nails down his thighs, deliberately not touching him where you know he wants it the most. “You’re so beautiful, Logan.”

Whatever response he has, dies in his throat as you finally wrap your hand around his cock, giving him one long, firm stroke. He’s hot and heavy and you’re aching to feel him inside you. But not yet. Leaning down, your eyes meet his and you trace your tongue along the underside of his cock, tasting the salt on his skin.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Logan curses, unable to stop the thrust of his hips, chasing your mouth. 

You wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the slit and collecting the precum there before taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. Logan hisses through his teeth, fingers winding their way into your hair to help guide your movements. 

“You’re so warm and wet, sweetheart,” he groans. “But I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

You give him one last stroke as you release him from your mouth and climb up to sit on his thighs. Logan pulls you forward by your hips and you gasp as your cunt slides across his cock. 

“Line me up,” he instructs and you obey without hesitation. 

Gripping him in your hand, you guide him to your entrance, notching him inside before slowly sinking down atop him. A sob chokes in your throat at the thick feel of him inside you, stretching you, making you feel complete. Your entire existence boils down to where he’s joined with you and you relish the burn.

His hands are everywhere as you start to move, caressing your thighs, your hips, up to your breasts and back down, tracing a map on your skin only his fingers can read. Praise falls from his lips in an almost nonstop litany, telling you how wet you are, how tight, how warm, how good you’re making him feel.

“Do you want to know how you make me feel?” you ask, breathless. You look down at him through half lidded eyes and find him just as flushed and wanton as you. “How you’ve always made me feel?”

You continue to rock back and forth on his cock, slow, deliberate movements that leave you wanting, needing more. Logan shifts his hips and finds the leverage to fuck up into you, the deep drag of his cock against your walls making you throw your head back and moan. 

“Fuck,” he growls, his fingers sinking deeper into the flesh of your hips, pulling you somehow impossibly closer. “Show me, sweetheart.” 

You brace your hands against his chest, raking your fingers through the damp hair there, feeling his heart beat beneath your palms. Leaning down, you capture his mouth with yours, the kiss sloppy as he continues to thrust up into you. You move your hands up his neck, your fingers collecting the sweat along his jaw and then, “Feel, Logan.”

It starts slow, an almost faint heat spreading from your fingertips as they ghost over his skin, your power beginning to pulse in time with your heartbeat. Logan gasps and his rhythm falters as the first wave of emotion hits him. You slow, too, your hips barely moving as you run your fingers down from his jaw, over the column of his throat and back to his chest. 

Your palms rest against his ribs as you continue to pour into him all the love and passion he’s ever shown you over centuries. Logan stares up at you in reverence, his face soft as he runs his hands up your sides, over your breasts. He tugs you down towards him, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Do you feel, Logan,” you ask, your breath hot against his lips. “Do you feel how much you love you have in you?”

He draws your bottom lip into his mouth, biting softly once, before capturing your mouth fully, kissing you deep. You hum as his tongue swipes against yours and his fingers tangle in your hair. 

A gasp pulls from your throat as Logan wraps his arms around you and flips your position, forcing your legs around his waist as he begins to thrust into you again in earnest. You feel him deep in this position, each thrust of his cock against your walls hitting that perfect spot inside of you. 

“It’s too much,” he groans into your skin. “Never…never felt like this.”

You rake your nails along his back, relishing in the growl that falls from this throat. “It always feels like this,” you gasp, drawing your power back. 

His arms slide under your shoulders, anchoring you in place as his hips continue to thrust into you. It’s lewd almost, the slapping of skin against skin and the wet noises from where you’re joined. His breath is hot and damp against your skin where his mouth hovers over the pulse point in your neck. 

Your fingers snake into the short strands of hair at the back of his neck and your other hand slips in between your bodies, reaching for your clit. 

“That’s it,” he moans, “use those fingers to get yourself off on my cock.”

You can feel where he’s sliding thickly into your cunt, the wiry hairs at the base of his cock damp with your arousal, and you begin to rub in time with his thrusts. Pleasure zips along your spine, every cell in your body afire at his touch. You feel that telltale tug low in your belly and you know you’re not going to last much longer. 

He slides his hands down from your shoulders, following the curve of your spine, forcing you to arch your back. Taking the opportunity before him, he swirls his tongue over one nipple, then the other as he palms the flesh of your hips in his hands, angling your hips further up into his. A keening whine falls from your lips as he somehow thrusts deeper into you, making your legs shake. 

Logan nudges your hand away from your clit, replacing your fingers with his own as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes are focused on the sight of his cock thrusting into you and the slick smeared across your thighs. 

“Logan,” you gasp, “I’m so close.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he rasps, dragging his gaze up to your face, “I got you. Takin’ me so well, so tight. Gonna spend the rest of my life tellin’ you how fucking good you are.”

His words tip you over the edge, your orgasm rolling through you as you spasm down on his cock, his name falling from your lips. He fucks you through your orgasm, each thrust of his hips sending aftershocks of pleasure along your limbs as he chases his own release. Logan’s thrusts grow erratic and you reach for him, grasping at his forearms, pulling him down to you. 

“Come for me, Logan,” you murmur in his ear. “I wanna feel you come.”

With one final thrust, he comes with a groan, forehead pressed against yours as he spills himself deep within you. You can feel cock spasm as he lazily thrusts through his orgasm, using your body to wring out the last of his pleasure. You hold him close, pressing open mouthed kisses to his jaw as he finally stills within you. 

Careful not to crush you, Logan pulls you to him as he rolls onto his side. He doesn’t pull out, tugging your leg over his hip to keep you close and full. 

You smile up at him, brushing the damp hair away from his forehead. He sighs at your touch, a content sound that tugs at your heart. 

“You really love me in every universe?” he asks softly, brushing his nose against yours. 

“Yes.”

“Even this one?”

“Especially this one.” 

You don’t know what the rest of this life holds, but you do know one thing—wherever he goes, you’ll be right there with him. 

[sleep-0-deprived]

Feels like sugar in me~ (Dom Yandere manager x model male reader) ૮꒰っ˕‹̥̥̥ ꒱ა

WC:. 2.5k

Tags: power abuse, ass eating, voyuer, humiliation, gaslighting/ manipulation, older man-younger man (character is referenced in his mid forties and reader in his twenties) dark content, slight dub con, dacryphilia <33

A/N: my posting schedule has been all wonky the past month! But I hope you guys enjoy and as promised @blond3ang3l ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

Everybody knew that modeling was a cruel line of work, your father told you so ever since you were just a little boy prancing around your bedroom.

Most male models didn’t last more than a month in the industry, you understood exactly why once you started putting yourself out there. Applying to all the big name brand you could never dream to be taken in by but you wanted to atleast try!

Here you were, halfway across the U.S trying to pursue your own little American dream and how else would you do that if not by working in some rundown diner by your apartment. Well that was until you met Him, tall and undoubtedly handsome with black hair having grey streaks through the sides with a small little beard of mostly white hairs, his name hung infamous to anybody who ever wanted to be a somebody, Dean Carter was his name.

You didn’t know him too well, just a local man who liked the diner you worked at for some reason you always thought. But he’d smile at you a little too long or tip you a little too much with his age showing at every glance he handed you. Creases in the corners of his eyes and lips crinkling up in delight when he watched how your hips swayed in your apron working the floor having him in awe. He had to have you—he absolutely needed you.

He’d simply slip you his business card just trying to swoon you under his wing like any big dreaming boy, whispering honeyed promises of fame and being a star on the runway to you anytime you would doubt him. Your fate was sealed the moment he wanted you, he was a man of greed and power and he wanted you in his pocket like a caged bird.

Here you were, eight months later from meeting dean, a photo shoot just being finished by you but you were far from happy. How could you possibly be happy when all you were seen as was the pretty boy who slept his way to fame, and the worst part of it all was the fact they weren’t wrong and all you could do is sit in your designated seat in your dressing room feeling the cold hand clasping your cheek “don’t listen to them baby, you’re just so much more than a pretty face and you know it”

Dean leans down kneeling on his knees with his chin resting on your shoulder blade holding your chin making you look at the mirror straight ahead of you. “Sh-sh doll don’t pout, you’ll ruin your makeup” his lips press to the back of your ear as his hands grip the sides of your seat turning you facing him.

“Not right now dean..” you whimper out silently feeling the hotness in your eyes bubbling up with tears that threaten to peak. “Don’t be that way baby doll, let me make it all better, you know I just wanna help” his voice softens so much your heart wants to believe it’s all real but atlas, you knew so better and yet you still fell.

“Not tonight dean, I don’t feel like it” you sniffle put rubbing your face feeling your warm cheeks under your palms while his hands slip down massaging your thighs in the slacks you were modeling. His thumbs tracing up slowly to your zipper giving it a little tug, you already knew what he was getting at and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him.

“Hush darlin, it’ll all feel alright so soon” a elicit purr fell from his thin lips when he stops after opening up the top of your pants leaving them hanging up on your hips, his hands slipping up to your hip bone and grabbing it gently lifting you up out of the chair and getting you on the counter of your dressing room while his hands guide your thighs apart.

“People will hear us dean” you hush out and tilt your head back looking upwards at him trying your hardest to not let your emotions win tonight. “Well then they’d be lucky, you’re my little show-boy aren’t you [name]? Always strutting down that runway”

Dean’s hands slide up your sides gripping your boxers and the waistband of your bottoms and slid them off down your thighs with ease leaving you in your white socks and the designer shirt, having not made it to putting on the shoes yet.

“O-h shit—“ you go slack in the face with your jaw hanging pinching your brows together when his face shoves between your thighs and nuzzles his way between your cheeks having you spread wide arching your back and holding the marble counter top.

“Taste’s so sweet doll, like sugar on mh tongue” his voice deepens rolling his own eyes back into his skull leaving red irritation marks on your ass cheeks from his stubble while he groans against your hole before lapping his tongue out from his mouth giving a long lick going down your crack leaving your balls neglected while your cock stands half hard.

“Dean, they’re gonna hear us~” you can’t help anymore, you slowly crumble on the counter, reaching your hands back and placing them over your mouth trying to hide how you were crying like a little boy and leaning back against the dressing room mirror internally praying that none of the brand executives made it to your room to see you in all your glory hitching your leg up on the older males shoulder and letting him devour you like a helpless lamb.

Deans tongue presses flat to your rim and keeps rubbing against it before his lips press against your hole sucking at it and gripping your thighs tighter looking up at you the whole time wanting to kiss away your tears.

“My baby boy is such a pretty cryer” he hums in a sickeningly sweet tone coating your rim in a glossy layer of his spit making heat build inside your stomach leaving your cock now fully erect pressing it’s way to your belly button.

“I’m not gonna- I can’t handle it!” A sharp gasp falls from your lips feeling like you’re being torn apart by the man between your thighs. His fingers moving off your thighs only leaving his right hand on your knee trying to keep your thighs from fully closing around his hand while he takes his fingers and snakes his way between your cheeks, letting us index finger prod open the walls whilst he keeps flicking his tongue in sync to his fingers.

“You wanna be a star right doll? Let me make you the brightest one” the movement doesn’t slow or waver leaving your lips trembling against your palm understanding his inward promise, the one he’s told you a thousand times over.

“Close dean” you sloppily slur and cry out feeling your hand slipping from hour mouth when his finger works its way against your prostate having the world around you turn white in a buzz and your cock glaze over with a pearl of semen leaking down the sides of your base making your body clamp up ready for the wave of release to wash over you only to have him pull away from your ass leaving your leg sliding off his shoulder when he stands back up.

“I want you to reach your orgasm from my cock, not my mouth baby doll” his words wash over you when he wipes his hands off and starts undoing his belt leaving his slacks undone while he opens up his fly, the grey waistband reading ‘Calvin Klein’ exposes itself to you before he pulls out his cock showing him already stiff from eating you out.

“Look at the mess you made baby, you’ve got my face utterly filthy” stepping between your thighs keeping them spread open while he presses his face into the side of your neck with your legs slowly lifting up to his hips, “the staff will hear us, I don’t want them to know dean” your hand finds its way into his hair and pulls at it, not even bothering to hide the hot tears streaming down your face.

He reaches his hand off your hip, still holding it tight with his other hand while he holds your chin firm and lifts his head from the crook of your neck pressing hot kisses to your damp cheeks. Dean’s cock presses its way between your slick cheeks letting his cock-head rub and make contact with your rim almost daring to push inside you but not doing so yet.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ve got’cha” his words linger muffled and half audible between his lust filled haze and the wet kisses he left across your skin. Your thighs stay parted up on his hips with your eyes looking up at him feeling humiliated in ways beyond words, unable to stare in the mirror behind you, unable to face what you’ve let him break you into.

“Just push in dean” your sniffles fall on deaf ears but he just smiles down at you and takes his lips off your cheeks placing them on your neck while letting your chin out of his clasp making your ruined face fall forwards on his shoulder when he slips his hands back to your hips guiding you down on his cock. “That’s a good boy, my sweet little angel” he talks you through it making your rim ease up when he sinks into you leaving you feeling every vein of his shaft when it pierces you.

“Sh-sh-sh don’t cry, baby. If you stay nice and quiet I’m sure they won’t hear” his words do very little in terms of easing you. Your neck tilts back looking up at the ceiling and staring through blurred leans as you reach your hands off the counter edges and dig your nails into the back of his tailored suit, leaving lighter colored marks on the fabric while the sound of hushed moans and skin filled up the dressing room.

Dean continued to roll his hips and make out with your neck, butting and sucking on every inch moaning into the skin, not bothering to stop your tears “you’re so pretty when you cry like that Y’know angel”

his voice was far to sweet for the ways he was ravaging your body. His cock pressed up against your prostate with every deep stroke he gave, your cock weeped against your stomach the whole time he held your hips flush against him while working between your legs, making sure his cock rubbed and violated every inch of your cavern.

Dean held your hips tight, softly massaging them and rutting his hips fucking you up against the counter with his canines dragging alongside of your neck so soft you felt like you were on cloud nine and yet you wanted to puke. You’ve never felt so beautiful yet so dirty until you were with him.

You finally look down from the ceiling with a sharp gasp “o-oh Dean-“ your eyes zoom out until they see the dressing room door peaking open, then it’s like bells and gears in your head start churning with your toes curled close to cumming. “Don’t even pay attention to it doll” Dean smooths you or at least he try’s to sooth you but fails, you just shove your face into his shoulder moaning and wailing to yourself when you realize there’s someone entering the room.

“Are you almost ready [nam—“ low and behold the door opened wide standing in the doorway was one of the stage managers for your upcoming shoot today, he stood jaw slacked the clipboard nearly falling from his hand staring at you watching how Dean didn’t bother stopping making the tears flow faster when you look up from dean’s shoulder having your eyes meet.

“Scram, boy. [name] is busy right now” Dean’s voice hardens tilting his head back out of your neck with drool smeared on his chin from a the kissing he was doing to your neck. He doesn’t bother to stop your coupling session but instead shoo’s off the other man. Oliver the stage manager scrambles to leave quickly, not wanting to be in the middle of the situation any longer but you knew him.

You knew within ten minutes the whole brand- better yet label. Would know your secret and that alone made your face go red with shame. “I’m close~ let-me come please?” You plead with Dean knowing that you needed your high, you needed the adrenaline that brought you to heaven before throwing yourself back down to sadness like always.

“Come for me darlin, just let go” Dean croons to you holding you up on the counter steadily thrusting into you already starting to leak more pre cum inside you. Your dressing room door still open wide leaving anyone able to see you being ruined by your manager if they just walked down the hall. Your cock starts to spasm and bob upwards jerking on its own about to cum as your legs wrap tighter around his hips, gripping his back and curling your toes tight arching.

Your walls clamped tight around his manhood when you finally hit your peak feeling rope after rope speed from the pudgy cock head when you orgasm. Dean pulls out of you and comes all over your thighs, holding you tight and panting when his cock throbs and releases its load all over your thighs in a thin and runny mess while you sit panting and truth to wipe away your tears before you can even look back at Dean.

“You did great, so great doll” he murmurs his words leaning down kissing your cheek and wiping your eyes leaving you sitting on your dressing room counter all splayed and ruined with cum coating your skin and runny mascara flowing down your cheeks as you watch Dean remove his hands off you and start fixing up his pants, wiping his cock off before putting it back inside his own boxers.

“I’m sorry I have to run honey, I need to straighten things out and I have an appointment with the magazine executives for your next shoot” with one last kiss on your cheek and an infatuatedly pleased smile when he looks down and sees your thighs coated in his cum, a small peck is forced on your lips before you watch him leave as he always did once he was finished.

Sitting alone in your dressing room, still up on the counter with the door now shut feeling the sadness wash over you from the after effects of your orgasm leaving your rubbing your eyes having to get up and get cleaned “I have to learn to stop crying, I swear” you whisper aloud to yourself walking around the dressing room just cleaning yourself off with a complementary rag and looking at your disheveled appearance in the mirror making you sight, after all how could you not? This same scene replayed day after day with Dean and you knew it would continue to.

[chidorrrita]

・❥・I'm your puppet

You bring up the idea of L using you to distress. He agrees. Absolute filth follows.

: ̗̀➛ l lawliet x gn!reader

: ̗̀➛ cw: smut (pretty obvious), heavy degradation, slight praise, breeding, slapping, slight cum eating, being called pretty little thing and slut, reader is a freak for L

: ̗̀➛ wc: 1000+

: ̗̀➛ a/n: two posts in a week, who would have guessed. anyways please enjoy the degenerate activities here. 

L positions you in the way he wants, pulls you up by your throat, long fingers curling around constricting your breaths, until your body is pressed against his, as his hips snap against the fat of your ass causing a “pap pap” sound to echo throughout your room. 

He’s relentless in his search for pleasure, paying you no mind, as his hand begins to squeeze your throat, the other snakes its way to seize your hip in a bruising grip, and hot pants and low grunts escape his chapped lips as they brush against your ear. Your mind turns to mush, no longer able to distinguish pain and pleasure as it creates a sinful mix tricking you into begging for more. All that comes out is a series of babbles, drool dripping down onto your chest, and L smugly laughs at your pathetic self. Too drunk off this moment to say or do anything as he bends you over, forcing your head into a pillow, to hit that sweet spongy spot inside. You let out a scream of delight as if he understood your pleads, and in return clench around his cock deliciously. He lets out another grunt, deep from within his chest, and smacks your ass letting the sting linger before smacking it again with just as much force. It sends your body jolting forward, too much for your broken mind to handle, and you try to squirm from his grasp, but he drags you back to where you belong. Taking his cock like you were made for this, made to be ruined by him. 

Muffled mewls and a feeble excuse of thrusting yourself back on his dick makes his mind lose focus. Normally crippled by the weight of his cases, L kneels taller now, filled with thoughts of fucking you full. He pulls out, just kissing your hole with his flushed tip, until ramming himself back in, setting a brutal pace on your body. You couldn’t be more delighted. 

It was your idea to help him distress. A method, other than eating a concerning amount of sweets, to relax him. 

You picked at the threads on your sweater as you watched him reach for another stack of macarons after downing two boxes. His fingers danced across his keyboard, quickly typing out a report in some language you can’t discern, before he spots you shyly inching over. 

L stuffs a strawberry macaron in his mouth before asking “woul’ ‘o’ ‘ike o’e” offering you a vanilla one. 

“No it’s okay” you say trying to hide a chuckle bubbling its way out. “I was actually wondering how your job is going.”

He continues to violently chew, “ ‘qui’e ‘ell,” he swallows thickly, “why do you ask?”

“Well,” you peer down to your socks, rubbing your toes against the carpet, “I was just worried if you were stressed. You’ve eaten almost three boxes of those.”

“Sugar keeps the brain awake,” he states matter-of-factly as he goes to grab another one.

Your hand stops his, holding it in place, and he looks up to you slightly confused with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth. He’s trying to read you.

“Maybe you should rest a while. Let your brain reset, you know?” His gaze shifts to his laptop. The report is nearly finished, and it has been weeks since he could sleep for more than an hour. He can never fully rest on a job like he can when he’s with you. His mind is plagued by images of known friends and nameless faces calling him, but you keep them at bay. Perhaps resting will do him some good. 

His voice softens to barely a whisper, “that would be good,” until he corrects himself “then I can continue working.”

“I’ll help you distress.”

L starts to get ready for bed, gingerly changing into his pj’s which really only consists of taking off his pants, and begins to slip into bed until he notices your apprehensive self still standing at the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh. Nothing, nothing,” but you still remain at the door.

His eyes squint in suspicion, letting silence question you instead of him. You quickly relent. “I mean… Well I feel bad now.”

More silence.

You sigh, frustrated at the fact your will power breaks so easily for him. “I was going to ask if you wanted to have sex to distress, but then you were actually going to sleep and now-”

“I would very much like to have sex with you.” 

“-I feel like an asshole- wait what?”

“I said I would like to have sex.”

The air in the room turns thick with the smell of sweat and sex cut by your pornagraphic moans, and L’s harsh pants, and the sound of his heavy balls hitting your ass. 

The position he has you in makes him hit even deeper than you could imagine, leaving you incapable of moving let alone thinking, but no need to think. A pretty little thing like you doesn’t need to think when you have L as your lover. He knows what you need is to be a good little slut and take his cum.

Your hoarse voice says “‘is too much. Can’t take it.” between moans, legs shaking underneath L’s thighs.

He accentuates each word with a thrust. “Yes.” “You.” “Can.” forcing the bed frame to hit the wall. 

He bends over your hunched frame, lips leaving sloppy wet kisses against your neck until he reaches your neck and he whispers “be good for me,” and you cum.

Stars dance around the corner of your vision as a soundless scream escapes you, and your hole tightens around L’s cock making him hiss. He drops to his elbows, succumbing to only shallow thrusts until it’s all too much and he cums filling your hole and pushing it back in with his cock. He stays until he softens and falls out, and his eyes fall on your thighs. His cum is smeared across your inner thighs, dripping down between your ass and on to the bed. He scoops it back up and pushes it in, not wanting to waste a single drop, and you moan at the intrusion. 

He takes his cum covered fingers to your parted lips, already familiar with routine, and you wrap them around his fingers, tongue swirling to get every last bit. You release them with a ‘pop,’ eyes waiting patiently for your reward, and he obliges, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue. 

He gets up to get a towel and begins to get you cleaned up, kissing each bruise he left, and massaging your sore limbs. 

“You did so well for me.”

“Would you say you’re sufficiently relaxed?”

“Yes, very relaxed. Thank you.”

He kisses your head, and tucks you into bed smiling to himself. How he ever got you to be his lover, he will never know, but he is forever grateful you are.

[babeyun]

bubblegum ☆ y.jw [m]

synopsis: from raspberry sour belts to strawberry crème filled chocolates, you know jungwon like the back of your hand...when it comes to candy. he's far deeper than meets the eye. genre: acquaintances to lovers au. candyshop au, college au. fluff, smidge of angst, suggestive themes. pairing: college student!yang jungwon x fem!candy shop attendant!reader word count: 11.9k (sorry...) rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, mentions of food, stress and bad coping mechanisms. jungwon has a sweet tooth. reader and jungwon are both subtly flirtatious in their own ways. reader wears glasses but hates them. there is NO smut in this, just kissing and heavy petting, suggestive themes. pet names (pretty, pretty girl, baby, etc.) what to listen to: bubblegum - newjeans ; crush - seventeen ; trivia 承: love - bts ; blossom - enhypen. author's note: [star dividers by @/saradika here on tumblr!] ah! i came up with this concept so quickly it made my head spin, but i really hope everyone likes it? this is super late, it is past six in the morning as i post this but either way...happiest birthday to my absolute baby, my wonsito. i love u!

SATURDAY, 7:39PM.

"We're out of raspberry sour belts." Jungwon groans inwardly as he hears your voice call through the store, your hands busy with the restock cart as you push past the candy carousels. His hand shoves the tongs back into their slot, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He bites down on his gum, trying not to grind his teeth as he chews it carefully. "You're sure?" He asks meekly, resting his head against the carousel display that showed off chocolate bunnies made for the Valentine's Day sale. You glance up from your cart, holding a bag of sour cherry balls as you nod. He can see your lips moving but he can't hear what you're saying, his eyes too focused on the glimmer of your lipgloss in the low light of the shop.

"Might have some in the back, but it'll take me a minute to check. Feel free to continue perusing, we have those strawberry crème melts you like on Carousel G." The gesture you make with the scoop you've picked up from the candy container makes him snap back to reality, and he nods like he was listening. He wanders off, before hearing you snicker quietly.

"G, Jungwon. As in Girlfriend, not that you'd know anything about that." You call, and he ducks out of sight embarrassedly. 

Jungwon had long been a customer of your father's candy shop. He met you about six years ago, when your father finally allowed you to start working there part-time to save some pocket money for school. The two of you wound up going to the same university a few miles away, and you kept working at the shop – and Jungwon kept coming back.

He had become quite the regular – often finishing the raspberry sour belts, the strawberry crème melts, and your personal favorites: the chocolate almonds. He recalls you scowling when you'd find yourself yearning for a crunchy, chocolatey delight – only to arrive at the shop for your shift and seeing Jungwon, eyes heavy with stress, filling his candy bag with the last of them.  You've learned to settle for the strawberry yoghurt almonds, but they just don't hit the same. (And Jungwon feels guilty, so he leaves the almonds alone every once in a while. He enjoys seeing you smile lightly when you skirt past them and click the container closed to save them for yourself.)

You make smalltalk with Jungwon, asking about his classes and his friends. It's always the same – his classes are okay, his friends are okay, he is okay. He asks you the same questions – your classes are fine, your friends are sparse and you're alright. You're both juniors, you're both maxed out with your schedules and you're both stressed – but it's like none of that translates into your conversations. Almost as if the weight of it all is lifted when you speak to each other, even if it's the bare minimum.

That's about as far as your conversations go anyway, unless you're directing him around the shop as if he'd never been there before. He can't help but let you be his human GPS though, not when he acts like he hadn't been there in years just to hear your voice. As if everything hasn't been in the same spot since your father first opened the shop.

"Uhm, do you guys still have those salted caramel taffies? My friend just asked me for some." He pipes up quietly, and your eyes flicker up to him with a furrow in your brows.

"I think so? We did move those from their old carousel, they should be on the shelf wall now. Above the yoghurt pretzels but below the chocolate raisins. Odd placing, but I don't question my dad." You shrug, your hands now busy with caramel apple suckers and pouring them into the clear bin. He nods, mostly to himself as he skirts to the back, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket. He takes it out, seeing two messages from the same friend that owes him over eighty bucks in saltwater taffy.

NEW! Msg From: Jake [7:43PM] is the cute girl there [7:43PM] you should ask if she's single

He scoffs, shoving his phone back into his pocket and opening the case. He listens to you rustle around, the satisfying sound of candy pouring nothing in comparison to the soft tone of your voice. Sometimes you spoke a lot more, particularly on days where you weren't stuck restocking – or filling in for your coworker, Jaehee…who loved to call out around the holidays.

He hears you walking away, and feels alone as the sound of candy stops. He likes your presence, he may even have a bit of a crush on you.

Okay. He has a big crush on you. He's had a crush on you for three fucking years, and not once has he been able to make a move.

"So stupid." He hears you mumbling to yourself, the furrow in your brows not leaving as he looks over his shoulder at you, seeing your phone in your hand as you typed furiously. He lets his brows raise as he shuts the taffy container, making his way to you and clearing his throat. He stays a few feet away as you look up at him, your eyes tired and annoyed but your voice still sweet.

"Ready?" "Yep. Sorry about…whatever is frustrating you." He winces as he gestures at your phone, and you just scoff out a laugh.

"Not your fault, Jungwon. Jaehee'll be the death of me, you know." You shake your head, shoving your phone in your pocket before turning on your heel and leading the way to the register. Your father insisted on remaining old-school – so much so, that the calculator you used to add up the prices had long lost the numbers off the keys.

"On the scale, please." You tapped it, and Jungwon placed his bag in the metal bowl and reached into his pocket for his wallet. You punched the keys in, turning the calculator to him. Eight dollars, ninety-two cents. "Sounds reasonable." He shrugs, making you smirk. You took the bag off the scale, tying it closed with your favorite baby blue ribbon. Jungwon had often watched you let children choose what color they wanted to tie their bag shut, but you never let him choose. He smiled inwardly at the information that fed his subtle delusion, before sliding a wad of cash into your awaiting hand. "Keep the change." He murmured, taking the bag off the counter when you raised a brow at him, shaking your head. "You're forgetting something." His brow furrowed, and he felt around his pockets. Wallet, phone, keys. He felt his head, sunglasses. "What?" "Say thank you, Jungwon." You smiled, pulling a box of raspberry sour belts out from under the register. The sticker that usually reads the best by date had a new label typed beneath today's date.

MADE FOR: YJW.

His eyes widened, and they flickered up to you as you slid the box across the counter to him. "I thought you said–" "Still haven't heard you say thank you, Jungwon." He scoffed, his ears feeling hot as he took the box between lithe fingers. He cleared his throat, "How mu–" "Say thank you." You repeated, not looking at him as you popped the register open, smoothing the bills he'd given you into their warranted spaces. He sighed, tongue toying with the silver ring through his lip. Your eyes were now pointed, arms crossed on your chest as you waited for him to speak.

"Thank you, Y/N." "You're welcome, Jungwon." This…this was the confusing part of your interactions.

You were curt, short and sweet. Your smile was extended to every customer that crossed the threshold of the shop, your eyes shimmered with delight when someone sampled a recommendation of yours and fell in love with it. You laughed, giggled, chortled with those who cracked jokes, and you empathized with those who came in with broken hearts, in need of a little treat to lift their spirits.

But this? This was reserved for him. It was an unspoken thing you did – never charging him for whatever it may have been that you hid away for him. Whether it was raspberry sour belts, strawberry crème melts…even the occasional caramel apple sucker, he never paid for it and he wasn't sure if it was you being nice or you flirting with him.

It was even worse when you'd touch him softly, casually. Like you had zero idea the effect you had on him. Like the ghosting touch of your palm on his shoulder as you guided him through the shop, or when he said something that made you laugh.

Well…you didn't but that's not the point here.

"Have a good night." You murmured, a soft smile on your glossed lips snapping him out of his trance once more. He cleared his throat roughly, mumbling a you too before skirting out of the shop. The street was damp with rain, and he huffed as he walked towards his car, your lips cemented in his mind.

Does your lipgloss have a flavor? Is it something he'd like? 

Would you let him kiss you?

He groans to himself, yanking his car door open before looking up and seeing you flicking the sign to say CLOSED. Your eyes wander, and they land on him – you smile, waving gently before turning on your heel and walking away from the large windows.

God, he's so fucked.

TUESDAY, 7:40PM.

"We're about to close." You're restocking again when he slips into the shop, your hands covered in blue powder from what he assumes are blue raspberry sour straws that came apart. You look frustrated, so he quietly takes his bag from the front of the shop when you look up, about to reiterate that the shop is going to close.

He sees your eyes change, your shoulders sagging as you give him a pitiful smile.

"Hey, Jungwon. Sorry about the mess. Feel free, but be quick please." You roll your eyes, your glasses sitting atop your head as you squint. He shakes his head, reaching for your glasses and pulling them gently off your head. He holds them up to you, making you grimace at the blue powder from the candy coating the lenses. "Great. Now I'm covered in blue raspberry bullshit and I can't see. This is terrific." You mutter, looking around for the wet wipes you usually kept on your restock cart. Jungwon absentmindedly rubbed the lens of your glasses with his sweater sleeve, the blue powder seeping into his black hoodie. He held them up to the light, before switching sleeves and wiping them again.

You looked back up, wipes in hand to see him hold up your cleaned glasses. You squinted at him, his hands gingerly sliding your glasses onto your face and walking away before you could see the powder staining his sleeves. He rolls the cuffs up, hiding it from view as he beelines for Carousel G. 

The display is now stocked with a new flavor of bubblegum – raspberry swirl. He glances at it before looking over at you, watching you grimace as you carefully pour chocolate nonpareils into Carousel A. He clears his throat, garnering your attention.

"New?" He murmurs, and you blink at him, before putting the candy down and making your way over to him. You slide your hands in your apron pockets, the remaining blue powder looking like an avant garde choice across the white vinyl.

"You okay, Jungwon?" You whispered, his eyes flickering to you before he hummed.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He asked, twirling the magenta bubblegum in his fingers. You step in front of him, taking the bubblegum from his hand and unwrapping it for him. You hold the cellophane taut, prompting him to take the bubblegum from it. He does, his lip jutted out slightly in a pout as he shoves it into his cheek.

"Midterms, maybe? I know your classes are stressful." Your voice is laced with empathy, and he picks at his nails before sighing. Looking up, he sees your laptop and a bunch of your textbooks sprawled across the front counter. "Your classes are stressful too, though. Aren't they?" He searches your face, and you push your glasses up slightly, before running a hand through your hair with a sigh. You shrug your shoulders, as if to say could be worse.

"I'm a little…overwhelmed." He mumbles, fumbling with the cellophane bag in his hands. You nod, plucking a piece of the raspberry bubblegum off the display and unwrapping it quickly, shoving it into your mouth as you sigh.

"I'm sorry. I'd offer candy but it wouldn't be much, would it?" You tilt your head, a soft smile laced on your face as he lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head.

"It does more than you think, actually. Helps keep me grounded, I don't know. I tend to snack when I study, that's why you see me here so often." He rolls his eyes, "I'm trying to break the habit." "Oh, but then I wouldn't see you. That'd be a shame." You sound almost sad as you eye him, his cheeks heating under your gaze. You're about to speak again when you hear the doorbell chime, and you turn immediately to greet the person. Jungwon takes the moment to slink away, hiding himself away towards the back as the person announces they need to place a custom order for Valentine's Day.

Raspberry sour belts…strawberry crème melts…two pieces of pear taffy.

He doesn't pack his bag with much this time around, ignoring the urge to fill it the rest of the way with cherry jelly beans. He peers over Carousel M to see if you're still busy, and sees your smile wide as you carefully fill out the paper on the clipboard for the customer. He hears flavors being rattled off, and you write just as fast as they're being said.

He decides to circle back to the jelly beans, grabbing an ounce cup to fill and duck into his bag. You're telling the customer his total by the time Jungwon is done, and you've exchanged money and goodbyes when Jungwon inches back up towards the front. You give him a quick smile before sneaking over to the door and flipping the sign, waving sorely at a few customers who wanted in. They just give you a thumbs up. "Exciting stuff." Your voice is pinched with a bit of sarcasm as you climb back up behind the counter and gesture to the order, full of fruity flavors and chewy treats. He half-smiles, nodding solemnly before sliding his bag onto the scale as you grab the calculator. You flip to him.

Six dollars and ten cents. You cut the same baby blue ribbon for him as he pulls his wallet out, and he mumbles the same thing about keeping the change as he grabs for his bag. You stop him, holding the bag just out of reach as you frown.

"I know we don't have the same major or have the same classes, but do you think you'd need a study buddy?" Your eyes are serious, and Jungwon feels inclined to say no. He knows he wouldn't get any work done, not when your eyes are so pretty and your laughter makes his stomach fill with butterflies. Not when your voice is so soothing, he could fall asleep just listening to you right now.

He forces himself to find his voice, clearing his throat.

"I don't know if you'd want to do that, I'm going to have to study through the Valentine's Day weekend. Don't you have plans?" He rubbed his neck, and you shrugged.

"I don't have plans, and I assume you don't either if you're going to be holding yourself away to study." You raise a brow, as if daring him to challenge your assumption. He scoffs out a laugh, running a hand through his hair as he shakes his head.

Pretty girl like you doesn't have plans? "No, no plans. Not this year." He shrugs, watching you pull your apron off. You fling it over the back of the chair behind the counter, one he often saw you sitting at if he came in when you were studying. He hears you chuckle slightly, shaking your head as you print a bit of empty receipt paper and tear it off, sliding a pen between your teeth as you round the counter. "This is my number. We can spend the weekend studying like bitchless losers. I'm also free this Sunday, if you are too." You nod as you write the numbers on the paper, folding it quickly and holding it out to him along with his bag. He clears his throat, nodding even though Sunday is his birthday.

"Oh, and Jungwon?" "Yes?" "I hate seeing you so mopey. A hug for your thoughts?" You hold your arms out, and his instinctive response is to fiddle with the silver ring through his lip as his cheeks heat. You wiggle your fingers, a soft smile on your lips as he nods slowly. He puts the bag of candy on the counter, inching into your embrace before you roll your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck, his own instinctively going around your waist and resting his hands in the middle of your back loosely..

You're warm, God, you're so warm. Your hair smells like baby powder, your sweater riddled with a creamy strawberry scent. He can't help but wrap his arms around you tighter, pulling you closer and burying his face into your shoulder. He feels the cool metal of your dangling earring against his neck as you coddle against him with a hum.

"Feel better?" You murmur, the feeling of your breath against the shell of his ear making him shiver. It makes you laugh softly, your fingers coming to the nape of his neck and carding through the mess of waves. You make no move to slip away, but Jungwon tightens his hold around you anyway.

He doesn't know how long it's been until you start swaying slightly, humming softly along to the music still playing in the shop. It sounds like Valentine by Laufey.

"Sorry." He mumbles into your shoulder, blinking slowly. He feels you shake your head, your hand rubbing down his shoulders in an attempt to comfort. You don't move away, and Jungwon is beginning to think he could never get out of your embrace if you don't make the first move.

"Don't be. If I'm honest, this is making me kind of sleepy." You chuckle lightly, continuing to sway with him. "I still have to walk home."

"You walk?" He jerks his head back, looking to see your eyes slightly tired behind your glasses. You shrug, nodding. "Yeah, on most nights. It's fine, though, I only worry when it's raining." "It's been raining all week, Y/N." He says pointedly, his arms still wrapped around you as you roll your eyes. 

"I'll live." "Let me drive you home tonight. You're almost done here, right?"

He doesn't know how he's speaking so confidently, and even you look a bit taken aback before nodding.

"Uh, yeah. Are you sure? I wouldn't want to inconvenience you–" "You're not. I can wait." He doesn't give you much of a chance to say anything, patting your back gently before pulling away. You move around the shop quickly, and Jungwon turns your laptop around to peer at your studying material. All he sees is words ending in -otomy, and he scrunches his nose before saving your progress on the program and closing the device. He spots your bookmarks scattered across the counter, slipping them between the pages and shutting the books, stacking them up carefully. He places your laptop on top of the books, before you skirt back around to the counter, rolling the restock cart into the backroom.

You move behind the counter, hanging the apron up and gathering the money in the register. You count it quickly, shoving it into a manila envelope and scribbling across the front in fuschia Sharpie before sliding it into the safe behind you. He watches as you quietly slip the heavy textbooks into your bag, your face holding a frown as you zip it up. You're about to pull it off the counter and over your shoulders when Jungwon grabs the strap.

"I'll carry it." He says quickly, moving the bag to his shoulder before you can object. He swears he sees a glint of bashfulness in your eyes as you clear your throat, a soft thank you slipping as you round the counter again, swinging your keys around your finger as he grabs his bag of candy (and the little paper with your number.) He steps out of the shop, digging his car keys out of his pocket as you turn the lights off and lock the doors.

"Are you sure, Jungwon? I really don't want you to have to go out of your way." You wince, clutching the keys in your hand as he scoffs.

"Y/N, you're insane if you think I'm ever going to not offer you a ride home after finding out how much your backpack weighs." He grimaces, and you bite back your laughter. "Now, come on. You can give me directions when we get in the car." Like a true gentleman, he opens the door for you. He waits until you're settled in before closing it, opening his back door and placing your bag gingerly in the footwell. He rounds the car, opening his door and settling in quickly, putting his bag of candy in the center console.

"Where to?" He asks as he shoves the key in the ignition, feeling your eyes on him. He peers up at you, your face unreadable. "Y/N?" "Sorry, what?" You blink, and he huffs out a laugh. "I said, where to?" He gestures to the road, and you nod quickly, taking your phone out and typing your address into the GPS. He glances at it, pulling out of his parking spot when he realizes you live in the same apartment complex as he does. "Y/N." "What?"

He scoffs, reaching over and ending the route on your phone. You scrunch your nose, and he holds up his keyfob for the parking garage – the white sticker screaming Decelis Student Apartments. 

"You live there, too? How come I've never seen you?" You gasp, tucking your phone between your thighs and facing him as he fiddles with the radio. He shakes his head.

"You probably live on the West End. I share an apartment with my friends Jake and Sunoo on the North End. Our friends all live on the West End and we never see them at the complex." He snorts, settling when the radio plays out cool jazz. You nod, your lips forming an o-shape as he gets on the main road.

"I do live on the West End. My dad picked my apartment, he said it had the best view of the city." You shrug, and he nods.

"Sunoo picked ours. I wasn't going to move out of the dorms initially, but then my ceiling fell through and the University wanted me to pay for it. I said fuck that and I moved out the next week." He grimaces, and you choke out a laugh.

"Your ceiling fell through?!"

"Tell me about it, man. And I was upset, of course, but I was even more upset because the debris crushed a project I'd been working on for three weeks for my design course. I failed the semester because of that, can you believe it?" You don't respond, opting to bite back your giggles as he huffs.

"It's not funny!" "It's not, it's not. I'm sorry, Won." Won.

He doesn't bother replying, knowing he'd be a stuttering mess. Instead, the car fills with comfortable silence as you settle into the warm feeling of his old car. The warmth blasting through the vents is enough to make you sleepy, and he can tell because you're dozing off in the seat. He lets you nod off, driving carefully through the winding streets of the city. He frowns when he sees a bit of rain start to fall, fat drops of water landing on his windshield as he pulls into the West End parking garage. He'd have to walk in the rain to get to his side of the complex, and likely for over an hour.

He didn't have class tomorrow, either. He could leave his car there…maybe the cold of the rain would make the delusions of you go away.

"Y/N." He called softly, making you stir. You don't open your eyes, only humming in response and stretching your legs. He sees you wiggle your feet, rolling his eyes in amusement before he calls your name again. "Y/N. We're here." "Shit, sorry." You mutter, crossing your arms over your chest and snuggling deeper into the seat. Something about you sitting in his car with him, going home makes his chest fill with an odd feeling. Something feels closer, something feels more domestic than it ever had.

It feels oddly comforting.

"Y/N." He reaches over, unbuckling your seat belt and making you jolt awake. You furrow your brows at him, a scowl on your lips as he smiles. "As pretty as you are in my passenger seat, you have to sleep in your bed. C'mon, I'll carry your bag." "You think I'm pretty?" Your eyes are wide, and he feels his stomach drop to his ass. Did he say that shit out loud? "Of course I do. I'd be an idiot not to." He mumbles back, turning the car off as he unbuckles his seat belt. He can feel the heat of your eyes on him, but he ignores it as he slips out of the car. He's doing mental gymnastics, overthinking everything as he opens your door, offering his hand to help you out. You take it gingerly, and he feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge as he closes the door. He expects you to let go of his hand, but you don't – instead, holding onto it gently as he grabs your bag out of the backseat. He looks up at you as he closes the door, your bag hoisted over his shoulder.

You're just looking at him, a slight twitch of your lips as you tug on his hand.

"This way. I'm 3B." You slot your fingers in his, and Jungwon struggles not to breathe shakily as you pull him through the sliding doors of the parking garage, past the stairs. Your hand is so warm against his, your thumb rubbing gentle circles into his skin as you reach your apartment. Your doormat is shaped like a cinema ticket, ADMIT ONE scrawled across the coir.

You don't let go of his hand as you stick your keys in the doorknob, unlocking it quickly and pulling him in. You let go once he's passed the threshold, a soft tada! from your lips as he takes in your apartment.

This feels like a breach into a new perspective. Your space is spotless, but the coziest thing he'd ever seen in his life. A few throw blankets over a huge couch, lots of mood lightning, a few neon signs across the walls. Your kitchen outlet has a strawberry-shaped night light plugged into it, and lots of Polaroids hung up with clothespins pinched over twine.

"Nice place." He murmurs, looking around quietly. He gestures to your backpack, and you pull out one of the chairs at your dining table. He slips it off, setting it on the cushion before clearing his throat. "Thank you, for the ride and for carrying my things. You really didn't have to." You nod, and he rolls his eyes. "Y/N, I'd do it a million times over. Stop carrying all those books, you're going to hurt your back." He attempts to scold you, but it only makes you smile inwardly, shrugging your shoulders. He inches towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by the steps your relationship has taken in such a short amount of time…

…But God, if he doesn't like it. He could even go as far as saying he loved it.

"Don't forget to text me, okay? We're friends, I don't want you to feel stressed if I can help it." You nod, and he clears his throat as you carefully pry the front door open. He slips out, standing on your doormat as he speaks.

"I'll try not to, I'll save your number when I get home. Goodnight, Y/N."

Something about your eyes is screaming at him, but he can't pinpoint what it is as you trail your gaze around his face. Ultimately, you smile gently, nodding your head curtly. "Goodnight, Won."

FRIDAY, 5:21PM.

"I'm not going to embarrass you, I swear. Not this close to your birthday, anyway." Jake had been begging Jungwon to take him to the shop to see you in person ever since Tuesday, seeing Jungwon walk up to the apartment door typing something into his phone through the Ring camera. When Jake found out it was your number, he flipped.

Literally. A backflip in the living that ended up breaking a lamp. Sunoo's lamp, specifically. You know how that goes.

"You better not. And you're paying." Jungwon grumbles, opening the door to the shop. He doesn't see you, but he can hear you – and you're grumbling. He looks back at Jake, who is peering over Jungwon's shoulder. You're angrily refilling the strawberry yoghurt almonds, muttering about something with your brows furrowed. You seem entirely too upset to even notice that you're not alone, so Jungwon takes the opportunity to glance at Jake. "She's pretty. I'm a little scared, but she's pretty." He mumbles, and Jungwon rolls his eyes as he grabs a cellophane bag and hands one to his friend. They both quietly make their way around the shop, Jake sticking to Jungwon like glue when your head finally whips up, your eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"Jesus, you guys scared me!" You breathe out, your hand to your chest as Jungwon snickers. "Well, you seemed pretty upset and kind of in your own world. Didn't want to poke the bear." He shrugs, and you suck your teeth, about to snip back when you notice Jake behind him. Jungwon sees your eyes go wide, wincing at your unprofessionalism as you try to rectify the situation.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you, uhm…please let me know if you need any assistance." You smile, and Jungwon glances at Jake, who is smiling back with a nod. Jake pats Jungwon's shoulder, mumbling something about circulating the shop to let him have his moment with you. 

You wait until Jake leaves to give Jungwon a scornful look, but he can't see anything but the way your lip is jutted out in a pout.

Cute, he thinks.

"You didn't text me." You say, crossing your arms over your chest as Jungwon opens the chocolate almond container. He scoffs lightly, tonguing his lip ring as he nods, his cheeks heating slightly. Looking up at you, he sees an expectant look on your face.

"I…sorry. I was nervous." He mumbles, wincing as the confident persona he had when he walked in slipped away. You hummed, an unamused look on your face as you dug your phone out of your pocket. "Give me your number, since I have to do everything myself."

Your voice is teasing, so he knows you're not really upset. He feels his face grow hotter as you flip your phone and hold it out to him, and he takes it gently. He types his number in shakily, clearing his throat as he hands it back to you.

"I will see you on Sunday, yes?" You raise a brow, and Jungwon sees Jake's head pop up from around Carousel B.

"Sunday? Jungwon, we have plans." Jake speaks up, wincing as he sees the death glare being sent over your shoulder by the younger boy.

"Plans?" Your eyes are wide with confusion, but Jake doesn't give Jungwon a chance to explain before he slides over and does it for him.

"I'm sorry, we haven't formally met. I'm Jake." He holds his hand out to you, and Jungwon watches as you take it gingerly. You give it a firm shake and tell him your name, but your face is still muddled. "You're roommates, right?" "Yes. Jungwon, does Y/N know it's your birthday on Sunday?" Your eyes widen, your hand coming to cover your mouth as you gasp.

"Jungwon! You let me ask you to study together on your birthday? Are you insane?!" "I wasn't going to do anything for my birthday anyway? I was just going to hide myself away in my room, order takeout and study until my brain melted out of my ears." Jungwon shrugs. Jake rolls his eyes, moving his hair out of his face before speaking to you.

"Y/N, we're having a little movie night. I'm formally inviting you. Bring whatever you want, or nothing at all. Jungwon, give her our address." Jake scoffs, shoving Jungwon's shoulder lightly. "Studying all night on your birthday, are you mad?"

Jake walks away, leaving Jungwon in your presence. You press your lips into a thin line, "You should've told me, Jungwon. I would've left it for another day."

He doesn't get a chance to reply, your eyes softening as you scan his face.

"I feel like a bad friend because I didn't know. I'm sorry, I should've asked."

The sad look glazing over your eyes feels like a punch in the gut.

"No! No, please don't feel bad, Y/N. It really wasn't that important, and I should've told you I had prior plans." He tries, but you shake your head, putting your hands on his shoulders. "Birthdays are important, Jungwon. It is the one day that is all about you. It's important to me." You squeeze his shoulders lightly, and his chest fills with that odd feeling again. Something about you is so, so comforting.

Your hands drop and you tuck them into your apron pockets with a soft smile, and the words tumble out before he can stop them.

"Why would it be important to you? It's not like we're best friends." If you're affected by his words, you don't show it much. You only nod, nibbling on your lip before clearing your throat. For the first time, your smile is different towards him. It's the smile you use with customers who don't get the hint, or those who make you upset by letting their kids cause havoc in the shop. It makes his chest hurt.

"Of course, Jungwon. My apologies."

You turn on your heel, rolling the restock cart away and allowing him to move around freely. Jungwon catches Jake's eyes over one of the carousels, and he's not sure what expression is on his face that Jake's furrows into one of confusion and a bit of disdain. He slinks over, bag full of salted caramel taffy.

"Everything okay?" He murmurs, and Jungwon pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Let's just go home." He whispers, watching as you pat the top of your head for your glasses. You slide them down your face, swiping your hair out of your eyes and settling back behind the counter. You continue to nibble on the inside of your cheek, your focus now on your phone screen as you begin typing across the screen.

The two of them trek up to the counter, and you tuck your phone away to help them check out. You tap the scale lightly, and Jake sets his bag in it. You give Jungwon a pointed look, and he shakes his head, crumpling the empty cellophane bag in his hand. Shrugging, you click the numbers into the calculator, flipping it over for them to see. "Nine dollars, fifteen cents." 

Jake digs his wallet out but Jungwon is faster, handing you a wad of cash and mumbling about the change. He doesn't even give you a chance to ask Jake what color ribbon he wants to tie his bag, because he takes it off the scale and pushes it into Jake's chest.

"See you around, Y/N." Jake sighs as Jungwon sulks out of the shop, and you shake your head disappointedly. "See you, Jake."

Jungwon's hand is buried in his container of cherry jelly beans, head stuck between his textbook when his phone buzzes on his desk.

NEW! Msg From: Y/N [7:49PM] hi, jungwon. it's y/n. [7:49PM] i just wanted to say i'm sorry for earlier. it's been weighing on me a bit. [7:50PM] i hope your birthday goes well :) don't worry about studying together, and have a good valentine's weekend!

He sits up quickly, snatching his phone off his desk. His lock screen widgets tell him it's raining, and the rumble of thunder confirms it.

Msg To: Y/N [7:53PM] i'm coming to drive you home, it's raining. [7:54PM] we can talk in person, okay?

He doesn't wait for a reply, shoving his phone in his pocket and grabbing his keys off his nightstand. He walks right past Jake and Sunoo sitting on the couch, watching reruns of Bad Girls Club. "Woah, woah! Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Jake calls over his shoulder, making Jungwon huff as he pulls on his windbreaker. "Giving Y/N a ride home. It's pouring out there." He mutters, grabbing his umbrella from the stand as Sunoo peers over Jake's head.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? The forecast said the rain is only going to get worse." Jungwon just sighs, zipping up his windbreaker before giving them a pointed look. "I'll be back." Neither of the men get a chance to say anything because Jungwon slams out of the apartment, barreling down the hall towards the parking garage. He finds his car by clicking his keyfob several times, wincing at the loud cracks of lightning across the night sky. He manages to pull out of the parking garage safely, clicking his tongue as he turns his heater on blast.

The drive to the shop is only six or so minutes, but the rain is coming down so strong that he can hardly see the road. His hazards are on, and he takes it slow – eventually seeing the lights of the shop come into view. He parks incredibly slowly, worming into the spot with practiced precision. Grimacing, he opens his door and shoves his umbrella out first, turning the car off quickly and sliding out. He slams the door a little too hard, but skips over the forming pools of water on the curb.

He's walking quickly towards the shop, seeing you scribbling on another manila envelope. Pulling the door open, your head snaps up, eyes wide before you blink. He doesn't speak, opting to shake his umbrella off outside before setting it on the black mat that you have in front of the door. Wiping his feet, he carefully makes his way over to the counter.

"I was an asshole, Y/N." You blink at him, flipping the fuschia Sharpie between your fingers.

"I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry. I just…it's not a big deal to me. If it had been, I would've told you. I wouldn't have said yes to studying, and I wouldn't have planned to turn my phone on Do Not Disturb the entire day if I had cared about my birthday." You blink again, nodding softly. Letting out a soft breath, you fiddle with the crease of the envelope in your hand, tapping it against your palm.

"Just because it's not something you care about, does not mean that the people who care about you shouldn't care. You should let yourself be celebrated, you should let yourself feel loved, Jungwon. We are surrounded by so much anger and hatred in this world, should we not cherish the love and appreciation that rains upon us on our special day? A day that comes once a year. Anniversaries, birthdays…those things are important." Your voice is gentle, but he feels it deep, deep in his chest.

"Studying can wait, you have your entire life to study and learn. Living in the moment, making memories, even if it's just sitting around a television and watching a movie together. That matters, those moments count. You should cherish them, don't you think?" You're leaning slightly over the counter, and he sighs inwardly, but nods.

"Yeah." "Yeah?" You whisper, a soft smile on your lips as you reach over and ruffle his hair. He swats your hand away carefully, making you snort as you turn around and slip the manila envelope into the safe. He waits quietly as you pack your backpack, instinctively reaching for the strap and hoisting it over his shoulder as you walk around the counter. You grab your coat off the rack in the entrance, fishing your keys out of the pocket as you tug it on.

You flick the lights off, and Jungwon steps out first, opening his umbrella to cover the two of you as you lock the door.

"Man, it's really pouring out here, huh?" You mutter, tucking your keys into your pocket as Jungwon nods. The two of you walk in silence to the car, everything panning out the exact same way it did the first time. Jungwon scrunches his nose as he steps into the car, not bothering to shake the umbrella off as he tosses it into the back with your backpack.

"I'm sorry, again. I don't know what came over m–" You slide your hand over his mouth, the sweet scent of raspberry floating off it. "Stop. It's over, okay? We move forward, no looking back."

His okay is muffled, and you give him a half-smile as you drop your hand, leaning your head back on the seat. You reach into your coat pocket, and hold out a piece of raspberry swirl bubblegum. "No more apologies, Won." He takes it quietly, his lip pouting as he shoves the gum into his cheek. The car is silent as he drives the two of you back home carefully, your eyes barely open as he pulls into the West End parking garage. He undoes your seat belt, making you scowl again as he bites back his smile. This time, he takes your backpack out first, shoving it onto his shoulder before opening your door and offering his hand.

"C'mon. Up we go." He wiggles his fingers, your tired eyes peering up at him as you sigh. You take his hand, your fingers cool to the touch as you interlace them with his. 

The walk to your apartment is slow and deliberate, your thumb once more tracing circles into his skin. Nothing is said – not as you fumble for your keys, not as you invite him into your apartment or as he slides the backpack off onto the same dining chair. Nothing, until he turns to face you and you're holding the door open slightly, your coat now slid off and hung up on the hook behind the door..

"Will you come over on Sunday? I'll make one of the guys come get you if I can't myself." He asks meekly, and you smile tiredly before nodding.

"Yeah, I'll be there." "And we'll study together next weekend?" 

"Yeah, Won. We can study together." You chuckle, holding your arms out. "Hug it out? I don't like tension."

It's almost embarrassing how quickly Jungwon throws himself into your embrace, burying his face into your neck once more. Your fingers are gentle as they card through his hair, and he relishes in the comfort of your arms, eyes closed.

It's only when he feels you press your lips to his cheek that his eyes snap open, but you speak before he can.

"As much as I enjoy this, I'm going to fall asleep standing up." You murmur in his ear, and he hates how he shivers at the feeling of your breath on his skin. He pulls back, clearing his throat as you smile tenderly. "Goodnight, Jungwon." He doesn't know how he finds his voice, mumbling a delicate good night before slinking out of your apartment. He's not even sure how he gets home, his car now parked in the North End garage and his eyes glued to the ground as he unlocks his front door. Jake and Sunoo are still seated there, casually looking up as Jungwon shuts the door.

He rests his back against it, before feeling his legs turn into jelly as he slides down it.

Jake snorts, "What happened to you? You'd think you finally manned up and kissed the girl." Sunoo snorts, hurriedly tapping Jake's shoulder and pointing at the distressed roommate on the ground. "More like she kissed him. There's lip gloss on his cheek." Jungwon only sinks further onto the floor, a noise mixed with a groan and a scream from his throat as he covers his heating face. His voice is whiny as Jake and Sunoo get off the couch and crouch around him, Sunoo's cool hand moving the younger's off his face. "She kissed me goodnight."

"That's a big step for you, isn't it?" Jake teases, and Jungwon knows it's childlike but he kicks his feet petulantly anyway. Jake laughs, running his fingers through the younger's hair gently. "But a step in the right direction, Won. I'd say take it in stride." "I agree. I'd go as far as saying she's interested in you, too." Sunoo's voice has a lilt to it, before his fingers tilt Jungwon's face towards him. "Oh, and she has good taste. I got this lip gloss for my sister a few weeks ago, I think it's called Raspberry Swirl." Raspberry Swirl.

"You know that just by looking at it?" Jake ponders aloud, grabbing Jungwon's arm to pull him off the floor. Sunoo shrugs, mirroring Jake's actions and pulling Jungwon to his feet.

"I got the same one for you for Kazuha's birthday, didn't I? I know my shit." He scoffs, and Jungwon huffs as he tugs his jacket off.

"I can never wash my face. This has to stay here permanently." He hangs the jacket up on the rack, making Jake snort.

"Wash your face, you'll break out." He pats the younger's shoulder, who only shakes his head as he practically skips to his bedroom. The older men just snicker to themselves, opting to slump back onto the couch as they hear Jungwon squeal in his bedroom.

SUNDAY, 2:16PM.

"Hey, sorry I'm late." Jungwon watches you glance up, holding the door open for Jaehee to slip through. She gives him a curt nod, before turning her attention back to you. 

"Almost twenty minutes, Jaehee. I told you I had plans today." You say as you avert your gaze back to the textbook in front of you, your hand gripping a blue gel pen as you scribble onto a notebook. Jungwon steps in quietly, not bothering to announce himself as he stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans against Carousel A.

"I know, I'm sorry. I missed the bus twice, I practically ran here." She scoffs, tugging her scarf off and skirting behind the counter. You only move forward a bit, grimacing as you tuck the shop's business card into the textbook as a page holder before shutting it.

"Anything I need to know before you leave? Aside from the fact that I now have to cover Valentine's Day weekend because of the stupid bus driving past me twice. Twice, Y/N! " "Geez, good vibes all around!" You smile, grabbing your empty backpack off the chair and setting it on the counter to slide your textbooks into it. Jungwon pushes off the carousel, brows jumping as you finally make eye contact with him. You grin, shrugging your shoulders as he reaches for the strap of the bag. He tugs it over his shoulder, and Jaehee gives him an odd glance.

"Is he part of your plans?" She elbows you lightly, making you roll your eyes. He just clears his throat, looking away as he digs in his pocket for his keys. You move to count the money in the register for your deposit as Jaehee ties the apron around her waist, hopping out into the backroom for the restock cart.

"Oh, Jaehee! Carousel B kicked the bucket this morning. Birthday party came in, the dad couldn't control them and they broke several of the containers." You groan, closing your eyes as you thumb through the cash. Jaehee makes a disappointed noise, crossing her arms as she surveys the wrecked carousel. Jungwon glances over, and sure enough – there is broken hinges and cracked plastic all over the now wasted candy in the containers.

"So no chocolate almonds, no butterscotch bites…aw man, no caramel nonpareils?" She pouts, thumbing at the cracked plastic. You shake your head begrudgingly, Jungwon looking up at you as you once more scribble in fuschia Sharpie on the manila envelope before sliding it into the safe behind you. You pull your apron over your head and hang it up, sighing as you stretch and walk out from behind the counter.

You've got a nice pair of blue jeans on, held up by a black leather belt that matches the watch around your wrist. You paired it with a cream v-neck sweater and a pink turtleneck. A thin, silver chain hangs low on your chest, and he tries not to stare too hard as you take the claw clip out of your hair, letting it fall down your back. He can hear you saying your goodbye to Jaehee, but can't say anything as you loop your arm with his and pull him out of the shop.

"How's your birthday so far, Won? Anything you wanna talk about?" 

He clears his throat, "Uhm, it's okay. Jake and Sunoo kicked me out of the apartment early to decorate, so I haven't been home yet. Heeseung and Jay are my other friends, they took me to breakfast and our friend Riki was there with a bunch of prepared gifts…I don't know. It felt…" "Good? Nice? You feel loved?" You tease, your hand wrapped around his bicep squeezing slightly as he sighed shakily. "Sure, let's say that. They don't usually go all out, but I guess twenty-one is a milestone." He murmurs to himself, and you click your tongue. "Every year is a milestone, Won." You say as he opens the car door, holding it as you slide in. Your eyes are pointed, and he looks away as he shuts the door. He slides your bag into the back again, but he feels it lighter. "Not as many books today?" He asks as he slides into the driver's seat, and you shake your head.

"I have other plans. There's this guy, his birthday is today and he thought we'd be holed away studying all day. Can you believe that?" You're grinning widely as you buckle in your seat belt, and he scoffs. "Wow, what a guy." He turns the car on, and you cross your legs at the knee before humming.

"Can we make a stop at my apartment? To drop off the bag, and I have something for you." Jungwon almost chokes as he jolts the car to a stop at the light, your eyes wide as you slide forward a bit. He winces, "Sorry, sorry! You didn't have to get my anything, Y/N. Seriously." "Consider it to be one of the things you cherish. Our friendship, I mean." You say, adjusting the seat belt back on your chest as you snuggle back into the seat. Jungwon doesn't reply, cheeks far too hot in embarrassment to even speak.

The rest of the ride is silent, aside from your soft breathing and the clicking sound as you play with the buttons on the door. Jungwon pulls carefully into the West End parking garage, seeing Jay and Heeseung carefully walking out of the apartment entrance with a box held between the two of them. Riki and Sunghoon hold the door open, their own hands full of bags as Riki catches Jungwon's eye.

"Are those your friends? That guy is staring awfully hard." You murmur, peering at Sunghoon from your seat in his car. Jungwon scoffs, nodding.

"Yeah. Be sure to tell him he has a staring problem, that freak." He mutters, and you laugh softly as he puts the car in park, turning the motor off as Jay and Heeseung start bickering as they get closer to Jay's car. Jungwon opens the door to hear Jay telling Heeseung to walk slower.

"If we drop it, I'm kicking your ass right here." Jay huffs, and Heeseung only rolls his eyes as he stops when he sees Jungwon rounding the car to get your bag. They both watch him, Riki and Sunghoon bumping into Jay's back because they're also just watching like idiots.

"Do you guys need something?" Jungwon grumbles as he opens your door, not offering his hand this time. He doesn't notice your disappointment as you step out on your own, tucking your hair behind your ear as he shuts the door. "Nope, nothing at all, loverboy." Sunghoon pipes up, earning a choked laugh from Riki.  "Let the guy live." Jay announces, and Jungwon thanks the older boy with a tight smile, guiding you to the entrance. However, Jungwon should've known better – because Heeseung opens his big, fat mouth.

"Is that the girl?" He doesn't say it loud enough for it to be heard, but it's a parking garage – everything bounces off the wall like Jungwon's fist is going to bounce off Heeseung's face the next time he gets him alone. He doesn't say anything as your eyes widen, wincing as you both slip into the apartment entrance and walk to your apartment. You don't speak, only unhooking your carabiner from your belt loop and swinging the keys around your fingers. You unlock the door, allowing him in first before closing it behind you.

"They like to tease you, right? I've heard men are like that."

He rolls his eyes and nods, sliding your backpack onto the dining chair as you slip into your kitchen. "It's their favorite pastime. You'd think we'd bully the youngest together, but it's always me." He huffs, tonguing the ring in his lip as he leans over the back of the chair. You only laugh from the kitchen, and he hears you rustling around before your head pops out of the division.

"Close your eyes." "Y/N, I don't like surprises." "C'mon, Won! Close your eyes, I promise it's worth it."

He can't deny you, not when you're practically vibrating out of your skin and bouncing on your toes. He sighs, running a hand through his hair before closing his eyes. "Alright, alright." He hears you walk over to him, placing a cold box in his hands. His nose scrunches as he feels around it, feeling a ribbon tied in a knot at the top.

"Open your eyes."

It's a box of candy from your father's shop, tied in baby blue ribbon. Not just any box, though – it's the candy mix boxes your father makes by hand the day before the order is set to be picked up. He'd only ever seen people buy them for their significant others for holidays, or anniversaries…

Or birthdays.

"Happy birthday! I know it's not much, but I did stay up all Saturday with my dad making these. We even gave you some stuff we're thinking of introducing at the shop, like these chocolate coins. They have a raspberry swirl, you like that, right?" You tap the corner of the clear box, and he eyes it. He does, he loves anything like that.

"You packed this yourself?" He murmurs, untying the knot slowly. You nod.

"Uh-huh. So there is a method to it, the top row is all stuff I've seen you pick out. Raspberry sour belts, strawberry crème melts, caramel apple hard candy and a few cherry jelly beans. Second row is stuff I've recommended that you've liked, such as the chocolate almonds, pear saltwater taffy, the raspberry bubblegum and the caramel nonpareils you had for an entire week in July. This last row is all new stuff, so the raspberry chocolate coins, some heart-shaped cherry disks, a few blueberry yoghurt almonds and then I put a few peach-raspberry fusion rings here. My dad wasn't sure you'd like them but I said we should try anyway." He's staring at you as you explain, your manicured nail carefully tapping the case as you move across it. He can tell you feel his eyes on you, because you shift with uncertainty as you look up at him.

"So, uh…what do you think? Is it okay?" 

"Yeah, it's perfect, actually. Thank you, Y/N." He whispers, running his thumb over the shop's stamp on the box. You nod slowly, before he sets the box down on the table. "Uhm, are you ready? I'm sure the guys are waiting–" "Is there something wrong, Jungwon?" You ask gently, your eyes worried and probing as you look at him. They flit all over his face as you nibble on your lip, a habit that visits his mind at the most inopportune moments – when he's studying, when he's taking a test, when he's in the shower, for fuck's sake.

"I can't think when you do that, stop it." He admits, his cheeks heating as your eyes widen. He looks away as you seem to let the pieces connect in your mind, before he hears your voice in his ear. "So…you? Me? You like me?" You look down, picking at your nails. He scoffs.

"Yeah, I have for a while. I'm sorry. I should go." He runs his tongue over his teeth, before pushing off the back of your dining chair. He doesn't bother picking the candy box back up as he fumbles with his keys, before he feels your hand on his arm yanking him back. 

He doesn't have time to think, your face far too close to his as he stumbles back in front of you. He breathes out shakily, feeling your glossed lips ghosting over his own – the soft scent of raspberry floating up and clouding his senses.

He feels his entire body heat up as you kiss him softly, your hands moving to hold his face in your palms. He doesn't let the shock stop him from melting into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. The taste of your lip gloss is seeping into his mouth as you nip at his lip ring, his hand moving the dining chairs out of the way to push you against the table. He lets you slip your tongue into his mouth as your hands move to fist his black hoodie, his own moving to your hips to lift you onto the table.

He settles between your legs, feeling your confidence grow hotter as you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. He can't help but groan softly into your mouth as one of your hands slides under his hoodie, the feeling of your skin against his bare torso almost enough to make him lose his mind. He pulls back slightly, your lips chasing after his as he shakes his head, resting his forehead against yours. Your eyes are shy as you look up at him, your hand beneath his sweater moving to toy with the belt loops on his black jeans. You can't hold eye contact for the first time since he's known you, clearing your throat as you look away.

"Sorry." You murmur, and he gently holds your jaw in his fingers, moving your head back to face him.

"Yeah? Sorry?" His lips brush over yours, and he feels your breath hitch in your chest as you resist the urge to connect your lips. "Sorry for what?" "If you're going to kiss me, you should just do it. I'm not going to object." You rush out, and he can't help but smile against your lips, earning a whine from your throat. "Jungwon!" "I'm right here, pretty. Not going anywhere." He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, before mumbling against them. "I like you a lot, Y/N." "I like you, too, Won. I've liked you for so long." 

He can feel your face grow warm under his fingertips, pressing another kiss to your lips. "How long?" "Three years." You murmur softly, and he can feel your lips jut into a pout against his as he smiles. "Why are you smiling!? As far as I know, you like me, too!" "Just because we're idiots." He shakes his head, pressing his lips to yours once, twice, three times. "So stupid, I should've kissed you then. Could've been mine ages ago."

He feels your thighs tighten around his hips, "Can be yours now, Won." "Yeah? Want to?" He runs his thumb over your lip, pressing down on it slightly as your eyes look up at him. You nod silently, making him sigh exaggeratedly. "Need words, pretty." "Wanna be yours." You're pouting, before your eyes widen and you pull back, poking a finger in his chest. "Not today, though, birthday and anniversary hybrids are tacky."  He rolls his eyes, resting his hands on the tops of your thighs. "Then, when?" "Before Valentine's Day, but after today. Tomorrow, even. I'll even allow midnight." You're trying hard to put on a serious face, your finger still pointed at his chest. He glances down at your watch, clicking his tongue.

"That's not for another nine hours, pretty." He taps the face of it, and you frown as you look down at it. 

"Okay yeah, but we have to go spend your birthday with your friends anyway." "I would honestly prefer to just spend it with you." "Jungwon." You roll your eyes as he plants a kiss on your cheek, before peppering his lips all over your face. "Jungwon!" "Nine hours is too long." He mumbles against your skin, feeling your hands tug at his hoodie. "I have all of Valentine's Day weekend off because Jaehee was late today. We can spend it together and do whatever you want to make up for these nine long, grueling hours of agony, my poor baby." You add a flair of sarcasm to your voice, but Jungwon doesn't care as he squeezes your thighs gently.

"Whatever I want?" He raises a brow, scanning your face as you roll your eyes.

"You're a pervert." "You like me." "I do, unfortunately." You sigh, pressing your lips into a firm line as you nod reluctantly. "Now get your hands off me and let's go. Your friends are going to be wondering where you are." "Are you sure I can't convince you to just stay here and kiss me until we die?" He grumbles, tracing circles into your thighs as you sigh, leaning back on your hands. "I'll make you a deal. I'll stay over at yours tonight instead. I don't have class tomorrow." You offer, and he glances up at you through his lashes. He holds out his pinky finger, seeing you bite back a smile as you link yours. "Alright." He tucks the box of candy under his arm as you hop off the table, smoothing your sweater and grabbing your keys. He confidently interlaces your fingers, pulling you through the complex and into the parking garage, and doesn't let go until he has to get into his seat. He watches you pull your lip gloss from your pocket and reapply it in his car mirror, Raspberry Swirl in big, pink font across the tube. He allows the teasing from his friends as he leads you into his decorated apartment by hand, your smile shy as he introduces you to everyone one by one. He allows the teasing as you gather around him with his friends to sing Happy Birthday, and he pouts when icing is smeared on his face by multiple hands – only to feel your lips against his the moment his friends slink out of the dining room to flop on the couch with their slices of cake. He allows the teasing as Sunghoon and Riki walk into the kitchen and see you wiping his face with a damp rag, his blushing cheeks hidden by your hands as you defend him.

He doesn't care about the comments his friends make under their breath when he pulls you into his lap during the movies they put on. He doesn't care when they mutter about him being whipped when he allows you to curl up in his embrace, your face buried in his neck as he traces circles into your hip. He doesn't care when they giggle at him as you whisper in his ear about whatever is going on in the movie, because he's not even watching – instead, focused on the incredible feeling of you so close to him.

He can't lie to himself, he tries to take his time opening the gifts after the films, asking questions and acting interested. He is interested, but his eyes keep flicking back to you sitting in the corner behind his gaggle of friends, just watching him with a fond smile and the same shimmer in your eyes that you have when you follow him around the shop. You actively engage his friends, answering their questions and playing into their jokes as he finishes the haul of gifts in front of him.

He rushes the goodbyes. He hugs his friends tightly for the first time in ages, thanking them for taking time out of their schedules and lives to spend his birthday with him. He feels his body fill with impatience as they take their time saying their goodbyes to you – but he feels it all slip away when Jake and Sunoo give him a knowing look, offering to clean up and that he should go ahead and walk you home, if he'd like.

He doesn't care about what their eyes say when he gently pulls you into his room, kissing you against the door. He holds himself back as you make it a point to move the two of you towards his bed, asking if you want to get into something more comfortable. His mind runs as you pull on a pair of his pajama pants, your top half covered by one of his old band shirts before you slide back into his bed with him, your thighs settled on either side of him as his fingers hold your hips flush to his. He lets you kiss him, bunching his shirt in your fists as his fingers breach the hem of your shirt, your skin warm to the touch.

He couldn't ask for anything better, even as he checks the clock and it reads ten minutes to midnight.

MONDAY, 12:00AM.

"Be my girlfriend."

"I don't even have a shirt on, Jungwon. You couldn't wait?" "No. Be my girlfriend, please. We can go on a date later."

You roll your eyes, "Okay, fine. I'll be your girlfriend."

"At least act like you like me, will you?" He scoffs, his teeth nipping at your belly. You jolt, swatting the top of his head with a scowl.

"I do like you! I'm literally your girlfriend!" You huff, and he can't help but smile into your skin, before moving back up to hover over you. He moves your hair off your face, before holding your chin in his fingers with a soft smile. "Stop looking at me like you want to eat me." "I can just eat you, instead." He presses a kiss to your lips, your arms moving to wrap loosely around his neck. He allows it, deepening the kiss and snaking his hand down to the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling the drawstring undone in one go. "Is that okay?" "Hurry up, boyfriend."

VALENTINE'S DAY, 4:32PM.

"Why baby blue?" You look up from your desk, seeing your boyfriend toying with a baby blue piece of ribbon from the shop. You'd stopped by the shop earlier that day because your father told you Jaehee was going to be late, and you went for an hour while she arrived. You'd brought Jungwon a bag of chocolate almonds and a singular piece of raspberry swirl bubblegum, one that he was blowing into a bubble now.

"Hm?" "The ribbon, babe. You never let me pick, you just use this color. Why?" You set your pen down, pursing your lips as you turn in your chair. He's got his textbooks laid out on the floor, sitting back on his hands as he looks up at you expectantly. You sigh, tapping your foot as you run a hand through your hair. "You came into the shop after you got your lip pierced during freshman year, and you got a bag of nothing but caramel apple suckers. You were wearing this baby blue sweater that said Girls Don't Cry in red thread across the front, and you were wearing that same sweater the first time we met. The color just reminds me of you, and I love that sweater on you." You shrug, watching as your boyfriend tongues the silver ring in his lip.

"You've never told me if you like it or not." He says pointedly, touching it lightly with his forefinger. You lean forward in your chair, your fingers gripping the edge of it as you smile.

"There's a lot of things I like about you, Won. I can definitely show you better than I can tell you, though." You wink, making his cheeks flush lightly. He doesn't respond, opting to look back down at his textbooks until you reach down and close one of them. He gapes up at you, but can't find the words to say anything as you slip off the chair, closing all of them one by one as you get closer to him. You push his knees down, opting to straddle him, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips.

"We need to study." He reminds you quietly, watching your face as you run your hands through his hair.

"Remember I said we could do whatever you want this weekend?" "...I feel like this is a trap." You laugh, pressing a soft kiss to his hairline. "No trap. Do you want to study?"

He sighs, plucking the hem of your shirt out from where it's tucked into your pants. He rests his forehead on your collarbone, groaning into your chest. "Y/N, I need to study."

"We can study later, baby." "But I'm a pervert, huh?" He scoffs, and you hold back your laughter in an attempt to seem upset.

"Fine. I'll just go back to ignoring you at my desk." 

You move to get off his lap, but he shakes his head, holding onto the hem of your shirt. "No need for all that, angel. Just get this off for me." "Pervert." "Oh, come on!"

BABEYUN © 2025. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[blackbat05]

Fateful Encounters

Joaquin Torres x Reader

Plot: After a hard week at the library, you meet an enigmatic stranger with the help of your beloved dog. During TFATWS timeline.

Genre: PG-13

A/N: And I’m going to watch him on big screen today?!!!?Was in a funk so really glad I got this out! This is a complete rewrite to (Mixup) So excited to see him on Big Screen too after writing for him for so long! Enjoy!!! Tag: @the-slumberparty for 2025 challenge!

“Thanks for today!” You call out to Sophie who urges you to get out of the library and enjoy the weekend.

“Hey! Thanks for bringing Bubbles! They really loved her at the session today.” Sophie bends down to give my lovely Goldie, Bubbles a head pat. “You did such a good job!” She addresses the joyful pooch who gives a bark of acknowledgement.

You bid Sophie goodbye and lead Bubbles out into the cold evening of New York for a hearty dinner and another job well done for the week at the library.

“Well done girl! Where shall we go?” You ask Bubbles who gives a tug on her leash, leading you down the familiar path to both your favourite cafe near the library. “Of course, why did I even ask.” You smiled.

The cafe that you frequented when you first arrived in the bustling city was starting to become crowded on a Friday evening. Family and friends gathered to enjoy the start of a weekend. Bubbles obediently waits in line as you ordered a chicken rice bowl for yourself and a specially curated shredded chicken and pepperoni pizza for Bubbles who is almost pulling you the other direction the moment you finished payment.

“Girl! Slow down. There’s still seats.” You were confused at her sudden excitement at something. You follow her line of sight only to see a lone man gazing out of the window, lost in thought. Bubbles continues to drag you towards the said man, much to your horror.

“Bubbles! No! There’s other seats! We’re not disturbing the poor man!” You hissed under your breath. Unfortunately, it falls on deaf ears as Bubbles only becomes stronger. “Bubbles! Oh- hi!”

You quickly revert to what you assume is a calm and composed version of yourself when internally, you’re freaking out. For a very good reason.

The man was gorgeous. As in, breathtakingly gorgeous. Donning a black leather jacket, you were mesmerized by his hazel coloured eyes that just sucked you in with each passing minute. It felt like it was just the two of you in the room, his soft lips catching your attention…

Bubbles nudges you hardly on the shin and you snap out of your lovesick induced haze. It is then that you notice that the man’s right eye is recovering from a bad bruise. You’re left to wonder what was the story behind that but you quickly pull yourself together because this is not the time to be ogling at the man like he’s an animal at the zoo. You certainly didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not sure why Bubbles is acting this way.” You apologized. “We’ll just find a seat and be on our way.” You try to tug on Bubble’s leash without much success. Bless the man, he doesn’t seem bothered at all by your sudden appearance. In fact, he offers you the seat across from him. “It’s getting crowded, please.”

You thank him and quickly settle down across him. Bubbles takes no time in trotting over to her new found friend, resting her snout on his lap. “She likes you.” You observed. The man gives Bubbles a rub, much to her delight. “She never warms up to anyone that quickly before.”

“Well then, I must be a very lucky person.” He cracks a small smile before introducing himself. “Where are my manners? My name is Joaquin Torres.” Joaquin offers a handshake.

“Y/N L/N. We just came from the public library down the street.”

For the next few minutes, you fall into easy conversation about your job as a library assistant at the children’s section. You were absolutely out of luck when you were trying to search for a job fresh out of university. Although you could have gone into the corporate world and land a cushy job, you never felt that it was right for you to begin with. Your true passion lied with books and connecting with people about them. So one day, when you were absolutely tired of having to spend the whole day in front of a computer sending out resumes after resumes, you decided to head to the public library for a much needed escape.

“And lucky me, I saw the advert for the job. So here I am.” You beam inwardly at the memory. It was incredible really, how far you’ve come since then. “That’s enough about me, I would like to know more about you.” You say sincerely.

Joaquin fiddles with his teaspoon and you wonder if you’ve crossed the line. You start to open your mouth to apologize but it’s as if he can read your mind. “It’s only fair.” He brushes away your apology reassures that you’re not forcing him.

“I used to be in the military, Air Force.” Joaquin tells you. “It was the best time of my life. But seeing people die, that chipped away at my soul.” A moment of silence passes, perhaps for the lives that were lost.

“This?” He points to his bruise. “I got it while on a mission in Europe. I was there for surveillance, but innocent civilians died on my watch by a group of terrorists claiming that they were making the world better.” Joaquin tells me bitterly. Bubbles gets up and presses her body against Joaquin’s legs, as if she could sense the agitation radiating from him. He looks down and gives her another rub of thanks.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to go through something so horrific. Thank you for telling me.”

“It was actually something that I needed to do actually.” Joaquin confesses. “My Captain encouraged me to get therapy but it didn’t sit right with me.” He laughs at the thought. “I should thank you for sharing as well. It mustn’t have been easy, how you got here today.”

You were oddly pleased at Joaquin’s compliment. You knew that already, but having someone like Joaquin to acknowledge your struggles made you feel a connection with him.

As the customers continued to stream in and out of the cafe, you sat across the charming stranger-now-turned friend, sharing experiences living in the bustling Big Apple.

Bubbles whine, signaling that she was started to feel cooped out under the table. “Oh, I think that’s my signal.” You carefully eased the dog under the table. “Thank you for the company and conversation. I really needed that.”

“Same here. Take care.”

You stepped out into the chilly evening, heading back in the direction of your apartment. As you arrived back home, you let out a gasp of realization, causing Bubbles to be alarmed.

“Oh no! I forgot to ask him his number!” You groaned. Joaquin was a genuinely nice guy - a rare one these days. A rare one that you carelessly let out of your grasp like a slippery fish.

Hitting your head on the back of the sofa, you turned to Bubbles. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be huh girl?”

Bubbles let’s out a bark, bringing your backpack that you take to work everyday. Confused, you open up the bag, figuring that Bubbles wants to play with her blue plastic ball. Not that you were in a mood to play anyways. But dogs didn’t know that.

As you were about to throw the ball for Bubbles to fetch, she let’s out another bark. It is then you realized that there’s a white piece of paper sticking out of the ball’s cap. Unscrewing it open, a piece of paper that was ripped out from the order sheet at the cafe falls out. Opening it, you find a signature with a couple of words inside:

“Hey Y/N, I had a really great time talking to you. I know it sounds bonkers but I think I’ve hit it off with you and I don’t want this to be our only time. I don’t want to be a weirdo (or stalker) so this is my number. Call me when you’re ready.”

You hold the piece of paper in your hands, smiling from ear to ear. Perhaps you look a little deranged but the idea of Joaquin feeling the same way that you did was a god send. It really was a no brainer as to what you were going to do next.

Taking a deep breath, you dial his number that was given and hit the camera function while praying for the best.

After three rings, Joaquin picks up, his boyish features lighting up at the sight of you. Needless to say, it made you feel incredible. “I was praying that it wasn’t an unsuspecting old lady.” You crack a joke that earns a hearty laughter from the man.

“I’m glad you called.”

“So did I.”

Joaquin grins at your confession. “So… are you doing anything next weekend? I was thinking I could take you and Bubbles to this famous steak place.” It was adorable to see Joaquin nervous as he waits for your response. Joaquin must have sensed the cogs in your brain turning so he quickly adds, “I swear I’m not weird or anything. It’s just that I really liked talking to you that day and Bubbles! But if you don’t want to, I understand.”

“Joaquin!” You get his attention to stop him from rambling further.

“Yeah?”

“I was going to say yes either way.”

Joaquin blinks, slowly registering your words. “Great! That’s great! Um, bring Bubbles too! I want to see her again.”

You glance down at your beloved pooch who is wagging her tail at Joaquin’s voice.

“Oh she will. She’s definitely excited to see you too.” You laugh and pause for a moment, unsure if it’s too fast to say this. But hey, life is fleeting as it comes. So screw it.

“I’m excited to see you as well.”

[whos-the-seme]

Someone should honestly write a "4 Times That Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu Accidentally Acted Like Partners (and 1 Time They Finally Realized It)" thing. That would be so fun.

Here's some of what I got so far, though they're a tad incomplete. Feel free to add on!!!

Sharing a Bed

Shen Qingqiu stumbled into the peak lord meeting right before the starting time, eyes barely even open. He was impeccably dressed, as always, but the slight puffiness of his eyes and the way he was fighting back a yawn signaled to the fact that he might have rolled out of bed barely 5 minutes before.

He ignored the stares that he received as he made his way over and slid into the seat next to Shang Qinghua, groaning. Shang Qinghua raised his eyebrow at him, mildly amused. For once, he was the slightly well-rested one and his friend was the sleep-deprived mess. Despite this, he started pouring a cup of tea for the other.

"Shen-shixiong, did you even sleep properly? You were the one who told me to go home and get more sleep." He finished pouring the tea and passed the cup to his friend, before pouring himself a cup.

Shen Qingqiu groaned even louder at his words but accepted the cup. "I know, I know. I just couldn't get to sleep, though." He took a small sip and sighed in delight. "It's just that your bed is so much more comfortable than mine, so--"

Shang Qinghua, midway through drinking his tea, choked.

Silence.

Absolute silence. Mu Qingfang slowly put down his brush while Qi Qingqi's eyes darted between Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu, a smile spreading on her face.

Shen Qingqiu's slowly turning cog wheels finally realizes what he just said and the people he just said it in front of. Shang Qinghua made a slight wheezing sound.

Yue Qingyuan set down his own teacup, smiling pleasantly. "Shang-shidi's bed?"

"His guest bed!" Shen Qingqiu nearly yells. "I meant to say his guest bed, obviously that's where I sleep when I stay over, where else would I sleep, of course! I sleep in the bed that is not his!"

Shang Qinghua begins to nod his head frantically. "Yes, yes, he sleeps in my guest bed." Noticing the still dangerous glint in Yue Qingyuan's eyes, he begins to wave his hands around as if trying to stave off his impending doom. "N-not that Shen Qingqiu sleeps over often, or anything, ahahaha! It's just a spare bed that I happen to have--"

"I see," Yue Qingyuan interrupts, still smiling. Never before has Shang Qinghua feared for his life like this. He continues cheerfully, "Thank you for the clarification. Why don't we get this meeting started."

2. Robe Mix-Up

Shit! Shen Qingqiu had completely forgotten that he had to teach a morning class and was running late. He might have had too much fun last night reading trashy novels and bitching about them with Shang Qinghua, only to forget his responsibilities to his students. Upon waking and realizing the sun was already up, he nearly shoved Shang Qinghua off the bed trying to get up.

In his hurry to look presentable and still arrive on time, Shen Qingqiu grabbed the nearest outer robe that he could find and slipped it on, while simultaneously trying to fix his hair. Shang Qinghua, the traitor, simply rolled over and muttered something in his sleep, despite the chaos. He rolled his eyes at his best friend, despite the other not being awake to see it.

Finally ready, Shen Qingqiu rushes out of his bamboo house and starts to speed-walk, doing his best to still look majestic and peak lord-like, and not like he was running late to his own class. In his hurry, he doesn't notice the wide-eyed looks he was garnering from the older disciples he passed.

It was only when he steps into the classroom, and the previously hushed whispers and laughter of the teens fall dead silent, that he notices that something is wrong. They all stare at him.

"Good morning, everyone," Shen Qingqiu says pleasantly. No response. What, did he have something on his face or something?? He discreetly wiped at his cheeks, wondering what they were looking at. "Did something happen?"

"Shizun... isn't that...?" Ming Fan hesitantly spoke up, eyeing the blue robes that his teacher was wearing.

Shen Qingqiu followed his disciple's line of sight and looked down.

Ah. An Ding Peak Lord Blue. He must have accidentally grabbed Shang Qinghua's robes when getting dressed this morning.

Wait.

Fuck.

Shen Qingqiu can feel his face freeze.

Another brave disciple spoke up. "A-are those Shang-shishu's--"

"No," Shen Qingqiu says. His eye began to switch.

"But--"

"I said no."

Unfortunately for him, word spread fast, and by midday meal, there were people whispering about the fact that Shen Qingqiu had left his residence wearing Shang Qinghua's robes.

Shang Qinghua tsk'd at him from over the tea table they were taking their lunch at on An Ding Peak. "You just had to take my robe, huh? If you wanted to wear my clothes so bad, you could have just asked." An Ding disciples gawked at them on their way to do errands. One walked into a wooden post.

Shen Qingqiu glared at him, ears still burning red from embarrassment. "Shut up, Qinghua."

[ravennowithtea]

feel it slither up your back your body choked to stillness from the sudden panic until it finds its way wriggling down your throat to the heart of you rot and decay //throw it back//

...

I finished playing Dredge! --so here's my OC (Ethan) swarmed by so many of the lovely aberrational fish from the game. It was an absolute delight from start to finish~ 🐟