#it’s at around 4k? right now? yeah sounds about right

[dokries]

sneak peek of a wip that’s been in the back of my mind since forever because i haven’t posted anything in so long :>

[incognit0slut]

On camera

PART 4 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Roommate!Spencer x Camgirl!Reader Spencer requests to take on a more involved role in one of your live streams.

content: (18+) 4k, exhibitionism/voyeur, reader wears lingerie, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, overstimulation (surprisingly it’s him for once), and a hint of cockwarming at the end a/n: this is the second part to a special show although you don't necessarily have to read it to understand what’s happening. this took a while because… there was a little pressure? i didn’t expect people to wait on this i hope it lives up to the expectations, let me know what you think my cuties<3

You nudged your foot against his. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine."

"Are you sure? You've been quiet ever since you sat down."

He felt the words knot up in his throat. The quiet wasn’t hesitation, it was disbelief. The kind that lingered in the gap between what he imagined and what was happening. The lack of conviction that defied logic, even when he was the one who initiated to exist beyond just a pair of hands at the edges of the frame.

"Spence?”

He glanced at you. Deep pools of brown drowning in lust swept over the piece of lingerie you decided to put on tonight. Even without much fashion sense, Spencer could appreciate the soft frills of purple lace clinging to your figure. The garter belt wrapped snugly around your waist, leading down to thin straps that framed your smooth thighs, and every logical thought he tried to root out slipped away the longer he looked at you.

Wait. Purple?

Purple.

Although Spencer was sure it probably had a fancier, specific name that bordered on… lilac? Lavender? Or something else elusive he couldn’t quite pin down. To him it was just purple. He might not have the vocabulary to describe the exact shade, but he knew the way it looked on you was nothing short of captivating.

“You’re wearing purple.”

The frown creased between your brows as you tried to make sense of his sudden observation.

“I am.” Your lips formed a slight pout. “And you still haven’t answered my question.“

And he still couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“I thought you were supposed to be Princess Pink?”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. It was true. Pink was your color. The soft, playful blush had always been part of your alter ego. You shifted on your feet, glancing down at the purple lace hugging your hips before meeting his eyes again. A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and for a moment, you looked almost… shy.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted, your voice so soft it dipped into a tone he wasn’t used to hearing from you. Your fingers traced the edge of the fabric absently, and you glanced away again as if finding the floor more interesting.

“I thought maybe… it might help, you know? Calm your nerves or something.” The nervous laugh creeping out of you sounded strained. “I know you like purple… so I figured…”

The corner of his lips curled upwards. His smile reminded you of the times he caught you off guard with a look that was equally amused and deeply affectionate as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“You wore it for me?”

You felt warmth rise to your neck but decided there was no point in hiding it. “I thought it might make this less scary for you.”

His smile faltered. “I’m not scared.”

“Spencer, you’re about to get naked.”

“You’ve seen me naked before.”

You couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. He stated it so plainly with no hint of self-consciousness or hesitation. And technically, he was right. You had seen him completely, wholly bare more times than you could count by now ever since that first night you stripped away his innocence.

You still remembered how you had pulled him across the line from a curious roommate to someone who wanted to know every inch of your body. And that night turned into another, and then another, until what you were doing stopped being about one-off hookups and started blurring the boundaries you’d drawn between friendship and something more. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on that felt heavier than lust but not quite defined as love.

Spencer was a roommate, a friend, a lover, and eventually, an active participant in your live streams.

His hands were, at least.

You took a step forward, slipping between his legs where he sat comfortably at the edge of your bed. “I have seen you naked,” you agreed, “but they haven’t.”

His hands hovered at your waist, fingers twitching over your lace as if he wasn’t sure where to put them. He glanced up at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips before he finally admitted, “Okay… maybe I am a little nervous.”

“I know, but you don’t need to be. Think of it this way, the people who are going to see us will only be jealous of you.”

“Why would they be jealous of me?”

“Because you’re the one who gets to be with me.” You reached up to brush his hair back from his face, tucking those long, unruly strands behind his ear. “They’re in their rooms jerking off to a screen while you get to kiss me.”

A kiss fell on his lips.

“Touch me.”

Another peck.

“And fuck me.”

He chased your lips this time, his mouth puckering before he closed the gap. His words were muffled against you, “I am pretty lucky.”

“The luckiest,” you mumbled back. A soft smack of a kiss lingered in the air when you pulled away. “And you don’t have to worry, once we get started, you’ll be too distracted to remember what you were even nervous about.”

He hummed, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as his grip on your waist tightened. “I think you might be right.”

“Good.” You moved to the side of the bed. “Now let me set up the camera.”

The tripod attached to the top of your computer screen wobbled slightly as you fiddled with it, adjusting the device until the lens angled down. You observed the setup, making sure it captured your body and the way Spencer’s hand rested on your waist without revealing either of your faces.

Perfect.

“You ready?”

Surprisingly, he was.

With a slight nod from him, you turned on the live stream.

Princess_Pink is online.

Spencer’s eyes widened as the chat erupted in a flurry of notifications, messages pouring in so rapidly they blurred into an endless stream of words.

“That’s a lot of people," he muttered under his breath.

“That’s the usual amount of people.”

“No, it’s not,” he countered. “I can’t even keep up with the chat.” Which was saying a lot. For someone who could read entire pages of text in mere seconds, this was overwhelming in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“Don’t let them intimidate you.” You turned around and slipped between his legs again, feeling the way his knees instinctively parted to make space. “Just focus on me.”

Spencer barely managed to nod before your lips met his again, and with that, everything else seemed to dissolve. He could never quite get used to how effortlessly you could unravel him with just a kiss. His hands slid up the back of your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers brushing over your skin as they trembled slightly, grazing the delicate strap of your garter before settling firmly on your ass.

A surprised giggle bubbled out of you.

“Easy there,” you murmured, catching his bottom lip gently between your teeth before letting it go with a playful tug. “I have to greet them first.”

He reluctantly loosened his grip, letting his fingers linger on you for a final moment before slipping away to rest at his sides. His eyes remained fixed on you as you turned away, shifting your focus back to the screen and reaching over to the mic.

A faint hum filled the room as it came to life. Spencer could feel his breaths gradually falling into sync before your sweet voice cut through the silence like honey.

“Hi, boys,” you purred, letting the greeting roll off your tongue. “Did you miss me?"

Princess.no1.fan: Princess!!! JadenCums: we missed those tits Adam_4432: fucking hot as always Adam_4432: purple looks good on you Crazydick: who's the skinny loser at the back

You rolled your eyes as the comment popped up in the chat.

“This is getting old,” you said with a sigh, fingers hovering over the mouse. “You’re all obsessed with him.”

With a quick flick of your wrist, you blocked the troll and watched with satisfaction as his name disappeared from the list. Spencer tried to peek over your shoulder. “What did they say?”

“Nothing important,” you replied lightly, brushing it off as you turned back to the mic. "Didn’t I tell you guys to play nice?”

Princess.no1.fan: i always play nice with you JadenCums: they’re just jealous of your boy toy Adam_4432: ignore the haters, babe BigBoss88: let him stay in the background ThickNick: you're gorgeous princess

“Remember, if you can’t behave, you don’t get to stay. And I don’t think any of you want to miss out on what we've prepared."

That was his cue, right? He forced down the tightness in his throat, the sensation catching and shifting like a dry click as his pulse quickened. With a quiet exhale, he slipped off the edge of the bed and made his way behind you.

There was a moment of hesitation. But his doubt faded into the background as he focused on the curve of your waist beneath his fingers. He let his hands move slowly, tracing upward with a touch that lingered at the dip of your spine until his fingers brushed the delicate lace of your bra.

Wide hands covered the soft swell of your breasts.

Princess.no1.fan sent a $50 gift.

“See?” you breathed, pressing your back against him. “You play nice, you get to enjoy the show.”

He couldn’t help but squeeze your flesh, fingers sinking in and then pulling back, the skin dimpling under the pressure before slowly springing back. His veins looked prominent, winding up his forearm like delicate, raised lines that caught the light on camera every time he moved over the fabric of your bra.

And the lace offered the thinnest barrier. He could feel the way your nipple firmed underneath his touch, straining subtly as if it, too, was reaching out for more. He traced small, lazy circles around it, and when you arched into him, he had to bite back a smile. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder instead.

“You’re so good at this,” you muttered, letting your hand drift up to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair.

He let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, his fingers hooking under the edge of your bra’s cup before pulling it down. Your breasts bounced slightly, settling naturally in his palm as the lace slipped away.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

A soft moan escaped you as he began to explore, and Spencer couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction that followed. He was rougher than he intended to be at times, testing the line between what made you shiver and what made you push back for more. It was the way he rolled both of your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gentle pinches and firmer twists, that finally drew the most telling reaction—a subtle, instinctive rub of your ass against him.

He took it as a sign to touch you further, one hand drifting lower while the other stayed firmly in place. Goosebumps prickled over your skin as he slid down your stomach until he reached the edge of your panties. His fingers skimmed along the waistband, and you could feel his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as he brushed his knuckles underneath the delicate material, hesitating.

Adam_4432 sent you a $100 gift.

That was enough to break through his hesitation. Without a word, he slipped his fingers beneath the lace.

The heat between your thighs greeted him, and there was no mistaking what that meant. You were wet, so wet that his fingers glided over your folds like silk. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of smugness as each subtle shift seemed to draw a new sound from your lips.

He let his fingers slide lower, searching, and when he finally found your clit, brushing his fingertips lightly over it, you jerked in his arms. The tiny, sensitive nub was swollen and begging for attention as it pulsed under his touch like a racing heartbeat. He gave gentle rubs. Slow circles. Steady pressure. The more he explored, the more your arousal smeared against his fingertips.

“Oh—you’re gonna make me cum so fast,” you gasped. You threw your head back against his shoulder, letting out a whine you knew would drive your viewers wild. “What do you think, boys? Should he make me cum now?”

The chat lit up instantly, flooded with messages begging you to let go, but between the rapid scroll of usernames and flashing emojis, one message caught your eye.

Looking4Sluts: no Looking4Sluts: cum on his cock Looking4Sluts sent you a $200 gift.

The notification flashed across the screen, and you felt a surge of adrenaline, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Do you see that, baby?”

He nodded against your neck.

“They want more of you,” you purred, letting your hips roll back against him, pressing yourself closer to his obvious erection. “They want to see just how good you make me feel.”

Your words went straight to his cock. His touch suddenly changed as he began to move faster against your clit, and a choked gasp spilled from your lips. But just as the pressure started to build rapidly, you quickly grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from your panties.

“No, not yet,” you stopped him, turning your head to catch his ear, your lips brushing against the shell. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

He watched as you reached down and slowly hooked your fingers into the sides of your panties, sliding them down your legs. A thin string of your arousal followed as you lowered the fabric, clinging to the lace before it finally broke and left a glistening trail against your thigh.

His balls tightened painfully.

Princess.no1.fan: Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot JadenCums: fisting my cock so hard Fatcock_777: wreck that damn pussy PussyLover69: i bet she’s fucking tight Looking4Sluts: jesus christ, she’s dripping

Spencer’s mind emptied the moment you leaned forward, planting your palms firmly on the desk for balance. The way your body arched made his pulse stutter, a surge of heat rushing through him so quickly it almost left him lightheaded.

“Like… this? Standing?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Exactly like this.”

He could barely think straight. His hands moved on their own, one sliding over your hips, gripping you firmly, while the other fumbled with his waistband, desperately tugging his pants down. The fabric slid down over his thighs, and he bit back a groan as his cock sprang free, hard and aching, pressing against the bare skin of your ass.

He could feel the heat of you against him, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep himself from sinking into you all at once. He pressed in closer, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse echoing in the ache between you both as the tip of his cock settled right where your folds parted. He rocked his hips in shallow motions.

“Baby…” You tilted your hips just enough to align with him, “no teasing."

But hearing those words only made him want to draw it out even more. He let his bulging head nudge at your hole, barely dipping in before pulling back, feeling the way you instinctively pressed against him.

"Spe—" you faltered, then groaned. "Stop it."

He couldn’t help but smile as his fingers found the straps of your garter belt. He tugged on one gently, watching the elastic snap back against your skin. "But you look so pretty."

"I'll look prettier with your cock inside me."

That did it. With one last shaky exhale, Spencer gripped your hips firmly and began to sink himself into you, feeling the tight, warm stretch of your cunt.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. He felt a slight resistance as your body adjusted to him. He carefully gave a few gentle thrusts, easing in and out just enough for you to relax.

Looking4Sluts: fuck yes JadenCums: she's so fucking tight PeachyKeen420: look at him stretching her PussyFiend69: just watching this is gonna make me cum HotForTits: Fuck her harder dude she wants it

His eyes flickered to that last comment, and something inside him shifted, like a switch flipping. Without another thought, without any lingering trace of hesitation, he tightened his grip on your hips and pushed in all at once.

Your moan tore through the air. So. Fucking. Loud.

HotForTits sent you a $300 gift

The notification flashed across the screen, but Spencer barely registered it, his control was slipping further away as his hips moved on their own. He started to grind into you, eyes traveling to your connected bodies. You were practically swallowing his cock, clenching so tightly around him that he felt like you were pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go.

In a way, you did beg for it. Each time you met his thrusts with an eager roll of your hips, the sound of skin slapping together echoed around you. He would have thought he’d be shy doing this in front of so many watchful eyes, but the way you moved against him made it impossible to care.

It only made him bolder. He let his hand slide up your back, fingers fumbling slightly with the clasp of your bra before he unhooked it. The straps slipped down your shoulders, sliding down your arms, and then you were completely, utterly naked, except for the garter hugging your thighs.

You were so pretty like this, so incredibly beautiful it made his pulse stutter in his veins. You were so pretty that it was almost disorienting, as if looking at you too long might make him forget where he was. And in his mind, all the lofty notions of beauty and art seemed to fall flat compared to seeing you like this. He needed to see all of you.

A startled whimper left your lips when he suddenly pulled out.

“Can you angle the camera down?"

There was a knowing look in your eyes. Your fingers moved to adjust the tripod, and he wasted no time stripping himself. By the time you were done angling the camera, he was already sitting on the edge of your bed, his cock throbbing against his stomach.

He looked painfully hard. Hard enough that every heartbeat seemed to pulse visibly along his length. You crawled onto his lap.

“Hi.”

His palm found the curve of your hip. "Hi."

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, his fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he urged you to lift your hips. “I think I’m starting to understand why you do this.”

“Yeah?”

"Mhm.” He nudged his tip between your folds. “It’s kind of exciting.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, fingers curling into his shoulder for balance as you began to lower yourself. “See? Nothing to be nervous about.”

A deep groan escaped his lips the moment your walls tightened around him. “You make this seem easy.”

“Maybe you’re just a natural.”

He gave a low chuckle, but it caught in his throat when he felt the full length of his cock buried inside you. “I… ah… I think you’re the one making me look good.”

“Shut up,” you replied with a grin, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “You don’t need any help looking good right now, trust me.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that. He’d never seen himself like this, not in the way you did. But when he glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the screen and the way your hips rolled over him, he started to believe it.

He looked like… well, like the porn he’d watched late at night in his room before you came along. But better. The kind that didn’t seem real, the kind that made him question if anyone actually had sex like that. He knew the vast majority of what’s portrayed in porn is exaggerated with only a small percentage even close to reality. Except this was real. It was really him, and you made it look like he knew what he was doing.

And sure, maybe he did in some way, albeit you being his only real experience. But that was the thing—he knew what made you tick. He could read the way your body reacted, knew the subtle cues that signaled when a whisper of his fingers could coax out a whimper or when the right shift of his hips would leave you trembling. And more than anything else, he knew how much you liked being watched.

He knew just how much it turned you on.

With that thought in mind, Spencer grabbed the firm swell of your ass and spread you open.

JadenCums: fuck yes FatCock69: she’s so wet BigdickXX: damn, I wish I could feel that pussy ILovePinkPrincess: spread her wider TommyGoode sent you a $200 giftDaddyDom92 sent you a $300 gift.

Your body squirmed beneath his hands.

“Babe… what are you doing?”

He ran his tongue over his lips. “Giving them what they want.”

Then he spread your flesh even further, fingers digging into your supple skin as he held you open. The sight was undeniably lewd, and yet he couldn’t deny the surge of pride swelling in his chest as he held you like this, putting you on full display. But more than that, it was what you wanted. The tension coiled in his muscles as he thrust his hips up, watching the movement play out in the reflection over his shoulder.

He could see everything. The slow drag of his cock, the way it stretched you open with each push, leaving no inch of you untouched. Every time he thrust up into you, his length came back slick and shining, catching the light for a split second before disappearing inside you again.

There was something hypnotic in the rhythm, in the way your body seemed to swallow him whole. And somewhere in that steady push and pull, you visibly clenched around him, a vice-like grip that sent a shudder through his body and pulled a deep, harsh groan from his throat.

His hands tightened their grip on you, and before he could think twice, his hips began moving faster. You squealed, an actual high-pitched sound that he hadn’t expected. It was almost cute in a way—if cute was even the right word for what was happening. But there was nothing cute about the way his body reacted to that sound.

His hips bucked upward, again and again by an instinct he couldn’t control. He was so lost in the sensation of your warm, slick pussy that he barely registered the rising tension in his own body. It wasn’t until his muscles locked up, his hips jerking with one final, forceful snap, that it all crashed over him.

Oh shit.

A sudden rush of heat coursed through him as he spilled inside you, the realization hitting him a second too late. His breath came in shallow gasps, a deep groan escaping his throat as pleasure overwhelmed him, leaving him stunned and gasping for air.

You paused, feeling the unmistakable warmth of his release slowly seep inside you. “Baby?”

His eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, sliding his hands up your waist. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—that was—”

Fast didn’t even come close to describing what happened.

You cut him off with a soft laugh, shaking your head as your fingers gently cupped his jaw. “Oh, honey,” you cooed. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

His eyes flickered to the camera behind you. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

You followed his gaze, then turned back to him with a smile. “Of course not,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his hair. “You kind of made everything better, actually.”

His brows knitted together. “I did?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Do you know…”

You started to roll your hips again.

“How hot it is…”

A soft squelch filled the air.

“To fuck with your cum inside me?”

He could barely comprehend the words that had just left your mouth, let alone the feeling of you moving against him. His eyelids struggled to stay open, the question catching in his throat before it spilled out in a breathy whisper. “Hot?”

“Insanely hot.”

Spencer couldn’t describe what happened after that. Obscene didn’t even begin to cover it. Surreal, maybe? But even that word felt lacking. It was all too real. You were rocking your hips on his lap, and the wet, sticky sounds filling the room were undeniably his own doing.

He held your hips tighter, half in an effort to steady himself, half because he didn’t know what else to do. The words were gone. Logic was gone. The only thing that existed was you, grinding against him with the same intensity that had already undone him once.

And he knew he was going to lose it again.

You leaned forward, your forehead pressing gently against his. “Spence, baby,” you whispered, making sure your voice was soft, just loud enough that only he could hear. “Can you fuck me again?”

He couldn’t say no even if he tried. His hands slipped beneath your thighs, fingers curling with just enough force to lift you, tilting your hips for better leverage. The shift pulled a startled gasp from you and you clung to him for balance, but he didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. His hips met yours in a swift, demanding snap.

The sound of your body meeting was unmistakable, a rhythmic slap that would’ve made him blush if he were in any state to think clearly. But right now, all he could focus on was the mess he’d made of you, the way his cum seeped out, sliding down his cock in slow drips. Whenever he thrust into you, there seemed to be more spilling out, leaving thick, creamy streaks painted across your inner thighs.

Spencer had messy sex before (all with you, of course) but this was on a whole different level. It was chaotic—unapologetically filthy. The wetness between you spread everywhere. He could feel it pooling against his thighs, trickling down your legs, and the damp sheets beneath you were clinging uncomfortably to his knees while the heady scent of sex hit his nostrils.

And your voice wasn’t helping his self-control. It was high-pitched with a tremor, somewhere between a moan and a desperate whine tumbling out in a jumble of words that barely made any sense. Your voice grew higher each minute, more frantic, until finally, he could make out a few clear words through the haze.

“Gonna c-cum,” you moaned, “I’m gonna cu—ah fuck yesyesyes—”

A final, helpless cry pushed him over the edge.

He came for the second time tonight. He tried to hold back, but the way you were clenching around him, your body pulsing through your sudden orgasm tore down what little control he had left. He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his release overtook him again, shocked that he still had anything left to give as he emptied inside you.

The intensity bordered on painful. He could feel his body pushing to its limits and every pulse of pleasure felt like it was wringing him dry. And it was no less intense for you. You jerked against him, body twitching, sweat beading on your skin. Your muscles tightened and relaxed with the rhythm of his racing heartbeat as the last spark of pleasure finally washed over you.

Neither of you moved for a while after that. The only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the heavy rise and fall of your chests pressed together.

You were the first to break the silence.

“Baby,” you hummed, a soft, breathless laugh escaping your lips, “I think that might’ve been the hottest stream we’ve ever done.”

It took a second for your words to sink in, and when they did, his eyes widened slightly. The camera was still on. The audience was still there. His nose pressed harder against your neck as he tried to hide in embarrassment.

“Really? You’re getting shy now?“

His soft groan vibrated against your skin. “I wasn’t exactly thinking about the camera,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your neck. “It left my mind the moment I… you know.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Oh, I know. I could tell.”

You started to peel yourself off of him, only for his arms to tighten around your waist. You gave a playful tap on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding you.”

“Why?”

“My brain needs a moment to process this.”

Your hand danced aimlessly across his back. “Still embarrassed?”

“Mortified,” he confirmed.

A giggle slipped out of you, and you wiggled your hips. “We still need to clean up. I don’t think you want to stay like this forever.”

He let out a sound of protest but didn’t loosen his grip. “Just a few more minutes.”

Smiling at his stubbornness, you slid your fingers into his hair, letting your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. "Spencer," you said gently, making sure the mic didn't pick up your voice. “I need to turn off the cam.”

"They wouldn't mind watching us a little longer."

You sighed, feeling the undeniable stickiness between your thighs. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, and the warmth was quickly turning into a mess that would need attention sooner rather than later. But there was something so sweet about the way he wanted to hold you that it made it impossible to resist.

"Fine," you relented with a quiet laugh, "five more minutes."

[baby-yongbok]

𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘬 + 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦

Hwang Hyunjin 𝗑 Afab!Reader

♡ Genre - Friends to Lovers

♡ CW - Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Nightmares, Alcohol usage by reader, Hyunjin calls reader rose as a nickname, One use of 'y/n'.

♡ Summary - Your avoidant tendencies have allowed the burn of pink and white to keep you Hyunjin at a safe distance until it all comes crashing down. Can the fire that kept you apart also be what brings you together?

♡ Word Count - 9.2k

♡ A/N - I went from not being sure if I liked this fic to being in love with it. I think that it's a very sweet fic and I loved writing it. I worked so hard on it and I'm so proud of it. The goal was for it to be 4k words.. then I almost posted it at 8k but now... yeah. I hope that you love this as much as I do!

♡ Playlist - Pink + White - Frank Ocean, Rainy Days - V, For Us - V, Beautiful Things - Benson Boone, Trajectories - Bruno Major

✧ Masterlist ✧

When you were six years old you punched a boy in the face on the playground. That was the first time that you ever felt the burn of genuine fear.

Your mom along with the many others came swirling around them. When your mother asked you what happened you cried. You clung to her running over to you and the crying brunette boy on the playground with a mix of emotions and explained the best you could through your tears that you didn’t like that he was chasing you, when you agreed to play tag you thought that you’d be the chaser not the one being chased.

That was the day that you learned two things about yourself, you have a habit of acting impulsively when you’re scared and you don’t like being chased. It's suffocating.

As you got older your friends described you as the avoidant type, especially in relationships. You developed a reputation for being an ice queen in your Sophomore year of university which led to you being one of the most sought after girls on campus. 

You’ve lost friends because of this. Their boyfriends saw getting close to them as a gateway to meeting you. Many guys took dating you as a challenge with an end prize of overnight popularity. Unfortunately, some of your closest relationships have been destroyed because of it. You learned not to be sad about it, you’ve come to terms with it, this is just the way that it goes. Of course your other friends were all important to you but you always told yourself that you’re alright with losing them as long as you have your best friend by your side. 

“More roses? Are you in love or something?” You weaved through the cluttered art studio that Hyunjin has claimed as his own. It’s on the dead side of campus on the second floor of a building that was abandoned last year. Your best friend refused to let the studio go when it was shut down, he says that it houses some of his fondest memories. 

“Always in love, never loved back.” He quips, eyes still trained on the canvas. “You’re early.”

You jump up onto one of the few clear desks in the room, right behind his easel. “Chemistry ended early.” Hyunjin stands straight, eyeing his canvas for a second before looking over at you. He knows that you’re skipping class. Your last hook-up is in that class and you're trying to avoid his attempt at getting you in his bed again. If you’re being honest, the decision to sleep with him was impulsive. You blame the beer, all eight of them.

“I thought that we could go to the exhibition early.” He starts another brush stroke and silence swallows you both. “I’m excited about it and if I’m being honest I just wanna spend time with you. I’ve barely seen you for the past three days.”

Hyunjin’s steady hand wavers and he thanks his lucky stars that you didn’t see it. “Aw she misses me. She loves me so much.” The sound of your feet hitting the ground as you jump off of the desk echoes through the dusty room of stacked chairs and forgotten storage items. 

Hyunjin stands and dips the paint brush covered in bright pink in the cup of water next to him. “You could’ve come to my place ya know.” You grab your stuff, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. 

“Your brother is there, you know how he gets.” You scrunch your face at the thought of Hyunjin’s step brother, Jeongin. The two of you get along perfectly, almost as well as you and Hyunjin until Jeongin starts flirting. He confessed to you on New Years and you’ve been avoiding him ever since. He’s too sweet for you, you’d hate to hurt him. “I’m gonna go change, I’ll meet you by your car.”

“You brought a costume change for an art exhibit?” He asks as he starts cleaning his space.

“Of course, I need to look like art too.” You smile at him but he doesn’t smile back, he rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the mess of paints and rags on the desk in front of him. He waits until he hears the door open and close behind you to finally let the corners of his mouth turn up. He chuckles to himself quietly while his mind comes up with responses that he’d never dare to utter out loud.

“This one looks like you, rose.” The year old nickname slips off of Hyunjin’s tongue like silk. You’ve never fully understood how the name stuck. You figured that it’s because roses are his favorite flower and he thought it was cute. You’ve never asked for its origin but you don’t mind the name. It’s sweet.

You turn to view the series of pink, white and green dots making up a bouquet of roses on the framed canvas in front of Hyunjin. He studies it with smiling eyes though the neutral look on his face could fool those who haven’t experienced him like you have.

“It’s pretty.” You mumble as you lean your head on his shoulder. You wrap your arm around his and the sleeve of the brown oversized flannel shirt that you picked out a year ago rides up his forearm a bit, he blames the chills running up his spine on the breeze against the newly exposed skin. 

“I knew I’d see you here.” The voice of a woman next to Hyunjin startles you a bit. You stand straight and watch as Hyunjin smiles towards her. He’s cursing her in his head for interrupting the moment between the two of you but he learned a long time ago to just live in the moment when it comes to you.

“Of course, I had to see this exhibition.” He shakes her hand and you chalk it up to her being someone important though she doesn’t look much older than either of you. “You put it together beautifully.”

Ah, she owns the gallery. “Oh, please, it’s nothing. I just hope that you’re enjoying it. I actually thought about you when I put this piece up.” She motions towards the art in front of the two of you. The piece that Hyunjin says resembles you. “It looks like something you’d design. I’m still desperate to organize a local exhibition for you, ya know.”

Hyunjin laughs but it's stiff and polite. He’s being shy. He’s a very cautious person but he reaches a whole new level when it comes to his art. “I’m not quite on that level yet.”

“I disagree but I won’t bother you about it until you graduate. This is your final semester, right?” You can see her eyes smiling just like Hyunjin’s were a second ago as she checks him out. She’s shameless in her actions, the glint in her eyes is far from professional. 

“Yes, just three months to go.” She nods, dragging her gaze up from his lips with a smile. 

“Call me when you graduate, I’d love to have you working with us.” She pulls a business card out of her pocket and flashes one last smile before waving a reluctant goodbye towards your best friend. 

Silence settles between the two of you for just a couple of seconds before you break it. “She wants to fuck you so badly that she didn’t even look at me.” Hyunjin scoffs at your whispered words as he slips the card into his pocket. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t notice. How old is she anyway? She looks a bit young to be in charge of this place.”

“Her father owns it.” He mumbles as he grabs your wrist and leads you over to the next piece of art. 

“Oh, of course. She probably thought I was your girlfriend, ya know. She’s rude as hell for not even asking or looking at me. I know she saw me here, she’s clearly -” You’re pulled into Hyunjin’s side before you can finish your sentence. The sudden action cuts you off with a heavy thump of your heart and that painfully familiar burn rising in your chest. 

“Look at this one.” Your eyes are on him but his are on the art. “This one looks like you too.” You pull your gaze away from him to view the piece. The thumping in your chest doubles once your gaze meets your own. It’s a mirror with pink and white abstract designs floating around and over the glass. The paint is so messy yet strategic. It leaves just enough room for your reflection. 

“It’s messy yet elegant, don’t you think? You can’t help but to stare..” He’s visibly smiling now. The corners of his mouth turn up as he studies the art in front of him. As he studies you. “This one might be my favorite. It’ll be hard to beat it.”

“I don’t like it.” You mutter quickly, pulling away from Hyunjin and turning towards the next piece. You try your best to steady your breathing. You will your heart to calm down so that you can take a complete breath but it’s betraying you. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” 

You’re walking away before Hyunjin can reply. He watches you with that smile in his eyes as you disappear around the corner. He knew that what he pulled would be a risk but it was one that he was willing to take. He doesn’t call you beautiful nearly as much as he should or as much as he really wants to. 

In the bathroom you’re slumped against the door of a stall while you try to catch your breath. You don’t like how Hyunjin’s words made that white hot burn in your chest kick up. You don’t like the way that his eyes being on you made you feel like you were the only two in the entire gallery. It’s suffocating. 

When you step out of the stall your fingers are busy on your phone screen. You find your friend Isa’s number quickly and take a sigh of relief when she answers on the third ring. You bypass reciprocating her kind greeting and get right to the point. 

“Get-together at yours tomorrow?”

You’re standing in the middle of the Pink and White art exhibition. Other viewers jumble together along the walls of the gallery and crowd the pieces. You can’t see anything but their blurred faces decorating the white walls. There’s a slow yet heavy beating in your ears but you’re comfortable. You’re alone in the middle of it all, watching everyone from a pleasant distance as you turn to study them all as if they’re the art on the walls.

 The beating in your ears skips as you turn and come face to face with Hyunjin. He’s standing in front of you wearing that brown hat that you love and the oversized flannel that he bought just to share with you.

 Suddenly the others in the room are quiet. All eyes are on you but Hyunjin’s gaze is the most piercing. His brown eyes are smiling at you with a softness that makes the flame in your chest burn brighter. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You look around at everyone else but they’ve vanished along with the art on the walls. The beating in your ears picks up, it’s deafening but Hyunjin’s voice can be heard loud and clear over the noise.  

“I like staring at you.” He takes a step towards you but you take two back. He frowns and steps forward again. You repeat the process until your back is against the wall. “Why do you do that?” 

“I’m not doing anything.” You swallow hard as you try to push him away but he’s stronger than you. As strong as stone caging you against the stark white wall. “I can’t breathe.” You’re pushing as hard as you can but it’s no use. You’re stuck under him.

“Why do you do this?” He’s still staring down at you, a burning gaze setting your skin ablaze. “Why do you keep running?” The beating in your ears drowns out all sensible thoughts. You can feel your veins swelling with fear and the blinding white burning in your chest puffs up with the crushing pressure of having him so close. Too close. 

“Back up.” You inhale the thick air, feeling dizzy. “Move.”

“Stop running.” You try to inhale but it gets stuck in your throat. You want to scream. You need to escape. You need to get out of here. 

You lift your heavy arm the best you can and pull back enough to punch Hyunjin. You aim for his face but your fist goes through him just as your lungs start to burn, you take one last look at him before the wall behind you gives out and you’re falling backwards. Hyunjin watches you, his eyes are void of that sparkling smile and guilt consumes you right before you hit the ground.

You jump up with a gasp as your eyes frantically search the room around you. Your chest rises and falls heavily and sweat beads at your hairline.

It was a dream. 

Friday is a late day for you with your last class ending at nine in the evening. Hyunjin always waits for you in the abandoned art studio, he waits for two hours just to walk you to your dorm across campus. It’s become a routine for the two of you but you told him not to wait up tonight. He was reluctant at first, he insisted on waiting for you but you were adamant about breaking your routine.

He agreed eventually but you could see the dejection in his eyes as he hugged you goodbye before your last class. He watched you walk away just like he always did but this time his heart was heavy in his chest. Did he do something wrong? 

That question haunted him throughout the day. It was loud in his head as he collected his stuff and made his way to the abandoned studio. It echoed in his ears as he tried to finish the painting of his vibrant rose that he’s added notes of dusty pale pink to. But it was the loudest when Jeongin called him to ask if he was going to the get-together at Minho’s place tonight.

He knows that you and Minho’s girlfriend Isa are close so you have to know about this, hell, you might’ve even helped plan it and you kept it from him. You’re avoiding him.

You skipped your class to head to Minho and Isa’s place. They share a small apartment right off of campus that you often use as an escape. Isa is one of the few friends that you still have from sophomore year since her boyfriend has never once tried to get in your pants. 

You sat on Isa’s bed clutching a bottle of soju that is not at all meant for one person while you laid your head in her lap. You loved being with her because there was never any pressure to fill the silence. She understands you in a way that other people just don’t. Not even Hyunjin. 

“So, he called you pretty?” You’ve been telling her everything from what happened at the art gallery to the nightmare you had last night. “And now you’re avoiding him?”

“I’m not avoiding him.” You take a swig from the glass bottle and gulp hard to rush the alcohol into your system. “I’m just being careful.”

“You’re being careful by avoiding your best friend… because he called you pretty and you had a nightmare about it?” You sit up with a groan, lifting the bottle to your mouth again with a sigh. She’s not getting it. 

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me. You didn’t feel the way he pulled me into him, his arm wrapped around my waist and he just stared at me with that smile in his eyes. You know the one that makes his eyes shine when he sees something pretty? He was looking at me like that and he told me that I looked elegant. Messy but elegant and that he couldn’t help but to stare. There was a softness in his voice, I swear, and he just wouldn’t take his eyes off of me. It’s like he was looking into me instead of at me it was… it was..”

“Sweet?” You tap the bottle in your hands with your nails. 

“Suffocating. It was too much. It made my heart skip and it made me feel hot.” 

“That usually means that you like him, ya know.” She takes the bottle from you, drinking from it a bit herself. “ You know that he’s a romantic and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this with him.” She hands the cold glass back to you while you think back to the other times that you’ve felt this. The latest being your birthday three months ago when Hyunjin whisked you away to the next city for a mini getaway. 

You stayed in the same hotel room and on the night of your birthday you had a bit too much to drink. He carried you up to your room since you were too out of it to walk but you weren’t too far gone to forget the way that he handled you with such gentle care.

He brushed your hair out of your face when he laid you on your bed and took your make-up off with such a tender touch that it made you want to kiss him. You almost kissed him. 

“I don’t like him like that.” You shrug and she sighs. 

“Whatever you say, ice queen.” That damned nickname makes you cringe but Minho is bursting through the door before you can rebuttal. 

“Jisung and Bin just got here, come on.” You stare at him with confused eyes and he crosses his arms as he stares back at you. “Well? Get up, you wanted to do this.”

“Do what?” You look over at Isa who’s already getting up from the bed.

“Did you not call her asking for a get-together? People are getting here so come on. I’m not hosting this by myself.” Your heart drops and you stare over at Isa who looks back at you with her own look of confusion until it all sinks in.

 “You meant for it to be just us, didn’t you?”

Hyunjin is a cautious person, anyone who knows him knows that about him. He doesn’t like when things go wrong because of him. It eats him alive until he can fix it and if he can’t he lets the anxiety consume him until a part of him dies with the memory of it all. 

His cautious nature is what prompted him to drive home after he got that call from Jeongin. It brought him right to his bedroom where he dropped his bag by the foot of his bed and laid back against the mattress with a death stare set on the dull ceiling. It stared back at him, reflecting his thoughts back to him for him to analyze. 

His brother left for the get-together as soon as he walked through the door and Hyunjin was tempted to follow him down to Seungmin’s car.

He was tempted to drop his bag and turn on his heels and come straight to you but he knew better. He knew you better than you knew yourself. If he shows up at that get-together you’ll avoid him like the plague. You’ll feel trapped by his presence and any hope that he has of fixing this situation will die right in front of his eyes. 

His cautious nature is what’s keeping him on his bed. It’s what’s grounding him to this spot and sating the burning desire to chase you. The problem is that the fire in his chest is bigger than he can handle. He’s seen how you treat the men you want to avoid on campus, he’s seen you take the long way home just to avoid a conversation and the thought of you doing that to him makes him wilt. He can’t let that happen. 

His feet are carrying him across his room before he can even fully process it. He opens his closet and pulls out the brown flannel along with his brown beanie. They’ve become comfort items for the both of you at this point, especially the flannel. It feels like a thread connecting you to him and him to you. He needs to save that connection.

 He sloppily throws on the items while he checks the clock. He’s nearly two hours late but there’s still time. 

Hyunjin has never gotten a speeding ticket but he was nearly positive that he’d get one tonight. He made it to Minho’s place in record time but he’s panting when he knocks on the door like he’s ran there. His heart is hammering when Isa answers the door and the look on her face when she takes him in only makes his heart beat faster. 

She forces a smile, inviting him in and telling him where everything is but he already knows all of that and she knows that he does. “She doesn’t want to see me does she?” Isa sighs, giving him a look that answers each and every one of his questions all at once. 

“Thanks for letting me in.” He walks past her with a nervous huff, making his way into the small party and searching for you immediately. He finds Changbin and Chan before he can find you and the two quickly drag him into a conversation about gods know what while wedging a glass bottle of mystery liquid into his fist. 

Hyunjin’s eyes wander in an attempt to find you as he ignores his friends' conversation. Luckily it didn’t take long for the sound of your loud laughter to echo through the room. His eyes were on you in an instant once he heard it. You’re right in front of him sitting in the truth or dare circle with a can of something strong in your hand. You’re always the loudest in the room but right now you seem to be the drunkest too, you shouldn’t be playing that game you’ll do something reckless.  

He wants to go over and pull you up, he wants to tell you that you’re going home and that you need to sober up. He wants to get you to talk to him but he ignores everything he wants and watches you instead. He stays cautious and keeps his distance. 

“Y/n, truth or dare.” One of your few girl friends, Harvey asks from across the circle. You answer ‘dare’ with a wide smile, it’s no surprise, you always pick that. The raven haired girl looks over to Mingi for assistance since she’s known for picking terrible dares. After a couple seconds of deliberation the blonde perks up with an idea.

“I dare you to kiss whoever this bottle lands on.” Mingi dares with a nonchalant smile and you shrug, the alcohol in your system is surely boosting your confidence but it’s not like you’ll remember any of this tomorrow so who cares, right?

He spins the bottle in the middle of the circle and everyone watches with quiet anticipation as it lands on the copper haired boy sitting three people away from you. It’s Jeongin. 

He stops in the middle of sipping from his cup and flashes you a small innocent smile but what you return to him is nothing less than a look of raw seduction. You’re on your feet in an instant, making your way over to him with low and hazy eyes. You straddle him swiftly, getting comfortable in his lap like you’ve done this a hundred times. 

“You sure about this, noona?” His hands rest on your thighs, he brushes his thumbs over the bareskin and you can feel a shiver down your spine. It almost reminds you of how Hyunjin touched you on your birthday. 

“Do you not wanna kiss me?” You tease him with a slight slur to your voice. You know he wants to kiss you, everyone does except for Hyunjin, right? 

Just as that thought passes your eyes flicker up and meet those of the very man on your mind. He’s watching you with an angry gaze as he fists the neck of the glass bottle in his hand. Your mouth goes dry as you take him in, when did he get here? You feel stuck staring at him, everything around you is suddenly muted and the people around you disappear. It’s only you and Hyunjin.

Both of your hearts are pounding in your chest. 

Both of you feel like you can’t breathe. 

Both of you are about to do something that you shouldn’t.

“Kiss her already!” Ryujin instigates from across the circle and you snap out of your haze and blink down at Jeongin. You both share a smile, one more genuine than the other, before he’s leaning into you. His lips just barely brush against yours before you’re interrupted.

A firm grip on your shoulder startles you and the man under you. You both look up to meet the eyes of the angry Hyunjin above you.“Get up.” He practically growls with a slight tug on your arm. You stare up at him with glassy eyes though you are feeling a bit more sober now. “Get. Up.” 

You’re being pulled up before you can process it. Your feet fight to keep up with him as you stumble towards the bedroom he’s leading you to. You can feel all eyes on you, you can feel the room getting smaller once he locks the bedroom door behind the two of you and pulls his flannel off to drape over your shoulders, something that he does to comfort you. 

“What the fuck?” That’s all you can manage to get out of your mouth as you stare over at him. He stares back with his arms crossed and his chest rising and falling with what you perceive as anger but he would describe as anxiety. Pure fear. 

“Do you understand what you were about to do?” Hyunjin tries to be mindful of his tone. He tries to limit the waver of his words and calm the frantic thoughts in his head. He’s trying. “Why would you kiss him?”

“I didn’t.” The alcohol in your system takes over again and you thank the ridiculous amount of soju you’ve consumed for coming to the rescue. You tug on the flannel resting over your shoulders, pretending that its warmth would protect you from the buzzing in your head and inevitable burning in your chest.

“You would’ve if I didn’t stop you. What happened to you not being into Jeongin? What happened to you not wanting to hurt him?”

You groan, stomping your foot like a child being scolded by their guardian. Like the little girl who punched the brunette boy in the face for chasing her. “Why don’t you mind your business?”

Hyunjin scoffs, his anxiety grows in his chest and he takes a step back. “You are my business.” 

It’s silent for one, two, three heartbeats before the dizzying emotions burning in your chest fill in the silence for you. “Well maybe I shouldn’t be. You’re way too attached to me.”

Hyunjin feels frozen even though he’s stepping back from you. He’s creating more space between the two of you just like you seem to be doing. What do you mean by that? You’re rambling on before he can ask. “You do all of these things that make me feel like I can’t breathe. You call me pretty and you touch me softly and you hold me close and… and you just make me feel hot. You suffocate me.”

Hyunjin whispers through the bubbles forming in his throat. He’s gentle with the way he speaks, he is a cautious person after all, especially when it comes to his art. “Is this about what I said at the gallery?”

His question goes in one ear and right out the other. Your brain formulates words quicker than you can process them, creating a violent episode of word vomit that threatens to spill over your lips and onto the carpet but you swallow hard and condense it all into one simple yet seering sentence. “You keep making my heart race, it’s not fair. You need to go, just go.”

Hyunjin’s blood runs cold and his temples throb like you’ve hit him. Like you’ve punched him in the face. Anxiety bubbles in his veins and swells behind his eyes. It’s his turn to ramble, the word vomit seems to be contagious. 

“I’m not leaving.” His gaze is frantic, cautious, scared. “I am too attached, you’re right. I have been for a while. I’ve loved you for a while and I tried to hide it but I shouldn’t have to. I shouldn’t be scared that I’ll lose my best friend if I tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

 “No, you are not confessing to me right now. Don’t you dare do that.” You pace to the left then the right in a hurried attempt to escape his words before they could reach you. He can’t be doing this right now. You needed to get out of here.

“I am. I am confessing to you. I need you to hear me say that I love you because I do and it scares me just as much as it scares you but you are the reason that it’s scaring me. Losing you is the reason that I’m afraid and I need you to tell me that that isn’t going to happen.” His voice is shaky just like your hands. He watches you like a dog being dropped off at the pound as you physically try to escape him. He knew this would happen, this is what he was afraid of. 

“Stop. Just stop it, Hyunjin. You’re doing it again, I can’t breathe when you’re this close to me.” He stares over at you from the other side of the room and you stare back at him. This doesn’t make any sense. He isn’t next to you but you still can’t breathe. It doesn’t make any sense. “I have to go - I have - just… just leave me alone.” You turn towards the bedroom door but he speaks up before you can make your escape. 

“I’m not going to chase you.” Hyunjin is unmoving. His feet are still planted to the floor like a statue as he slips his fists into his pocket. “I don’t want to push you further away but don’t you dare go home and convince yourself that I don’t care just because I let you go.” 

You listen to him over your hammering heart with your back turned to him and your unsteady gaze trained on the worn door knob. “I’m letting you go with the hope that you’ll come back. You know where to find me.” 

Your feet threaten to betray you, they try to turn you around and drive you over to him but your heart is screaming. That white flame is burning in your chest and begging you to run. Run as fast as you can and find safety, but your safety is standing behind you. It’s watching you with teary eyes that are desperate to meet yours. 

A tear slips down your cheek as you grab the doorknob and pull it with a quick twist. You follow your heart and rush out of the room with tears decorating your face and your hand over your mouth. You let the burning win again.

You rush past everyone, Isa tries to stop you and Minho even catches you for a minute but you fight him off of you and make your way to the front door. You don’t get too far before the last layer of your resolve snaps, You turn onto the next dark block and sink to the ground. Sobs rip through you as Hyunjin’s words hang in your head. He loves you. He wants you but you left him. You left everything you’ve ever wanted behind you. 

A heavier sob escapes you as the truth of it all comes crashing down. You love him too, don’t you? You’ve loved him for so long. Since your birthday and beyond that but you’ve been avoiding it. You’ve avoided your feelings just like you have everything else. You’ve punched yourself in the face, you’ve chased yourself into a corner and now you might just lose everything you have left. You might lose your best friend.

The storms over the next two days swirl the skies into mysterious clouds of pink and white as rain soaks the grass the same way that you’ve soaked your pillow for hours. You’ve opted to stay in, avoiding anything or anyone that could remind you of Friday’s catastrophe.

 You’ve debated texting Jeongin and apologizing for what you remember of the situation. You almost called Isa to spill the fears bubbling in your lungs to her so that she could help you sort through them but she can’t. This is up to you. You need to make a choice. Will you run away from the fire or towards it? 

On the other side of campus Hyunjin sits in the abandoned studio with paint stained hands and dried tears on his cheeks. He’s left his previous painting incomplete. The bright blushing rose sits across the room with the others just like it while he touches his brush to the canvas and smears a smoky mauve to the pristine white flesh. His lines are messy and uncalculated. Far from cautious. 

For a moment he considers that he was only ever careful because of you. Your lack of control over your emotions inspired him to fill in the blanks for you. Now there’s no need for caution without you.

The rain carried into Monday along with the emptiness in your chest. You’ve typed and deleted paragraphs to Hyunjin who has done the same as he sat on the studio floor.

He stayed in the dusty room until midnight each day that he was without you and you stayed up well past then. He poured himself into painting and you poured yourself onto the carpet of your dorm room. You made lists and mapped your emotions until it all started to make a bit more sense. Until the love that burned alongside your hot white fear was glowing pink in the mirror. 

You skipped your classes on Monday, your feet drove you over to the dead side of campus through the violent rain. You stood in the hallway outside of Hyunjin’s studio. The worn copper doorknob stared back at you like it knew what you were here to do. Like it was daring you to go inside. You suck in a breath as you grab the metal, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare.

The studio is empty when you walk inside. The fading warm light of the lamps that you and Hyunjin bought and snuck in illuminate the space the best that they can given the dull pink skies. Your eyes catch on the new piece sitting up on his easel. It’s dark and runny, it’s raw and it feels like it’s calling your name. 

“Hi.” Hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. His voice is small and surprised as he stares over at your frame clad in that famous brown flannel and sweatpants. 

“Hi.” You whisper back. He looks like a mess. Brown hat, pulled too far over his head and his hair spilling from every exit it can find. “More roses?” 

He stares passed you and over at the wilting petals on the canvas with a sad smile. “It’s like I’m in love or something.” 

Your guilt tinged heart beats a bit faster when he steps further into the room and closes the door behind him. He drops his bag next to the door and stares at the dinghy tile with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. For everything, for the party and everything with your brother and for everything that I said.” 

The word vomit is back. It spilled over your lips before you could attempt to swallow it back but you’re almost thankful for it. You have no clue how you’d get your words out otherwise. “You just made me feel… I just felt..” You kick at the cracked tile as if it holds the answers you’re looking for but Hyunjin beats you to it.

“Suffocated.” His eyes are on you now, they’re low and shadowed in a longing sadness. “I’ve seen this happen a million times to other guys and I thought that I was being careful enough to avoid it.”��

“This is nothing like the other guys.” Your bag slumps off of your shoulder and you carelessly allow it to hit the floor. “Your confession just -” He cuts you off with a tight smile.

 “I know. It ruined everything.” He sighs, sad eyes examining the space between the two of you. “I ruined everything and I’m sorry for that, rose. I really am.”

“It didn't. It didn’t ruin anything, it just scared me. I felt suffocated, yes, but not by you. It was by what I felt for you. That’s why this isn’t like what happened with any of the other guys. I never wanted them. Avoiding them was easy but you… avoiding you..” Hyunjin watches your heaving chest with the caution that he thought had abandoned him. He’s quiet, allowing you time to gather your thoughts. He doesn’t want to corner you, he just wants to hear you. 

“Why do you call me that?” You whisper once your breathing has steadied. “Why did you start calling me rose?”

Suddenly he’s looking past you then down at the tile under his feet. He leans against the door behind him, a faint smile decorating his sad face. “You were wearing one in your hair on the day that I realized I love you.” He looks over to where his easel is set up. “We were sitting right there and you had a pale pink rose behind your left ear. You picked me one to match and I told you that it was my favorite flower because in that moment it was. It was beautiful but you…your beauty is hard to beat.”

Your heart is thumping in your ears, it’s a sound that you’ve grown comfortable with over the past few days. The clutter of the abandoned room almost seems to disappear as you process his words. The burning in your chest makes itself known along with the newly identified pink flame. The white walls of the studio almost seem brighter as you receive Hyunjin’s confession. You let it sink in and drown out the tension little by little. “So when you paint them…”

“I’m painting you. I’m always painting you.” The thumping is deafening but Hyunjin is clear over the noise. He has always been the only one who can cut through it all, even in your dreams. 

You can feel yourself falling just like in your nightmare only it’s forwards. You’re falling forwards as your feet carry you to him. You run. You run to him and you fall into his arms that have been desperate to catch you for months. The burn in your chest is paralyzing, it’s seering and fighting the pink flame for dominance. 

You cry into his chest, you sob as the pain of running into the fire engulfs you. It swallows you whole and you stand in it with him, you cling to him before you burn to ash and he holds you like he knows it all. He cradles the back of your head like he can feel the fire ripping your flesh apart. 

You’re flush against him, tears soaking his shoulder and burning all over until he does what no one has done before. He puts it all out. A simple kiss to the top of your head dowses the flame and reduces it to a measly spark of fear overshadowed by an uncontainable pink and white glow of love in your chest. 

You gasp at the cooling effect. Air rushes into your lungs and you can finally breathe, he’s the oxygen you needed. He’s everything you’ve needed but now you want to give your air away again. You want to give it all to him. 

You pull away from his shoulder in one swift motion, your eyes are shut tight as your lips find his and you pull him into a hard and messy kiss. The sound that escapes you both is desperate and beautiful. His lips move with yours in an uncoordinated rhythm that makes your lungs burn comfortably. They burn the way that they’re supposed to. 

Hyunjin cries into the kiss. Tears stream down his cheeks as he cradles you against him like you’d vanish if he didn’t. He drinks it all in, he allows himself to live in this moment that he’s been dying to have with you for what feels like an eternity before he reluctantly breaks the kiss. 

His eyes are still closed when he pulls away. He whispers to you, careful not to crack the shell of this delicate moment. “I thought you -” 

“I don’t want to keep running. I can’t, I need you. I can’t lose you.” Your eyes flutter open at the same time as his. He stares down at you with that smile in his eyes. That smile he has when he sees something beautiful, when he’s utterly enamored by the sight before him. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do any of this, I only know that I want to do it with you.”

He’s quiet for a couple of seconds before a smile sneaks up on him. It fades just as quickly as it came and his eyebrows pinch together. “You want me?” You nod and the smile shows itself again. 

“I want you.” He leans back in, cupping your cheek as he kisses you hard. His body pushes against yours and you move with him as he walks backwards towards one of the few empty desks and lifts you onto it. 

His hands explore every inch of you that he can reach. He balls his fist over the baggy flannel hiding your body from him while your fingers tangle in his hair and scratch over his shoulders and up his arms.

 He breaks the kiss to run his lips over the flushed flesh of your neck, he whispers into your skin between each kiss “Tell me to stop.” He pulls at the collar of the flannel to kiss the curve of your neck. “I’ve waited so long for this, please tell me to stop. Tell me to wait.”

You push his head further into the crook of your neck as you tilt your head further to give him better access. “I don’t want you to.” He sucks a mark into the skin right below your ear and you pull his tucked in shirt from his pants with an elated moan. 

His clumsy fingers fight to unbutton the oversized flannel as yours attempt to unbutton his jeans. You reach your goal before he does and waste no time capitalizing on your victory. You dip your hand in just enough to fish his growing erection from his briefs and wrap your hand around it. 

Hyunjin moans at the stimulation, leaning his forehead against yours and squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. “Fuck, please don’t, I wont - I can’t last.”

 You kiss his temple softly, whispering reassurance that you don’t care to have him last, you just want to have him. Once he’s centered himself again he continues his struggle to expose your body to him. The final button falls open like the curtain to a play and he stares down your scantily clad torso like an audience in awe. 

His hand moves on its own as he admires you. It dips into the waistband of your sweatpants and swipes over your clothed clit.

 Your head falls forward to rest on his shoulder with a quiet moan as he groans into the air. Your grip on his cock tightens a bit in response to the sensation and he hisses. “Please tell me I can feel you. Is it okay? Can I?” 

He doesn't want your first time to be here but he wants you. He needs you. 

Hyunjin hooks a finger into the damp gusset of your panties and pulls it to the side just enough to slip a finger into your waiting cunt. You pant in his ear, wanton moans bubble over the brim of your lips as his free hand cradles the side of your neck. “Look at me, please look at me, baby.”

 He runs his thumb over your cheek, brushing over the path of your dried tears. “So pretty, this must be a dream.” You shake your head. Speaking between moans. “Not a dream, baby.”

 He slips in another finger as you circle your palm over the head of his cock and you both moan. “Please tell me I can.” He leans his forehead against yours, his desperate eyes reflect the look in your own.

“You can. Please, I want you to.” 

“Have you ever thought about it?” He’s asking before he can process it and you’re shaking your head before he can even finish his sentence. A shy glaze washes over your desperate gaze as you watch him undress you.

 “You’re all I ever think about.” He whispers as he hooks his thumbs into the band of your pants. “You’re all I’ve wanted for the past year.” 

“I’ve loved you since my birthday.” You blurt out, vulnerable eyes peering into his. “Maybe even before that.” He runs a finger over your clothed cunt and you shudder under the touch.

“I wanted to kiss you the night of your birthday. You looked so beautiful but you were wasted. You wouldn’t have remembered. I just stared at you, I took your make-up off and I brushed the hair from your face and you stared back at me. I was just dying to kiss you. I was dying to confess.” Your hand runs slowly up his shaft and he swears that he feels electric. 

“I wanted to kiss you too.” He’s quiet, staring back at you with a smile. “That’s why I was staring”

“I kissed your forehead when you fell asleep.”  He pulls your panties down your legs, allowing them to pool at his feet with your sweatpants. “I knelt by your bed and whispered my confession to you.” 

His fingers are filling you again and you gasp while staring into his eyes. “I wanna hear it.” You whisper through a moan.

 “You want to hear my confession?” You nod, your gently fucked out gaze stares into his like your hypnotized by the moment. He scissors his finger into you, stretching you out just a bit before you’re gasping from the stretch of him replacing his fingers with his length. 

“Fuck, you’re inside of me.” Hyunjin stills with a groan. His forehead rests on your shoulder while he silently begs himself not to come undone just yet. He sucks in a breath before he recites all that he can remember. 

“You’re everything that I thought it would be to fall in love.” He whispers as he pulls back, thrusting into you slowly. “You really snuck up on me, I don’t know what I expected though.” He lifts his head to look at you as he sinks back into you. “You became my world so quickly. So effortlessly.”

 You cup his face with both of your hands as you bite back your moans. You want to hear him loud and clear. You want to remember every word. “I should’ve known that I’d fall in love when I first met you.” He picks up the pace, falling into a messy rhythm that’s accompanied by a fit of moans and grunts. 

He struggles to keep his eyes on you. They flutter shut with each thrust as he feels himself float closer and closer to his climax. “Baby, I won’t last.” You wrap your arms around his neck and one of his wraps around your waist while the other rests on your thigh before creeping over to softly pinch and rub your clit. 

“Hyune, you’re gonna make me - gonna -” He cuts you off with a sloppy kiss, his tongue brushes over your parted lips to request access before making room for itself against yours.

“If you tell me that you’re gonna cum I won’t last another second.” He whispers against your lips and you moan against his.

“What if I tell you that I love you.” Hyunjin’s eyebrows pinch at the confession. That’s way worse than telling him that you’re close. “I’ve loved you back for as long as - as long as you’ve loved me.”

“Rose, baby, you’re gonna -” It’s your turn to kiss him now, it’s a mess of teeth and tongue but you love it. You love him and him you.

 You both pull away in tandem, twin moans ripping through your chests as you both announce yourself to the other. 

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Hyunjin pulls out of you, painting your thighs in his sticky white release while his fingers toy with your clit to ride you through your orgasm. It’s loud and messy and beautiful. A romantic elegance that you want to live in for as long as it’s available. 

Once you’ve both come down from your high Hyunjin kisses your sweaty forehead and you kiss his. He pulls his bottoms up before grabbing the cleanest paint rag he has to clean you up. A comfortable silence settles around you as you ground yourself and take in the space.

“You didn’t finish that one.”

He follows your gaze over to the painting of the pale pink rose. The middle of the canvas contrasts the rest with nothing but dull line art to show the completed picture. It looks like a work in progress. “I know, but I think I like it like that.” He looks back over at you and you at him.

“It looks like you."

It’s been seven months. Graduation has come and gone in the middle of your blooming relationship with Hyunjin and you’ve dedicated each and every second of your budding love to taming the flame. 

Each kiss from him has kept the spark of fear at bay and each touch has taught you how to stop running. It’s been a slow and cautious process that he is more than proud to be a part of. He takes pride in it. He takes pride in being with you.

The smooth breeze of late summer brushes against your skin as you step out of your car. The white dress that Hyunjin picked out for you sticks to you like paint on a canvas as you make your way up to the art gallery. 

It’s buzzing inside, people stand and stare in awe at each piece while whispering and pointing to their favorite details. You stop and stand in the middle of it all, taking it all in with a slow spin on the balls of your feet. You take in every corner until you turn around completely and you’re met with the face of the artist himself. 

“Hi.” Hyunjin smiles down at you, brown baggy flannel hanging from his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You stare back at him with a gleaming smile in your eyes. You take in every inch of him, scanning him like he should be framed and hanging on the walls around you. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Hyunjin wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I like staring at you.” Your response makes him beam a shy smile. 

“You should be staring at the art. The artist might get sad if you don’t.” He kisses your forehead before letting you go. Some people around you stare over at the two of you with curious eyes. They’re eager to put a face to the muse of the showing artist. 

You take his hand and lead him over to the piece that a couple is walking away from. You stand in front of it hand in hand as you study it for what feels like the millionth time. “This one is my favorite.” The incomplete pale pink rose stares back at you.

“And why is that?” Hyunjin has that smile in his eyes as he stares up with you. The memory of this piece's origin plays behind his eyes like a memorized movie. 

“I’ve been told that it looks like me.” You lay your head on his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. A chill runs up his spine and he blames it on you. You and the love he feels glowing pink and white around you. 

“There you are.” History repeats itself as the lady that you’ve come to know as Dalia interrupts the two of you. “I wanted to check in with you, how does it feel to finally have your own exhibition?” 

Hyunjin smiles at her politely, turning towards her a bit with his fingers still threaded through yours. “It’s amazing. Thank you, you’ve done a wonderful job putting this together.” 

“Oh, please, it’s nothing. This is all you.” You watch her as her eyes smile just as they always have. Her hand brushes over his arm in a carefully calculated move. She’s still shameless and unprofessional. “This piece is my favorite. The unfinished look is unique and raw. What inspired this one?” 

You grin to yourself as you listen to her. She’s trying so hard that it’s difficult not to laugh. 

“Actually.” Hyunjin pulls your hand a bit, leading you forward so that you’re right next to him. It’s impossible for Dalia to ignore you now. Her eyes scan you reluctantly and the smile on her face falters for a second before she pulls it together. Gosh, that's gratifying. 

“My lovely rose here is the inspiration for it all.” Hyunjin looks over at you with a glow that is unmatched even by the largest of flames. “None of this would be possible without her.” 

It’s like Dalia disappears once Hyunjin looks over at you. You’re the only two in the room as far as you’re concerned. “Oh, well that’s just - that’s wonderful.” Her staggered speech pulls you both out of your loving haze. 

“Such a … sweet profession of love.” She glares over at you though you’re sure that in her head she’s doing a wonderful job at hiding her contempt. “I should make sure that everything is running smoothly. Please excuse me.” 

She clears her throat awkwardly before she departs, you and Hyunjin both bid her smiling farewells before turning to each other with wide smiles. “Show off.” You push his shoulder playfully and he laughs.

“I didn’t do anything.” You roll your eyes as you both wander over to the next piece on the wall. You stare up at the two pink roses in a lone vase, a shadow of sunlight casts down on them both as they rise towards its shining glow. 

A comfortable silence blankets the two of you while you listen to the soft buzz of the people around you. You squeeze his hand softly and he squeezes back just as you open your mouth to speak. 

“She still wants to fuck you.” He smiles 

“Shut up.”

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[avocado-writing]

hi!! I read your fics and I love your writing style! I was wondering if you could do something with a human reader, maybe she works in a bookshop or she’s a teacher? And it’s all cute because he finds her genuine??? Maybe some angst because she finds herself in danger? Idk sorry I’m rambling I just wanted something with a human reader 🧍🏻‍♀️💐

the place where the pages meet

logan howlett x bookseller!reader

4k words, rated explicit.

cocky!logan; awkward!reader; excessive book references; threat of physical violence (quickly averted); anti-mutant language & sentiments; smut (oral - reader receiving, penetrative sex). minors dni. thank you @saradika-graphics for dividers!

The sky is heavy with the promise of rain, and you suck your breath in through your teeth. It’s fifty-fifty on days like these: either people will seek shelter in your little store, or they’ll scurry away with the fear any purchases they make will get soaked and ruined.

God damn it, what kind of fool opens an independent book shop in New York?

You’re the kind of fool, apparently. Still, it’s your home, both figuratively between all the old paperbacks and literally with your tiny apartment on the top floor. Barely more than a studio, but enough for you. A piece for yourself carved out of this world. 

Outside it starts to pour. You sigh. Well, at least you know you’ll get one visitor today.

Charles, your dear friend and long-time financial supporter of your store, had called earlier to let you know that the usual face wouldn’t be coming to grab his order. It’s a shame, you like Ororo, enjoy sitting and sharing a pot of oolong with her on quiet days. Also she could have chased away this terrible weather for you. Ah well. 

“Who can I expect?” you’d asked. 

Charles had laughed, a warm and friendly sound. 

“Ahh, you’ll know Logan when you see him.”

You don’t know what you’d do without Charles. Between orders of rare books for his personal collections and en-masse copies of classics for the kids, he pretty much keeps this place running for you. Bless that man, honestly, because you’re not sure where you’d be without him. 

The sound of someone pulling up outside has you putting down your book and turning towards the shop window. 

A pickup truck parks up by the kerbside and you watch the man in the driver’s seat emerge into the rain. He cuts a fine figure, tall and strong, but you don’t get a good look at him until he walks through the front door. 

Oh no, you think, he’s handsome. 

Leather jacket now pocked with raindrops, very obvious white vest beneath it showing off his broad chest. He shakes like a dog to get the moisture out of his hair as he stamps his boots on the doormat, pausing only briefly to scrutinise its no admittance expect on party business slogan. 

“Logan?” you ask. He looks up and when his eyes first meet yours? Oh, a fire is sent down your spine. 

“Yeah,” he confirms, looking around to take in the place. You can’t tell if he’s impressed or not. He has a remarkably neutral face, careful, the sort of man who doesn’t want to give anything away about himself. 

“You’re… here for Charles’ books?”

He’s sauntering over to the counter now. Cocks an eyebrow. It goes right through you. Fuck. 

“That’d be me.” There’s a beat. “Why, you think someone’d try and steal them?”

“People can steal books!” you say, defensively. 

“People named Logan who you’re clearly expecting?”

You bristle, because he’s got you. Something flickers over his face for a second: a smile. 

Oh no, you think, he’s handsome and he’s an asshole.

Huffing, you fish the box out from under the desk and groan with effort as you lift it up. Logan takes it from your grasp as if it weighs nothing at all. Your fingers touch as you do. You try to ignore it.

“Thanks,” he says, easily.

“Mm. Mind the rain. It’d be a shame if you slipped.”

A proper smile crosses his face then, but he turns away too quickly for you to let it sink in. The bell on the door chimes as he heads back out into the rain.

Well, you hope you never see him again.

By the same time next week, you’re really hoping you see him again.

You’ve sort of not been able to get him out of your mind. He was kinda prickly, sure, but a welcome break from the mundanity of your life, and pretty good looking to boot. It’s probably just a pipe dream. You’re sure it’ll be Ororo again, and you can go back to the easy pattern of seeing your dear friend. That’s okay. You’re fine with it. Who needs a handsome man? You have your books, you have your store, you’re happy.

Yeah. You’re happy. 

Imagine your surprise, then, when you hear a motorbike outside your shop.

You must be blessed with street parking, because Logan pulls up right outside again. Same jacket, same well-worn jeans. He catches your eye through the window and you’re sure they glisten. You pretend to be engrossed in your book but it’s not fooling anyone, the words swim into soup on the page as you see him approach.

The door goes; he approaches the counter. Closer this time, you can smell him. Tobacco and leather. Fuck it’s good.

“You should wear a helmet,” you say, trying to be flippant. Logan lets out a single, solitary note of a chuckle from deep in his chest.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks for your concern, though.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and try to hide it by looking for Charles’ order again. It’s a single book, a first edition you had to go through the backwater book depositories to hunt down. You’re the best at what you do, though, so it was no real problem. It’s why he always comes to you.

“Here you go. Let him know I’ll try and find the sequel if he’s interested, too.”

“Sure.”

Once again your fingers touch as you hand the book to Logan. No. No, this is too quick! You want to keep him here for a little while longer. He looks so out of place between the wonky shelves and hanging plants, it’s just perfect.

Your mouth tries to say two things at once: can you tell Charles I’ll have his other order ready same time next week, and, do you like to read often? 

Instead what comes out is, “can you read?”

You must wince when you ask the question, because Logan stands there transfixed. Baffled, just for a second.

“Can I… read?” he repeats slowly. 

I’ve failed you, I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t stop your mouth in time, says your brain.

“I didn’t mean… of course you read… I just… I didn’t want to assume… maybe you didn’t like books… erm…”

“Yeah, I read,” he says softly, as if you are an old dog and he is putting you out of your misery. You fucking wish he would. Jesus Christ, it’s like you’ve never spoken to another person before.

You can’t find a way to recover this. Your cheeks are on fire. You’re going to explode and burn down your store. Oh authors, you are so sorry for using all these works as kindling.

You expect Logan to turn on his heel and walk out but he… doesn’t. Instead he takes a step back so that he can look at the shelf nearest to the desk. Runs his fingers across the spines before picking one. It’s slim, no more than the width of his finger; he puts it on the counter and fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

In the Miso Soup by Ryū Murakami. You ring him up, punching the price into your old cash register, give him his change. His palm is soft as you drop coins into it. 

“See you next week,” he says, stashing both his book and Charles’ inside his jacket. 

“Okay,” you say, amazed you’re able to get any words out, and watch him walk away again.

He does see you next week.

The sun’s out, so he’s sans jacket, and oh fuck you can see how his arms are like treetrunks. The way this man has you reacting is unhealthy. You try and focus on the hardback in your hands but all you can picture is those veins which are bulging on his biceps, begging you to come and get to know them better.

“You’re always reading huh?” 

His voice makes you jump a little, you’re not expecting him to be so close. You look up. He slides his sunglasses up into his hair. Fuck it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Would you trust a bookstore owner who didn’t read?” you ask, bristling with the need to defend this little shop and your place in it. He holds his hands up in the universal sign of peace.

“Not an insult, just an observation.”

You sink back from attack mode, walls still a little high, but definitely coming down.

“How did you get on with the Murakami last week?”

Logan takes a moment to consider this, trying to piece his answer together in a way which won’t offend you.

“I liked it until the last chapter.”

You sit up in your chair. 

“Yes! A lot of people say that. It feels like it ends sort of abruptly, but if you just appreciate it for what it is, it’s a good book.”

He smiles a little as you speak. You fucking love talking about books, to a degree some people find absurd. You don’t want to babble though, so you force yourself to end your observations there.

Logan nods at the book in your hands.

“What are you reading now?”

You lift up your book so he can see the cover: A. S. Byatt’s The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye. 

“It’s very good! Byatt has such a wonderful way of writing. I love fairy tales and there’s such a wonderful voice in this one. They made the titular story into a movie a couple of years back, it’s quite good actually, it has Tilda Swinton in it.” You’re floundering. Don’t stray too far from the normal lines of conversation. Mouth, for fuck’s sake stay on course, begs your brain. It doesn’t. Instead you ask, “do you… like Tilda Swinton?”

Logan raises an eyebrow and you know this is a man who has never once had to consider the question of whether or not he likes the actress Tilda Swinton. 

Mouth still talking. MOUTH STILL TALKING, your brain screams. It’s true. It is. You were too busy being horrified to notice.

What your mouth says while being unchaperoned is, “There’s a little single-screen theatre nearby doing a showing of it this week, actually, do you wanna come with?”

DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT. DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT?!

Logan doesn’t seem to know what to make of that. He seems just as shocked that you’ve asked as you are. But then, just as you want to cast yourself into the street so that a passing garbage truck might take pity on you and sweep you away, he smiles. It’s slow, but it makes him look so much hotter.

“Sure, why not.”

Oh mouth you genius. I shall never doubt you again.

“Oh, okay, great! Uhh, are you free Friday?”

“I can be. What time’s the screening?”

“Seven. Meet me here at six-thirty?”

“It’s a date.”

Fuck, it is a date, isn’t it. It’s a date!

Logan stands there, awaiting something. You’re confused for a beat, then go up on your tiptoes, aiming your mouth towards his.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture… Charles’ book, honey.”

Hmmm, okay. Still time for the earth to just swallow you whole then, actually.

You sort of don’t expect him to turn up. You wouldn’t go on a date with you, all awkward edges and uncomfortable words. And he’s… the coolest fucking guy you’ve ever seen. 

Of course he won’t turn up. Of course he won’t. 

He turns up. 

He’s waiting for you outside the store, leaning against a lamppost, dressed in flannel and smelling like subtle cologne. You can’t help lighting up when you see him and hope you’re dressed suitably - your nicest pair of dungarees and a tight-fitting jumper. 

“Hey! You made it,” you say. 

“‘Course I did,” he replies with a little smile. Oh, you’re giddy. 

“C’mon, it’s not a long walk. It’s a nice night too.”

He lets you chatter as the two of you make the brief journey, content to have you talk his ear off about business and books. He’s happy to answer any questions you ask him about himself: what he does for a living, how he knows Charles, if he’s got anything else on his to-read list. The two of you skirt around the most obvious thing: if he lives at the mansion, he’s definitely a mutant. You can’t quite get the courage to ask him about it. Seems easier to just let it lie, so you do. It’s not that important anyway, you think, you like Logan, with or without any extra bits. 

When you arrive at the little hole-in-the-wall cinema, he gets the tickets and the popcorn and the drinks. You do your best not to feel absolutely pathetic by his side. Surely everyone here knows you’re punching above your weight with this absolute grade A specimen of a man? You’re so busy looking around the foyer to make sure nobody is staring that you almost don’t realise when he takes your hand in his.

“You with me, honey?” he asks, soft, low. You swallow thickly and nod because for once, you can’t find the words.

It’s not a very full screening, which is just fine, because you’re happy to be alone with Logan in the dark. You share a bucket of popcorn and a secret little thrill runs up your spine every time your fingers brush together. When that’s finished, he puts his arm around the back of your chair and you snuggle up against his side, cursing the damn plastic cupholder in the middle forcing you to keep a distance. 

One hundred and eight minutes. They’re not enough. You want to be here forever. But eventually the credits roll, the lights come up, and Logan has to pull his arm back; you hope the reluctance in the withdrawal of the gesture isn’t just your imagination. 

“What did you think?” you ask, standing up and stretching. Logan follows suit, mulling over the question. 

“It was… cute,” he decides. “I can see why you like it.” 

You beam. 

“I can lend you the book if you want. It goes into way more detail about the main character’s life at the start, it’s very stream-of-consciousness but I really enjoy it? It’s different to the other stories before it but definitely worth reading. I think that…”

You’re outside now, under the streetlights, fingers tangled easily with his, and when he stills you’re pulled to a stop too. 

“Hmm?”

He drops his grip on your hand so that he can put one under your jaw, tilting your head to get a better look at you. Your heart beats violently. He can definitely feel it. He knows. You don’t care. Fuck, he’s so near. 

“You talk a lot, huh?” he asks. It’s not unkind, the smile on his face is one of fondness, and all of your skeleton turns to jelly as you fucking melt under the affection in his gaze. 

“Please shut me up,” your beg comes out as a whisper, and he does. 

His lips are rough against yours, guiding, but sweet. The hair on his face tickles your cheeks. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring him down to kiss him with more enthusiasm. This is not a public-appropriate display of affection, and someone honks their car horn at you both, but it just serves to make you laugh against his mouth and keep going. His hands slide onto your hips and hold you tight against him. Possessive. Wanting. Covetous. 

“You know,” he says when he pulls back for air, still running his lips along the line of your jaw to the hinge beneath your ear, “when Charles told me I should go and get those books, he said I’d like the person who runs the store. Didn’t expect you to be such a gorgeous little thing, though.”

You, gorgeous! Logan thinks you’re gorgeous! You could do a fucking cartwheel in celebration. You don’t though, you’d probably give yourself a concussion. 

His hand goes to his pocket and his brow furrows and, for a second, you panic. Has he started regretting kissing you already? Another quick kiss calms that down though, settling the simmer of worry in your stomach. 

“I think I left my wallet in the theatre. Hold on, I’ll grab it, then I’ll walk you home?”

“Only if you come in with me,” you breathe, and once again your mouth has taken the reins on that one. Logan huffs a laugh, a little incredulous, but mostly pleased at your gumption. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay.”

He leaves you standing there, feeling all tingly. This is happening. It’s fucking happening! Sometimes the stars align for a book nerd and a handsome guy wants to come up to their studio apartment. You thank Jesus, Buddha, Arthur C. Clarke - whoever is listening, they fucking deserve it. 

“You gonna fuck that mutant?”

The voice sends a chill down your throat. 

The trio of guys standing behind you do not look friendly. The biggest one, the one standing in the middle, sneers at your panic, crossing thick arms over a broad chest.

“Well? I asked you a question.”

You screw your courage to the sticking place, puffing up a little. 

“Don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you spit back, hoping that vitriol will deter them. It does not. Instead, they close in, hyenas around a cadaver. 

“Never had a human dick you down good enough, huh? Need a little help? C’mon baby, we’ll show you.”

He reaches out to grab your arm. You let out a noise of panic. 

At the same time, Logan’s fist collides with his face. 

The guy is sent stumbling back, spitting out a globule of blood. His friends step away with panic in their eyes. Logan moves in front of you, his bulk your shield, three metal claws extending from between his knuckles. 

Yeah. Mutant, huh?

“I think you were just leaving, pal,” says Logan in a voice which doesn’t bear messing with. The man bares his reddened teeth. 

“The fuck do you think you are, mutant scum--?!”

He lunges for Logan and the breath is sucked from your lungs when you see he’s pulling out a fucking knife, but another punch sends him flat on his ass. The blade clatters across the street and into the gutter. His friends grab either one of his arms and half stand him up, half drag him away.

“Shit, it’s not worth it—!” is their conclusion as they disappear into the night, shouting back expletives, blood trailing from their leader. Logan shakes out his fist, flexes his fingers; claws retract. He turns to you, slowly. 

“You okay?” he asks, hurriedly checking you over. You nod. 

“Y…yeah. Shaken.” you confess. 

“C'mon. Let’s get you home,” he sighs, and from the cadence of his voice you can tell he’s worried the night has been ruined. You place your hand on his bicep. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you still… will you still come up?”

He softens. 

“If it’ll make you feel safer, sweetheart.”

It does. 

And that’s how you find him sitting on your well-loved couch in between your needlepoint pillows, looking around your tiny home as you make a pot of coffee to share. 

“Jesus, you’ve got more books in here than in the store,” he mutters. 

“Well, some of them I couldn’t part with. I like them too much. And, as you pointed out, I am always reading.”

You look around at the shelves stuffed into your flat, the dozens of them holding hundreds of novels, plays, poems. You love them all dearly. They all hold a special piece of your heart, you can remember where you were when you read most of them. (Downstairs while manning the desk is often the answer). 

“Oh, even this?”

You can hear the smile in Logan’s voice. He’s holding up a copy of Fifty Shades. You scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“Christ, I read that as a professional courtesy to the art of bookselling. Got it for fifty cents at a thrift store. It’s crap. If you want some good erotica I can recommend…”

The sentence lingers unfinished. Logan raises his eyebrows. 

“You can recommend what, huh?”

The coffee is ready. You can smell its rich scent enveloping your little apartment. An idea forms. Creates a heavy anticipation on your tongue. Your brain screams at you. 

Locked. Loaded. Fire, mouth, fire!

“… then I’d recommend you take me to bed,” you say.

Logan stares, eyes wide. You’ve had an immediate effect on him. His pupils dilate. 

“I… honey, after earlier, I’m not sure if you should…”

You cross the room and sit on his lap, an easy feat when his legs are so thick and inviting. His sentence stops as you press your mouth to the pulse in his neck. Kiss. 

“I’m a consenting adult,” a kiss on his cheek, “who’s invited you into their home,” a kiss on his brow, “and is asking you to take them across their painfully tiny apartment and fuck them. If you don’t want to, that’s okay, but Logan? I’ve been game ever since you first walked in from the rain.”

He looks up at you to double check that you’re telling the truth, then kisses you with such ferocity that you squeak. 

You do not make it to the bed. 

He undresses you there on the sofa in the middle of your bookshelves, between Brontë and Austen, beside Carter and Rushdie. Your clothes end up in a messy little pile on the coffee table. It gets kicked and the pile of literary magazines slide to the floor as Logan moves to take off his shoes, letting you drag his jeans down and off of him, cupping his cock in his boxers.

Fuck. Thick, heavy, large, you want all of it. All of him. 

He leans you back against your kitschy little pillows with book quotes on them and pulls your dungarees off, an act both ridiculous and endearing. He catches your knee in his hand and begins to kiss up your thigh towards your underwear.

“Fuck,” you whisper as he presses a kiss to your sex over the fabric. He grins up at you from between your legs. 

“That was the plan.”

He fucks you with his mouth like a man starved, luxuriating in the little sounds you make for him, pressing fingers inside you without any effort at all. You cum all over his knuckles embarrassingly quickly. He looks sorta smug. 

“Baby, when was the last time someone took care of you…?” he asks, licking a stripe along your sex to taste what he’s done. You huff. 

“Too long. You gonna fix that?”

It’s a challenge and he takes it as one. You strip off his shirt, making sure to get a good feel of his muscles as you go, kissing his pectorals and abs just because you can. He slides inside you with one thrust, one of your legs in a crook at his hip; the other with its ankle resting on his shoulder. He starts moving and the couch shakes but all you can do is cling on for dear life to the crocheted blanket. 

“Holy shit… so fuckin’ tight… aren’t you just the most gorgeous thing…” he hisses. You reach up enough to tangle your fingers in his hair and drag him down for a kiss, sloppy and charged with heat. His hand moves in between your legs and you cum for the second time that night, hissing with satisfaction as he spills inside you. 

You collapse onto the sofa together, your heavy breaths harmonising. When he pulls back to kiss you this time it’s softer. With intention. With reference. 

“Uh, you know, they’re showing To Kill a Mockingbird next week. Maybe dinner beforehand, if you’re interested?”

He laughs affectionately and you can feel the rumble in his chest.

“Sounds good. You’ll have to lend me the book first.”

Fuck yeah. You’re never doubting your mouth again. 

Taglist: @falsewordz@malfoys-demigod@belilwen@mildly-salted@tvwebs@childeslegstrap@getmeoutofhell@s1eep-o@just-a-beatlemaniac69@yrthr@momopad@sugarplumz100@captainjinkx@madspads@acrosstheunivcrse@yeethaw13@na-is-salty@florduarte@hunterispunk@starfleetteddybear

[planetaryupscaled]

Better Girlfriend

Male Reader x Kim Jiwoo (Chuu)

Tags: 4k, cheating, oral, threesome

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“For god’s sake Jiwoo, why don’t you just fuck him already!”

That was Jiwoo boyfriend and manager, Dohyun, we had been friends for several years now. We met while I was an intern at Blockberry Creative, but now I work for Modhaus while he works for ATRP. To cut to the chase, I’d always felt a little jealous of him. In many ways, but especially because he was dating Jiwoo. Heck, most of our friends are.

The majority of our friends were regular people, and we preferred to host house parties. It was simply too costly for us to go out every weekend. With the exception of Dohyun who had spent less time with us and more time with Jiwoo who preferred to go out. Until recently, Jiwoo was trying to be a ‘better girlfriend’ and was now hanging out more with us.

Jiwoo is a dorky, playful, and kind person who fits right in with the group. However, as time went on, Dohyun told me he began to suspect that what Jiwoo really enjoyed was having all of the other guys drool over her. While the other girls were also attractive, there was no denying that Jiwoo was one the hottest as she gradually began to dress sexier for each party, especially for tonight.

Tonight, me and my roommate Jiseok were hosting the party. It had been going on for about two hours. Aside from Dohyun, Jiseok, and myself, there were seven of our guy friends, three of their girlfriends, and, of course, Jiwoo.

Jiwoo wore a tight white crop top that revealed her toned midriff and the exact outline of her perky breast, paired with tight short shorts that showed her smooth thighs, making it clear that she was dressed to show off her body. Weeks ago, Dohyun liked the idea of showing off his hot girlfriend, but tonight, after a couple rounds of beer, he changed his mind, not too keen about the idea.

In the kitchen, our friend Minsoo, a constant flirt with Jiwoo while Dohyun was keeping a drunken eye on them from across the room. Minsoo said something that made Jiwoo crack up, and when she put her hand on Minsoo’s arm while laughing, and just like that, Dohyun snapped.

—

“For god’s sake Jiwoo, why don’t you just fuck him already!” Dohyun drunkenly yelled from across the room and the apartment fell in stunned silence.

“What?” Jiwoo questioned.

“Bro, what are you talking about?” Minsoo asked.

“Shut the fuck up!” Dohyun yelled as he stormed across the room. “Don’t act like you haven’t been flirting with my girlfriend whenever you think I’m not looking.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You know the deal, bros before hoes” Minsoo respond.

“Oh so now my girlfriend is a whore?”

“Dohyun you know that not what he…” Jiwoo started before being interrupted.

“And you…” Dohyun said as he turned and pointed at Jiwoo. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been dressing around my friends the last few weeks. I know what’s going on.”

“Alright come with me.” Jiwoo said, dragging Dohyun by the arm back into one bedroom. The door slammed shut, and we could all hear the two of them shouting back and forth. This lasted for a few minutes, But to all of us out in the living room and kitchen, it felt more like half an hour. When we heard the door open, it was Dohyun who came out, just as angry as when he entered the bedroom.

“Try to remember to wear some condoms when you all run a train on her later” Dohyun yelled out before leaving the apartment. We all stood in silence looking at one another for a minute, when finally, Jiseok broke the silence.

“Wait, he’s not driving, is he?” Jiseok asked. Once again, we all found ourselves looking at each other before Jiseok jogging out the door, trying to catch Dohyun before he got into his car. As he walked out the door, Jiwoo came walking back into the room.

“Jiwoo, you alright?” I asked.

“Yeah I’m fine” Jiwoo said and she actually did sound perfectly fine. “I just hope that Dohyun’s diva moment didn’t ruin the party for everyone.”

Jiseok came back to the apartment a few minutes later, saying that he was too late and Dohyun had already left. It took some time, but eventually the party did get going again. I kept an eye on Jiwoo all night, and she generally acted as if nothing had happened. She continued to joke with people and dance to the music, but I noticed she was always holding a cup.

At one point, I noticed her sitting alone on a step stool, legs splayed out in front of her. I walked over to her and squatted down.

“Hey Jiwoo, how you doing?”

“I’m good.”

“You sure you feeling, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m feeling really gooood.” She said lifting one of her legs and tapped her boot against my crotch. I wasn’t sure if she meant to do that or not, but I assumed she was just drunk and didn’t think about it. Standing up I went back to the rest of the people in the living room and Jiwoo soon rejoined us as well.

At around 2 a.m., when the party began to wind down. As people began to order cabs and head home, I went into my bedroom and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. At that point, I remembered Jiwoo said she left her phone in Dohyun’s car, so I decided to check to see if she needed a ride home. I left my room and called her name but received no response, so I went to check the apartment. The shared bathroom was empty, the door to Jiseok’s room was half open, and he was asleep alone on the bed; in the kitchen, our friend Mingyu was passed out sitting at the kitchen table; and finally, I checked the living room.

When I looked inside, I got the shock of my life. Minsoo was seated on the far side of the couch while Jiwoo was on all fours, giving him a blowjob.

“Oh god Jiwoo, I’ve been dreaming about this for so long” Minsoo said, with his pants around his ankles and a hand on Jiwoo head, moaned as his head leaned back, He was clearly enjoying the feeling of Jiwoo’s lips going up and down his cock.

“Holy shit” I said reflexively. Both of them immediately looked my way when they heard me. Jiwoo looking fairly surprised and embarrassed while Minsoo had the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

“Sorry, I was just checking to see if Jiwoo needed a ride home.”

“No, I’m fine. Though if you stick around, I might give you a ride” Jiwoo said flirtatiously.

99 times out of 100 there is no way I would mess around with my friend’s girlfriend, but I figured this might be my only shot with Jiwoo. Plus, she was already blowing off another of our friends, so what’s the difference, right?

“So what ever happened to ‘Bros before Hoes’, Minsoo?” I asked as I approached the couch.

“That rule only applies to girls that 8s or lower, and... fuck she really good at this.” Minsoo, who was clearly very drunk, lost his thought as Jiwoo returned to sucking his cock.

“…and also, celebrities are excluded from the rule if you’re a non-celebrity.” He added, but I’m pretty sure he just made that up. I also think most guys would probably agree to those terms.

Jiwoo went right back to sucking Minsoo’s - Meanwhile, I moved to the other side of the couch, positioning myself behind her. Reaching around her waist, I unsnapped her shorts and pulled them down to her knees, revealing a black lace thong firmly entrenched between her cheeks. Then peeling down her thong. It revealed two moist, perfectly smooth pussy lips between her legs. I still could not believe that this was happening. I slid my hand between her legs, rubbing her wet claim. Slipping a finger between her lips, her legs kicked up slightly, and she let out a muffled moan around our friend’s cock.

“Mmmfff…gluck…gluck…mmffaahh…”

Jiwoo’s pussy felt tight and hot around my fingertip. Pulling it out, I stuck my finger in my mouth to taste her juices. After cleaning my finger, I headed straight for the source. I bent down, stuck my head between her legs, and started lapping up her pussy.

“Nnhhh god, yes! Use that tongue…” Jiwoo called out as I ate her pussy. Jiwoo went to put Minsoo back into her mouth, but he stopped her.

“No, no. I’m close, and I’m saving it for that pussy.” he said.

Pulling my head out from the between Jiwoo thighs, “You’ll have to wait, I’m not stopping until I make her pop,” I told him.

“Sounds good to me” Jiwoo said. I then grabbed one of her legs and flipped her over onto her back. Pulling her shorts and thong all the way down, I split her legs wide open and dove down between them. “Oh wow!” Jiwoo giggled. “Oh Tae, you really know how to use your tongue.” Jiwoo cupped her own breast through her top while her other hand was on the back of my head to keep me in place between her legs. I enjoyed sucking the tangy nectar from her cunt, but I moved my mouth up and began sucking on her clit while finger fucked her. This drove Jiwoo insane, and she clamped her legs around my neck.

“Ahnn yes! yes! YESnghh!” Jiwoo was getting closer and closer to climaxing. Jiwoo gripped the couch tightly and pressed her hips hard against my face. “Uggghhhh yes, yes, fucknnh!” Jiwoo yelled as she squirted a generous amount of her love juice all over my face.

“All right my turn.” Minsoo announced before Jiwoo could catch her breath. He got up from the arm of the couch, desperate for a chance to fuck the girlfriend. Jiwoo offered little resistance as he flipped her around and got her on all fours so he could fuck her doggy style. Jiwoo and I were looking at each other face to face, with her on all fours and me sitting back up.

Once again, I felt as though I was not in control of my own movement as I took Jiwoo by the back of her head and drew her in for a passionate kiss. I had been wanting to do this for a long time. Jiwoo was just as into the kiss as I was, slipping her tongue into my mouth. She let out a squeal into my mouth as Minsoo buried his cock inside her cunt.

“Fuck, bro! Her pussy is amazing!” Minsoo said as he began fucking her. Breaking off the kiss Jiwoo looked me in the eye moaning softly as he fucked her from behind.

“Lose the pants” Jiwoo ordered. I quickly stood up, took off my shirt, and kicked off my sweatpants before sitting back down. “Oh Tae” Jiwoo said as her eyes beamed in surprise. She took hold of the base of my cock. “You’ve been holding out on me” she said as she slapped my cock against her cheek.

“What about me?” Minsoo asked as he slapped her ass, “How does this dick feel?”

“So good…” Jiwoo moaned.

“Damn right. Fuck. I’ve been dreaming about this moment since Dohyun introduced you.”

While that was going on, I positioned myself so that I had one foot on the ground, one knee on the couch, and my throbbing erection staring the Vocalist in the face. With Jiwoo being pounded from behind, she opened her mouth as she moaned, I shoved my dick in and began fucking her face, which she happily allowed.

If I had to think about it, I might have felt mixed feeling about what was happening. On the one hand, my first threesome is with my buddy, and my other friend’s girlfriend makes me look like a total asshole, but on the other hand, spit roasting the tight idol is probably one of the highlights of my life.

After a minute or two, Minsoo and I found a rhythm, basically sawing the beautiful idol while plugging two of her holes. When he pulls back from her cunt, my cock slides down her throat, and when I pull back, he pounds back into her. We carried on like this until Jiwoo fully pulled me out of her mouth so that she could lick her tongue around my length before sliding down to lick the base of my shaft. The whole thing felt fantastic, and it would have been perfect if Minsoo had just shut his mouth.

“Come on Jiwoo Tell me I’m better than Dohyun. Tell me I fuck you better than he does.” I don’t know if this was Minsoo just trying to talk dirty or if the booze in his system was unleashing some deep seeded resentment toward Dohyun, but either way he was obsessed with being told he was better. “Come on Jiwoo, I’ve heard him fuck in his dressing room. I know Dohyun is a quick draw. Tell me how much better I am than that jackass!” At this point Minsoo was hammering her pussy with everything he had.

Jiwoo also seemed to have become annoyed with Minsoo. “Fine! You’re better, happy?” Jiwoo dropped my balls from her mouth and turned her head around to say. “You fuck me better than Dohyun does.” she told him. Then in a real sultry voice she said “And Dohyun cums even faster when I let him fuck my tight little ass.”

“Wha… I...” Minsoo absolutely froze after Jiwoo said that. For a second, I thought he had a stroke, but apparently the thought of drilling her in the ass was way too much for him as he then pulled out and erupted all over Jiwoo’ ass and back. Minsoo collapsed and passed out in a drunken haze after covering her ass and lower back with his load. With his now gone, Jiwoo returned to me.

“I knew he would love that,” she said.

“Do you really do anal?”

“Maybe…” Jiwoo said with a seductive smile. “Now it’s time to take care of you.” She began to sit up, but I stopped her.

“Finish what you started. I want to cum in your pretty mouth.”

“Are you sure? Will you be able to fuck me afterward?”

“Trust me, after tonight, I don’t think I’ll be able to be around you without being hard.” Jiwoo grabbed my head and pulled me in for another passionate kiss.

“By the way, your dick is much thicker than either of your friends. I love how it stretches out my mouth” Jiwoo said as she went down to the floor between my legs before taking me back in her mouth. Now with her full attention focused on me, she was able to show off all of her blow jobs skills. I couldn’t help but moan as she deep throated me to the best of her ability keeping her gaze fixed on mine.

“You are really good at this” I told her as she ran her lips up the side of my saliva-coated shaft.

“We Idols like to compare notes and share tips while on set” Jiwoo explained before attacking my cock with her mouth once more. After another minutes of deep throating, she had me ready to burst.

“Gonna cum…” Despite the warning, Jiwoo did not slow down at all. I started firing my load into the back of her throat, and she swallowed as I filled her mouth. When I was finished, Jiwoo gave me a couple of hard sucks to ensure she had fully emptied my load. She then released my cock with a loud pop and opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue to demonstrate that she had swallowed my entire load.

Like I promised, my dick was still rock hard after cumming into her mouth. Jiwoo then stood up and stripped off her top, exposing her small, perky breast. She now gave me a 360-degree turn before striking a pose as she stood in front of me, showing off her body dressed only in black boots.

“Tell me, have you ever masturbated thinking about me?”

“Yes,” I confessed, “multiple times.”

“Well, I hope I live up to your fantasies.” Jiwoo spun around and took hold of my dick, ensuring it was pointing straight up as she sat down on my lap. She ran my crown along her wanting lips before finding the right angle and sinking down. Though I’m girthier than my friend, the freshly fucked Jiwoo had little difficulty taking me into her tight, wet pussy.

“Ughhh you feel even better than I imagined” Jiwoo moaned as she bottomed out on my dick.

“You’ve thought about this before?”

“Umhhmmm…” Jiwoo began working my cock with her pussy “You’re cute, you’re nice, and remember a couple of weeks ago when Dohyun was a total ass, he got so drunk that you had to carry him to bed and then drive me home?”

“Yeah?”

“That night, I was so horny that I spent over an hour with my toy thinking about you.” Jiwoo was starting to bounce on my cock reverse cowgirl style, and I could feel her hand rubbing against her clit as I thrust in and out of her. Hearing that Jiwoo had masturbated thinking about me was mind blowing. I grabbed her by the hips and began slamming her down on my cock. “Yes, yes, pound my pussy! Nghhh I’m gonna cum…!”

“Spin around; I want to see your face when you cum on my dick,” I told her and she reacted immediately. Jumping up off my dick, Jiwoo spun around and pounced onto the couch. She quickly slammed her hips back down on my lap and fucked me hard. I watched Jiwoo face contort in pleasure as she rode me until her pussy clamped down on my cock, her body seized, and she let out a silent scream while cumming.

“Ughhh...Tae that was good” Jiwoo said as she came down from her high.

“We’re not done yet.” I told her as grabbed her hips and continued to thrust in and out of her.

“Yes! nghhh, next time me and Dohyun get in a fight instead of calling my friends, I think I’ll just come here and take my frustrations out on your dick again.” Jiwoo said between breaths as I continued to pound her.

“If it means we can do this again, I’ll come to you and fuck you in front of Dohyun. I don’t care.” Jiwoo once again kissed me passionately after I told her this. The two of us made out while we grinding our crotches together. Cupping her perky tits as I teased her nipples.

Jiwoo pushed me hard up against the back of the couch. “Sit back and let me milk your thick dick for everything you got.” Jiwoo once again started working her hips up and down my meat as fast as she could, and I could feel her try to flex her pussy muscles around my dick as she rode me.

“Oh god Jiwoo, I’m going to cum soon” I warned her as she continued to bounce wildly on my cock.

“Me too.” Said a male voice that caught both of me and Jiwoo by surprise. We both froze and looked to the kitchen and saw Mingyu standing in the doorway stroking his dick. Jiwoo looked back at me and then gave me a smile before turning back towards Mingyu.

“Like what you see?” Jiwoo asked seductively.

“Uh huh. You’re so much hotter than I thought.” Mingyu drunkenly slurred as he continued to stroke himself.

“Then come here...” She told him. I let off a disappointed groan as Jiwoo dismounted off my cock. Mingyu staggered forward as Jiwoo grabbed my hand indicating she wanted me to stand up and follow her. The three of us all came together in the middle of the living room. Jiwoo then took hold of both dicks before sinking down to her knees. Looking up at me she gave the head of my dick a kiss, then she turned towards Mingyu and did the same.

As she began stroking me, she stuck out her tongue and began liking the dip of Mingyu’s cock. She kept her eyes looking up the whole time as she took him into her mouth and began sucking his cock. She continued like this, stroking me and sucking him, for about a minute and then she switched it. I looked down into her brown eye as she sucked my cock for about a minute or two before switch back. I don’t know for a fact that this wasn’t the first time that Jiwoo had blown two guys at the same time, but she seemed to have full control of the situation and seemed to know full well what she was doing switching back and forth between our cocks.

“Oh yeah, that’s it. That’s it” Mingyu said, leaning back as Jiwoo sucked his dick hard. It was obvious he was about to cum though, Mingyu, being as drunk as he was lost his balance and stumbled two steps backwards, pulling his dick out of her mouth. However, with his dick still in her hand and it aimed at her face, he blasted his load directly onto Jiwoo’ face.

“Jiwoo, turn to me, close your eyes, and smile” I demanded. Jiwoo quickly did as I said. Seeing here there with a big smile with streaks of cum across her face pushed me over the edge. She stroked my dick as I came hard. Jiwoo giggled as my cum splashed against her face.

—

Next thing I know, I'm waking up with a delightful sigh as the sun shines through the window. I don't remember how I got to my room last night, but I recall having a really vivid dream about having sex with my friend's girlfriend. As my hangover grogginess faded away I realized that it wasn’t a vivid dream I was still experiencing, but rather there were a real set of lips sucking on my morning wood. Moving the pillows behind me, I sat up, and I could see that someone was hiding under my comforter. Whipping the comforter off the bed revealed a nude Jiwoo. She was resting on her knees and elbows between my legs with my hard cock in her mouth and her ass sticking up in the air. I can only imagine the dumbstruck look on my face as I looked down at Jiwoo and she looked up at me. I could also see a small smile come across her lips and she gave me a wink as she continued to blow me.

The memory of what I thought had been a dream just a few minutes ago, flooded back into my mind. While I still had no recollection of how we made it to my bedroom, but I did remember walking in on her and my friend in the living room, spit roasting in a devil’s three-way, and having the former Disney actress rid me on the couch. With Jiwoo now using her tongue to play with my cock head in her mouth, I could not hold back much longer. I put my hand on the back of her head and pushed her head down my cock.

“Time for breakfast” I said before unleashing my load down her throat. Jiwoo actually choked up a bit halfway through me emptying my balls causing some cum to leak out of her mouth.

“Holy crap Jiwoo, I can’t believe that actually happened” I said after I finally came down from my high from cumming.

“I need a ride home and you were not waking up so” Jiwoo casually shrugged her shoulders while sitting up, giving me a great daylight view of her breasts. “Plus your boner was pressing into my ass most of the night, so I thought a morning blowy would do the trick.”

“Yeah but what about Dohyun? I mean I know what happened last night happened because you were drunk...”

“What?” Jiwoo interrupted me, “I wasn’t drunk last night.”

“But I saw you. You were drinking all night.” I was extremely confused.

“Hmm, but I was just drinking juice. I had a photoshoot later today and didn't want to get drunk and be all bloated and groggy.” She then wiped some cum from the corner of her mouth and sucked her finger clean.

“So, can you give me a ride home? If you get me home with enough time before I need to leave, I’ll let you shower with me...”

“All right, let’s go...”

[mv1simp]

Into It ♥️ Part 2 of 3

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

and she don’t really like it (but she needs me, yeah)

the one in which you’re newly dating your gorgeous boyfriend, max verstappen, after months of pining and flirting. he’s the perfect gentleman, so romantic and treats you just right! now how do you tell him that you’re desperate for mad max to come out and rail ur insides without sounding like a freak 😚

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom/sub, size kink, Charles used as a plot device to make Max jealous soz, orgasm denial, classic kinky shit, 4k WC

PART ONE HERE ♥️ PART THREE HERE ♥️

That’s how you found yourself on a girls’ night out in Monaco’s new hottest club, downing three shots in a row. Woah, woah girl!! your best girlfriend exclaimed, what’s the occasion? You huffed and avoided eye contact, prompting her to lean in conspiratorially, trouble in paradise with your boy Maxie? This time you glare at her in response and she grins in satisfaction, knowing she's caught you.

A few more shots later and you were drunkenly rambling about your tales of sexual frustration to her, about all the attempts at seducing your boyfriend, all the unfulfilled fantasies. She laughs, so you’re saying you’re upset your boyfriend acts too sweet to you to be rough with you in the bedroom? You nodded glumly, squishing your face against the bar countertop. I’m the worst girlfriend ever. I don’t deserve an angel like max!

Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at your melodrama. Girl, no. We all need to get dicked down hard. You need to be straight up with him. Besides - she smirked - he’s the most chaotic driver on the grid. I’m sure he can provide everything you want and much, much more.

Squinting, you tried to make sense of her words through your drunken thoughts. Logically you knew she was right - you should just tell Max honestly what you desired so badly - but even imagining how he might react when he obviously considered you to be his sweet, innocent girlfriend made you feel too embarrassed, even now. More drinks, you declared promptly. Your girlfriend shrugged, handing you another shot. Cheers to that!

An hour later you found yourself on the dance floor, having the time of your life. Twisting and grinding the night away, initially with your friends but at some point you stumble across Charles and Lando, who had joined your group at the club. Giggling, you threw your arms right around Cha, who you had known from living in Monaco the last few years. Chaaa!!! It’s so good to see you!! You’ve had such a fantastic year in Ferrari, I’m so proud of you-

Charles chuckled good naturedly at your drunk ramblings, wrapping an arm around you to steady you. He made eye contact with Lando, gesturing to his phone, to which the other boy mouthed already on it - having texted Max to come pick up his normally very responsible, well behaved girlfriend who had hilariously gotten far too wasted. Charles guides you away to get you a drink - water, sorry mon cherrie - he sweetly apologises as he takes the beer can you had grabbed instead and replaced it with a clear bottle. You pouted, struggling to stand up straight, and leaned right into him, arms around his shoulders, letting him feel all of you. And he definitely could, given your choice of outfit tonight - a silky long sleeved minidress hugging your body perfectly, with a low cut sweetheart neckline giving the taller man a perfect view of your cleavage. Charles’ eyes widened in surprise - in all his years of knowing you, you had never acted like this before. He reached for your waist again to steady you as you start to lean to one side again.

Unfortunately, this was exactly the picture Max found you two in.

Before Charles could even put a finger on you, a strong arm wraps around your waist from behind, yanking you backwards against a firm chest. You stumbled, confused, and tipped your head up only to come face to face with your boyfriend. Except even in your drunk daze, you could tell your boyfriend looked absolutely furious. You vaguely hear him snarl something aggressively towards Cha - Keep your fucking greedy hands off her - To which the monegasque driver innocently raised his hands in defence, attempting to explain, but Max doesn’t give him a chance as he leans down and tosses you over his shoulder, making you yell out in surprise. Maxie, you gasped as he quickly navigated you out of the club towards his Aston Martin Valkyrie, his fast pace making you dizzy - Maxie, slow down, I didn’t say bye to Cha-

A hard smack on your ass cuts you off, making you squeal and eyes boggle at the unexpected rough treatment. Max had never, ever used his force on you like that. Oh, we’re way past the point of that, Princess. I’m taking you straight home, Max growls as he drops you into the passenger seat, jaw clenched as he clicked your seatbelt in. He tossed a bottle of water in your lap as he started the car and speeds off. You gulp it down greedily, desperately trying to sober up a bit and process where on earth this behaviour from your usually sweet boyfriend had come from.

By the time he parked in his garage, you had started to think a bit clearer and felt nervousness build up, realising you’ve started your first real fight as a couple. Maxie- You try again as you entered the elevator up his penthouse together, Maxie, I’m sorry, I got too drunk- But your boyfriend didn’t even meet your gaze, still staring ahead furiously as you stumbled after him through the front door. You called out again as he stalked off, reaching a hand out to grab his t-shirt and pleading for him to tell you why he was so mad, you had said you were sorry, you just had a bit too much to drink - and he whirled around, letting the full impact of his anger implode onto you.

Why am I so angry? Are you seriously fucking asking me that right now? Max spat, stalking towards you and making you back up against the kitchen wall, doe eyed. What do you think? What would you do if your girlfriend leaves in the middle of the night and you find her fucking dry humping your mate in the middle of a club for all of Monaco to see? Huh? Your eyes had gotten wider with each sentence Max had yelled at you, inching back further and further until you were trapped with the hard kitchen wall to your back, Max’s arms caging you against it as he glared down at you. Maxie, you say guiltily, taking a deep breath to focus on de-escalating the fight instead of the freakish butterflies you felt in your belly seeing his harsh intensity directly focused on you for once. I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have done it and it genuinely didn’t mean, I only want you-

The tall blonde scoffs, rolling his eyes and making it clear he didn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth. Oh, don’t give me that bullshit now, Schat he sneered, his usual favourite nickname for you now said with a bitterly sarcastic tone, making you half excited at the cruel change in his attitude and half panicked because you had never expected he would get this angry at you. You’ve been acting weird for the past month, half the time I swear you’re trying on purpose to delete my sim racing data, and then leaving your laundry all over the apartment when you get mad at me for not putting a single pair of socks away, and now tonight with Charles? Why did you have to act so pathetic and put yourself all over him?

You take a sharp breath in as Max’s words hit you right in the heart. He’s still glaring down at you, arms caging you in and making it clear he demanded an answer from you. His words had shocked you - all your efforts, all the attempts at trying to turn him on had apparently gone completely unnoticed? And instead he just thought of you as pathetic? You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore, your deepest insecurities now coming out given your already oversensitive emotional state after getting so drunk tonight.

Why? WHY? you scream up at Max, unable to control the hot tears that fill your eyes in response to his words. Max flinches reflexively, not expecting you to become so upset, and you shove him away with your full strength. You barely manage to push him back a couple centimetres as he concedes, but that was all you needed to slip under his arms and away from his intense gaze, not wanting him to see the fresh tears that had started dripping down your cheeks now, the tequila in your system amplifying your emotions. Wiping them off, you spin back around and resume your yelling - Well maybe because I wanted to actually make you mad for once, Max! Maybe because I actually wanted you to treat me with the passion and intensity you treat everything else around you, and yes, maybe it was a stupid way to get your attention tonight, but I thought making you jealous would finally make you lose control and just fuck me hard for once!

Max’s startled look is almost priceless, his baby blue eyes going wide like a deer in headlights as the argument takes a complete 180 from where it had been earlier. But you don’t stop there -

So I’m sorry I made myself look like the pathetic girlfriend of the golden boy, Max Verstappen. I just didn’t know what to do! I tried to get dressed up for you in my nicest lingerie, or make you mad at me so that you had an excuse to punish me however you wanted. But apparently it just wasn’t enough because you never noticed and still treat me like I’m some little precious doll that might break, like I can’t handle seeing you when you’re mad or upset or aggressive. So I guess I am pathetic, so desperate to try so hard to seduce you because I just wanted you to be yourself when you obviously just don’t think I’m hot enough to make you desire me in that way -

Woah, woah woah - okay, this deprecating self talk had gone on way too long for his liking, Max thought, as he closed his mouth that had dropped open in surprise as you finally released the tension and secrets he could tell you had been building up. Schatje, he murmured, approaching you gently, all his earlier anger crumbling away as he wipes your tears.

His strong hands grasped your waist and easily lifted you onto the marble top counter behind you, the twinkling Monaco city lights streaming in through the glass panels behind you. You sniffle, still refusing to meet his eyes, so embarrassed that all your feelings had rapidly come out of you like that. Max lovingly tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. For such a smart and accomplished woman, you can be so incredibly stupid sometimes He starts, quickly continuing when he sees the indignation on your face -

So stupid because I can’t believe you think there is any version of me that doesn’t think you’re the most fucking beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, the only woman who has me wrapped around her pretty little finger. You know I would give you the world, schat, all you have to do is ask me for what you want.

I know, you say, sighing miserably, I know you’ll give me anything I want, you treat me so well, Maxie, and I’ve been the one who’s been having all these dirty thoughts every time I see you shirtless or driving on the track.

Max chuckles, his eyes shining brightly and cheeks flushed from your confession about how crazy he makes you feel. You’ve been holding back on me, liefje he teases, gently rubbing his thumbs across your dusty pink cheeks. Tell me, what naughty ideas has my girl been hiding from me? What’s driving you so wild about seeing me drive?

Your cheeks darken as you struggle to come up with a half coherent response despite your weeks of fantasising. I - um, well, sometimes - sometimes, when a race is going bad and you’re getting really angry on the radio and racing so aggressively against the others, it just really, uh, turns me on? you mumble, eyes purposely looking at his toned chest to avoid eye contact. And it makes me think about what it would feel like to have all that power up against me instead, to help you relax by releasing all your energy out on me instead of holding it in…as you trail off you hesitantly look back up, certain that you had freaked your boyfriend out by your inner thoughts. Instead, you find Max’s ice blue eyes locked intently onto yours, swirling with that stormy darkness you had caught glimpses of before.

Schatje, Max says, his voice low as he steps closer into your space, your soft thighs parting to accomodate his large frame. Are you telling me you’ve been wondering if I can fuck you the way that I like to drive? Aggressive and completely in control? You feel your cheeks flush again at his direct question, and you nod in response to his question, squeaking out a nervous yes.

Max’s eyes darken, lips quirking into a smug smirk you had seen many times on post race interviews and podiums but rarely within your home. He jerks you forward with one arm, pressing your soft tits up against his own firm chest, your legs instinctively tightening around his hips as he stands directly in front of you. So, Schat, you like it when I’m getting angry at you, huh? It all makes so much sense now. The way that you’re always biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together everytime I’m arguing in the garage. You look so innocent, but you’re actually just a dirty little girl, huh? acting like the sweetest WAG on the grid - but you’re just a desperate cocktease, aren’t you?

You let out a breathless gasp at the new sense of superiority in Max’s words, a condescending smirk still on his lips. Your ego rises up hotly and you shake your head in defence, Nuh uh, Maxie, that’s not, I’m not-

He cuts you off by suddenly dropping his hands from your waist and instead curling them around your chubby soft thighs, forming a tight grip easily with his large fingers. Doesn’t matter what you say, baby. The proof is right here. He flips your minidress up, exposing the cute white lacey thong underneath, his ring finger easily hooking around thin material and pulling it to one side. There’s no hiding the sheer wetness coating your cute pink pussy, so much so that there’s strands of it connecting to the thong as Max pulled it back. Bingo, he chuckles darkly. You’re squealing at the gesture as your intimate parts go on full display for him, trying desperately to close your legs with your full strength but Max’s bruising grip on your thighs is unrelenting for once. He laughs at the sight, angling his long fingers forward to teasingly flick against the entrance to your core. Your needy little pussy is already dripping for me, huh schat? It got so wet seeing me get all angry and jealous, didn’t it? Did you get even wetter when I yelled at Charles for touching you? Or maybe it was when I had to smack that fat ass of yours to shut your whining up?

Your eyes go wide as you look up at him in shock, hearing filthy words you never thought you would hear from your sweet Maxie. Your head is starting to spin from his deep voice as he continues his teasing with a cocky look. Oh, liefje. I’m going to fuck you so hard tonight you won’t even be able to remember your own name. You’re going to tell me every single dirty fantasy you’ve had, and you’re not going to stop until I’m completely satisfied with you.

Before you can even reply, Max is lifting you up off the counter and into his arms, navigating you both easily to the large plush sofa facing his penthouse balcony and sitting down comfortably. He pulls you on top of him, bringing your still clothed core to rest directly on top of his muscled thighs. You find yourself face to face with his chest even in this position, having to tilt your head up to look at the much taller Dutchman. He grins smugly, the very picture of a Chesire cat as he looks back at you, large palm resting securely on your plump ass.

So, mein liefje? You going to tell me what you’ve been plotting up? Beg me to fill you up and treat you like the little slut you’ve secretly always been? he demands. You bristle at his arrogant tone, not replying to him after you had already made so many embarrassing confessions. But you can’t deny the wetness that keeps dripping from your core, making a mess all over his pants. Your boyfriend notices your stubborn efforts to keep yourself composed and smirks. That’s how you want to play it, love? He croons at you. That’s ok. I can play this game with you. All. Night. Long. It’s my turn to tease you after all the fun you’ve had prancing around in your tiny slutty outfits, rubbing your ass up on me in the middle of the night and driving me crazy having to hold myself back since you couldn’t be a good girl and just beg for it.

And with that he tenses his thighs up into you, bouncing his leg, making you moan suddenly from the blissful stimulation. He speeds up his pace and you find yourself grinding down onto him, eyes fluttering shut as the feeling your pleasure start to build up -

And come crashing down when Max abruptly stills, startling you into grabbing onto his biceps to steady yourself as you almost topple over. Your - loving, adorable, currently irritiating - boyfriend flashes a cheeky smile at you. Max, you whine, but he continues to look at you expectantly and you huff, caving in and gathering the confidence you had left over from your earlier shots.

Your eyes trail down to his chest, one very common thought of yours immediately springing to mind. I guess I really like how you’re so much bigger than me, you murmur, blush starting to return to your cheeks. You’re so big and sooo strong, always lifting the heaviest things easily and I think a lot about how good it would feel to have your big hands on me, holding me down, moving me in anyway that you wanted for your own pleasure. Your hand moves slowly down his front as you speak, and Max rewards your honesty by smoothly removing his shirt, his muscular chest now on display for you. You continue your exploration and trace across his wide shoulders, feeling your heart speed up at the stark difference in your sizes. And, I think about how sexy you sound when you get angry, cause your Dutch accent slips through and makes it even hotter, and I wondered how you would sound if you gave me orders and told me exactly how you wanted me to please you.

Max’s breathing is getting deeper, revealing that your boyfriend is not as unaffected by your words as he is acting. You bite your thick lips as Max’s hands find their way to your ass again, now simultaneously pushing you down onto his leg while pushing his thigh up at the same time. Yeah, schatje? Like this? You want me to show you just how much stronger I am than you, just how hard I’ve had to hold back in case I hurt you?

His fingers unzip the back of your satin dress, allowing it to easily slide off your shoulders, exposing your perfect tits for him while his other hand navigates between your thigh, easily ripping your thong off on one side and pulling it up your smooth leg to let it dangle on your ankle. His hands set the pace as he easily bounces you up and down on his large thighs, making you moan sweetly in pleasure, then squeal as his mouth latches onto your pretty brown nipple that he had been hungrily eyeing. He licks and kisses aggressively at your boobs, leaving a smattering of hickeys as he went and you can’t control how loud your moans get anymore. Ohhh, Maxie, that feels so good~

He bites down on a nipple, then leaves a gentle lick on the bruise he left, and you feel a lightning bolt shoot straight to your pussy at the feeling 💕 He smirks in satisfaction, noticing the blissful expression on your face. Fuck, you like it rough, don’t you baby? Love when I use your little body however I want? You whine in agreement, all earlier inhibitions completely out the window as you’re lost in the pleasure Max makes you feel. That’s all he needs to escalate this again. His hands grab onto your satin dress, this time easily ripping it into two and tossing it onto the floor. You squeal, eyes wide at his casual display of strength as his palms find their way to your exposed jiggling ass, laying a powerful smack on them as you continue to hump his thigh. Oh! Ohhh, Maxie, mhhmm, feels so good!

Max chuckles at your endearing desperation, delivering slap after slap to your quickly reddening asscheeks as you bounce on him. He delivers another slap, this time leaving his hand there to possessives squeeze the flesh while his other hand wraps around your throat to pulls your lips forward onto his. You moan into the sloppy kiss, so unbelievably turned on at this domineering side of Max. His fingers glide across your ass, teasing your dripping heat from behind and you feel your orgasm quickly approaching. You greedily bury your hands in his soft hair as his tongue swipes across yours, when Max suddenly stands up, pushing you off him and onto your knees on the fluffy carpet. You blink up at him, dazed at the change in position, only to find a wicked smirk on his face as he steps out of his pants, letting his thick and very hard erection swing out, his tip landing just in front of your plush lips.

You feel your face flush, because truly you had not gone down on your boyfriend very much at all. He would often be the one to worship you, lounging for an easy three quarters of an hour in between your legs, his tongue lapping at your wet heat. Your boyfriends’ thoughts mirrored yours exactly, and he leaned down, his hand cupping your chin and forcing a thumb into your mouth. You wanted me to use you, isn’t that right? To be a little fucktoy for me, and let all of my stress out at? Go on, schatje, you know what to do.

You immediately began suckling at his thumb, eyes wide, mascara smudged sexily, and looking up at him sooo obediently that he feels himself get even harder. Fuck yeah, that’s a good girl. He swiped his thumb across your tongue before hooking it around one corner of your lips, stretching it uncomfortably wide to the side. Open that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart. It’s time to teach you how to put it to good use.

You could tell Max was just getting started from the pleased smirk on his face as he watched you get more and more desperate to have him. Fuck, you were in for a long night.

—————————————————————————

A/N: Part 3 is out! Tysm to all of you for the unexpected response!! So glad so many of you liked it, glad I can feed all you thirsty souls hehe 🤭 Comment to let me know what you think cause it’s been a while since I’ve done this! Lmk if you have any ideas/prompts for our manz u want me to write 🫶

[symbiomancy]

video game —ryōmen sukuna

—summary: Sukuna can play his video games if you're sitting on his cock, you're not that distracting.

—cw: f!reader, stepcest, cockwarming, their reasoning as to why cockwarming ≠ sex is questionable / ao3 ver

—wc: 1, 4k

You lean over the back of the couch, wrapping your arms around Sukuna’s shoulders. He doesn’t even look your way, his eyes glued to his video game on the living room TV screen. His fingers tap the buttons of the controller swiftly and his character moves around on the TV screen. “So,” you begin with a drawl, mouth next to his ear, “we’re home alone and I’m bored.”

“So?”

You roll your eyes and pull away, rounding the couch to stand in front of the TV, hands on your hips. Sukuna frowns, leans to the right to look past you. You lean, too.

“I’m just saying, you’re here, I’m here, I’m also horny; you could just be in me and play your little game.”

Sukuna pauses his game and leans back on the couch, drapes one arm along the backrest. He lets his eyes trail down your body, from the tight shirt — no bra, again, you’re killing him here — to the already short skirt hiked way up. It wouldn’t leave much to the imagination if you bent over. The thought makes his pants tighten.

“How generous of you.”

“And — and, it’s not even sex; Mormons or someone have a technicality where it’s not premarital sex if you do cockwarming and get someone to jump on the bed to create friction. They also have a loophole about anal but that’s not important right now.”

“Right now?” He raises a brow. You nod. He tucks that knowledge away into the crevices of his mind. “And are you Mormon? Because I don’t see how what you said correlates to this.” He motions between you with the sweep of his finger.

“Yes, it correlates, okay?” You step forward and lean in, hands on his thighs, open cleavage right in his face. Sukuna soaks the sight in, the plush flesh and the perked nipples, swallowing around the tightness in his throat. “As long as you don’t actually move in me, it’s fine, it’s not the actual action of sex. You can do that for me, right?” You lean forward until your lips brush his and press a chaste kiss against his lips. He parts them to reciprocate, the game controller forgotten next to him on the couch, hands now on your body, tugging you toward him. “Sounds nice, right?” You mumble against his mouth.

“You’re very convincing, baby,” he says, pulling back just enough but still lingering in your personal space.

You tug the hem of his boxers down and his half-hard cock springs, up, resting against his abdomen. Beads of precum are gathered at the tip and you swipe a finger over the slit and drag it along the thick vein on the side of his shaft. Sukuna inhales slowly and exhales, long and heavy. His breath fans your lips.

“So?”

“Yeah, sure.” It doesn’t come out as aloof as he would’ve liked it to — there’s a soft lilt in his voice, instead, the curve of his lips curled up. You’re going to be the death of his reputation, if not the entirety of his being.

You stand with your knees on either side of his thighs and pull your underwear to the side. Sukuna hikes up your skirt with one hand and makes a sound of pure contentedness in the back of his throat at the sight of your pretty pussy, his other hand fisting his cock. What he wouldn’t do to ruin it, to have it dripping with his cum, gathering it up with his fingers to force it back in. You could take it, could take everything he has to offer. If he had the time, he’s sure he could spend hours watching it slowly dribble out only to fuck it back into you. He gives his cock a quick stroke, then another, painfully hard at the idea of ruining your pretty pussy with his cum, and adjusts himself so he’s lined up with you.

The tip drags across your folds and your breath hitches in your throat. You want to avert your eyes from him, look at where the tip of his cock is pressing against your entrance, but he’s too enticing, eyes half-lidded, lips parted and glossy from spit. He pushes in, eyes snapping up to meet yours, hands on your hips to slowly bring you down. Your mouth drops open, nails digging into his shoulders — the stretch is slow and aching and so divine you feel tears prickling your eyes but you don’t look away from him. It sends a flashfire rolling under your skin, clenching around his tip. Fingers — your own fingers, even — work well enough but having someone inside you, someone whose movements you can’t control, someone this thick—

Sukuna pauses with a swear tumbling from his lips, large warm hands on your hips to keep you at half-mast on his cock.

“No, no, no — keep going, keep going.”

“Just… give me a sec.” He closes his eyes and lets his head tip back and breathes in slowly, holds it for a moment, then exhales. His hands squeeze your hips. He doesn’t look at you again, but slowly, excruciatingly slowly pulls you down. His cock drags against your walls so sweetly until he’s buried to the hilt.

The air stands still, your breath caught in your throat. All at once, you both exhale, heavy and drawn-out, adjusting. You’re so warm around him, hugging him so tightly he might blow his load into you any minute. He doesn’t think he could hold himself back from jumping you like a dog in heat, fucking his cum back into you again and again and again. He has the stamina. Sukuna takes a deep breath to level himself, picks up the discarded game controller, and wraps his arms around your waist, unpausing his game.

You dare a glance to where your bodies are conjoined and snap your gaze up immediately, heat rushing to your cheeks. Slowly, you let your body tip forward until you’re chest to chest, your chin on his shoulder.

The tiled kitchen backsplash provides a distorted but somewhat coherent reflection of the TV screen. His character moves around, leaps, shoots. It’s a lot to keep track of. Fatigue from the summer heat weighs down your shoulders and you stifle a yawn.

Other than the sounds from Sukuna’s game and the hum of the fridge, the house is quiet.

Your drooping eyes follow the action on the TV. You can make out figures walking around but that’s about it.

“Somebody on your left.”

Sukuna’s avatar turns right and promptly dies.

He smacks a hand against your ass and you yelp, press forward and he’s so much deeper, tip nudging your cervix. It drives the air from your lungs, a broken moan chasing it. Maybe he’d be willing to stay this way forever; if you ask nicely enough. “Your left,” he says. But his hand doesn’t leave. Instead, it massages the spot it made contact with. You take a deep breath, heart thrumming against your sternum, and press a kiss against the side of his neck. He smells good, a pleasant mixture of shampoo and cologne.

“Could you ever find it in your big, big heart to forgive me?” You clench around him for emphasis and Sukuna groans. You almost, almost want to sit up and sink down on him, just to hear that sound again. But that wasn’t in the deal. So, you change the subject. “Why are you wearing cologne at home?”

“I have plans.”

“Nobody wears cologne to hang out with the guys.” You trace mindless patterns on his back, feeling the grooves of the vertebrae of his spine underneath your fingertips. “Do I know this girl you’re meeting with?”

“No.”

A low hum leaves your parted lips and you don’t bother to push the topic. It’s not worth it, whoever she is; it’s not worth it. This right here, right now is just the two of you. She doesn't matter. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, the tip of your nose grazing his neck, breath ghosting over his collarbones with every exhale, and let your eyes slip closed, giving into the summer heat and the fire simmering under your skin. “Wake me up when you have to leave.”

Sukuna responds with a non-committal hum and turns down the volume on his game.

And if his date texts him to ask if he's still up for their outing, maybe he asks her for a raincheck.

banner + divider by @/cafekitsune

[pickingupmymercedes]

Firsts pt.1 - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Some firsts, like Small firsts, only NSFW version - pt1 / pt2 /

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, like all sorts.

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: +4K

a/n: This is part 1, to possibly a 4 part thing. It ran from me and it was getting huge.

a/n 2: Loved all the prompts, thank you for everyone who sent them.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

First time without worrying about protection

"Do you think it’s a good time?" Y/n asked, her voice soft as she looked over at Lewis. The question had been lingering in her mind, and she could tell it was on his too, ever since she told him she wouldn’t be putting another IUD in for a while.

They had spent the day surrounded by Lewis's family—his niece and nephew running around, his mum laughing, the warmth of family life filling every corner of the house. It had been perfect. But it had also stirred something in them, something she couldn't ignore any longer.

Lewis was quiet for a moment, his eyes focused on the road ahead, but she could see the wheels turning in his head. “I’ve been thinking about that too” he admitted, his voice thoughtful. “With you not on any birth control, I mean. It feels like… maybe it’s the sign we’ve been looking for.”

Y/n nodded, the warmth of the sun shining through the window matching the warmth she felt at his words. “It’s been on my mind all day… seeing you with your family… it made me realize how much I want that for us.”

Lewis glanced over at her, his expression thoughtful, but a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “That’s all I’ve always wanted.” he said softly, keeping his eyes on the road. “But…”

"But you're not sure it’s the right time," she finished for him, her voice understanding.

He nodded, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly. “It’s not that I don’t want that with you. I do. More than anything. Our own pack running ramped. But with racing… What if I’m not there enough? What if I miss out? What if you’re left to deal with too much?”

Y/n reached over, placing her hand on his, her touch gentle but firm. “I get it, Lew. I really do. And I love how much you care about being there, about being a good father.” She sighted before continuing “I think the decision to not get another iud made me realize how much I actually want this. Our own family.”

He was quiet for a moment, processing her words. The sound of the tires on the road was the only noise as they both let the weight of the conversation settle in.

“You really think we’re ready?” Lewis finally said, his voice low but not lacking conviction at all.

“Yeah” she said after she reached for his hand with both of hers. “We don’t have to rush it, though… let’s see where life takes us. No pressure, no expectations. If it happens, it happens.”

Lewis turned to look at her as they stopped at a red light, his eyes searching hers. “You’re really sure about this?”

“I am” she replied, her voice steady now. “I’m ready to start our family.”

The light turned green, but Lewis didn’t move immediately. He leaned over, pressing a kiss to her hand still resting on his. “Okay,” he said softly. “Let’s see what happens. No more protection, no more overthinking. We’ll take this time and just… let it be.”.”

The rest of the drive was filled with a comfortable silence, their decision bringing a new sense of anticipation between them. When they got home, the atmosphere was charged with an unspoken understanding. But instead of immediately acting on their decision, they spent the rest of the evening wrapped up in each other’s company, the weight of their choice lingering in the background.

The next day, Y/n noticed Lewis watching her more closely than usual. His eyes seemed to follow her every move, lingering on the curve of her hips, the way her body swayed as she walked. It was as if he was seeing her in a new light, imagining her with their child, and it made his heart race.

That evening, as she was getting ready for bed, Y/n caught him staring at her in the bathroom mirror. She raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “You’ve been staring at me all day, Mr. Hamilton. What’s on your mind?”

Lewis smiled, his eyes darkening with desire as he stepped closer. “I couldn’t help it. I’ve been thinking about you… about us. About you carrying our child.”

Her smirk softened into a tender smile as she turned to face him. “And what exactly have you been thinking?”

Instead of answering, Lewis closed the distance between them, his hands sliding around her waist as he pulled her close. His lips found hers in a kiss that was slow, deep, and full of unspoken promises. The need in him was palpable, and Y/n felt it too, a longing that had been building since their conversation the day before.

Without breaking the kiss, Lewis guided her back to the bedroom, his touch gentle but insistent, their clothes discarded piece by piece along the way, until they were finally pressed together, skin to skin, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.

When they reached the bed, he paused, looking into her eyes as if asking for permission. Y/n gave a slight nod, her breath hitching in anticipation.

They fell onto the bed together, their movements slow and deliberate. Lewis’s hands caressed her body, his touch familiar and tender, but with a new depth, a new meaning behind it. They were no longer just making love—they were creating something, laying the foundation for the future they both wanted so desperately.

Lewis took his time, kissing every inch of her skin, his lips lingering on the spots he knew made her shiver. “I love you,” he murmured against her collarbone, his voice thick with emotion.

“I love you” Y/n replied, her fingers threading through his hair as he moved lower, worshipping her with every touch.

When he finally entered her, it was with a reverence that took her breath away. He moved slowly, their bodies perfectly in sync, their rhythm a witness to the years they had spent together.

Each thrust a promise, each sigh of their shared dreams they were finally taking the step towards.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Lewis whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

“It’s perfect,” Y/n replied, her eyes meeting his, her hands gripping his shoulders as he moved within her. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He kept going, his pace steady, his focus entirely on her. The softness of their lovemaking was intoxicating, the connection between them deeper than ever. Y/n felt herself unraveling, the pleasure building slowly, spreading through her body in waves.

He made love to her like his life depended on it, every touch, every kiss, every movement filled with an intensity that left her breathless.

“Lew…” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

“I know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear as he buried himself deep inside her, his body trembling. “I can’t stop thinking about it. About you… full of me.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Lewis breathed close to her ear when she hissed at how deep his thrusts were, his lips brushing against her skin as he continued to move. “I can’t believe how lucky I am. I’ll get to see you with our child”

“We both are” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion. “And we’re going to be even luckier… soon.”

Her words seemed to spur him on, his thrusts becoming slightly more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to keep his control. But this wasn’t about rushing to the finish—it was about savoring every moment, every touch, every look.

Y/n’s hands slid down to his back, her nails lightly dragging across his skin, urging him closer, deeper. The pressure was building within her, and she knew she was close.

“Lew…” she breathed, her voice hitching with the effort of holding back. “I’m so close…”

“Yeah?!” he whispered; his voice raw with need. “Let go, baby. Let go with me.”

And she did. With a soft cry, she let the pleasure wash over her, her body trembling as she came apart in his arms. Lewis followed a few thrusts later, his own release shuddering through him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, their bodies entwined, their breaths mingling as they rode out the waves together.

When it was over, they lay there, still tangled in each other, the room filled with the soft sounds of their breathing. Lewis lifted his head to look at her, a lazy, satisfied smile on his lips.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“More than okay,” Y/n replied, a matching smile spreading across her face

Lewis chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, I might just stay like this a bit longer. Just making sure it sticks.”

Y/n laughed, a warm, genuine sound that filled the room. “Yeah? You’re really committed, aren’t you?”

“Yap” he said, settling back down and giving her nose a light kiss. “I’ve always been a fan of thoroughness.”

“Looks like I’ve got the right man for the job then” she teased, her eyes twinkling with affection.

Lewis grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “All part of the plan. I want to make sure every moment counts.”

First drunken sex

The warmth of the alcohol buzzed through Y/n’s veins, her thoughts pleasantly blurred, and her body humming. Everything felt heightened—every touch, every sound, every breath.

She couldn’t keep her hands off Lewis; his skin was magnetic, drawing her in closer, deeper. Her fingers, clumsy yet insistent, traced the curve of his jaw, the light stubble prickling under her touch as she pulled him closer.

“Y/n…” Lewis’s voice was soft, slurred slightly, as he tried to focus on her face. His lips were so close, but he wasn’t moving to close the distance. Not yet.

She leaned in, her breath warm and heavy with the scent of whiskey, brushing against his cheek as she whispered, “Lewis... let’s just have fun.” She giggled, the sound slightly off-balance, just like her thoughts.

He raised an eyebrow, trying to keep his footing as Y/n swayed dangerously close to tipping over. “Are you sure you’re not too drunk for this?” he asked, one hand steadying her by the waist.

She waved off his concern with a lazy hand, her other hand sliding up his chest. “Nah, I’m just… tipsy.” She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “And very, very horny.”

Lewis chuckled, but his grip on her tightened as she nearly tripped over her own feet. “We should take it slow, love” he suggested, though the look in her eyes was making it hard to stick to his resolve.

“Slow?” She pouted, batting her lashes exaggeratedly. “But I want fast, Lew. Fast and… rough!” She tugged at his shirt, trying to pull him closer, but only managing to stumble back onto the bed, pulling him down with her.

He caught himself just in time, hovering over her as she sprawled out on the sheets, laughing at their clumsy tumble. “Okay, you’re actually going to lie down for a bit” he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

Y/n shook her head, reaching up to pull him down onto the bed with her. “Nope. No lying down. Not yet.” She giggled again, the sound more of a hiccup this time. “I’ve got plans for you, Sir.”

“Oh really?” He smirked, trying to stay composed as she tugged him closer, her breath hot against his neck.

“Uh-huh.” She nodded, her fingers working on the buttons of his shirt, though they fumbled more than they succeeded. “But you gotta let me lead, okay? You just… just follow what I say.”

Lewis chuckled, letting her work at the buttons even though it was clear she wasn’t getting anywhere fast. “And what exactly are these plans?” he asked, his voice teasing as he finally reached down to help her with his shirt.

Y/n beamed up at him, clearly pleased with herself as she finally got one button undone. “Well, first… first, we get you naked.” She giggled again, her hands moving more quickly now, though not any more successfully. “Then I get naked. And then…” She trailed off, her fingers freezing as she forgot what she was saying.

“And then?” he prompted, an amused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched her try to piece together her thoughts.

She blinked up at him, her expression confused for a moment before she burst into laughter. “I forgot what comes next!” she admitted, her laughter infectious as she collapsed back onto the pillows.

Lewis shook his head, laughing along with her. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah” she said, still giggling as she reached up to pull him down into a kiss. “And you love it.”

He smiled against her lips, kissing her back gently, savoring the taste of whiskey and the sweetness of her. “I do” he murmured, his resolve weakening as she deepened the kiss, her hands wandering lower, more purposeful now despite the alcohol. “But maybe we should—”

“Shhh.” She pressed a finger to his lips, her other hand slipping under his shirt to trace the lines of his muscles. “No more talking. Just… just touch me, okay?”

He groaned softly as her touch made him shutter, the alcohol amplifying every sensation. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let her guide him, his hands following the path she set, moving over her body as she arched into him.

“That’s it,” she whispered, her voice breathy with need as she guided his hands lower, her hips rolling up to meet his touch under her lingerie. “Just like that…”

He obliged, though every so often he had to steady her as she nearly lost her balance, the room spinning slightly around them. “You’re sure about this?” he asked one last time, his voice letting through he was having a hard time containing himself.

“Positive,” she replied, her tone leaving no room for doubt. “Just… follow my lead, Lew. Just this once”

He smiled, shaking his head at her persistence, but he let her take control, his hands sliding over her body as she undressed him, their movements clumsy but full of laughter and desire. They fumbled with clothes, bumping heads and elbows.

Finally, when they were both naked, Y/n pushed him back onto the bed, straddling his hips as she looked down at him, her eyes dark with desire and a bit less alcohol then when they started.

“Now, we have fun,” she declared, her voice filled with drunken confidence as she began to move.

He groaned, his hands gripping her hips to steady her as she set the pace. Her movements were a little too fast, a little too unsteady.

“Babe. Slow.” he muttered, though he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as he followed her lead.

“Ops, sorry.” she replied laughing, breathless as she moved against him, her laughter turning into gasps of pleasure as they found a slower rhythm, their bodies moving together in a drunken dance that was both chaotic and perfect in its own way.

Her unsteady pace and fervor kept pushing him closer to the edge far too quickly. He felt the familiar tightening in his lower belly, the building pressure that signaled he was about to lose control. “Y/n, I’m—” he tried to warn her, but she just smirked down at him, her hips grinding harder against him.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she whispered, her tone dripping with mischief as she kept moving, her own desire spurring her on.

He tried to hold back, but it was no use. With a low, desperate groan, he felt himself teetering on the brink.

Instinctively, his hand reached between them, aiming for her clit to bring her over the edge with him, but she swatted his hand away, her voice firm despite the tremor in it. “Nope. Told you, I’m in the lead.”

He could only watch as she took control, her eyes locked on his as she began to rub her own clit, her fingers moving in tight circles while she used his body to reach her pleasure.

The sight of her, the feel of her, it was too much. With a choked gasp, he came, his body shaking beneath her as she continued to ride him through it, her own gasps and moans filling the room.

She was relentless, her fingers working her clit with intensity, using every thrust and grind to push herself closer. He could do nothing but watch, his breath ragged, as she brought herself to the brink. And when she finally tumbled over, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm, the sound of his name on her lips was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.

She finally collapsed, her body draped over his, both of them spent and breathless, their hearts racing in sync.

Y/n’s fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she nestled closer to him.

“I think… I like this tipsy me” she murmured; her voice heavy with contentment.

Lewis chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I like anything to do with you.”

First car sex

The sun had begun its descent, casting a golden glow over Malibu Beach as Lewis and his friends wrapped up their day of surfing. Y/n, along with a few others, had stayed behind, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the beach. The sandy heat was soothing, but as they finally packed up, a different kind of warmth was brewing within Lewis.

He had watched Y/n from afar, her bikini clinging to her sun-kissed skin, her laughter mingling with the salty breeze. The way the sun highlighted her curves, the way her body moved with its own rhythm—it had been almost unbearable.

He had to have her, right then, but with the beach full of people and his friends around, he’d had to keep his desire in check.

As they headed back to the jeep, Lewis couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. He took a detour, steering the vehicle away from the main road and towards a secluded overlook with a breathtaking view of the ocean.

He parked the jeep, his gaze already turning to Y/n with a smirk that promised more than just a scenic view.

“What are we doing?” Y/n asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Just thought we could take a little detour,” Lewis replied, his voice low and laden with anticipation. He looked over at her, his eyes smoldering with barely-contained desire, his hands reaching even higher on her thighs as his voice came close to her hair. “You looked incredible at the beach today. The sun glistening down on you.”

Her breath caught at his words, a thrill running through her as she realized what was about to happen. “Are you … now, for real Lew?”

He gave a mischievous grin, reaching for her hands. “If you want it too. But we’ve got to be quick and quiet.”

The back seats were folded down to fit the surfboards, leaving just enough space for them. Lewis had already laid out a towel in the middle of the boards, a makeshift bed for their impromptu encounter.

Y/n’s pulse quickened as she followed him, her eyes locking with his.

“What if we get caught?” she asked, her voice teasing but edged with anticipation as she reached for the hem of his shorts.

Lewis chuckled, his hands roaming over her body as he pulled her closer. “Then we better keep quiet.”

He kissed her deeply, his hands tracing the curve of her back as he guided her to the makeshift bed. The warmth from the sun was still on their skin, mingling with the salty residue of the ocean.

“I haven’t had sex in a car in so long,” Lewis murmured against her lips, his breath hot and heavy. “You’ve got me wanting to do the craziest things.”

Y/n’s laughter was breathless as she tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. “I’m glad I’m the one making you feel that way.”

Lewis grinned, his hands deftly grabbing a condom from the bag on the side. He rolled it on, his gaze never leaving hers as he prepared his dick. “You ready?”

Her eyes fluttered up to his eye, a soft moan escaping her lips as she nodded. “Yes.”

He positioned himself before her, catching her arousal with the tip of his member and dragging it up and down her clit. As he entered her, he couldn’t help but groan at the sensation, the way her body wrapped around him, as he made sure to angle his pelvic bone just right to hit that spot within her walls that drove her wild.

Their bodies moved together, their thrusts causing the towel to shift beneath them. The salt from the ocean made their skin slick, with a unique texture to the scene. Each thrust one that made her gasp and moan.

“God, Lewis,” she breathed, her hands gripping his shoulders as he continued to thrust into her. “You feel so good.”

He smirked; his pace steady but increasingly fervent. “I needed this so much.”

His movements aiming to hit that special spot that made her shiver and moan. The confined space of the jeep, combined with the intimacy of the moment, heightened their senses. Her eyes closed, her breaths coming in gasps as she approached the edge of her climax.

“You close, love?” Lewis asked, his voice a strained whisper as he maintained his rhythm.

“Yeah,” she managed, her voice trembling with pleasure. “So close.”

When she finally managed to open her eyes to look at him, he was smiling, his thrusts now slower, more deliberate, as he dragged out every wave of her orgasm.

The pleasure overwhelming, the intimacy of the moment making it all the more intense. They lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat and ocean salt, savoring each other.

“Reckon you got one more in you?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

She managed a weak nod, her hands gripping the edges of the towel. “I’ll give it my best”

Lewis chucked and picked up the pace “I’ll drag another one, if need be.”  Her moans filling the confined space again, mixing with his own grunts of pleasure.

First sex dream

Lewis stirred awake, the remnants of his dream still clinging to his mind like a hazy fog. His body was warm, a flush of heat running through him as he slowly blinked his eyes open, taking in the soft afternoon light filtering through the curtains.

He was on the couch in their home office, where he’d drifted off while Y/n worked at her desk. But now, as tried to blink awake, he was painfully aware of the tension in his lower body—the unmistakable evidence of a wet dream.

He groaned softly, a bit embarrassed and still undeniably hard. The dream had been so vivid, so real. He could still feel the ghost of her touch, the way her body had moved against his, the way she had tasted.

It was almost as if he could reach out and pull her back into his arms.

His eyes drifted over to Y/n, who was seated at the desk, completely absorbed in whatever she was working on. She had her hair up in a messy bun, a few strands falling around her face. She was wearing one of his old t-shirts, the fabric loose and soft, hiding the curves that had driven him wild in his dream.

The sight of her, so close yet so unaware of the effect she was having on him, made his pulse quicken even faster.

Lewis shifted on the couch, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the dream, but every movement only heightened the awareness of his arousal. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her—every glance only reignited the vivid memories of his dream.

In the dream, he’d had her spread out before him, her body trembling as he pulled her fourth orgasm out of her, her cries echoing in his ears.

The first two orgasms he’d coaxed from her with nothing but his fingers, teasing and torturing her until she was begging for more, her hips bucking against his hand. The third had come from his mouth, his tongue and lips working together to push her over the edge, her body arching and twisting.

The memory of it was enough to make him groan, his desire for her growing stronger by the second. The way she’d looked in the dream—eyes glazed with lust, lips parted in breathless moans, skin flushed with pleasure—was burned into his mind.

And now, watching her sitting there, so unaware of the effect she was having on him, was driving him to the brink of madness.

“Y/n,” he called out, his voice rougher than he intended.

She turned in her chair, smiling softly when she saw him awake. “Hey, sleepyhead. Had a good nap?”

He swallowed again, nodding. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Her smile widened, and she got up from her desk, walking over to where he was lying. “You look a little off” she noted, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Are you feeling okay?”

The innocent touch made him flinch, his body responding far too eagerly to her proximity. “I, uh… had a dream,” he admitted, his eyes locking onto hers, searching for any sign that she knew what kind of dream it had been.

“Oh?” she asked, her eyebrows raising with curiosity. “What about?”

He hesitated, feeling the heat creep up his neck. How could he tell her without sounding like a complete idiot? The way she was looking at him, so sweet, so concerned, only made the memory of the dream more vivid.

“It was uh… about you,” he said finally, his voice low.

Her eyes sparkled with interest, and she tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Really? What was I doing?”

“I mean, just… stuff.” he said quickly, almost out of breath.

“Stuff?” She laughed, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Lew?”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “The kind of stuff that makes it really hard to sit here and not bend you over.”

Her laughter softened, and she moved closer, her hand resting on his thigh. “Well, why don’t you?”

His breath hitched as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “Was I being a good girl in your dream, or were you making me beg?”

“Y/n…” His voice was a warning, but it came out weak, betraying just how much he wanted her to keep going.

“Come on, tell me” She coaxed, her hand sliding up his thigh, dangerously close to where he was already aching for her. “What was I doing in your dream?”

“You were—” He sucked in a breath as her fingers lightly traced the outline of his arousal through his pants. “You were… coming. Again and again. And I… I couldn’t get enough.”

“Mmm,” she purred, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “And how many times did I come for you?”

“Four.” His voice was strained, the memory of the dream mingling with the reality of her touch. “The first two with my fingers.”

She bit her lip, clearly enjoying this more than she should. “And the others?”

“The third with my mouth,” he confessed, his eyes dark with desire. “And the fourth… you were so close, and I could feel it. So, I just kept going”

“Sounds like quite a dream,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his neck now, her breath hot against his skin. “Maybe we can make it a reality.”

Before she could continue, he was tugging down her lace panties, his fingers already itching to make the dream a reality.

“Lew—” she started, but he was already sinking to his knees on the floor, his hands parting her thighs as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her leg.

“Shh,” he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with need. “Let me make this real.”

And with that, he buried his face between her thighs, his mouth finding her with an eagerness that made her head fall back against the couch. His tongue flicked over her clit, his fingers teasing her entrance, and all she could do was moan as he set to work, determined to pull those same cries from her that he’d heard in his dream.

This time, it was real. And it was so much better.

______________________________________________________________

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[rootedinrevisions]

The Night We Fell

SUMMARY: After a night out with friends, you find yourself a little too tipsy and in need of a ride home. When Phoenix calls Bradley to pick you up, what starts as a simple favor turns into an unforgettable evening. Amidst drunken giggles, lingering glances, and unspoken emotions, the line between friendship and something more begins to blur.

WARNINGS: Some alcohol use and being drunk. But other than that this is pure fluff.

WORD COUNT: 4k

TAG LIST: @missmarveledsblog @shanimallina87 @fore45fore @cardi-bre91

The night had gotten away from you faster than you anticipated. What started as a casual drink with the other aviators turned into a full-blown party at The Hard Deck, complete with a few too many shots of tequila. You weren’t much of a drinker, and the alcohol had hit you harder than you’d expected.

By the time you’d stumbled out of the bar and collapsed into a chair on the deck, the world around you had become a blurry haze of laughter and music. Your friends tried to convince you to head home, but you stubbornly shook your head, giggling at how heavy your limbs felt.

When Phoenix—Natasha—suggested calling an Uber, you waved her off, muttering something about needing fresh air.

“You’re not going to make it home like this,” Natasha sighed, her tone patient but firm. “We need to get you out of here.”

As much as you wanted to argue, you knew she was right. The bar was starting to spin around you, and the thought of walking felt like an impossible task. Your shy, reserved nature wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and now you were the center of it, your teammates gathered around trying to help.

“No… no Uber,” you slurred, shaking your head as if that would solve the problem.

Natasha exchanged a look with Bob and Payback, all of them clearly unsure of what to do. That’s when Natasha had an idea.

“I’ll call Rooster.”

Your heart skipped at the mention of his name. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, your closest friend since you’d both met during your first stint at Top Gun.

He hadn’t come out tonight, opting for a quiet evening at home, but now he was about to be dragged into the chaos you’d created. A part of you was mortified, but another part—a quiet, secret part—was relieved. Bradley always made you feel safe, even in moments like these.

A short while later, Bradley’s familiar Bronco pulled up outside the bar, and you heard his deep voice before you saw him.

“Alright, where is she?” he asked, concern lacing his words. He stepped into view, scanning the small crowd until his eyes landed on you slumped in the chair, your face flushed from the alcohol.

“There you are,” he said softly, crouching down in front of you. “Let’s get you home.”

You blinked up at him, your mind fuzzy but recognizing the warmth in his voice, the safety that always seemed to follow him. Bradley’s hand slid under your arm, helping you up carefully as he guided you toward his Bronco.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” you mumbled, leaning heavily against him.

“You’re not trouble,” Bradley replied, his voice low and reassuring. “Come on, let's get you home.”

Bradley had just helped you to your feet when you suddenly pulled away from him, a mischievous grin on your face. The alcohol had blurred your sense of reasoning, and all you could think about was the sound of the ocean nearby, calling to you like some irresistible force.

“I’m going to the beach!” you declared, your voice louder than you intended as you stumbled in that direction.

Before Bradley could react, you slipped out of his grasp and made a run for it—well, as much as a run as your unsteady legs would allow.

Bradley sighed, watching you attempt your escape. He glanced back at Natasha, who stood with her arms crossed, an amused but knowing smile on her face.

“Now you know why we called you,” she said with a smirk.

Bradley chuckled, shaking his head as he set off after you. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

It didn’t take him long to catch up. The soft sand slowed your pace, and by the time Bradley reached you, you were giggling to yourself, your feet sinking into the cool beach beneath you. He walked up beside you, a teasing glint in his eye as he tried to reason with you.

“Come on, we’re going home,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “You’ve had enough fun for one night.”

But you weren’t having it. With a pout, you shook your head, your hair falling messily around your face. “Nooo, I don’t wanna go yet. The beach is so nice.”

Bradley sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried a different approach. “I’ll take you to the beach another time, I promise. But right now, I need to take you home and you need to sleep it off.”

You looked up at him, blinking like you were seriously contemplating his offer, but the alcohol still had too strong a hold on you. Instead of agreeing, you turned and tried to take another unsteady step toward the water.

That’s when Bradley decided enough was enough.

Before you could protest, he scooped you up into his arms, one arm under your knees, the other behind your back, lifting you effortlessly off the sand. You let out a surprised yelp, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Bradley!” you squealed, squirming a little, though not enough to actually get free.

He grinned down at you, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “You left me no choice,” he said with a chuckle, adjusting his grip on you. “You’re way too stubborn when you’re drunk.”

You pouted, but you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped you. The warmth of Bradley’s arms and the playful tone in his voice made you feel strangely content, despite your half-hearted protests.

As he carried you back toward the parking lot, the others watched with barely concealed laughter, Natasha shaking her head at the sight.

“Thanks, Bradshaw,” she called after him, clearly relieved they didn’t have to wrangle you themselves.

“Anytime,” he called back with a wink, continuing toward his Bronco with you securely in his arms.

Bradley drove you back to his place, the familiar roads passing by in a blur as you leaned your head against the window, humming some tune to yourself. He kept glancing over at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. You were different like this—unfiltered, carefree—and he couldn’t help but be charmed by it.

When he finally pulled into the driveway, you groaned dramatically, throwing your head back against the seat.

“What’s wrong now?” Bradley asked, trying to suppress his laughter as he watched you.

“My legs,” you whined, drawing out the words, “they suddenly don’t work. Guess you’ll have to carry me again.”

Bradley raised an eyebrow, but he couldn’t hide the grin that spread across his face. “Oh, really? That’s a shame,” he teased, already moving to get out of the truck. “Guess I’ll just have to take care of you, huh?”

Before you could respond, he was at your door, opening it with a flourish and reaching down to scoop you up just like he had at the beach. You giggled as he lifted you, your arms finding their way around his neck once more, your face pressed against his chest.

“You’re so strong,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “How do you do that?”

Bradley laughed softly as he carried you inside, the warmth of your body against his making his heart beat a little faster. “It’s all the push-ups,” he joked, kicking the door shut behind him.

Inside, the low light of his living room cast soft shadows across the space, but you barely noticed. As soon as he set you down on the couch, you flopped back with a dramatic sigh, your arms splayed out to the sides.

Bradley laughed as he looked down at you, shaking his head with that signature grin. “You’re going to be a lot of work, aren’t you?”

You just grinned up at him, your head lolling back against the cushions. “Probably.”

He crouched down in front of you. “Alright, let’s get you out of these bar clothes and into something more comfortable,” he said, giving your outfit a once-over. “Stay here.”

Bradley disappeared down the hall and returned a few moments later with a soft t-shirt and a pair of his shorts. He set them on the couch beside you. “Here you go. This should do for tonight.”

You blinked at the clothes, a lopsided smile forming on your face. “You’re giving me your clothes?” you asked, your voice high with surprise.

Bradley just shrugged casually, though the way he glanced at you made your heart flutter. “Yeah, well, you can’t sleep in those,” he nodded toward your jeans and top. “Go ahead and change. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

You stood, wobbling slightly on your feet as you started to peel off your top. But when it came to your jeans, they were another story. You tugged at the waistband, trying to shimmy out of them, but in your drunken state, your legs didn’t quite cooperate. One misstep later, you tripped over yourself, landing on the floor with your jeans half down, a soft “oof” escaping your lips.

Before you could even try to untangle yourself, Bradley was suddenly at the door, peeking in with a look of concern. “You okay in here?”

You froze, staring up at him from the floor, your face flushing as you realized the position you were in. “Uh, I—” you stammered, trying to pull the jeans down the rest of the way but getting more tangled in the process. “I think I… need some help.”

Bradley hesitated for only a second before walking over to you, kneeling beside you with a soft laugh. “Hold on,” he said gently, his hands moving to your waistband. “Let me get these off for you.”

His touch was warm but careful, and his eyes stayed focused on your jeans as he slid them down your legs. He made sure to avoid anything that might make you uncomfortable, keeping his movements slow and respectful. Once they were off, he glanced up at you, noticing the shy look on your face. You were suddenly quiet, your playful demeanor fading as a wave of embarrassment hit you.

“Hey,” Bradley’s voice was soft, reassuring as he met your eyes. “It’s okay. I’m not going to do anything. I just want to help you get comfortable, alright?”

You nodded, still feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “I know… I just—sorry. This is kinda embarrassing.”

Bradley shook his head, a gentle smile pulling at his lips. “No need to apologize. It’s not weird, I promise,” he said, his tone full of warmth. “You look cute in your flustered state, anyway.”

That comment earned him a shy giggle from you, and he stood, handing you the t-shirt he’d brought. “Here, finish getting dressed. I’ll turn around.”

True to his word, Bradley turned his back to you, giving you the privacy to slip into his shirt and shorts. The fabric was soft, smelling faintly of him, and it hung loosely on your frame, but it felt comfortable in a way that made you feel safe.

Once you were dressed, you cleared your throat softly. “Okay, I’m good.”

Bradley turned back around, his eyes soft as they flickered over your new look. A slow smile spread across his face.

“I’m soooo tired,” you groaned as you suddenly flopped back onto his couch, though the playful gleam in your eyes betrayed you. “But I’m also kinda hungry. Do you have snacks?”

Bradley shook his head, unable to suppress his smile as he watched you sprawl out, so completely at ease in his space. It was a side of you he hadn’t seen before—this unguarded, silly version of you. Normally, you were a bit more reserved, shy even, especially around him. But now, with the alcohol loosening your inhibitions, you were like a completely different person, and Bradley couldn’t deny how much he liked it.

“Snacks, huh?” he asked, moving into the kitchen. “I might have something you’ll want.”

You perked up instantly, your eyes following him as he rummaged through his cupboards. “Ooh, what do you have? Chips? Cookies? I’ll take anything, really.”

He came back with a bag of chips and a box of cookies, setting them down on the coffee table with a flourish. You gasped dramatically, your eyes wide as you grabbed the bag of chips, shaking it like it was some grand prize.

“You’re amazing, Bradley,” you said with exaggerated sincerity, ripping open the bag and shoving a handful into your mouth.

Bradley chuckled as he sat down next to you, watching as you munched happily, your legs curled up underneath you. He couldn’t stop staring. The way you laughed, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief—it was like seeing you in a whole new light. You were always beautiful to him, but this side of you? This carefree, uninhibited side? It was something else entirely.

You caught him staring and tilted your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “What’re you looking at, Bradshaw?”

He smiled softly, leaning back against the couch. “You just look so good when you wear my shirt,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

Your cheeks flushed, and for a moment, the playful banter between you stilled as the weight of his words settled in the air. You looked down at the oversized shirt you were wearing—the one that still smelled like him—and suddenly, the world felt just a little bit smaller, the space between you and Bradley charged with something unspoken.

“I—I can take if off if it bothers you,” you mumbled, suddenly shy again. The bold, carefree version of you flickered for a second as you averted your eyes.

Bradley chuckled, scooting closer to you on the couch, his hand resting lightly on your knee. “Bothers me? Not even a little. Honestly, I kind of love it.”

You glanced up at him, your heart fluttering at the soft smile on his lips, the way his eyes lingered on you like you were the only thing that mattered in the room And as you looked into his eyes, you could feel that shift between you, that quiet understanding that whatever this was, it was about to change.

But before you could say anything, the alcohol caught up to you again, and a fit of giggles escaped your lips as you reached for the cookies, breaking the tension in the air.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through your chest at the way he looked at you.

Bradley just smiled, his hand resting on your knee a little longer than necessary. “Maybe,” he said softly, “but I think I’m in good company.”

Bradley leaned against the arm of the couch, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Alright, I think it’s time to call it a night,” he said, his voice low and calm, not wanting to disturb the peaceful quiet that had settled in the room.

You blinked up at him, lazily pushing yourself into a sitting position. “Hmm, I guess you’re right,” you murmured, still tipsy but slowly sobering. You gave him a teasing smile. “Maybe I’ll just go home.”

You turned and started heading towards the front door. Bradley let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, no. That’s not happening,” he said firmly, crossing the room in a couple of long strides, his arm wrapping around your waist to stop you from going any further.

His eyes softened as he looked at you. “So… do you want to crash on the couch? Or… you could take my bed?”

You felt your face flush at the thought of sleeping in Bradley’s bed. The sudden rush of nerves had you avoiding his gaze, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Sharing a bed with him—or with anyone—felt so personal, so intimate. And it wasn’t something you’d ever really done before. “Um…” You bit your lip, eyes darting up to meet his, then quickly away. “I don’t know…”

Bradley, noticing your sudden change in demeanor, tilted his head slightly, concern flickering across his face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked gently, leaning forward a little to get a better look at you. “You’ve gone quiet on me.”

You swallowed, feeling your heart race a little. It wasn’t something you ever talked about, especially with a guy. But the warmth in Bradley’s eyes, the safe feeling that always surrounded you when he was near, made it easier to admit your nervousness. “It’s just… I’ve never really…” You trailed off, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his shorts, feeling suddenly shy and vulnerable.

Bradley waited patiently, his gaze never leaving you. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your knee. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

Taking a deep breath, you let the words tumble out before you could second-guess yourself. “I’ve never… slept with a guy before,” you said softly, avoiding his eyes. “I mean, not like… sex,” you added quickly, flustered. “Just… you know, sharing a bed. Falling asleep next to someone.”

Bradley blinked, a momentary look of confusion crossing his face before he processed what you’d said. His brows furrowed, but not in judgment—just surprise. “Wait, really?” He asked softly, tilting his head as he studied you. “What about… I mean, your ex-boyfriends? You never…?”

You shook your head, feeling the embarrassment heat your cheeks. “Nope,” you muttered, rubbing your hand over your face as if trying to hide. “I always… I don’t know, kicked them out or left before we actually slept. I just… I’ve never felt comfortable enough, I guess.”

Bradley’s expression softened even more. There was no judgment in his eyes, only understanding. “Wow,” he said, his voice gentle. “I didn’t know that. But hey, that’s totally okay.”

You risked glancing up at him, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and relief at his easygoing reaction. “It’s stupid, right?” you mumbled, feeling silly for even bringing it up. “I’m just… I don’t know, I get really shy about stuff like that.”

Bradley shook his head, reaching over to gently take your hand in his. “It’s not stupid,” he said firmly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “If you’ve never felt comfortable enough to stay the night with someone, that’s fine. You don’t have to explain it.”

Your eyes softened at his words, the knot of nerves in your stomach slowly unwinding. His understanding felt like a weight lifted off your chest. “Thanks,” you said quietly, looking down at your intertwined hands. “But… I think… I want to, if it’s with you.”

Bradley’s eyes flickered with surprise, then something warmer—something softer—as he met your gaze. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and careful, not wanting to push you if you weren’t ready.

You nodded, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. “Yeah,” you whispered, offering a small smile. “I trust you, Bradley. I know you wouldn’t make it weird.”

Bradley’s lips curved into a slow smile, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said softly.

Your heart fluttered as you nodded again, the warmth of his hand grounding you. “Okay.”

He stood up, offering his hand to help you off the couch. “Alright, then,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “Let’s get some sleep. You can have the bed, and I’ll stay until your asleep and then I’ll—”

You tugged his hand slightly, cutting him off with a small, shy smile. “No,” you said quietly, your voice just above a whisper. “I want to share it. With you.”

Bradley looked down at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were certain. Then, with a soft nod, he led you down the hall, his hand never leaving yours.

As you and Bradley made your way to his bedroom, the air between you was warm and comfortable, even with the slight awkwardness of your earlier confession. His hand stayed in yours, steady and reassuring as he led you into the dimly lit room. The bed was neatly made, its navy-blue sheets crisp and inviting. Bradley let go of your hand as you approached the edge, both of you standing there for a moment.

“So,” Bradley started, glancing at the bed, then back at you with a small smile, “which side do you want?”

You blinked, surprised he was even asking. “Uh… whichever side you don’t want?” you said, a shy giggle escaping your lips.

He chuckled and nodded, walking around to the right side of the bed and pulling back the covers. You mimicked his movement, lifting the blanket on your side before climbing into the bed. The mattress was firm beneath you, the sheets cool and soft against your skin. Bradley slid in beside you, lying back with a content sigh as he settled into the pillows.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks again as you tugged the blanket up to your chin, suddenly feeling self-conscious being this close to him. But the warmth of his presence beside you, so familiar and comforting, was enough to make you relax. For a moment, you lay in silence, the gentle sound of Bradley breathing beside you filling the room.

Bradley shifted slightly, turning on his side to face you. “You good?” he asked, his voice soft in the dark.

You turned your head to look at him, nodding. “Yeah,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m good.”

But as the quiet settled in, your playful, tipsy side started to peek out again. The combination of being cozy in his bed and the lingering effects of the alcohol made your inhibitions lower, and before you knew it, you giggled softly.

Bradley raised an eyebrow, amused. “What’s so funny?”

You turned on your side to face him, biting your lip as you tried to stifle another giggle. “I was just thinking…” you started, your voice trailing off as your laughter bubbled up again.

He smiled at your amusement, a curious glint in his eyes. “Thinking what?”

You wiggled a little closer to him, your face still flushed with giggles as you blurted, “Can we cuddle?”

Bradley’s eyes widened for a second, clearly taken off guard, but the grin that spread across his face was unmistakable. “Cuddle, huh?” he asked, a teasing note in his voice.

You nodded, biting your lip again. “Yeah,” you said softly, the playfulness in your voice contrasting with the bashfulness you felt creeping in. “I mean, if you want to…”

Bradley let out a soft laugh and shook his head fondly. “You’re something else, you know that?” he said, shifting slightly closer to you. “Come here.”

With that, he wrapped an arm around your waist, gently pulling you toward him until your head rested against his chest. His body was warm and solid against yours, his arm resting comfortably around you as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You snuggled into him, your cheek pressed against his shirt, and sighed contentedly.

“You’re really good at this,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his chest.

Bradley chuckled softly, his breath warm against your hair. “I try,” he murmured. “Feeling better?”

You nodded, your body relaxing completely into his. “Much better,” you whispered, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as the warmth of his embrace wrapped around you like a blanket. The playful giggles had faded, replaced by a calm, peaceful feeling as you nestled against him, your fingers resting lightly against his chest.

Bradley’s hand gently stroked your back, his voice a quiet rumble. “I’ve got you,” he said softly, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “Just sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

With those words, the last of your nerves melted away, and you drifted off, feeling safe and warm in Bradley’s arms.

[h8ani]

Sasuke Uchiha x Reader

Word Count - 4k

Warnings - smut, angry sex, public sex, fear of getting caught, hair pulling, angst, slight paranoia, kinda non-canon structures (its been a long time since i watched naruto tbh so disregard the village not being exactly how the anime is), oral - male receiving, face fucking, gagging, degradation, penetrative sex, fem!reader, choking, reader is described to be wearing a dress in this chapter, there’s a voyeur

A/N - Just a reminder that if you have joined my taglist and change your username please let me know! If you haven't joined I put the link down below :) But holy hell you guys I can't believe I actually finished this after almost 5 months in my drafts, but I hope you enjoy it!

taglist! - @bloodsiren @blackfire2013 @benkeibear @suyacho @kodzukein

join my taglist → here

Part One → Part Two → Part Three → Part Four

It’s been a few days since the last time Sasuke was over. You’re used to the silence in between his visits; it’s become second nature to go days, even weeks, without seeing him, and the radio silence between each time he visits has become more common than the last. 

It doesn’t bother you. It does. You could really care less. Sasuke has been the only thing that’s been on your mind. You absolutely hate him. You feel…conflicted.

~~

Limbs tangled with one another, all you could hear were the heavy breaths that escaped both of your lips, your body rising and falling every time Sasuke took in a deep breath as you laid on top of him, his hands dancing along the skin of your back so featherlight it almost tickled. 

Neither of you had uttered a word, just basking in the feeling of touching the other’s skin; the warmth radiating off each other’s body heat brought a sense of familiarity that you couldn’t quite pinpoint just why you felt most comfortable in his arms. You mentally shook the thought away; there was no need to focus on that. Your mind had already cleared up from the sex fog he had put you under and had started to race with a million different things that you wanted to bring up to him. Why did he do what he did? When was he going to leave again? He’s going to leave right away, don’t be stupid. When were you going to see him again? Why did he leave in the first place? You wanted to bring up so much, but you couldn’t brush off this feeling that something was about to happen, as if the rainstorm you were caught up in earlier today was a warning of a disaster brewing and about to happen. 

“What’s wrong,” Sasuke spoke up, his words sounding more like a statement than a question. His eyes were trained on you, making your stomach involuntarily tighten with their intensity. He had been focusing on the multitude of expressions that had graced your face within the last minute; you were completely oblivious to his stare; somehow, he wanted to blame the sex for your lack of inattentiveness and not the fact that you may feel safe around him, no it couldn’t be that. Being distracted has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you being incompetent. Yeah, that’s it.  

Your eyes met his, and before he knew it, your eyes lit up, a small smile appeared, and a simple shake of the head erased any form of contemplation he had previously seen. “Nothing.” You quickly say, “Just thinking.” Bullshit

“About what?” He interjects, his hands that were once dancing lightly across your back were now holding your hips, gripping ever so slightly. 

“Just thinking, random thoughts, it doesn’t matter.” 

“If it doesn’t matter, then you can tell me.”

Huffing a sigh, you stare back at him, his emotionless pools of black not letting you get a read on him, yours: uncertainty. “You won’t answer me even if I ask.”

He raises and sits up, causing you to reposition yourself in an upright position as well; your eyes stay trained on him as his stare hardens, almost as if what you just said offended him somehow. His eyes glance into yours as if he needs to be wary now. “I’m not answering anything about why I’m back in the village or why I left.” He blurts out quickly, a scoff following soon after. “You know you can’t say anything about seeing me. Don’t go blabbing about it to any of your little friends, or I won’t be coming back.” His stare solidifies as your jaw drops ever so slightly; the hardened look he’s giving you makes your chest tighten, and your body rises in temperature. 

Sasuke sees your expression fall ever so slightly before you catch yourself and, in turn, sends the signature scowl he’s grown accustomed to back in his direction. Your eyes narrow while you sit up straighter, the discarded sheet on the bed now pulled tightly to your chest, and he curses at the way that made his stomach clench. He doesn’t care if you’re mad at him, but he can’t lie and say he didn’t want to ruin your two’s good momentum today. The sex was great, and he wanted to leave on what would be considered a good note for the both of you.

“I think you should go,” you say simply. You avert your glare and decide to stare at the wall instead, avoiding his eyes. “You know where the door is.” Ouch.

He rubs his face and sighs. “Look, you don’t get-”

“I don’t care, Sasuke. Like I said, it didn’t matter. So why don’t you just leave? I never saw you, and I’m not going to tell any of my “little friends.” 

You sigh and throw the blankets off you, quickly grabbing your clothes and slamming your bathroom door shut. 

Your throat tightened from the moment you got up, wanting to get away from him from the very moment he opened his stupid mouth. You take a slow, deep breath and let it out; the tightness in your throat drops to your stomach. Why would he even snap like that? What gives him the right to think he could speak like that to you? You miff another sigh out as the conflict in you bubbles up even more with the thoughts running rampant. How stupid could you be for thinking he actually could’ve been somewhat of a nice human being after today?

Your thoughts were quickly silenced by the sound of your front door opening and closing, the door shutting louder than necessary. Fucking asshole.

~~

You shake your head to rid yourself of your thoughts as you look at yourself in the mirror, you fix your hair and check over your outfit in the mirror, quickly doing a little 360 in your mirror. Everyone had decided that tonight was a good night to hang out and have some drinks as no one had any missions for tomorrow, so there was no need to worry about any impending hangovers. 

You changed into a nice dress that fell mid-thigh; it was form-fitting and casual enough that you didn’t overdress or underdress with it. You pulled your hair into a high ponytail and just enough makeup to cover any eye bags that were more prominent than usual, no less from your sleepless nights thinking about he-who-shall-not-be-named-or-thought-of. You looked yourself over in the mirror and smiled. You felt pretty tonight, and it was nice not constantly to be in work mode for once.

The stressors from work and the expectations you always got from everyone took a toll on your body more than you would have liked. You were expected to never make any mistakes and always be three steps ahead, and it was simply a lot. Was it fair? Probably not, but it was also what you got for being a perfectionist at such a young age. You gave everyone expectations where you could only rise instead of fall. If you fell, everyone would know, and you just couldn’t have that. 

You leave your apartment and make your way down to meet your friends. The air had a slight chill to it as the sun was finally setting, but something along with the chill was bothering you. You couldn’t brush off the feeling that someone was watching you. 

Your feet skid to a halt as you spin, eyes cascading along the rooftops of the buildings around you. Your breathing picks up as your heart begins beating, and you feel every thump as your anxiety spikes. You internally curse yourself for being so stupid as not to even bring a single shuriken with you. For god’s sake, you could’ve popped one in your purse just for safekeeping. The anxiety you feel is derived from being paranoid, and you have to remind yourself no one is watching you and that it’s just your own mind playing tricks on you. You take a deep breath as you hear a name call out to you; turning back around, you see Shikamaru and Choji waving you over. You speed walk over to them, swallowing down the feeling of someone’s eyes on you. Was Sasuke here again? You wouldn’t expect him to be over so soon after the fight you two had just days ago. He’s never over this soon after he leaves anyway. Usually, it takes weeks for him to come over, sometimes even months. Although his eyes being the ones you’ve felt had to have been it, there’s no other explanation.

~~

The buzz of the alcohol was finally settling in; once you got inside, you decided you needed a tiny little shot to calm your nerves and anxieties, then another once all your friends arrived and wanted to take a group shot, and now here you are ordering your third. You’re a lightweight, no shock about that, and feeling a bit dazed as you stare at the shot of alcohol sitting in front of you. You’re so zoned out, not even realizing the presence of someone taking the seat next to you at the bar table.

“You look nice tonight.” A familiar voice catches your ear, and you turn, seeing Shikamaru next to you. A sudden rush of heat hits you as you stare back at him. “Oh, T-Thank you.” You stutter out and mentally smack yourself. You divert your attention back to your shot glass, suddenly remembering how intriguing it was just two seconds ago. 

Suddenly, hearing the sound of glass scraping against the bar table, you look up and see a similar shot in Shikamaru’s hand. “Cheers?” He holds up his shot glass, waiting for you to do the same. A small chuckle leaves you as you hold yours up and clink your glass with his. “Cheers.” 

You knock back the shot, grimacing over the familiar burn down your throat and the fuzzy feeling deep in your stomach. You sigh and slump back against your seat as you look at Shikamaru. “You look nice too, I think I forgot to compliment you back.” 

He chuckles, “Thanks, I didn’t really know what to wear. I wanted to come in sweats and a hoodie, but Ino just about had a conniption when I mentioned that.”

“Oh, don’t lie, you didn’t even want to come to this.”

“And you did?”

“Well, you got me there, didn’t you?” 

Laughter fills the air around you two as you continue to talk about past missions, the latest drama you’ve heard around the village, and even as mundane as the midnight snacks you two have had, you were actually…enjoying yourself; the thought of Sasuke had been dissipated like the rain that had come and gone from the prior days. Listening to Shikamaru talk was something you found yourself rather enjoying. Still, maybe that’s just the alcohol in your veins talking. Yeah, that was definitely it. “So, what’s new with you?” Shikamaru asks, his eyes finding yours, and the sudden tightness is once again back, whether that being because the only thing that seems to be ‘new’ in your life was Sasuke and every little defiling and obscene moment between you two replayed again in your head or because you actually might be liking the attention Shikamaru is giving you the world will never know. 

“Ah, you know. Lots of training, lots of missions, lots of-”

“Staying in your apartment all day and night?”

You quirk an eyebrow up at him, lips slowly following suit. “Shikamaru Nara, are you stalking me?” An indiscernible giggle leaves your lips, which shocks not only you but also him. You can see the pink rising to his cheeks at your minor faux accusation; his eyes widen, and his hands immediately come up to defend himself. “No, I just hear Ino constantly nagging at me to hang out with her, that’s how I know. I don’t stand out of your window or anything like that. Do you know how much time and energy that takes? Do you know-”

“Shikamaru?” 

“What?”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.”

“You know, for someone with an IQ higher than a tree, you’re kinda dumb.”

“You know what…Shut up.”

~~

The air around you as you step outside drops a few degrees, causing you to shiver despite the multiple shots you had earlier. Glancing around, you notice how barren the pathways are and how barren the town seems. You glance back over your shoulder to see that Shikamaru is already on his way with his teammates, all drunk themselves, as you see them stumbling against each other. 

Your apartment isn’t far from where you are, so you, in turn, make your way down the path. Bad idea. The more you walk, the more you regret that last shot you took and every single life choice you seem to have made tonight because the line you had been walking in had slowly turned into a wave, making you plant your hand on the building beside you. “Just a little more, and I’m almost home.” You blow out a sigh before taking another step forward. Looking up, your body freezes as you see a rock fly past you and fall to the floor to your right. Your senses come to realize that someone is near as you stare at the rock. The alcohol has slowed your reflexes because you’re yanked backward, a scream bubbling up in your throat. Still, before you can release it, a hand is clasped over your mouth, and you get dragged in between the two buildings down the small alleyway.

You begin kicking back and screaming into the hand, fighting as you’re dragged back further into the small space between the two buildings, your front pressed against the wall and the chills finding their way back up your spine once you hear his voice. “How stupid could you be?” His voice is loud in your ear, hand still firm against your mouth, not allowing you to utter a word. “Walking home drunk is one thing, but what the fuck are you wearing?” He seethes. Your dress is already riding up higher on your thighs, just below your ass, due to being pressed between the wall and the man himself. It took all of one big gust of wind to blow it up or one perverted old man to ‘drop’ something of his to catch a look up your dress. The anger that welled up in his chest was undeniable as he pushed off of you and spun you around to slam you harder into the wall itself. Your eyes caught him scanning over you; his already dark eyes seemed even darker tonight. The dress you wore hugged every inch of you perfectly, and it drove him madder seeing it hiked up higher than intended, all thanks to him. One more inch, and he could see the little lace thong he knew you were wearing. He finds your eyes and tsks at the dumbfounded look you gave him; just how stupid were you? 

“Sasuke-”

“Shut up and get on your knees.” He cuts you off, hands gripping your arms and tugging you down until you plop down on your knees. The dirt underneath you digs uncomfortably into your skin. You look up, pupils dilated as you stare up at the ravenette. “Unless you want us to be caught, I suggest you not utter a single noise.” Without warning, Sasuke pushes two fingers past your lips and into your mouth, pumping the digits like they were his cock until they were soaked with your own spit. “I suggest you act right, given your circumstances.” He speaks, and your eyes narrow up at him; the urge to clamp your teeth on his fingers threatens to come to fruition, but you can’t ignore the subtle throb in between your legs. “Suck.” He says while pushing his fingers deeper and tugging his pants down with his other hand, pulling down the material along with his underwear, allowing his cock to spring out. You could feel yourself salivate just looking at him, wanting to trade his fingers for his cock against your better judgment. He presses his fingers down harder against your tongue, causing you to gag and choke on saliva; you can hear the snicker that comes from him as he watches you trying to quieten your coughing spout. 

His hand threads into your hair, messing up your almost perfect ponytail, the grip burning your scalp as he pulls you forward, knees dragging against the ground while the tip of his cock presses against your wet lips, his precum smearing across them in an almost erotic way that Sasuke doesn’t think he could last by just looking at you. 

You drop your jaw open while he pushes his cock past your lips, enveloping himself in the warmth that is your mouth. The grip on your hair grants you nothing but pain as his hips begin to move to their own rhythm, his cock hitting farther back than the last thrust. You try your best to breathe through your nose as he fucks your face to his liking; maybe if your mind weren’t so focused on Sasuke being here, cock down your throat and his eyes watching you so meticulously, you’d have the nerve to push back, make him slow down, maybe even explain why he knew you were out with your friends in the first place and not at home. 

Tugging you even tighter, Sasuke pushes your head until your nose is brushing against his stomach; your throat tightens as he effectively pushes each inch into your throat. “You feel me? Do you think that Shikamaru could ever stretch your throat out like I do? He might as well try something with you seeing how fucking drunk you were tonight.” His hips rock forward until his dick hits further back into your throat. You choke around him, drool effectually spilling past your lips and down your chin. 

Eyes squeezing shut, you sputter another cough, which turns into a gag around his length. A disapproving noise is heard from him as he pulls away, allowing you to take in deep breaths. As you open your eyes, you see him crouched down in front of you, a look one can only describe as displeasure. “How stupid could you be?” he says, slightly shaking his head before he speaks again. You’re supposed to be better than them.” 

“Better than-”

Crack!

“Naruto! You idiot!” You gasp as you hear the rest of your friends walking down and getting closer to the alleyway you were in. They must’ve just now left the bar you all were at; this isn’t good; you need to leave; they can’t see you like this. You pull farther away from Sasuke as you see them pass the opening between the two buildings, all of them stumbling and unknowingly passing you as they walk. 

Another tsk leaves his mouth as he shoves you forward; you catch yourself on your hands while grimacing at the sting that travels through the skin of your knees. You feel his hands positioning himself behind you, all while pushing your dress up to your hips and pulling your thong to the side. Suddenly feeling every bit of alcohol drain from your system, you become hyper-aware of what is really happening; you jolt forward, and before you can spin around to ask him what he thinks he’s doing, you’re yanked back by your hair, back arching to the point where you’re staring straight into his eyes. “Make sure to be quiet, or else everyone is going to see how much you love taking my cock.” A deep chuckle vibrates through him. “What would they think when seeing you on all fours in an alley? Perfect little (y/n) crying from how good my cock makes her feel; how would you ever live that down? You think Shikamaru would ever give you the slightest bit of attention after that?” 

Letting go of your hair, a knee between your thighs pushed them further apart while you balanced yourself on your hands. The itching feeling that someone could see or be watching from a distance burns brighter than the pain in your knees. The swollen tip of his cock prods your already glistening entrance; you bite down on your lip to stop any form of a whine from slipping out. You swallow down the nerves as his hand leaves your hair to slip around your throat; the silent plea that he wouldn’t make this difficult left the moment his hips slammed into yours, his hand tightening on your throat, restraining the scream that threatened to bubble out. He gave you no time to adjust, his hand leaving your throat and falling to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh so tight as he slammed into you that you knew bruises would be there by morning. 

You can’t help but glance up, fearing that any of your friends could leave the bar at any time and pass by, seeing you in the most compromising position you feel like you’ve been in. The subtle feeling that there’s a pair of eyes on the two of you grows larger while you scan around. No one has passed by the entrance, and this feeling could only be explained by you being scared of getting caught. 

Sasuke’s breathy grunts found your ears, and a pang of alarm shot right through you as he was the one making noise. The subtle sound of skin slapping skin makes you even more fearful. The coil in your stomach is already winding tight; the quieter you have to become, the more your pussy grips him. You clench around him, pussy squeezing for dear life. Your nails dig into the ground beneath you, knuckles turning white. 

“Oh, God…” You pant, dropping your head down between your shoulders. The sounds of everyone’s voices can be heard in the distance, and you try desperately to focus on anything other than the impending orgasm that’s slowly building up. 

Sasuke shifts, bringing his hand in between your legs and fingers quickly to find your clit, rubbing quick little circles. You bite down hard on your lip, the silvery taste of metallic dancing on your tongue from allowing the moan that threatened to escape. No, You won’t give him the satisfaction of making you cum, especially this fast. You grab his hand to stop his fingers and feel his hand that was once placed on your waist slide across your skin and reach back up to your throat, drawing your back flush to his chest, knees digging deeper into the gravel on the ground and seemingly reaching deeper within you, a desperate whine left your lips as your eyes faintly rolled back. “Stop me from making you cum, and I swear to god, you’re going to regret it.” He growls while tightening his grip on your throat and bringing his other hand back to your clit. His hips snapped into you even deeper while he assaulted your clit. You struggle to gasp as the coil in you snaps; your body shakes as you lean back into him more, pushing him even deeper that you swear you see stars. You spasmed as you dug your nails into the hand that held your throat while he continued to pound into you. 

He was chasing his own release, and the way he felt like you two would be caught at any moment spurred him on even more. He knew tonight was a lot, even on his standards of fucking you, but the way your pussy was fluttering around him, the deeper he got, and the rougher he became, he couldn’t stop. Your walls clenched around him, climax dragging out as your pleasure was heightened as he fucked into you; your name tumbled off of his lips before he bit into your shoulder, muffling the sinful moan he released as he came. You both fell forward, barely catching yourselves before hitting the ground, with heavy breaths syncing with one another while you catch your wit on what you two just did. 

The feeling of someone watching you never did go away. 

The angry pair of eyes attached to the redhead at the back end of the alleyway never left you two, either. 

network: @enchantedforest-network

[thedemoninme141]

Ugly Sweater Party (Set in the "Not a bad day" universe)

Summary: Enid orchestrates an "Ugly Sweater Party" where Wednesday's jealousy takes over.

Parings: Wednesday X Female Reader. Theme: Fluff! Set in the "before dating" period. Wordcount: 4k

Warnings: Jealous Wednesday? Hot-cocoa-Burn??? Cringe Romance!!

Dedicating this work to @blue-because-no-yellow

“So, hear me out, guys! An ugly sweater party! Like, before Christmas break. I’ve been looking at ideas online, and it’s just soooo fun! We could have contests for the ugliest sweater, snacks, music. Oh, and hot chocolate! Lots and lots of hot chocolate. Doesn’t that sound amazing?” Enid chirped.

Ajax blinked slowly, clearly still waking up. “Wait, so… everyone wears ugly sweaters and… that’s it?”

“Not just that! There’s music, games, maybe a contest for the ugliest sweater. We’ll decorate a space with string lights and make it festive!” Enid’s eyes practically sparkled. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

"What's the deal with the ugly sweaters, though? Why not just regular sweaters?" Ajax asked.

"Because!" Enid exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Ugly sweaters are festive and hilarious. It's a Christmas tradition!"

Yoko, sipping her coffee, said. "I don't do tacky."

"Yoko, you wear sunglasses indoors," Bianca quipped.

"Exactly." Yoko said, smirking.

“You know what, this can be fun if done right. Besides, who doesn’t love ugly sweaters and snacks?” Divina chimed in.

“A normal human being,” Wednesday muttered flatly.

Enid ignored her. “Come on, it’s not like we have to take it seriously or anything! It’s just an excuse to hang out and, you know, do something festive for once. Right, Eugene?” She turned to the boy, who had been quite.

Eugene adjusted his glasses, looking sheepish. “Uh, I guess it sounds kinda cool. As long as there are snacks…”

“There will be plenty of snacks, Eugene,” Enid assured him before turning to Kent. “What about you?”

Kent shrugged. “I’m in. Sounds chill. Plus, I’ve got this old sweater with Santa surfing on a shark. It’s perfect.”

“See? Everyone loves it!” Enid threw her arms up in triumph, beaming around the table. “Well, almost everyone.”

Bianca sighed. “Even if we wanted to, where are we going to throw a party like that? We’d need space, like a lot of space."

“What about the forest clearing?” Eugene suggested, “We could string up lights in the trees.”

“Yeah, because freezing to death sounds so festive,” Bianca said.

Enid’s blondeness didn't waver down. Enid turned toward Wednesday expectantly. “What about you, Willa? Do you know a place?”

“I am neither interested in your puerile event. Do whatever you want. Just leave me out of your hideous party.”

“What party?”

Wednesday’s posture stiffened immediately. Her grip on her fork tightened as she glanced up, only to find you approaching the table. You carried your tray with that infuriatingly warm smile on your face, the one that made her chest feel like it was simultaneously imploding and catching fire.

You slid into an empty seat beside Eugene, your curious eyes scanning the group. “What’s all the fuss about?”

Enid’s face lit up as if Christmas had arrived early. “Oh my gosh, okay, so I’m planning an ugly sweater party! Everyone wears the tackiest sweaters they can find, and we’ll have games and hot cocoa and, like, a contest for the ugliest one. Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

You laughed softly, and Wednesday’s pulse quickened. She hated how much she noticed the subtle curve of your lips. It was maddening.

“Sounds interesting,” you said, your smile lingering.

Wednesday’s jaw tightened. Interesting? Why did you have to find it interesting? And why did that single word make her want to throw herself into the abyss?

The group continued discussing but Wednesday heard none of it. Her focus was on you—the way you rested your chin on your hand, the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. She’d planned to completely ignore this party nonsense, but now? Your involvement complicated everything.

“Where are we even going to host this?” Divina asked again, bringing Wednesday out of her spiral.

Enid groaned, throwing her hands up. “Ugh, I don’t know! There’s got to be somewhere big enough that we won’t get in trouble.”

“You could ask Principal Weems for the common room,” Kent suggested, though his tone made it clear he didn’t think it was a great idea.

“She’d never go for it,” Bianca said. “Not unless you can somehow convince her it’s educational.”

“Educational?” Enid snorted. “What am I supposed to say? That ugly sweaters teach math?”

The table erupted in laughter, but Wednesday remained silent, her mind racing. She could feel your gaze on her, curious and patient. It was unbearable.

Before she realized what she was doing, she spoke.

“The Gates Mansion.”

The group fell silent, turning to look at her in surprise.

“What?” Enid asked.

“You can host your ridiculous party at the Gates Mansion,” Wednesday said, her tone clipped.

“Wait, are you serious?” Ajax asked. “Isn’t that place, like… haunted or something?”

“The hyde is gone. Crackstone is gone. Thornhill is gone,” Wednesday replied matter-of-factly. “It’s nothing but an old, decrepit house now.”

Enid’s eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh, that might work! Weems would never find out if we do something there and we could totally make it festive with some cleaning and lights! This is going to be so cool!”

“You’re going to need more than cleaning,” Yoko said. “That place is a wreck.”

“And terrifying,” Eugene added.

“Exactly why I’m going to need someone brave and crazy to help me clean it up!” Enid declared.

The entire group turned to Wednesday , even you were watching her, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

Wednesday sighed deeply, rolling her eyes. “Fine. But don’t expect me to wear one of those abominable sweaters.”

Enid squealed in delight, clapping her hands. “This is going to be the best ugly sweater party ever!”

Wednesday cast a fleeting glance at you.

She wasn’t sure whether to curse you or thank you for making her day infinitely more complicated.

.

"Uh… are we sure about this?” Ajax asked, glancing at the dilapidated structure. “It looks like the setting of every horror movie ever.”

“Relax, Ajax,” Enid chirped, her voice brimming with forced cheer.

“Wednesday and I have been here before. Just a big, spooky, totally-not-haunted house.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” Ajax muttered, inching closer to Enid as if proximity could protect him.

“The last time we were here, we were chased by the hyde. You know, a grotesque, murderous monster with claws designed to flay flesh.” Wednesday was behind them, getting dragged into this mess by Enid.

Ajax stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. “Wait—what?”

“Wednesday!” Enid shot Wednesday a sharp glare. “You’re not helping.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Wednesday replied, her tone clipped.

Enid rolled her eyes and turned to Ajax, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Look, I promise it’s safe. The hyde’s gone, and Wednesday’s just being dramatic.” She shot her roommate a pointed look.

Ajax hesitated, glancing at the mansion again. “Uh.. I think I forgot something back at Nevermore…”

Enid nudged Ajax forward. “Come on, don’t bail on me now. Besides, we need someone tall to hang the lights. Right, Willa?”

Wednesday didn’t answer. She was too busy glaring at the mansion, as though willing it to collapse and save her from this pointless endeavor.

“Alright, team, let’s split up and conquer! Ajax, you can start by clearing the cobwebs. Wends and I will tackle the furniture.”

“I didn’t agree to this,” Wednesday said flatly.

Enid ignored her. “Come on, it’s for the party! And think of all the fun everyone’s going to have. Especially you-know-who.”

Wednesday’s jaw tightened.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Enid said dramatically, holding a hand to her chest. “I just didn’t get enough help with the setup, and that’s why this party isn’t up to your standards.”

Wednesday’s glare could have turned Enid to stone. She knew exactly what her roommate was doing, and worse.... it was working. Begrudgingly, she picked up a dust-covered chair and moved it to the corner of the room.

Enid winked at Ajax, who looked more confused than anything. “See? Teamwork makes the dream work.”

The hours dragged on, filled with Ajax’s muttered complaints, Enid’s chatter, and the occasional sound of Wednesday grinding her teeth. As they worked, the mansion slowly transformed. The dust was swept away, the windows sparkled, and strings of lights began to illuminate the once-shadowy corners.

By the end of the day, the Gates Mansion was looking almost festive—if you squinted and ignored the peeling wallpaper and the leftover cobwebs.

🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸

Wednesday stood near the fireplace, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her posture was as rigid as ever, her expression blank. But inwardly, she was waging a battle against her gag reflex. Everywhere she looked, there was an explosion of color—garish reds, obnoxious greens, hideous yellows. And the sweaters. The sweaters.

Her own attire was simple, deliberate, and true to her identity: a plain, black sweater devoid of any embellishment. It was the only concession she had made to Enid’s ridiculous demands.

Her circle of idiots had gathered on mismatched sofas dragged into a semi-circle at one corner, all chattering as Enid zipped around with an energy that could power a small town. Ajax trailed behind her, struggling under the weight of a tray filled with cups of hot cocoa.

“Wednesday!” Enid called, waving her over. “Get over here and grab some hot cocoa before it’s all gone. Ajax nearly spilled half of it on the way in.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes as she stepped closer with deliberate slowness, as if approaching a live grenade.

“Isn’t this just the best?” Enid beamed, handing her a mug. “I mean, look at us! Ugly sweaters, hot cocoa, and friends. It's like a cute dream!"

“More like a nightmare,” Wednesday muttered, eyeing the mug suspiciously. Still, she accepted it, if only to keep her hands busy and distract herself from the urge to claw her eyes out.

Bianca smirked from her spot on the sofa. “You’re just mad because you couldn’t resist joining in. Look at you, wearing a sweater like the rest of us.”

“This is not a sweater,” Wednesday corrected, her tone sharp. “It’s a black, woolen garment devoid of festivity.”

“Still counts, anyway, guys! It’s time to decide who’s wearing the ugliest sweater. We need a system!” Enid chirped.

“Can’t we just vote?” Ajax suggested, taking a cautious sip of his cocoa.

“No way,” Enid replied. “That’s too boring. We need something fun. Like, a panel of judges or—oh! Maybe we each explain our sweater, and the group decides.”

“Or,” Bianca drawled, raising a brow, “we pick someone who’s brutally honest to a fault and let them decide.”

As one, the group turned to Wednesday.

Her grip on the mug tightened as every pair of eyes locked onto her. Enid was practically bouncing with excitement. “Wednesday, you’re perfect for this! You’ve got the sharpest eye. Come on, roast us.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No.”

“Oh, come on!” Enid pleaded. “You’re perfect for this.”

Bianca smirked. “Well, we’ve finally found a use for Wednesday. Come on, Addams. Judge us.”

“Fine,” she said. “But don’t cry when I destroy your fragile egos.”

“Yay!” Enid cheered, clapping her hands. “Okay, go!”

Wednesday stood, her gaze sweeping over the group. She started with Yoko, her tone clipped and precise. “Yoko’s sweater is an abomination of neon and flashing lights. It looks less like a holiday garment and more like a warning sign for an approaching biohazard.”

Yoko snorted, clearly amused, while the others burst into laughter.

Wednesday’s gaze landed on Enid. She paused, taking in the jingling bells and riot of color. “And Enid… Your sweater is less a garment and more a crime scene. It’s a murder of taste and decency, except crime scenes look beautiful, yours is hideous. ”

Enid gasped in offense, clutching her chest. “How dare you? This is festive perfection!”

Next victim was Ajax, “Your sweater is an assault on the senses. The color palette suggests that it was designed by someone experiencing a particularly vivid fever dream. And the snowman? You know what, I take that back, I actually like this sweater, that abomination of a snowman can work in a horror movie."

“Thanks, I think?” Ajax said nervously.

Bianca crossed her arms, waiting for her turn. Wednesday obliged. “Your sweater is a desperate attempt to marry elegance with obnoxiousness. The glitter alone is enough to give a child a seizure. What do you think it is? The Raven? Your sweater screams, ‘Look at me,’ which, I suppose, is your specialty.”

Bianca raised an eyebrow. “Touché.”

Finally, Wednesday turned to Eugene. She studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. “Your sweater is… acceptable.”

Eugene blinked in surprise. “Wait, is that—was that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Wednesday said flatly.

“What about me?”

Wednesday’s head snapped toward you. You were standing near the cocoa station, holding a mug and smiling at her. Your sweater was a disaster—neon orange with a pattern of candy canes, snowflakes, and . It looked like it had been knitted by a maniac with no sense of restraint.

“Go on,” you said, your tone teasing. “Roast me. I can take it. Tear mine apart.” Say what now?

Wednesday opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her mind raced. Hideous. Obscene. A crime against humanity. The words were there, perfectly formed. Yet when she looked at you, all she could think was—

Beautiful.

“Well?” Enid prodded, her grin mischievous. “What’s wrong, Willa? Cat got your tongue?”

Wednesday’s jaw tightened. She could dissect the flaws in a masterpiece with ease, but when it came to you, even wearing that, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything remotely cruel.

“Your sweater…” she began, her voice faltering. “It’s… functional.”

The group failed to stifle their laughter.

“Functional? You said all that for mine and you call her's functional? Come on Wednesday, that's the contest winner right there!” Bianca teased, Wednesday only shot her a glare.

Sensing Wednesday's growing unease, you quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, this cocoa is amazing. Who made it?”

Ajax perked up, raising his hand. “That’d be me.”

You smiled at him, and Wednesday’s chest tightened. “It’s really good. Nice work.”

Ajax grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. My grandma taught me how to make it. Secret family recipe.”

"You have to teach me someday." You took another sip, your eyes twinkling with genuine appreciation. Wednesday clenched her fists at her sides, the mug in her hand threatening to crack under the pressure of her grip. The warmth of your smile directed at Ajax did something unexplainable to Wednesday’s insides. It was irritating and fascinating all at once.

And so she found herself back in her spot beside the fireplace, trying to look as composed as always.

Her eyes, however, betrayed her. They followed you.

You were by the snack table, chatting with one of the stoners—what was his name? Nate? Nick? It didn’t matter. He leaned closer to say something, and you laughed, the sound a soft chime that seemed to echo in Wednesday’s ears far too loudly, it was maddening.

And that boy, with his messy hair and an air of unearned confidence, was soaking it all in. He said something else, and you giggled again, nudging his arm playfully. Wednesday’s fingers twitched. She imagined reaching for her knife, a comforting thought, though regrettably impractical in this setting.

“Wednesday!” Enid’s chirpy voice broke through her thoughts. She turned her head sharply, meeting her roommate’s bright, oblivious grin. “Isn’t this amazing? Everyone’s having such a good time!”

Wednesday glanced at the room, her gaze flickering back to you before she responded. “I fail to see how this qualifies as ‘amazing.’ ”

“Oh, come on! Look at everyone, laughing, drinking cocoa, making memories! Even you’re not glaring as much as usual. That’s progress.” Enid nudged her playfully, earning another withering glare.

Ajax appeared, holding a tray of other snacks. “Hey, Enid, where do you want these?”

“Over by the snack table!” Enid directed. Then, turning to the group, she clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, people! It’s been super fun hanging out, but it’s time to get your pairs ready because we’re dancing next!”

A collective murmur rose, some students cheering while others groaned.

“Dancing?” Bianca raised an eyebrow, sipping her cocoa. “You didn’t say anything about dancing, Sinclair.”

“I did too!” Enid protested. “Well… maybe I hinted at it. Anyway, it’s happening, so suck it up!”

“Uh, what if we can’t dance?” a random student yelled.

“You sway awkwardly and call it a day,” Enid quipped and dashed toward her barely put together DJ booth to adjust the music while everyone started paring. Wednesday remained by the fireplace, her gaze locked on you.

Nate-nick stepped closer toward you, his posture overly casual, and Wednesday’s fingers curled into fists.

“So, Y/N,” he began, scratching the back of his head. “You’re, like, really cool. Wanna, uh, be my partner for the dancing?”

Wednesday didn’t even wait to hear your answer. Spinning on her heel, she made her way to Ajax, who was setting down the last of the cocoa mugs.

“Ajax,” she said, her voice flat but laced with an edge that made him flinch.

“Uh, yeah, Wednesday?” he asked nervously, straightening up.

“I need more hot cocoa. Boiling.”

Ajax blinked, clearly confused. “Boiling? I mean, sure, but isn’t the regular batch warm enough?"

“Did I stutter?” Wednesday’s dark eyes bore into him, and Ajax quickly held up his hands in surrender.

“Nope. Boiling cocoa, coming right up.” He scrambled to prepare a fresh batch, throwing nervous glances over his shoulder just preparing himself to dodge any flying knives. When it was ready, he handed her a mug. The liquid inside was steaming.

“Here you go,” Ajax said, still baffled. “Didn’t think you’d like cocoa this much… careful tho."

Wednesday’s lips curled into a smirk, one that sent a shiver down Ajax’s spine. As he watched her turn and walk away, realization dawned on him. He quickly busied himself with something else, wisely choosing not to question her about whatever she planned to do with this acid he just gave her.

Without hesitation, Wednesday approached the boy who had dared to ask you to dance. He was still by your side, oblivious to the doom looming behind him. With calculated precision, Wednesday "tripped," her hand jerking just enough to send the scalding cocoa splashing onto his arm and chest.

“AHHH! HOT!” He yelped, flailing as the cocoa soaked through. His friends quickly gathered around him, their faces a mixture of shock and fear.

“How clumsy of me,” Wednesday said flatly, not bothering to mask her lack of remorse.

His friends exchanged nervous glances, none daring to confront her. They helped him toward the kitchen to clean up, leaving you standing there, bewildered.

“Wednesday,” you said, stepping closer. “Was that… really an accident?”

“Of course,” she replied, her voice calm as ever. “Gravity is unpredictable.”

You sighed, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been called worse,” she deadpanned.

The music started up behind you, and the others began pairing off and moving to the makeshift dance floor. The room was alive with laughter and chatter, but you and Wednesday stood apart from it all. You glanced around before looking back at Wednesday. “Come with me.” It wasn’t a question. For a moment, Wednesday hesitated, her mind racing with a thousand reasons to say no. But instead, she found herself nodding. “Lead the way.”

Wednesday followed you up the grand staircase. She didn’t bother asking where you were leading her, she didn’t particularly care. If you wanted privacy, she would oblige. If this was another attempt to pry some semblance of emotion out of her, you would fail. Or so she told herself.

You pushed open a door at the end of the hall, revealing a spacious room bathed in moonlight streaming through large, arched windows.

Turning to face her, you crossed your arms, “Well, considering you’ve likely left my dance partner with third-degree burns…”

Wednesday tilted her head, “I fail to see how that is my problem.”

“Oh, it is.” You stepped closer, your voice softening. “Because now, you have to take his place.”

Her eyebrows rose, a rare flicker of surprise crossing her otherwise stoic face. “I fail to see how that logic tracks.”

“You caused the incident. You take responsibility.” Your tone left no room for argument, but before she could protest further, you added, “But I’m kind enough to spare you the humiliation of doing it downstairs. We’ll dance here. Privately.”

The word privately settled uncomfortably in her chest, both a warning and something she couldn't recognize.

“I’m even letting you have a say in the music,” you said, glancing at her. “Any requests?”

“Something haunting,” she replied without hesitation, the corner of her mouth twitching into what might’ve been a smirk.

You hummed thoughtfully before selecting a piano piece—somber, slow, and emotional. It wasn’t the haunting melody she had hoped for, but it was close enough.

Wednesday stepped closer, her posture rigid. “I don’t slow dance.”

“Well, tonight you do,” you said with a teasing smile, holding out your hand.

She stared at it as if it were an unfamiliar weapon, something both intriguing and dangerous. After a moment of hesitation, she took it. Your fingers were warm, soft against the coolness of her own, and she tried to ignore the way her pulse quickened at the contact.

You guided her hand to your waist and placed your hand on her shoulder, the touch sending a ripple of something unfamiliar through her. She mirrored your movements stiffly at first, her steps awkward as the two of you began to sway to the music.

“Relax, Wednesday,” you said softly, your voice carrying a warmth that somehow made Wednesday feel chills.

“I am relaxed,” she countered, though the tension in her shoulders betrayed her words.

You chuckled, a sound that grated on her nerves and yet inexplicably soothed them. Slowly, her body began to follow the rhythm, her steps becoming less mechanical. She focused on the music, letting it guide her movements, but her attention kept drifting back to you.

Your eyes were soft, your smile easy, and the way you looked at her—as if she were something precious—made her chest feel something she didn’t fully understand. She had always prided herself on her ability to remain detached, to keep the world at arm’s length. But with you, that distance seemed to collapse, leaving her exposed and vulnerable in a way she found both infuriating and intoxicating.

As the dance continued, the space between you grew smaller. She could feel the faint scent of whatever perfume you wore, and it was all-consuming. Her usually sharp mind felt dull, clouded by your presence.

This was dangerous. You were dangerous. Not in the conventional sense, of course, you posed no physical threat. But the way you made her feel, the way you seemed to slip past every wall she had built around herself, was a danger of an entirely different kind. She didn’t like it. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

And then you rested your head on her shoulder.

Wednesday froze, her body stiffening before she forced herself to relax. Her heart, that stubborn organ she often dismissed as a mere biological necessity, pounded erratically in her chest. She didn’t understand it, this inexplicable pull toward you, but she knew she didn’t want it to end.

You sighed softly, your breath warm against her neck. “Thanks for this, Wednesday. I know it’s not your thing, but… it means a lot.”

Her other free hand, which had been hovering awkwardly at her side, hesitated before resting lightly against your back. The gesture was hesitant, almost uncertain, but it felt… right. Too right.

She didn’t know how long you stayed like that, swaying gently in the moonlight. All she knew was the warmth of your body, the softness of your breath, and this, whatever this was...

When the music finally faded, you lifted your head and met her gaze. There was something unspoken in your eyes, something she couldn’t quite name but felt all the same. She didn’t say anything, and neither did you. The silence was enough.

As you stepped back, breaking the spell, she felt an ache she couldn’t place. You smiled at her, soft and genuine, and she found herself returning it—just barely.

“Thanks for the dance,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, her expression as stoic as ever, but her mind was anything but calm.

As you turned and left the room, she felt something in her hand, a small note, "Call me sometimes Wednesday"

The faintest trace of a smile tugged at Wednesday's lips.

Not a bad party, not bad at all.

[This was so fun to write, thought you guys need some fluff after the heartbreak from the last oneshot]

[A VERY IMPORTANT REQUEST: A close friend of mine @blue-because-no-yellow is leaving for a few months on her basic training. So I would be really grateful to you guys if you wished her some goodluck in the comments! Like really, sometimes, the kind words of strangers become something to remember during hard times in the future...]

[WORKLIST]

[soulofapatrick]

Lessons in Flight - Cassian x female reader 

Summary: Cassian teaches you to fly 

Words: 4K

Warnings: none really 

Y/N’s POV

The wind roars around me, threatening to tear me off the cliff before I even have a chance to embarrass myself. My toes curl in my boots as I glance nervously at the abyss below. Why did I agree to this? Oh, right. Cassian.

He stands a few feet away, the picture of ease and confidence. His massive wings are spread just enough to keep the wind from knocking him over, their black membranes catching the light in a way that’s unfairly mesmerising.

Not that the wings are the only mesmerising thing about him. Cassian is all golden-brown skin and lean, powerful muscle, with black hair that brushes his shoulders in wild, wind-tangled waves. His hazel eyes, sharp and glittering, keep flicking to me, and his rugged, devastatingly handsome face is pulled into the smirk that always sends my heart stumbling over itself.

“Are you planning to sprout wings today, or should I get a chair?” he calls, his deep voice cutting through the wind.

“Should I not be panicking right now?” I snap back, crossing my arms to keep from flailing. “Because I feel like I should absolutely be panicking.”

His grin widens, and I hate how good it looks on him. “No panicking allowed. You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

“Wrinkles are the least of my concerns, Cassian!”

He strolls closer, every step radiating that stupid, effortless confidence, and stops a breath away. His wings shift slightly, framing him in a way that makes him look impossibly larger. “Hey,” he says softly, leaning down just enough to meet my gaze. “I’m not going to let you fall.”

The sincerity in his tone knocks some of the breath from my lungs, and I scowl to cover it. “You say that, but you also laughed when I tripped on flat ground yesterday.”

“That was funny,” he says, completely unapologetic.

I shove at his chest—not that he budges an inch—and take a step back, glaring up at him. “You’re the worst.”

“And the best teacher you’ve got,” he counters, his smirk returning full force. “Now, focus. The wings are in you—you just have to bring them out.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter. “You didn’t have to grow yours in front of an audience.”

Cassian barks a laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Trust me, if I could’ve skipped my adolescent flying attempts, I would have. Ask Rhys or Az—‘crash landing’ was basically my middle name for a decade.”

I glance at him, caught off guard by the admission, and find his hazel eyes sparkling with humour. The warmth in his expression is infectious, and against all odds, I laugh.

“There’s the smile,” he murmurs, his voice dipping just enough to make my cheeks flush.

I groan, scrubbing at my face. “Fine, let’s get this over with.”

“Atta girl.”

I close my eyes and reach for the power thrumming beneath my skin. It feels alive, like a heartbeat, and as I focus, I picture wings—strong, sleek, and powerful.

The change happens faster than I expect. My back burns, like fire racing down my spine, and then—whoosh. Something bursts out behind me, and suddenly, I’m a lot heavier.

“Oh no,” I gasp as the weight of the wings sends me stumbling. My knees buckle, and my feet slip on the edge of the cliff.

“Whoa, whoa!” Cassian’s hands are there in an instant, strong and steady, gripping my waist and pulling me forward before I can tumble into oblivion.

I slam into his chest, and my brain short-circuits.

His body is solid, impossibly warm, and the scent of leather, pine, and something distinctly Cassian wraps around me, making my heart pound. His hands don’t move, firm on my waist, and I can feel the callouses on his fingers through my clothes.

“You alright?” he asks, his voice close and rough.

I look up—and immediately wish I hadn’t. His hazel eyes are inches from mine, bright with concern and amusement, and his stupid, perfect mouth is curved in a small smile.

“I—uh—yeah,” I stammer, trying to ignore the heat crawling up my neck.

His grin deepens, his thumbs brushing against my sides in a way that makes my breath hitch. “Big wings for such a little thing. No wonder you almost toppled over.”

“Shut up,” I mutter, shoving weakly at him.

He doesn’t let go. Of course, he doesn’t. Instead, his wings curl slightly, blocking the wind and cocooning us in a way that feels too intimate.

“You’re doing great,” he says softly, his tone free of teasing for once. “They’re heavy, but you’ll get used to it. You’re stronger than you think.”

The sincerity in his voice makes something warm and stupid bloom in my chest, and I immediately squash it. I step back, forcing some distance between us, and flex my shoulders experimentally. My new wings twitch, the tips dragging against the ground, but they move.

“There you go,” Cassian says, his grin returning. “See? Not so hard.”

“Not hard?” I echo, glaring at him. “I almost died!”

“And I saved you,” he says, winking. “You’re welcome.”

I groan, dragging a hand over my face as he starts laughing. But even as I glare at him, my lips twitch upward. Cassian may be insufferable, but he’s my insufferable—and for now, I think I’ll keep him.

The weight of my wings feels too much to bear. Every muscle in my back trembles under the strain as I try, and fail, to lift them. No matter how hard I focus, how badly I want to prove myself, they remain heavy, limp at my sides like the dead weight of a curse. Cassian’s hands, warm and solid against my hips, ground me, steadying my shaky posture. I can feel the strength in him, the way his hands hold me just tight enough, the heat radiating off him like he’s some kind of furnace. He doesn’t even seem to struggle with his wings, his massive, black ones spread wide like an all-encompassing shield against the world, effortlessly cutting through the wind.

“Focus, sweetheart,” Cassian murmurs, voice low, the smirk pulling at his lips, his hazel eyes twinkling with that teasing glint that never fails to set my pulse racing. “You’ve got this. Just a little higher.”

The gentle teasing, the way his hands linger on my waist, have me stumbling, but I force my shoulders to relax and dig deep for the strength I know is buried inside me. With a mental push, I feel the wings twitch, straining, and then—boom. I manage to lift them halfway. The victory is short-lived.

The weight of them—massive and far heavier than I expected—slams down again. My knees buckle.

Before I can catch myself, before I even have the chance to fall, Cassian’s hands are at my waist, pulling me toward him, yanking me against his body. I almost lose my breath from the force of it, my chest pressing into his hard chest, my forehead colliding with the smooth leather of his shoulder.

The impact knocks the air out of me, but my heart starts hammering in my chest like I’ve just sprinted a mile. I feel like I'm drowning in the warmth of him, his scent wrapping around me—leather, wood, and that intoxicating smell that’s just him.

His hands stay firmly on my hips, strong, steady, as he mutters, “Careful there, sweetheart. You’re going to make me drop you if you keep stumbling like that.”

I groan, my face pressed against the heat of his chest, unable to hide how flustered I feel, how the proximity to him makes my skin burn. “I’m not the one dropping anyone,” I mutter, my voice muffled against the solid wall of his body.

He chuckles, and I can practically feel the smile on his lips, that devilish grin of his that never fails to make my insides flip. “Liar.”

I pull back slightly, enough to glare up at him, my face still flushed. His hazel eyes gleam down at me, the playful spark in them never once dimming, and I feel like I’m being swept up in his gaze. “You’re impossible,” I mumble.

“Impossible?” His lips twitch. “More like irresistible.”

I scowl at him, but before I can come up with a decent retort, his hands slide down my back, tracing a path along the edges of my wings. I freeze. The contact is light, but it's like fire—his fingers grazing the leather of my armour just above where my wings meet my back. The spot is sensitive, like he’s touching a nerve directly.

A breath catches in my throat. Gods. The way his fingers linger, caressing so delicately that it’s almost torturous, sends a pulse of warmth straight to my core. The soft pressure of his hand against the base of my wings has my pulse spiking.

I can’t help it. I let out a soft, embarrassingly breathy sound, a noise I couldn’t have stopped if I tried.

Cassian’s entire body goes still, as if he’s just felt that reaction, and I hear the smallest, most dangerous chuckle rumble from his chest.

“Oh?” His voice drops lower, sliding into something rich and teasing. “Sensitive, are we?”

My face burns hotter than I thought possible. I open my mouth, but no words come out. What was that noise? Why does he have to be so close?

His fingers stay there, tracing the spot where the wings meet my back, moving deliberately, caressing me in a way that feels too intimate for someone who’s supposed to be teaching me. I try to step back, but my body feels like it’s made of stone.

The heat floods my skin, and I feel my breath become shallow. I know exactly what Azriel meant when he spoke about the wings and their sensitivity, but hearing him say it felt like a joke at the time.

Now? Now, I get it. Azriel wasn’t talking about some innocent touch. He meant this—this electric, nerve-shattering sensation.

Cassian’s fingers linger for a moment longer before he finally pulls away, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. “You know, you make the best sounds when you’re flustered. Just a hint of pleasure mixed with frustration.”

I barely manage to keep my knees from buckling. “You—”

But my words fail me, and I’m left standing there like an idiot, heart racing, face flushed, my wings now feeling like they might break my back in half from the weight and sensitivity.

“You’re not mad at me for that, are you?” Cassian’s voice softens, the teasing edge slipping into something more serious, though still warm. “Because I’m not letting you go until I know you’re alright.”

The softness in his tone makes something inside me tighten, and I find myself leaning into him instinctively, my breath still unsteady. “I’m fine,” I murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “Just... be careful next time.”

His eyes flicker with something darker now, a simmering heat that matches the one flaring inside me. His hands find their way back to my waist, holding me closer than I expect, and I let him, my body melting into his.

“Promise,” he says quietly, his voice full of that strange, unspoken something that makes my heart flutter and my stomach twist. “You’re safe with me.”

But as his fingers graze my back again, a sharp shudder runs through me, and I know that I’m not entirely safe—at least, not when he’s this close, this aware of every inch of me.

The moment Cassian’s fingers brush against the base of my wings again, it feels like everything inside me locks into place. My breath hitches in my throat, my entire body tightening, and I feel like I’m going to melt from the pressure. That spot, the one right where my wings meet my back—it burns with such a raw intensity that I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but focus on the heat spreading through me.

I try to pull away, but my body doesn’t cooperate. Instead, I find my hands gripping the back of his neck instinctively, my fingers threading through the soft, dark strands of his hair, anchoring myself to him. It’s like I need him to hold me up, to stop me from crumbling under the weight of this overwhelming sensation. His arm is solid beneath my fingers, and I clutch onto it for balance, my pulse hammering through me. I feel the way my body reacts to his proximity, the way every inch of me wants him closer, even as my mind screams to stop.

Cassian is quiet now, his breath shallow against my temple, but I know exactly what he’s doing. His fingers are so damn careful, moving deliberately over that spot again. It’s not an accident; he knows exactly what it’s doing to me.

A shudder wracks through me, and without thinking, I squeeze my thighs together, desperate to keep some semblance of control, to stop myself from doing something stupid.

The air between us thickens, heavy with something undeniable. The teasing, the flirtation—it’s all been leading to this moment. I can feel it. My heart races, but it’s not just from the physical sensations coursing through my veins. It’s the way Cassian’s hands linger, the heat radiating from him, the tension coiling tighter with every passing second.

“Cassian,” I breathe, my voice barely more than a whisper.

His name feels like a prayer on my lips, and he responds by tilting my chin up with the lightest pressure of his fingers, his eyes locked onto mine with that wicked, smouldering gaze that makes my chest tighten. His thumb traces the line of my jaw, slow, deliberate, like he’s savouring the moment.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, full of heat and something more dangerous. “I think it’s time we stop pretending.”

I’m dizzy from the tension, from the way he’s holding me together with nothing more than his touch. His thumb presses into the soft skin beneath my ear, and I tilt my head slightly, giving him silent permission. And then, before I can even process what’s happening, his lips crash into mine.

The kiss is explosive. There’s nothing gentle about it—no soft buildup, no teasing. It’s hungry, desperate, as if we’ve both been waiting for this moment to snap, and now that it has, nothing in the world is going to stop it.

His hands slide up to my waist, pulling me flush against him. I can feel the muscles of his chest, the heat of his skin through the layers of armour, and it only makes me ache more, ache for something deeper, something more than this teasing, more than this fire burning between us.

My fingers tighten in his hair, tugging him closer, wanting more of him. His mouth moves against mine with an intensity that steals the air from my lungs, and I give into it, give into the way his kiss tastes like a promise and a dare. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but respond to him. My body knows what it wants.

Cassian’s hands slip lower, grazing over the curve of my hips, and I gasp into his mouth, feeling the way my wings flare, trembling with need, with desire, with a desperation that matches his. Cassian’s hands slide down to the backs of my thighs, his fingers warm and firm as he lifts me with a fluid, effortless motion. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and I gasp at the shift in position, feeling his hard, solid body pressed fully against me. I can’t focus on anything but the heat of him—his chest against mine, his breath fanning across my neck, the way his hands mold my body to his, like I’m the most important thing in the world to him.

His lips leave mine only long enough to kiss a trail along my jaw, each press of his mouth sending a jolt of electricity through me. He moves to my neck, his mouth hot and insistent, as if he’s marking me, claiming me in ways that no one else could ever dare to. His teeth scrape my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

A deep, breathless gasp leaves my throat as his lips find the sensitive spot just below my ear, sucking hard enough that I know I’ll have a bruise there by morning. The thought does something to me—something primal, something hungry. I know the marks will be impossible to hide, but it doesn’t matter. The way he’s kissing me, the way his hands are holding me so securely, so possessively—it makes me want to lose myself in him, to let go of every last shred of control.

Cassian groans against my skin, and his hands slide up under the leather of my jacket, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of my back, sending shudders of pleasure racing through my body. His lips trail lower, sucking and nibbling at my neck, leaving dark, heated marks that make my pulse thunder in my ears. My back hits a tree, and the rough bark bites into my skin, but I don’t care—he’s here, his body pressed so tightly against mine that there’s nowhere for my thoughts to go except him.

“Cassian,” I breathe, my voice shaky and full of want. I tighten my grip on his neck, pulling him closer, needing more, needing to feel the weight of him against me in a way that I can’t deny anymore.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with desire, his lips swollen from our kiss. He grins, that devilish smirk of his spreading across his face. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough, “I’ve wanted this for so damn long.”

His words send a shockwave through me, and before I can process it, he presses his lips back to mine in a kiss that’s even more desperate, more heated than before. His hands move with purpose now—one sliding up to cup the back of my head, tilting it just enough so he can deepen the kiss. The other moves lower again, running down the length of my spine, his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin just above my waist, making me gasp into his mouth.

I feel like I’m drowning in him—his lips, his hands, his presence. The way his body moves against mine with such raw, unrestrained heat is enough to make my knees weak, to make my body burn in ways I didn’t know were possible. I can’t think, can’t breathe.

The kiss deepens, and I lose myself completely in the sensation of Cassian—his lips, his hands, his heat seeping into every part of me. It’s like there’s nothing else in the world but the two of us, the way our bodies move together in perfect sync, how each touch sends a jolt of pure desire through me. His hands are steady on my body, guiding me with a possessive tenderness that makes my head spin.

But just as the world seems to narrow to only Cassian, I feel it. A soft, almost imperceptible shift deep inside me. Like a pull, like something that’s always been there, quietly waiting for its moment to take shape. The bond. It slides into place like a key turning in a lock, a subtle, undeniable connection that clicks between us.

I can’t explain it—there’s no sudden rush of light, no grand revelation. Just a quiet understanding that settles deep in my chest. It’s like I’ve always known this was coming, like my body has been waiting for this moment, for him. A part of me—the part that’s been holding back, fighting this—finally surrenders.

Cassian feels it too, I’m sure of it. His lips soften on mine, just a fraction, as though he’s caught in the same storm of emotions. Then, just as I’m about to lose myself in the feeling of him, a voice breaks through the haze.

“Really?” Rhys's voice is loud enough to make the trees shudder, his tone dripping with amusement.

Cassian doesn’t break from me, though. His lips stay pressed against mine for a long beat before he pulls away just enough to flash his signature smirk.

“Get over it, Rhys,” Cassian calls over his shoulder, his hand still firmly cupping my waist, holding me flush against the tree like I’m his in ways words can’t even express. He doesn’t even look at Rhys, his attention entirely on me.

I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks at being caught in such a compromising position, and my heart races faster for entirely different reasons now. But even as I try to pull away, Cassian’s grip on me doesn’t loosen, his hand keeping me tethered to him, the strength in his touch unwavering.

Rhys steps into the clearing with his usual cocky grin plastered across his face. He eyes us both, clearly trying to suppress the laughter in his voice. “Didn’t realise you two were so... busy,” he drawls, the teasing edge to his words clear.

Cassian, unbothered, chuckles low in his throat, his hands tightening slightly on my body, but it’s not possessive, it’s playful. “Don’t be such a prude, Rhys.” His voice is laced with sarcasm as he turns his head to smirk back at the High Lord.

And despite the heat between us, the intensity of the moment still hanging in the air, I can’t help but chuckle under my breath, the absurdity of it all hitting me. But the truth is, my pulse is still erratic, my body still humming with Cassian’s touch, with the bond sliding smoothly into place between us, like we’ve both always known it was coming.

Rhys raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, but there’s a hint of concern behind his gaze. “Don’t tell me I’m interrupting something... important.”

I can feel Cassian’s grin widen against my ear, his lips brushing against the side of my neck with a lingering touch. "No, just making sure she doesn't fall off a cliff while I teach her how to fly," he says with that devil-may-care attitude that always makes me weak in the knees. “But feel free to stay and watch.”

Rhys’s smirk falters for a moment, and his eyes narrow. "I'm not watching this." He motions dismissively, but I can see the way he’s fighting to hide his smile. He doesn’t say anything more but gives me a knowing look, a quick glance to Cassian, and then a faint nod.

"Behave yourselves," Rhys finally adds, turning to leave, his boots crunching against the forest floor as he retreats.

Cassian, still grinning like a damn cat that caught the canary, leans in to press his lips against my temple before I can even fully process what just happened. His voice is a low rumble, just for me, as his hands slide a little lower on my waist, pulling me even closer.

“We’ll pick up where we left off when he’s gone,” he whispers against my skin, and even though there’s a teasing quality to his words, there’s an undeniable heat there too. Something that tells me that this—us—is far from over.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

TAGS:

@lilah-asteria @maleficmuse @fanficscuziranout @angelbunny222

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | December 9th-15th 2024

I cannot wait for the Christmas holidays!! Only one week of work left!!

Complete

All The Lights Are Coming On by Sharpbutsoft (BuckysButt)/ @sharpbutsoft (Post-S8A, Christmas | 1K | General): What good is having a key to your best friend’s house if you can’t use it to spread a little holiday magic?

from here on out by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Eddie comes back from Texas | 1,5K | General): Eddie’s been back from Texas for three days, and Buck’s not done being giddy about it.

the sweetest possible lie by Wildehack (tyleet)/ @wildehacked (Future Fic, Pre-Buddie | 2K | General): Chris’s fifteenth birthday falls on a Tuesday, and it couldn’t be more different from last year.

i’ll be home for christmas (if only in my dreams) by wafflesofdoom/ @capseycartwright (Christmas, Eddie goes to Texas | 2K | General): It was a silly thing, Buck had started, right when Eddie first got to El Paso – we’re looking at the same sky, he’d quipped, on one of their nightly Facetime calls. Even when they were far apart from each other, they were still able to look up at the same stars, and if they just remembered that, maybe the distance between El Paso, and Los Angeles, wouldn’t feel so cavernous. That’s what Buck had promised him.

You don’t have to outrun the bear (I’ll fall over for you) by paleredheadinascifi (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): “What the hell was that?” Eddie demands, standing up from where Buck just pushed him onto his ass. “It was gonna hit your head!” “So, what? You thought you’d just volunteer yours instead?” Eddie scoffs. “Yeah,” Buck shrugs. “I have a hard head.” Or, 5 + 1 times Buck stood between Eddie and danger, much to Eddie’s befuddlement.

& such by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (85K | Teen): prompts and spec fics and codas and all the works jumbled mumbled into one place.

Chapter 21. eddie on plane (Post-S8A, 3K)

Mr. Movember by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Hockey AU, Established Buddie | 4K | Explicit): “Why are you staring at me,” Eddie asked with a laugh as they got ready for their game on November 5th. His mustache was already looking thick and sexy, unlike Buck’s which was still a little patchy and definitely too blond to look good right now. “I like the mustache,” Buck said with a shrug, trying (and failing) to sound casual about it. “Oh, you do?” Eddie stopped buttoning his shirt so he could turn around and look at Buck directly instead of in the mirror. “Y-yeah,” Buck couldn’t take his eyes off of it and here in the safety of their bedroom he was allowed to look, so why should he stop. “If you manage to keep out of the box tonight, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me and my mustache.”

slide it in, right to the top by oklahoma/ @queerdiazs (PWP, S8A | 4K | Explicit): “What’s it like?” he asks softly. Buck tips his head to the side and meets Eddie’s eyes, lazy and buzzed and pretty. “What’s what like?” Eddie swallows, face prickling red with heat, and says, “Fucking a man.” The worse taste weird on his tongue, foreign but good. Welcome, like it’s time or something. “What’s it feel like?” - After Buck shows up at Eddie's door with a six pack, Eddie's mind begins to wonder. A bottle of tequila gives him the courage to ask for something he wasn't aware he's been wanting.

‘Cause I Need Touchin’ So Primal by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S8E6: Confessions | 9K | Explicit): “Hey,” Buck says warmly into the phone, tucking it between his shoulder and ear with a smile at his lips. “Fuck,” Eddie muttered harshly into the phone, his voice rough through the receiver. “Eddie?” Buck called out, frowning. He lowered his phone from his ear to check the call, and yeah, still connected, full reception. He raises it back to his ear and catches the tail end of a noise, a choked-out groan. “Are you okay?” “Buck,” Eddie panted, his breath coming out in heavy exhales. “Buck –” Grabbing his keys, Buck makes it to the loft door, jacket half on when he stops dead in his tracks, phone still pressed to the side of his head as he hears Eddie in his ear. “Yes, Buck, yes, yes, please, yes –” *** Or, Eddie accidentally, sort of, maybe has phone sex with Buck for roughly five seconds, and Buck spirals about it until Eddie finally ends up in his lap.

now i don't hate california after all by jaekyu (PWP, Getting Together, Eddie comes back from Texas | 10K | Explicit): Eddie’s been waiting for months. He can wait a little bit longer.

🔥 Somethings Said (to turn you inside out) by taegyungie (Post-S8A, PWP | 12K | Explicit): Eddie tilts his head. “Why are you being so weird, Buck?” It’s funny to Buck that Eddie has to ask; one finds out his ridiculously hot best friend is now also sleeping with men, one begins thinking about sleeping with said ridiculously hot best friend. It just makes sense, right? So it almost offends him, a little bit, that Eddie is the picture of cool right now. Has seeing Buck in such a deliberately sexual context not altered Eddie’s brain chemistry, too? Does Buck need to update his Grindr profile? or, Buck catches Eddie on Grindr and now he can't stop thinking about it.

🔥 bad luck to talk by jaekyu (FWB, Misunderstandings | 14K | Explicit): Just before Eddie tells Buck he loves him, he’s pretty sure they’ve been building up to this for months. Just after Eddie tells Buck he loves him, he realises he’s deeply misunderstood this entire situation. And Buck? Well, Buck didn’t even think they were dating. (Aftermath, and then: the road less travelled, with the benefit of hindsight.)

at this fork in the road (I want the path that leads me to you) by kabnd/ @polkadotk804 (Post-S8A, Eddie goes to Texas | 24K | Teen): It is at that moment that Eddie realizes that he has a choice. There are two roads ahead of him. Two paths. Two potential futures. One with Buck at his back, and one with Buck eight hundred miles away. Eddie knows which one he wants, but he just needs to be brave enough to ask for it. OR: In one series of events, Eddie asks Buck to come with him to Texas, in another he doesn’t…but whatever steps they take, Buck and Eddie always find their way to each other and bring Christopher home.

WIP

Finding Mr Christmas by JJK/@trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Canon Divergent, Reality TV, Christmas | 4/? | 24K | Teen): "Welcome to Finding Mr Christmas! You’re all here chasing the same dream, to star in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and over the next few weeks we’re going to be putting you through your paces to see which of you has the most star quality and that ‘it’ factor that makes you shine above the rest." 🎄🎄🎄 An AU where Buck and Eddie meet as contestants on Hallmark's Finding Mr Christmas competition (and fall for each other).

can’t fight the moonlight by coldbam/ @coldbam (Werewolf Buck, Canon Divergent | 1/2 | 10K | Explicit): “Apparently I stole his very special mug,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. “I know you guys keep saying he’s all bark, Buck’s a real sweetheart, but I'm starting to worry you all just have terrible judge of character,” Eddie half-jokes. He sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “What the hell is his problem?” “Full moon tonight,” Chimney says with a smirk, chewing his gum like he’s proud of himself for that joke. * Or, everyone works at a wolf sanctuary and Buck is a werewolf.

Snickerdoodles of Longing by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S8A, Demi Eddie | 1/2 | 14K | Mature): Eddie piles up all his baking supplies and tells him, “All yours. Whatever you want to make. I’ll get more of anything if you need it. We should have plenty of flour though. I got you five bags.” Buck’s head snaps toward him. “Five bags? You got me five bags of flour? The little two pound ones, right? Or the five pounders?” “No, the tens. Like that one.” “You bought me fifty pounds of flour?” “You’re the one who decided his coping mechanism for loneliness was snickerdoodles and sourdough. I’m just being supportive. Since you’re my wingman and I’m yours or whatever you said when you stole my tablet and my realtor call.” Buck smirks. “More like saved your call.” More like saved Eddie’s everything but who’s counting? ~ Eddie decides he needs to move to Texas and slowly unravels as he comes to terms with how he really feels and what he's losing.

there is no road by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8A, Eddie moves to Texas | 2/6 | 24K | Explicit): Years ago, almost a full decade, Shannon had asked him to move and Eddie refused because he was trying to build a life for himself again. Eddie knows if he asks Buck, he’ll get that same refusal. Worse, Buck could say yes and Eddie would be uprooting Buck from the very life he built for himself. He doesn’t ask, and Buck doesn’t offer, and they pack up Eddie Diaz’s life in Los Angeles into cardboard boxes. Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck buys his house. There’s a love story somewhere in here.

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 9/? | 55K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

[kawoala]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES . . . !? suna rintarou ; 1.

╰ ⨳ word count ; .4k ( 498 )

╰ ⨳ content warning ; miscommunication 、 smau 、 profanity 、 kind of short 、 just like an introduction type thing.

previous ; masterlist ; next.

11:12 AM, new apartment building.

okay, so maybe you had overestimated yourself.

when you told rin you didn’t need help carrying your stuff up to the new apartment, you had been under the impression that kitchen utensils wouldn’t weigh that much when they were all put in the same box. but now, as you’re standing outside the building, hands on your hips, staring down at the pile of spilled kitchen utensils, you fear you might have overestimated yourself.

you gnaw on your bottom lip anxiously, glancing around quickly to make sure nobody is around to see your embarrassing mishap. you’re actually quite surprised to see absolutely nobody - much different compared to how busy your dorm building was.

you squat down, gathering as many utensils in your hands before dumping them into the backseat of your car. how are you going to get them up there? no idea. surely rin has silverware, right?

“uh, d’ya need help?”

you look up to the owner of voice and briefly think that the gods have rewarded you for your good deeds by sending an angel down to earth. his hair is a little too long for your usual type, but god damn does he make it work. everything about him is sharp; jawline, eyes, nose.

“what?” you ask dumbly, brows furrowing faintly. your brain catches up, finally, and you stand up with an awkward laugh. “oh, um, no. i mean- i just spilled my things. thank you, though, that’s very kind of you.” you give him a smile and stick out your hand for him to shake. “i’m y/n. i’m your new… neighbor? building-mate?” you shake your head. “i’m moving into this building, is what i’m trying to say.”

he hesitates in taking your hand. at first, you think it’s because you stumbled over your words too much and now he thinks you're weird, but then he says, “yeah, i know.”

your brain seems to stutter at his words. the smile is still on your face, but you’re sure the look in your eyes reads confused. “i’m sorry?” you ask, leaning forward a bit - just in case you didn’t quite hear him correctly.

“you’re y/n,” he repeats slowly. “i’m rin.” there’s a moment of silence - a moment too long, because then he continues like you don’t understand. “rintarou? runa’s cousin? your new roommate?”

oh. suddenly, everything you thought was weird makes sense. runa using “he” instead of “she” - though that might have been your fault; you thought she just made a mistake. the dryness of the texts you were receiving for the past few weeks.

rin - rintarou - is a guy.

“oh.”

“what, did runa not show you a picture of me or something?” he laughs, a sort of snorting sound, but the silence you return is the only answer he needs. “oh, she didn’t? shit, sorry. she has a habit of leaving out important details.”

you scoff, though it sounds more like a laugh. “yeah, tell me about it.”

╰ ⨳ taglist ; @miiyas , @heartmaddie , @cherrysurf , @pookalicious-hq , @grassbutneo

@akaashislovee , @cvddlebug , @pardoffel , @ssabvln , @smiithys .

[gyuzgrl]

tease ||yjh||

summary- Jeonghan's a tease. You're delighted to find that this extends to the bedroom.

wc- 4k

Blue hues of light lit up the living room- spilling out of the blaring television and onto your faces. It was loud. It was bright. But it did nothing to distract you from the way your boyfriend toyed with you while he watched.

You and Jeonghan had only just started dating- it had been about three weeks- and nothing had moved past innocent make-out sessions yet. There was no rush, he told you, he was willing to wait until you were comfortable enough.

'no one has ever survived my plain rice original attack- take this!'

'HA! you underestimate m- AHHHHH I'M HUNGRY'

It was a silly movie. On any other day, you would've loved it. You would've been glued to the screen, shoveling popcorn into your mouth as you laughed away.

But right now? Right now you were focused on one thing and one thing only; the way Jeonghan was touching you.

He leaned against the arm of the couch, legs bent at the knees, with you lying between them. Your head rested on his firm chest and his arms wrapped themselves under yours, around your waist. It was standard procedure thus far. You always cuddled like this.

The thing with today, however, is that his hands are...occupied.

One hand sits at the hem of your shirt, fingers fidgeting with the flimsy fabric, while the other holds your inner thigh. Over the course of the movie, Jeonghan moved from twisting the hem of your shirt to tracing little hearts onto the skin below, right above the edge of your panties.

You've got half an hour left to finish the movie now. Half an hour to power through your growing desperation.

"there's no need to drag this out," he mumbles into your ear, and you jolt in his arms, feeling his breath tickle the shell of your ear.

"huh?"

"I mean, he could've just shot the guy-"

Unsure of what he was referring to, you opt to agree, not wanting to give away your current state.

"y-yeah, you're right" you stutter, cringing internally at how pathetic you sound.

If he notices, he chooses to make no comment about your utterance and resumes watching the movie. His hands move back to playing with you, only this time, he drags his nails over the waistband of your panties, causing you to squirm in his grasp. The other hand settles back on your inner thigh, fingers bumping into your cunt 'accidentally'.

The contact has you whimpering pathetically, and you bite down on your lower lip to seal off your voice. You fail to notice, however, the smirk playing on Jeonghan's lips.

Oh, this was no accident.

Fifteen minutes to go now, and you think you're going insane. The squeeze of his fingers, the way his nails rake against your skin so softly, he has you losing your sanity. Your panties are soaked, your breathing is shallow, and your face is so red he'd be able to see it even amidst the harsh blue glow the TV casts on your face.

'hang in there' you tell yourself, trying to squeeze your thighs together, trapping Jeonghan's hand between them.

"you okay, angel?" he asks, wiggling his hand until your thighs fall open again, "you've been so quiet"

"I uh, I'm alri-" you break off into a whimper when he moves his hand up and squeezes again.

"what is it, baby?" His voice is sultry and low. You feel yourself clench up around nothing.

"n-nothing hannie I'm okay" you say, breathlessly. Too caught up in watching yourself, you fail to notice the evident grin in your boyfriend's voice- like he was up to no good.

"if you need anything from me, you can just say, hm?"

'I need your dick inside me. I need you to touch me, to kiss me, to have me. Whatever you want. I need you to just have your way with me'

"yeah I'll um, I'll be sure to tell you"

Ten minutes to go. You are an absolute mess. Your panties cling to you uncomfortably, like a second skin, your body is enveloped in a thin film of sweat, and his hands, god his hands have not stopped.

Those gorgeous fingers of his torture you with their every move. You've forgotten about the movie entirely now, choosing instead to look at the way he plays with you. The way his pretty, long fingers grab at your flesh, teasing you without mercy.

You're transfixed, honestly, drifting into thoughts of how they'd feel inside you, how he'd feel inside you. Captivated by his hands, you don't realize when time passes you. Before you know it, the room goes silent, screen turning black before your unfocused eyes.

The credits roll quietly as Jeonghan continues to toy with your body, now certain that you're as invested in this as he is.

He hasn't said it before, but he's wanted to have you from the moment you called him yours. His mind was plagued with thoughts of you- what you'd look like, what you'd sound like, what you'd feel like under him. But, he didn't want to push. This had to happen naturally.

As names litter the screen, Jeonghan brings his hand higher, now flush against your groin, and you fail to conceal the moan that rips out your throat.

"oh?"

"sor-sorry," you stutter, eyes widening, "I should um, I think I'll go wash up-"

Hastily, you move to scramble off his chest, shooting up off the couch only to find him mirroring your actions.

Jeonghan's hand finds your wrist, and he tugs you back, into his embrace. He wraps his arms around you, leaning his chin on the top of your head.

"why won't you ask?" he mumbles into your hair, smoothing his palms over your waist and lower back.

"what are y-"

"I'm all yours, y'know... whatever you need, you can take it from me"

When you fail to respond, Jeonghan sighs, peeling himself away from you. His hands land on your shoulders as he walks you backwards, pushing you onto the couch.

"hannie what are-"

Soft cushions greet your tensed frame, dipping under your weight. Your boyfriend stares down at you, slowly settling on top of you, with his knees resting at either side of your hips.

"take it." he whispers, bringing his face right above yours, so close you can feel his breath tickling your lips.

A breathy sigh slips past your lips, and you shudder at the proximity between your bodies.

Jeonghan inches closer. Your eyes flutter closed, anticipation bubbling away in your stomach. He draws nearer still, pushing further and further, almost reaching your lips, until he stops.

You lie waiting, with your eyes still shut, before he whispers against your lips.

"take. it."

Blushing wildly, you look up at him. He's still close, still almost touching you. At first, you're unsure of what he means, but the look in his eyes tells you all you need to know.

Oh.

He wanted you to work for it.

Your head tilts tentatively, angling yourself towards him. It's a strain, lifting your head at such an awkward angle, but you're almost there. Your lips are almost on his.

So close, just about to touch, when he pulls back ever so slightly. A frustrated whine leaves your lips as his own curl up into a devilish smirk.

"hannie," you pout. His smirk widens.

"c'mon angel you can do better than that, can't you?"

Ignoring your crumbling pride, you reach up once again, managing to ghost your lips over his, only to have him pull away like before.

You huff, letting your head fall back onto the cushions as you turn to the side.

"giving up already?" he hooks his fingers under your chin, forcing you to face him as he speaks.

You're about to bite back, say something mean, but the view you're met with has your throat closing up. Jeonghan's hair hung loosely around his face, his lips were parted, his eyes were blown wide with something you'd never seen before- he looked unreal.

"are you?" he quirks a brow at you before leaning closer, ghosting his lips over yours.

Taking full advantage of the proximity, you loop your arms around his neck and pull him closer, finally managing to kiss him.

The action takes him by surprise, but he quickly recovers, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

You gasp at the sudden movement, and he takes full advantage, shoving his tongue into your mouth, licking his way inside. There was an expertise to the way he kissed you- how his tongue moved so sensually, how his lips pressed against yours in a way that had your panties soaked.

While one hand binds your wrists together, Jeonghan uses the other to cradle your face. The gentle manner in which his fingers splayed over your hair, thumb tucked into your temple, had you reeling. How dare he act so innocent with his tongue shoved down your throat?

For a minute you both seemed to forget about the world, about reality. All that existed was you and him and the heat between your bodies. You can't help the small whimpers and moans that escape you with every flick of his tongue.

Panting, you pull away. Your chest heaves as you gaze into his eyes, noticing how blown his pupils are. The same eyes that sparkled with love when he saw you, the same eyes that crinkled under his smile, those very eyes looked unrecognisable tonight. There was a lust, a hunger, that shone behind his stare. It made your stomach flutter.

"angel," he mutters, his tone low and raspy, "what do you want from me?"

"I-" you start, breaking eye contact when your cheeks start to heat up once again, "I want you"

He quirks a brow at you, and for some reason, you feel the need to add in a quick "please".

"want me how?"

Jeonghan trails his fingers from your jaw down your body, stopping at your clothed cunt.

"want my fingers?" he smirks as you shudder under his touch, and continues.

"want my mouth?" his head dips into the divot between your collarbones, licking at the tender skin before nipping at it oh-so-gently.

"want my cock?"

In one swift motion, he grinds down into you, pushing his hard bulge against your sex.

A moan claws its way up your throat, and before you're aware of what you're doing, you find yourself whimpering-

"all of it- all of it please hannie"

He stares down at you, his dominant persona faltering for a second when he takes you in. Soft wisps of hair framed your face, a thin film of glossy sweat settled on your skin, crimson tints painted your cheeks. You were sprawled out, blushing, panting, all for him. All because of him.

The way his heart swelled at the sight of you was something he'd never felt with anyone else before.

"my pretty girl," he coos softly, brushing a strand of hair off your face, "I'll make you feel good, okay? Is that what you want angel?"

You nod, desperately, eyes wide with sincerity. God you're adorable- Jeonghan can't help but fuss all over you and pepper your face with soft kisses, before he regains his composure.

With alarming ease, he stands back up, beckoning you forward with the quirk of his fingers as he walks backwards towards his bedroom.

"c'mere"

You swallow your pride and follow him, scrambling off the couch eagerly, chasing after his figure.

The dark setting of his bedroom greets you as you enter after him. It isn't what you expected. Not one bit. For someone as soft and easy going as Jeonghan, black walls and dark satin sheets seemed quite... out of character.

But then again, you've only known him for a few weeks. Perhaps he isn't as soft as he let's on.

"if you wanna stop," he says, pushing you to sit on the bed, "just say the word. okay?"

You nod and his jaw ticks.

"words. I'm gonna need to to use your words for me, yeah?"

"y-yeah I can do that Hannie"

"good."

Slowly, Jeonghan tips you back, letting you lie back onto his mattress with your knees hanging off the edge. He shoots you a sly smirk as his hands run up your sides, under your shirt, making you shiver.

"this okay?" he murmurs, kissing the skin of your exposed tummy while his hands undo your buttons with expert precision.

"mhm"

With each button falling apart under his fingers, you feel your heartbeat quicken. Anticipation builds in your stomach with how slowly yet easily he moves. It was so sensual, so enticing, how he took his time, how he was so confident with the way he handled you.

The heat between your legs is unbearable now.

"there" he sighs, almost to himself, as he pops the last button off, revealing your bralette.

Oh.

Just when he thought you couldn't get any prettier, you had to go and prove him wrong.

"I'm really lucky, aren't I?"

"what ar-"

"I've got the prettiest girl in the world with me. all mine"

You turn away, bashfully.

"m'gonna make you feel good, okay, pretty?"

"yes" you breathe.

Sparing not a second more, he crawls on top of you, nuzzling his face into your neck, leaving wet kisses below your ear.

"could kiss you all day" he whispers against the shell of your ear, biting gently at the sensitive skin.

"Hannie-"

"don't think I'll ever be able to stop"

Jeonghan trails kisses down your neck to your cleavage, stopping right above the fabric of your bralette to look up at you.

"can I?"

"mhm"

Deft fingers slide under your back, pushing you to arch up against him as he unhooks your bra with ease. He lets the fabric fall apart under his fingers and tosses it aside, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of your breasts.

You shudder when his hands knead the soft flesh, occasionally tweaking your nipples between his fingers. He really knew what he was doing.

The heat in your belly only grew with the way he teased you, growing almost unbearable. You needed him to touch you. You'd go crazy if he didn't.

As if he read your mind, Jeonghan places his lips to your breasts, sucking faint red bruises into your skin, moving south. He leaves a trail of marks all the way down your torso, stopping at the hem of your shorts.

"still with me?" he asks, fingers tucked into the waistband of your shorts, mumbling into your skin.

"yeah just- please keep going"

He grins. You were exactly what he imagined. Responsive, sensitive and desperate. Oh he was going to have so much fun with you.

Tugging your shorts down, tantalisingly slow, Jeonghan stares up at you- a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You don't think too much of it at first, but when he moves to pull your panties off, you begin to put two and two together.

A faux pout takes over his features as he holds your underwear right above your knees.

"oh no," he coos, snapping the waistband against your lower thigh, "it's stuck."

Oh.

"what-?" you choke. It was painful now, how badly you needed him. Your clit ached, your hole clenched up around empty space, your skin was on fire.

"can't seem to get these off," A stupid grin stretches over his lips, and you want nothing more than to smack it right off.

"Hannie c'monn it hurts" you whine, tears pricking your eyes, "please"

He pouts, a condescending furrow in his brow.

"but it's stuck"

"god-"

You shove your panties down, hastily, and kick them off until you're completely bare for him. Exasperation paints over your face, only to be replaced by a furious red blush once realisation hits.

Did you just-

"so desperate for me," he smirks as his palms glide over your hips, "fuck look at how wet you are, angel"

Jeonghan crooks a finger into you, dragging it along your slit before raising the digit to your face. There's a glint in his eye, half in awe, half amused.

"you're practically dripping off my fingers, baby"

You feel your cheeks heat up at the sight and turn away, mumbling something along the lines of 'c'mon don't tease'.

There's a chuckle on his end as he gives in, pushing the soaked digit into your mouth. Your cheeks hollow around his finger, tongue swirling, and he sucks in an unsteady breath.

"will you be good, angel? can you stay still for me?"

You hum, opening your mouth to say something, but you quickly cut yourself off with a moan when Jeonghan's tongue drags along your slit. He works the wet muscle into you, dipping inside to collect your arousal before spreading it over your clit. His lips suction your aching nerves, tongue prodding it rhythmically, and your back arches off the bed.

Jeonghan's eyes meet yours, his stare warning you to behave. Instantly, your hips settle back, and you try your hardest to keep still.

"good girl," he praises, mumbling into your clit. The vibrations of his voice shoot up your spine, and you feel your nerves sing, now on edge.

A helpless moan escapes you when he slides two fingers inside you, pumping in and out as you squeeze around him. The combined stimulation of his tongue on your clit and those long fingers inside you, has you dangerously close to falling apart.

"H-Hannie fuck don't stop m'so close-" you gasp, grinding your hips onto his face to match the rhythm of his tongue.

His lips curl up into a sickly smirk and you feel you stomach drop. Surely, surely he wouldn't-

"gonna cum?" he grins. The thrust of his fingers begin to slow their pace and his tongue circles the area around your clit.

You push your hips up, chasing his tongue desperately, but to no avail.

"please-"

"please?" he echoes.

"so close"

"mm I could tell"

The sultry edge to his voice has you torn. On one hand, he just denied you of what would've been the best orgasm of your life, while on the other he sounded so fucking sexy being in charge. You couldn't decide whether you wanted to slap him or pull him into a kiss.

Your thighs quiver with the weight of your ebbing orgasm, and you feel tears spill over as it fades into nothing.

"aw, angel," he coos, thumbing away the pearls slipping down your cheeks, "you were right there, weren't you?"

You nod, sniffling away pathetically.

"do you wanna cum?"

You nod again and he tuts.

"what did I sa-"

"yes! yes please- wanna cum, wanna cum so bad Hannie,"

Jeonghan smiles, satisfied, and lowers his face to your cunt, this time shoving three fingers into you without warning and lapping at your clit with such precision you almost came on the spot.

You moan, hands flying to his hair instantly. His tongue flicked at your nerves just right and the stretch of your walls around his fingers felt ungodly.

"d-don't stop please-"

He smirks against your cunt and pushes further, harder. Within minutes you come undone, feeling your body sink into the mattress as your vision turns white from pleasure. Jeonghan fucks you through your orgasm, licking at your juices lazily.

"taste so good" he groans, pulling his fingers out of you and sucking them into his mouth.

The room feels hot. Far hotter than before. You can smell yourself, smell the salty sweat dripping off of you. Jeonghan grins at your dishevelled state, revelling in the way he had you breaking on his tongue.

"still okay?"

"more than okay" you breathe, tugging him by the collar of his shirt, into a filthy kiss. You can taste the remnants of your arousal on his tongue, and it only makes you want him more.

You pull away, panting, and keep your fingers tangled in his shirt.

"you- are far too clothed for my liking."

Jeonghan's eyes crinkle into that smile you fell in love with, and your heart skips a beat. God, he was just so pretty.

"perv," he smiles.

"hey, I'm the naked one-"

"mhm and who's fault is that? didn't you take these off yourself?" he reaches down, grabbing your panties before waving them around.

"god- you're so-"

"handsome? skilled? tempting?"

"just shut up and fuck me already"

Jeonghan steps back, now standing in front of the bed, and pulls his shirt off. You feel your lungs drain.

He was on the slimmer side, so you didn't really expect much, but the sculpted contours of his pectorals and abs told you something else altogether.

"you're staring"

Shamelessly you let your jaw hang open as you sit up to feel his abs.

"m'not staring what are you talking about?"

Your hands trace over his torso, eyes transfixed by how beautiful he looked like this- staring down at you, one hand resting on your hair, cheeks flushed.

He takes hold of your wandering hand and drags it up to the centre of his chest.

"can you feel that?" he asks, voice raspy.

It's his heart.

"that's all for you"

His heart thuds against his chest, pace so quick you'd have thought he was a racehorse.

"I-" you start, unable to find the words.

"c'mere let me take care of you, hm?"

Ridding himself of his shorts and boxers, Jeonghan let's your hand trace over him.

Gently, he lays you down on the bed, making sure your head rests securely between the pillows. He hovers over you, balancing his weight on his forearms.

"might sting just a little, okay?"

You nod, staring up at him with wide, eager eyes.

Slowly, Jeonghan eases himself into you. He was long. Really long. Girth wise, the stretch didn't hurt too much, but god- he was barely halfway in when you started squirming.

"shh, I know, it'll feel good in a minute angel"

Pushing further, he distracts you with a sensual kiss, licking at the seam of your mouth. You grant him entrance, whimpering when he swipes over your tongue.

He bottoms out inside you, and for a moment, you still in his arms.

"that's it, baby," he mumbles against your lips, breathing hard as is to contain himself, "taking me so good"

When he feels you relax around him, he draws his hips back before pushing back into you. His is pace is steady, his thrusts are firm, you swear you've never felt so secure during sex before.

His length kisses your cervix right away and you cry out, back arching off the bed and into his chest. Your nails rake down his back, leaving deep red marks you're sure he'll tease you about tomorrow.

"fuck-" he seethes, thrusting into you, his jaw tense as beads of sweat collect at his temples.

"Han- oh my god-"

The room echoes with your voices- desperate moans and whimpers neither of you can be bothered to contain. Hot, steamy air floods the space, and you can smell his cologne, his skin as he pounds into you.

A hand reaches down to toy with your clit, stretching your lips open, leaving your nerves completely at his mercy. His middle finger dips into you, rubbing lazy circles against your clit, and you cry out his name like it's all you know.

He muffles your cries with his tongue, shoving it into your mouth as you moan and whimper into him. It's hard to breathe, hard to speak, hard to think, but you just can't get enough.

A particularly harsh thrust has you clamping down on him and he groans. His lips trail over to your ear, and he bites gently at the tender flesh of your earlobe.

"you feel like heaven-" he shudders, licking at the shell of your ear.

Your skin lights up, hairs standing on end, and you feel your orgasm building.

His fingers circle your clit faster, and his thrusts move to a brutal pace.

Moaning into each other, you chase your highs, hips bucking eagerly, desperately, as you finally come undone together.

Jeonghan fucks into you, helping you ride your orgasm as he does his own.

There's a long silence as he pushes into you, both you and him wincing from overstimulation. He gazes into your eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips, and kisses you deeply one last time, before pulling out.

Whimpering at the sudden loss, your hips chase him, and he scoffs, an amused look taking over his face.

"you're insatiable- c'mon let's get you cleaned up"

Before you can protest, you find yourself slumped against his chest, carried in his arms like a princess as he walks over to the bathroom.

You're met with an already filled bath, rose petals scattered along the surface of the water, candles lit up and arranged along the room.

"so I uh, I might have planned thi-"

You cut him off with a peck, giggling at his sudden nervousness.

"thank you," you beam as he lowers you into the water, following right after.

"anything for my angel"

[gothgoblinbabe]

✮ Monster Mash ✮

Logan Howlett x fem reader

A/N: I wanted to do something for spooky month and I’ve been dying to go to Monster mini golf because. I mean. Look at it. Does that not look so fun. It’s so fun. I haven’t been since I was little and I’m determined to go soon - anyway, I wanted to explain that if you don’t know what that is, it’s a chain of indoor mini golf courses that are hand painted in neon paint and have all these cool monster statues and themed holes. Also an arcade <3 I fucking love the arcade 

I even included some pictures in the moodboard!

Yes I did laugh like a twelve year old boy every time I wrote “hole” so get the giggles out now

Summary: Picking a group activity was never easy, but with Halloween right around the corner, you came up with the perfect idea. Even if Logan hated it.

Warnings: swearing, I think that’s it? Good amount of fluff, This is a cute one

Word Count: 4k

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦

Team building exercises sounded great when Charles brought it up, in theory. 

You’d all spend one day a week doing an activity together. Each person - you, Logan, Ororo, Jean and Scott - got a chance to pick said activity, decided by who got to pick the week before. It seemed like an easy and fair system - except that some of you were very stubborn and wouldn’t agree to go anywhere half the time.

“I’m not doing that. I don’t want to,” Logan would say flatly, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Too bad,” Scott would always say, “get in the car.”

This week was your turn and you were ecstatic, except that you couldn’t decide on what you wanted to do. Something in you was feeling nostalgic and longed to revisit somewhere you hadn’t been in a long time. You tried to think of what you did as a kid with your friends, what you did for your birthdays or places you wanted to go but never got to. You also figured since Halloween was around the corner, you should choose something kind of spooky.

You knew exactly where you wanted to go.

“I don’t get it,” Logan narrowed his eyes and looked at the colorful sign plastered on the front of the building, “what do monsters have to do with it?”

You stifled a laugh.

“They’re cute.”

“Cute?” Logan eyed one of the monsters painted on the outside wall, “define ‘cute’.”

“It looks like fun,” Jean shrugged, hand in hand with Scott as you all walked in together. 

Monster mini golf was one of your favorite places to go as a kid. The blacklights, patterned carpets, familiar monster displays and neon lights reminded you of simpler times.

Once inside, you all got clubs and golf balls. You tried to hand Logan a club and he shook his head.

“I am not playin’ golf like some yuppie.”

“Does this look like a country club to you?” you gestured to your surroundings, “Logan, it’s mini golf. It's fun. Take the damn club or you can sit in the car for the next three hours.”

After a moment of hesitation, he begrudgingly took it from your hands and followed you onto the little neon course.

“I’m gonna kick your ass at this - just so you know,” you told him. If there was anything that could get Logan to participate, it was to challenge him.

“Oh, are you?” he narrowed his eyes and you knew you had him.

“Yeah, duh! And when I do win,” you smiled and pointed at a distant photo booth in the arcade room adjacent from the course, “you’ve gotta get in the photo booth with me.”

It may or may not have been an excuse to sit shoulder to shoulder in a little booth where you could smell his cologne and see his pretty face up close. Plus, you’d have a strip of photos to help you remember it. Having such a huge crush on him and never saying a thing about it meant that a moment in a Photo Booth could be all you’d ever have, and you still wanted it anyway.

“Deal,” he replied, holding out his pinkie so you could lock yours with his. You can’t remember where it started - maybe during downtime on a mission or a late night talk on the couch in the living room - but every time you made some sort of deal or agreement, you locked pinkies. It was like a pinkie promise to fulfill your end of the deal.

You locked yours around his and he goofily shook your hand all around while he still had a grip on you.

“Okay, okay,” you giggled, “let me go!”

He finally did with a short laugh.

“Okay, Romeo and Juliet,” Scott’s voice made you turn around, “can we actually start playing?”

Logan rolled his eyes and lifted the mini golf club over his shoulder to hit him with it, but you grabbed his bicep and made him slowly lower it.

“Is this gonna be like the last time we all went out?” Ororo asked, “because I can’t do a repeat of Six Flags.”

“We’re still banned for another six months,” Jean pointed out.

“I didn’t think they could kick you out for destroyin’ a concession stand,” Logan shrugged.

“Why wouldn’t they?” Scott asked.

“You started it, anyway.”

“So?”

“So? I’ll throw you through another one, fuckface -“

“Alright!” you interrupted with a false smile, “if either one of you get us kicked out of here, I will personally shave your heads in your sleep. Got it?”

Logan shuddered and immediately brought a protective hand up to his hair. They both nodded and you patted them on the backs.

“Okay, boys! Time to golf.”

You couldn’t even get past the first hole without hitting your ball over ten times.

“This sucks,” you said under your breath. The place itself didn’t suck, but you sure did at mini golf. You did this as a kid all the time - why was it so hard as an adult? Maybe because the clubs were much shorter now.

Except your six-foot best friend was hunched over the little club as he swung and he was still doing well.

“Looks like I’m winnin’,” Logan flashed a smug grin as he hit a hole in one.

“Ugh,” you groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration.

“Someone’s a sore loser,” he teased in a sing-song voice. 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be you soon,” you pointed over to where you saw Scott, who was playing effortlessly. 

“Alright, hey - it’s you and me, one on one. Forget Summers, I’m gonna be the one to kick your ass.”

As much as it probably shouldn't have, Logan’s voice made your heart flutter.

“Sure you are, big cat.”

His eyebrows furrowed when you said the nickname, one you used to tease him often.

“You think ‘roro and Jean are doin’ any better?” he asked, intending to ignore your inherent need to press every single one of his buttons.

You saw the both of them a little bit ahead of you, celebrating as Jean completed that part of the course.

“I’d say so,” you pursed your lips and leaned down to align your club with the ball.

“Your feet aren't right.”

You stood up straight and looked back at Logan.

“What?”

“Your feet are too close together,” he explained, coming closer to lightly knock his boot against the inside of your foot, “there.”

He stood back again and crossed his arms. You positioned yourself to hit the ball until he spoke again.

“You need to straighten your back.”

You chuckled and turned around.

“I thought golf was for yuppies, hm?” you mocked his earlier statement and he rolled his eyes.

“You want help or not?”

You genuinely contemplated his question before answering.

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

He came closer behind you before you could even ask what he was doing. He blanketed his hands and arms over yours to help your aim, inadvertently pulling your back against his chest. He was warm and smelled like leather and pine. You were trying to listen to everything he was saying, but his voice so close to your ear made your head spin and turned your brain to mush.

There was a sudden flash of light and you heard something click. You instantly spotted Ororo with a digital camera in her hands and a wide smile on her face.

“You guys look so cute, I had to!”

Logan rolled his eyes and you shook your head, but you couldn’t see him bite down a smile behind you. If you didn’t ask for a copy of that picture later, he would.

You were so distracted by your thoughts that you almost forgot there was actually a point to him crowding you like this.

“Anyway, here,” he readjusted his hands over yours and pulled the club back a bit to swing, “ready?”

You nodded and he rested his head over your shoulder so he could see the ball and help you aim. You could feel his warm breath grazing your ear.

You felt like your legs were going to give out from underneath you.

The ball went rolling with a light tap and you watched it travel straight into the hole.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, excitedly raising your hands in the air when he let you go. For some reason, a part of you felt bold enough to lean up and kiss him on the cheek as a thank you, so you did.

He was lucky you couldn’t see the tips of his ears turn pink under the black light.

“With your help, I’ll be better than Tiger Woods in no time,” you joked.

“I don’t know about that,” he said with a shy smile, “I’m no professional trainer. Besides, it was all you.”

“You had your hands over mine and swung for me.”

“Again, all you.”

You laughed and motioned for him to follow you to the next hole in the course. The spot was next to a particularly grotesque monster sculpture.

“Ew,” Logan cringed, pointing at the towering neon statue, “he is ugly.”

“He looks like you,” you joked, gesturing to its face.

“Ha - ha,” he said flatly, “very funny.”

Logan shot you a mischievous smile and looked around the room, locking eyes with Ororo.

“ ‘roro! Pull out that camera!”

Before you could ask any questions, he was lifting you up with his arms around your waist and holding you up next to the statue.

“Logan! Put me down!” you tried to yell but couldn’t stop laughing, kicking your feet in an attempt to get loose and failing miserably. He held you tight - not enough to hurt, of course - and practically squished the side of his face against yours. Your cheeks felt hot from laughing so hard - or having Logan so close, you weren’t sure which.

Ororo, Jean and Scott were all chuckling while the picture was taken. The flash went off and you couldn’t help the wide smile on your face that unknowingly mirrored Logan’s.

“How cute are they?” Jean pouted and spoke under her breath, looking over Ororo’s shoulder at the digital camera screen.

“Lemme see!” you demanded as Logan set you down, jogging over to peek at the screen.

You knew you smiled as wide as you could, but seeing him smile so big that his eyes were nearly closed made your heart feel like it would burst.

“I didn’t even know you could smile,” Scott teased him, earning a glare from Logan.

“Hey, you remember six flags,” you reminded Scott, “he smiled when he threw you through that concession stand!”

“I was kind of too busy with my head stuck in the front of a popcorn sign to see it, but I believe you.”

“That was pretty funny,” Logan smiled to himself, “your hair smelled like butter for weeks.”

“Yeah, funny,” Scott rolled his eyes.

You continued the game and having Logan’s guide at the start increased your skill significantly. When you got down to the last hole, you were tied.

“This is it, big cat,” you told him, hands on your hips as he lined up his shot.

“If I win, you’ve gotta stop callin’ me that.”

“Hm,” you pretended to think for a moment, “nah, I don’t think I will.”

“You’re gonna have to in a minute,” he said in a cocky tone, pulling his club back to swing.

When he hit the ball, it rocketed across the carpeted floor and hit the little neon side wall, ricocheting it from one side to the other until it lost momentum. It was nowhere near the hole.

You clicked your tongue.

“Step aside, big cat,” you flashed him a smug grin and playfully nudged him with your elbow.

He groaned in frustration and crossed his arms, watching from behind as you lined up your shot. You hit the ball and watched it roll straight into the hole.

“Ooh, how does that feel, babe?”

You didn’t really mean to let the nickname slip - you called people ‘babe’ all the time - but you didn’t correct yourself either.

“Feels like I let you win, babe.”

Hearing it in his voice made you undeniably giddy.

“Sure, sure - whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.”

“Well, I can guarantee you one thing,” he started and you raised your eyebrows, “you’d never beat me in Mortal Kombat.”

He pointed into the arcade you’d seen before.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Who do you usually choose to fight?”

“Reptile. Who do you pick?”

“Kitana.”

“That’s..” Logan paused in thought, “a pretty good fight, actually.”

“I’m still gonna kick your ass.”

“Not at this one, kid.”

You were walking hurriedly on the neon carpet like you were a kid again, eager to feed money into rewardless games. You spotted the Mortal Kombat machine almost immediately and tugged on the sleeve of his jacket to get his attention. You made your way over to the brightly colored machine and put in some quarters, changing the screen to the select character menu.

“Ready to lose?” He asked and you playfully scoffed, eyes glued to the screen.

“Whatever, kitty. You still owe me a photo booth picture, so I’m the real winner today anyway.

“What’d I say about ‘kitty’?”

“That you hate it? Oh, yeah, I know, that’s why I use it.”

The round started and you and Logan stood shoulder to shoulder, mashing buttons and driving the joysticks in different directions. It was a two player machine - technically, you had enough room to put space between you, but neither of you actually wanted to.

The first round was over before you knew it, a bright ‘FATALITY’  written across your side of the screen.

“Now how did that feel, babe?” 

Your face felt hot when he used the affectionate nickname and you hoped he was too focused on the second round to notice you were smiling like an idiot.

He was too, though.

“Oh, permanent nickname now?” you tried to play cool while you were still focused on the fight.

“Mhm,” he hummed, “get used to it, babe.”

You could most definitely get used to it.

“Okay, babe.”

You were still with your eyes glued to the screen, but in your mind, you were jumping around and doing cartwheels and screaming in victory.

So, you were amazed that you’d won the second round even while daydreaming about the guy beside you.

“Suck on that, Howlett,” you said smugly, grinning up at him.

“Ooh, so your trash talkin’ gets dirty, now?”

You only laughed in response.

“I think I prefer being called ‘babe’, though,” he told you, looking into your eyes in a way that made your hands sweat. 

“Well,” you tried to calm your nerves, “you’re on, babe.”

The third round would determine who won and you were both locked in. The colored light from the screen painted your features as you vigorously slammed buttons. You watched your health bar steadily get lower, lower and lower before it was empty completely. The third and final end screen popped up and you let your head fall back in frustration.

“See, what’d I tell you? You never had a chance,” he teased.

“It’s Photo Booth time, anyway,” you said excitedly, grabbing his hand and attempting to pull him with you as you walked. He followed you, but it wasn’t actually because you were holding onto him - you couldn’t move him even if there were two of you - but because he’d really follow you anywhere if it meant he could hold your hand.

You passed a row of claw machines and halted in front of one of them when something inside caught your eye. Logan stopped behind you, confused as to what you were looking at.

Smack dab in the middle of the pile of stuffed creatures, you saw her.

A Halloween themed stuffed Hello Kitty, complete with a glow in the dark bow and bat patterned dress. Her small beady eyes stared back at you from behind the glass and you knew you had to have her. It was love at first sight.

“You see her?” you looked at Logan with a deadly serious expression and pressed your finger to the glass, “I’m not leaving without her. We’re coming back after the pictures.”

You found the Photo Booth and eagerly slid into the small space behind the curtain with Logan next to you. You looked up at the screen that showed the both of you and smiled wide. Maybe it was your own bias, but you thought you looked cute together.

You followed the instructions and the photo countdown began. You and Logan looked at each other in mild panic, realizing you didn’t know how to pose.

“Silly one?” you asked and you were both immediately moving to strike a pose before the photo was taken.

You were crossing your eyes with your tongue stuck out and he had his hands up in claws, forcing an underbite so that his lower teeth were covering his upper lip. When the picture was snapped and you looked up to see it, you laughed so hard at Logan’s face that you were nearly in tears. Your laughter was contagious and he was infected immediately, both of you starting to tear up from laughing so hard. You hadn't heard the camera timer over your laughing and when it made the click noise, you looked back at the screen.

You were leaned over Logan a little, your mouth open mid-laugh and your eyes closed. His smile was wide as could be, his cheeks actually red from laughing.

“That’s cute!”

You really didn’t mean to say it aloud but it slipped anyway and you pursed your lips.

“Very,” he said.

You felt the turn and twist of excitement in your stomach. 

“Okay, next one,” you told him, “wanna do a regular picture?”

“Sure.”

Instantly, he slung his arm over your shoulder and leaned his head against yours while you kept your cheek-aching grin. He had a genuine smile, his eyes stuck on your face on the screen. 

It felt like there was something there, something in the air between you, some kind of effect that made your longing for him almost unbearable.

The picture was snapped and you turned to look at him. He didn’t move his arm, instead keeping it hooked around you to pull you close. He looked back at you with a semi-serious expression while his eyes studied your features.

“What?” you laughed, small and nervous.

You were too entranced by him to hear the last photo countdown, but Logan heard it fine. 

Three

You leaned in close to each other, almost nose to nose.

Two 

He brought his other hand up to hold your face tenderly, swiping his thumb over your skin in an affectionate manner. His stare was intense in the best way possible. You felt like your heart was beating so hard it might give out.

One

He kissed you.

He closed the gap and you wanted to squeal in excitement, though you’d wait till you told Ororo to do that. His lips were soft like you always thought they’d be and you reveled in the overwhelming scent of him - leather and pine. You had your hands in the hair at the back of his head, as if you were holding him against you. It was like a dream come true, somehow everything you’d hoped it would be. 

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were speechless. He took your silence as rejection and awkwardly avoided your stare.

“I’m sorry, I - uh, I don’t know why I-“

You pulled him close to kiss him again and silence his rambling. You could feel him relax under your touch and you did the same, smiling against his lips when it finally set in that he had actually kissed you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for awhile now,” you admitted quietly when your lips disconnected.

“Me too.”

He was smirking like he’d beat you in another arcade game, proudly basking in the afterglow of victory. This time, you were the prize, one he never thought he’d win.

“We should probably get the pictures, huh?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, uh, one more thing,” he replied and kissed you again, “okay, let’s go.”

You giggled and followed him out of the booth. He picked up the two strips of photos from the printer on the side of the booth and handed you one. 

All of the pictures came out great, but you were really just focused on the last one. It was perfect. Not only did he kiss you, but now you had proof to remind yourself it wasn’t a dream.

“Hey, how’re you guys making out over here?”

You jumped at the sound of Jean's voice and blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“We weren’t making out.”

Jean tilted her head and looked between the two of you.

“Hm,” she hummed, “okay, then.”

Logan discreetly interlaced his fingers with yours when she turned away and tugged you further into the isles of games. He stopped in front of the row of claw machines again.

You spotted Hello Kitty and looked back and forth between her and Logan.

“I’m gonna get that stuffed cat,” he told you matter of factly, starting the game with a press of a button.

“She has a name, you know,” you informed him, trying to bite down another beaming smile just from the fact that he wanted to do that for you.

“Oh, does she?”

“Mhm, Hello Kitty.”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” he sighed and you started to laugh, taking a deep breath before responding.

“No, no - that’s her name, she’s Hello Kitty.”

“Ah, I see,” he smiled while his eyes were glued to the metal claw of the machine, “Well, I’ll let you teach me all about her when I get her out.”

The metal claw lowered slowly and its talons gripped around Hello Kitty’s rotund head, but she slipped from its grasp the moment the claw started to rise.

“Rigged,” you said simply, “I never win at these.”

“No one does - I will, though.”

“Sure,” you giggled, watching him try once more. He got it but the stuffed cat, of course, slipped from the claws grasp.

“Third try, this is it. If I don’t get that damn thing, I’m gonna put a hole through the machine and get it myself.”

You were going to get that cat no matter what he had to do. It was undeniably sweet to see him so determined to do something for you, especially something as unserious as winning a stuffed animal.

You both watched anxiously as the claw lowered for the third and final time. The talons wrapped around Hello Kitty’s head once more and lifted her into the air. You gasped and watched in silent concentration as the claw took from one side of the box to the other, dropping her into the prize slot.

“Yeah!,” Logan exclaimed excitedly in his deep voice and you giggled at his enthusiasm.

“I mean,” he cleared his throat, “you’re welcome.”

You took Hello Kitty from the prize slot in the front of the machine and held her close to your chest.

“Thank you very much.”

He would’ve stayed at the damn machine all day to get that thing if he had to.

You all decide to leave a little while later, stepping into the parking lot, only to be met with light rain.

“Ugh,” you groaned, looking down at your shoes, “I just got these - if they get wet, they’re ruined.”

“I gotcha.”

Without a second to protest, Logan lifted you up with one arm under your knees and the other around your back. You giggled - something you couldn’t really help when his hands were on you - and grabbed ahold of the front of his jacket. You weren’t really sure why. You told yourself it was to keep him from dropping you, but you knew he never would, especially with how strong he was. Truthfully, it was probably just to keep him so close.

“Go carry your bride to the car,” Jean teased, nodding towards the vehicle parked not so far away. 

Neither of you challenged the ‘bride’ comment.

As Logan carried you the short distance, his hand on your back reached your side so he could poke you, knowing it made you ticklish.

“Ah!,” you squealed and laughed, kicking your feet, “you’re gonna drop me if you do that!”

He did it again and you squirmed, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you from hitting the ground.

Neither of you realized that when you had kicked around, one of the photo strips fell from the pocket of your jacket. Scott saw and picked it up before it could get wet without a second thought, failing to even look at what it was.

“Okay, okay, I’m done,” Logan finally replied, “promise.”

“Promise?”

“Nope!”

He poked your side and you shrieked out of instinct, lightly hitting his chest with your open palm.

“Logan!”

“Okay, really, I’ll stop.”

He set you down and opened the car door for you. You slid in to escape from the rain and he did the same, everyone else piling in after. Scott was in the front seat and remembered that he picked up something of yours. He pulled the paper from his jacket pocket and turned it around to figure out what it actually was, turning in his seat to speak to you at the same time.

“Hey, one of you dropped this pa-“

He went silent and smiled, chuckling to himself.

“What?” Logan asked, but when you saw what was in Scott’s hands, you instantly knew what it was.

“Oh, that’s not - that’s..” you tried to explain but your voice trailed off as Jean peeked at the photo from the passenger seat and gasped.

“Finally!” she turned the picture to Ororo so she could see, “I told you!”

You and Logan both made the same confused expression, looking between the three of them.

“ ‘Told you’ what?” he asked Ororo, who sat beside the two of you.

She sighed.

“Jean said you’d get together in the next month. I said it would be two months, so - she told me so.”

You and Logan were both still very confused.

“So you knew I liked him?” you asked Jean blatantly, but Logan spoke first.

“You liked me this whole time?”

“Yeah,” you felt bashful, “of course I did.”

“I liked you this whole time, though.”

“You did?”

“Alright, we get that you like each other,” Scott interrupted with a huff, “is there anything else you guys want to tell us?”

You were silent but Logan spoke again after a minute.

“Yeah, all the quarters I used in the arcade were yours.”

Scott was visibly grinding his teeth.

“Alright,” he turned back around and started the car, “we’re going home.”

Logan wrapped his arm around your shoulder like he did in the photo booth, lovingly pulling you into him so you could rest your head on him. 

You stayed like that the entire ride home, stuffed Hello Kitty tucked in your arms.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦

A/N: If you made it this far ily! and I wanted to say I'm absolutely still working on requests, I just take a long time to write </3

Anyway pls interact if you enjoyed and follow me 4 more!