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not-neverland06 · 6 months ago

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Kid?

Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader A/N: I haven’t watched X-Men since I was a child, so I can’t promise this is going to be canon-compliant. I haven’t watched DP & W either, I’ve just been influenced by that one gif where Hugh Jackman shakes his head like a dog. I feel FERAL Also, I am not good at superhero names or coming up with creative powers. So you’re a mutant with matter manipulation and they call you Flux. I mean, superhero names are inherently ridiculous so I think this works. (Don’t judge me, I’m just here for the sexy man) Summary: You walk in on Logan and Jean in a compromising position and feel your heart break. You really thought he loved you, you were so wrong. (Or were you?)

It was your own fault, you should have knocked before you busted through the door. You only have yourself to blame as you struggle to catch your breath and swallow down the lump in your throat. The image of Logan standing between Jean’s bare legs is going to haunt you for a while. Their faces will keep you awake at night, cringing at yourself while you remember the humiliating moment.

You rush towards the door, a stupidly giddy skip to your step. You were a mutant, a superhuman, and getting a chance to talk to your crush should not have you giggling like a schoolgirl. Still, you’re blind to all logic when it comes to Logan.

You turn the corner, spotting the medbay and nearly ramming into the door you know he’s lurking behind. Charles had told you where to find him. Of course, you hadn’t paid attention to the odd tone of voice when he had very clearly warned you to knock. All you’d heard was Logan’s name and you’d zoned out for the rest of the conversation.

And, of course, you don’t knock. You grab the door’s handle and bust in, “Hey!” Your eyes widen and your stomach plummets with a depressing plop to the floor. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the way Jean and Logan are entangled in each other. He’s leaning over her, the muscles and veins in his neck pulsing with strain. Normally, that sight would have you nearly drooling.

Instead, all you can see is the flush on Jean’s cheeks and the way her pupils are dilated with want. Her nails are digging into his back, bare legs twined around his waist. There’s no way to misinterpret this. No way for you to later assure yourself that this was all just a misunderstanding.

The words stumble out of your mouth in a disjointed mess that even you can’t decipher. You stand there, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water before you finally get it together. “Charles,” you stutter out, his name sounding like a question. You wince and finally tear your gaze away from them. “Sorry,” you chuckle, trying to play off your hurt as humor. “Charles needs us all for a mission.”

You don’t give them a chance to respond, you slam the door closed, ignoring what you think might be someone calling your name.

You shake off the mortifying memory and groan. Your head falls into your hands and you grip at your face until the pain distracts you from the embarrassment. It’s not too hard to push it all down, to pretend what happened didn’t make your heart crumble away into nothing.

Maybe it’s because you’re a mutant that you’re so used to rejection. You’re used to constantly being disappointed by people around you. Your childhood was nothing but cruelty, your crush not liking you back can’t compare to half of what you went through.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, to try and pretend it doesn’t hurt as much as it does. You shove it down until you think you can’t feel that dull ache anymore. And when Jean and Logan walk into the room, looking more put together, you smile at Logan like you always do. It doesn’t turn down at the corners, your eyes don’t water. You take in a deep breath and look utterly unaffected.

He sits down beside you and leans towards you. “I can explain-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “Forget about it. I should have knocked.” You turn towards Charles who wheels himself to the front of the room. You dismiss Logan and ignore the way his stare burns into the side of your head.

Charles looks to Jean and Logan, a smile starting. Then his gaze drifts towards you and your chest deflates when you see the look on his face. He knows, the old miser probably coasted over your thoughts and he knows. He sends you a sympathetic look that makes you feel like a little girl who just got told unicorns don’t exist. “Jean, Logan, glad that you’ve finally joined us.”

Logan nods and leans back in his chair. But his eyes remain fixed on you and it makes you wish you could stab a fork into them. You let out a short, irritated huff of air and frown at yourself. Maybe you were a little more angry than you would like to admit.

You blame Logan for that. You never would have fallen so deep into infatuation if you hadn’t believed there was even a sliver of a chance with him. Always speaking so kindly with you when he would barely spare anyone a second glance. Constantly doing checkups on you after a particularly harsh training session with Charles.

Your mind runs over all the small things with him, everything you’ve done together. And you’re hit with a sudden nauseating thought. Oh my god, what if he sees me paternally?

You force yourself not to physically react but inside your throwing up and fucking freaking out. You feel a sudden spark of alarm from Charles and quickly do your best to fortify your mind so he doesn’t see your major mental freakout.

You’re not that much younger than him. Well, it’s not illegal, your crush on Logan. But what if this entire time, when you’ve been falling harder and harder for him, he’s just been platonically taking care of you? You’ve seen him do it plenty of times for the younger kids, as reluctant as he is to admit it.

You’re spiraling further and further into panic. So much so that you have no idea what’s even being discussed or what’s going on. You get onto the jet and have to ask Storm what you’re doing. She gives you a confused look but tells you nonetheless. Just some recon on a potential mutant trafficking ring. Nothing out of the ordinary, as depressing as that is. There shouldn’t be much violence, which is why your group is particularly small today.

You nod your head, moving like you’re in a daze as you throw yourself onto a seat. Logan sits beside you, an alarmed look on his face. “You alright, kid?”

The nickname, which is used to make your stomach flutter, makes you want to throw up. How have you missed it for this long? It was laid out so plainly before you. Of course, he doesn’t want you. Not when he has perfect Jean. Bile rises in your throat with a vicious ferocity when you glare over at Jean.

There’s a sudden petty, vindictive rage fueling you. The type you should have abandoned in high school, especially now that you’re grown. Instead, you feel like giving into Logan’s idea of what you are. You feel like reacting to all of this petulantly.

You ignore Logan and instead catch Jean’s eyes. Slowly, and with as much intention as you can force into your gaze, you look from her to Logan and then Scott. Her eyes widen and Logan scoffs beside you. She shakes her head minutely, silently begging you not to say anything. You smile at her and stand up.

You take a step towards Scott and Logan calls out an irritated, “Kid.” You ignore him and Jean eyes you warily as you approach. She stands like she’s ready to fight you and take the jet down just to keep you quiet. You reach Scott and can hear the way Jean takes in a sharp breath.

“Scott,” he looks up at you with his brows raised. There's a pause before you speak. Dragged on too long for Scott not to realize you’re planning something.

Jean takes a step towards you and you grin, “Mind checking my cuffs?” Scott gives you an odd look and his confusion only gets worse as Jean slumps onto the seat beside him. She’s not even trying to hide her relief. Scott shakes his head and holds his hands out, fingers gently probing around the cuffs on your wrists. The ones that keep your powers in check.

You’re still new to welding them. And they’re too entwined with your emotions for you to just have free range with them. If you hadn’t had the cuffs on this morning, you’re afraid you might have just turned everything around you into nothing but dust.

“They look fine, Flux.” His tone betrays his thoughts. He doesn’t know why you’d come to him for this when it’s Charles who usually deals with it. But this stupid, petty little display wasn’t for poor oblivious Scott. It was for the woman sitting next to him. The redhead whose still drilling holes into your skull.

You’ve got leverage over her that you’ve never had before. Scott wouldn’t take her little foray with Logan very well. And all it would take is a flick of your wrist to give him a very clear image of exactly what you’d seen. Then, her picture-perfect relationship would be over in a matter of seconds. You’re sure Logan would be more than pleased. But he doesn’t seem to understand that Jean just wants to have fun with him, she’d never choose him over Scott.

“Thanks,” there’s a bite to your tone that you’re not used to. You usually keep your emotions relatively in control. That way you won’t have to wear these cuffs one day. But you feel volatile today. You’re channeling your hurt and turning it into misguided anger.

You drop your wrists to your sides and stalk toward the front, hovering behind Charle’s and Storm’s chairs so you don’t have to look at the others. It doesn’t take long for you to feel the floor trembling under heavy booted steps.

Logan’s arms rest on the headrest of the chairs, bracketing you in between them so you can’t escape. He leans forward until his chest is pushed against yours and you can feel every ridge of his muscled torso pressing into you. You try not to suck in a breath, try not to play into the cliche of instantly forgetting why you’re angry when you’re faced with those muscles of his. It is hard, though, because he’s so handsome and so warm and you just want to melt into him.

“Wanna explain what the hell that was?” His voice is so low, whispering against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. You feel the vibrations of it against your back, his tone more gravelly than it should be.

You glance over your shoulder at him, face placid and blank. “What? Just needed some help.” Storm looks over at you both and rolls her eyes.

Logan opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off. “Put a pin in the lover’s spat, we’re landing.” Using just a bit of your power, you push Logan off of you and head towards the back of the jet. There’s a slight jolt as you land and then the ramp opens up and you’re practically running into the snowy forest.

You don’t know where you are, mainly because you weren’t paying attention, you just know it's fucking freezing. The leather of your suit isn’t doing much to help fight against the chill. Charles stays on the jet and reminds you all that this is only meant to be recon. You’re partnered up with Logan, and as much as it irritates you, you’re not stupid enough to argue against it.

You have to put aside your personal grievances for this mission. You can’t risk the safety of mutants because the guy you like likes another girl. Logan seems pleased about it, stubbornly staying by your side even when you make it clear you want space.

You both linger behind the other’s as Storm leads you through the forest. Jean is being more touchy with Scott than normal. Either to assuage her own guilt or to rub it in Logan’s face, you’re not sure which. You nearly gag as you watch them whisper to one another, you glance over at Logan to see if he notices.

You’re startled when you see him already staring at you. His lips tick up into something mischievous when he catches your eye. That smug smirk on his face as he leans in towards you. “Wanna tell me what’s got you so pissed off?”

You roll your eyes and tamp down the rising tide of anger. “Nothing,” you bite out, jaw clenching the longer you stare at the back of Jean’s head. You’re surprised you haven’t chipped a tooth with how hard you’re grinding your teeth together.

He scoffs, not believing you for a second. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you an expectant stare. You can taste the words forming on your tongue, an irritating urge to just spill your guts overcoming you. Before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “I’m a little surprised that’s all.”

“Oh yeah, ‘bout what?” You hate how amused he sounds, the chuckle just lying in wait under his words. Like your anger is funny to him, like he didn’t just break your stupid fucking heart.

You stop walking, not feeling as intimidating as you want while you shiver and huddle into yourself. He seems perfectly at ease in his leather jacket and beater, still refusing to wear the uniform. He leans back and looks at you with a fondness that you can’t tell if you love or hate. “You and little Miss Perfect.” You spit the nickname with enough venom to make both of your eyes widen.

Logan rolls his eyes and takes a step towards you, again, Storm interrupts you both. “Guys, really?” Everyone turns around to stare and you will the heat in your face away. “Not the time,” she scolds and you brush past Logan to catch up with the others.

You come upon a warehouse, it’s nearly camouflaged under all the snow. You see two guards waiting outside the metal doors and you all disperse behind the trees. Storm glances towards Jean who focuses on the guards. They drop to the floor and you wave your hands, their guns melting into puddles of metal.

Logan and Scott move forward, sliding the large metal doors open. You wince at the loud screeching as the rust flakes off the sides. There’s a collective quiet as you all hold your breath, waiting for them to give the all-clear. Once they run inside and run back out, you and the others quickly get to your feet and rush into the warehouse. Logan closes the doors again as you make it inside.

“No one here?” Storm checks. Scott shakes his head and you frown. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would there be guards if there was nothing inside?

Your question is, unfortunately, answered a minute later. You find a pile of metal crates stacked on top of each other. A large beige tarp covers them. You tug at the corner, letting the fabric slide off. Your eyes flutter with disappointment, “Guys! Over here,” mutants sit inside the crates. Each of them stares at you with varying degrees of mistrust and fear.

As awful as it is, you’ve gotten used to these quiet depressing missions. There aren’t usually many mutants in one place. They don’t like to keep the product in one spot for too long. There are only four kids here. The youngest is eleven and the oldest is seventeen. There’s nothing physically telling about their abilities so you assume it must be psychic powers.

They don’t want to come with you until you all give them a demonstration of your powers. Proving that you’re not just trapping them and taking them somewhere worse. You’re nearly out the door when Charles's voice rings loudly through all of your minds.

You wince at the volume, hands coming up to grip at your hair as he shouts, “Behind you!” A gunshot rings out, something hot rips across your wrist and you gasp in pain. There’s a clatter of metal as your cuff drops to the ground, the bullet having destroyed it. Without them both, they’re useless. One won’t work without the other.

You glance up at Logan, a panicked look on your face. You can already feel the tidal wave of power thrashing and building in your chest. It’s been so long with the safety net that you forgot how bad it gets without the cuffs.

“We need to get you out of here!” He shouts over the gunfire. He herds the group behind a cluster of metal shipment boxes. It provides enough cover for you all to try and figure out an escape plan.

You listen to the other’s worried voices, each of them trying to console the kids. You don’t know their powers yet. Don’t know what might go wrong if they get too scared and can’t control their abilities.

You can’t speak, breaths coming short and fast as you clutch your wrist to your chest. You know it’s delusional, hoping that if you keep a tight grip like the cuff you might be able to control yourself. You can already feel the energy leaking out of you, the ends of everyone’s hair stands on end. The wall in front of you warps and cracks like it can’t decide if it’s liquid or solid.

You grit your teeth and look only at Storm. “You need to get out,” you force the words out. It causes physical pain to try and keep everything at bay. You can feel pressure building in your forehead, pushing out until you think you might explode.

“We’re not leaving you,” Logan snaps. There’s shouting going on behind you, a pause as they all reload their guns.

“Wasn’t a question,” you grit out. You look towards Jean and there’s a moment where you both put aside your differences. You both know how stubborn he is, how much he’ll fight against leaving you behind. Regenerative powers or not, it's dangerous to even be close to your gift now. You can see them all straining against the ebbing flow of your powers. Their skin shifts unnaturally like you’re already altering the atoms of their being.

This is why you’re only allowed to train with Charles and Jean. They can get in your head, shut it down when you can’t. You’re not sure you’re going to survive yourself. Logan glances between the two of you and practically growls at Jean, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare-”

His words trail off into an unintelligible slur as he slumps forward, Jean having knocked him out with her powers. Scott grabs him and grunts under the weight of his body. “I’ll cover you,” you gasp the words out. Anything but focusing on your powers causes physical strain that makes you feel like you’re being tugged in a hundred different directions. “Just get them out,” you nod towards the kids.

Storm nods and you slip out of cover. It isn’t hard to push your powers in one direction, to solidify the air in front of you so the bullets ricochet harmlessly off. You listen to the whine of the metal door and wait for the others to be gone.

“They’re in the jet,” Charles's voice rings out. “Don’t do this,” he warns. You can’t think of a response, you’re not even sure what you would say. You never thought you would be able to approach death this calmly, or that this would be how you die. It feels almost pathetic, dying because you lost control on a recon mission.

At least those kids are safe. It’s not a bad reason to die. Just not great. You glance down at the other cuff on your right hand, the air around it fluctuates until it melts off your wrist like liquid metal. With the last barely there tether off your powers, you close your eyes and release the tidal wave.

It feels like a dam exploding. It doesn’t leak fluidly from you, it rips through you like a hailstorm of knives. Tears apart anything in its path and rewrites the molecular build of everything in its path. Screams echo through the air as men’s bones turn into brittle dust and their hearts morph into something inorganic. You’re blind to everything around you, vision clouded by the horrific release of energy.

You can feel warmth leaking down your face. Blood still pours from the wound on your wrist, and fresh blood from other wounds you can’t even feel. You don’t know when the screams stop, or when you’re finally drained. But you feel like an empty husk as you drop to the floor, your head bouncing harshly against the cement as everything goes black.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Logan says with a grin, glaring at Scott even though it’s Charles who is holding him back. He’s got a firm mental grasp on Logan, keeping him locked into place while he focuses on the warehouse.

They’re waiting for the all-clear. The others know there’s always the possibility that they’re going to be collecting a body. But none of them are willing to say that, not with the look on Logan’s face. His muscles look ready to pop out of his skin with how much he’s fighting against Charles’s hold.

Scott backs away from Logan with a scoff. He stands near Jean, but she can’t take her eyes off the restrained man. Nothing had happened this morning, Flux had seen to that. Interrupting them just as they’d started. Seeing the way he’s acting now, she’s starting to believe that nothing is ever going to happen.

He’d looked like he was about to dismiss her when she started making a move. She can see the anger on his face, it seems he’s only ever pissed off. But underneath that, as much as he hides it, she can see the fear. He’s terrified that they're going to walk in there and you’re going to be dead.

Jean can feel the fear of the others as well. They’ve only seen you lose control once and that had almost leveled the mansion. Charles had stopped you then, but the loss of the cuff had been so sudden Jean just barely had enough strength to keep the others blocked from your powers. She didn’t have enough time to shut you down.

Jean, as much as she’s tried to deny it and dismiss her suspicions, can’t look Logan in the eye and ignore it anymore. It’s never been her that he’s wanted. The way he trails along beside you, always prodding and poking until you’re pissy and mouthing off. It’s not done because he finds antagonizing people fun, it's because he loves seeing you all worked up and passionate. He doesn’t view you through the same platonic lens he does the others. You’re something else to him, something she doesn’t want to name, afraid of the bitter taste it will leave on her tongue.

Charles slumps back in his chair and Logan suddenly lunges forward. He looks a little surprised by the sudden freedom of movement, but before any of them can stop him he’s running out of the jet. “Logan,” Jean tries to call after him but he’s already a distant blur.

Scott sighs and starts down the ramp. “Come on,” he mutters. He’s the last one who should be coming along. If anything is wrong with you, he’ll end up being Logan’s punching bag. Jean follows reluctantly, she’s not sure she wants to see what’s happened.

Your powers are too similar in their volatile nature. The way they rule you and come so close to destroying you when you use them too much, is too familiar to Jean. She doesn’t want to see you lying dead on the floor and be reminded of her own mortality. But someone needs to make sure Logan is stuck on a leash.

They reach where the warehouse should be. It’s nothing but a pile of rubble now. Throughout the wreckage, Jean can make out odd pools of liquid, some writhing, others still. She can only assume that these had been the men shooting at them. She doesn’t see your body, none of them do. But Logan isn’t giving up.

He lifts different pieces of metal and tosses them off into the forest. Jean doesn’t sense your presence anywhere but she doesn’t have the heart to tell Logan to give up. After a few minutes of searching, she almost tells him to quit. But she can’t see him anymore. He’s disappeared somewhere behind a particularly large pile of roofing. A moment later, Logan stands up. His jacket is gone, wrapped around the body in his arms. None of them are close enough to see if you’re breathing. And he doesn’t say a word as he brushes past them, just keeps going back to the jet. Ororo, Scott, and Jean all share a silent look. None of them prepared for the potential fallout that’s going to happen after this.

The first thing you feel is two familiar bands of metal around your wrists. The comforting feeling of the cuffs is enough to have you sinking further into the pillows surrounding you. Then you hear the beeping in your ear, feel the cool blow of AC, and become startlingly aware of the fact that you’re in a bed you don’t recognize.

You groan, eyes peeling open painfully as your lashes get stuck on your skin. You reach up to rub at your face but your arms feel too weak to lift. You give up on the thought, instead staring up at the ceiling and waiting for your vision to refocus.

A throat clears in front of you and you nearly jump out of your skin. Sitting at the end of your bed, arms crossed and a fierce glare on his face is Logan. His feet are propped up on the small table beside you. He quirks a brow and gives you a sardonic grin, “Finally awake, princess?”

Normally the name would have you up and doing somersaults, but there’s something distinctly negative and disappointed lacing his tone. It squashes any and all butterflies in your stomach. You grimace as you try and sit up. Logan is up in an instant, an annoyed look still on his face as he helps you up.

You can’t help your dopey smile at how gentle his hands are on you. Even pissed off, he treats you so kindly. Maybe it’s the drugs relaxing you, or the fact that you almost died, but you can’t remember whatever made you mad at him. You can only feel the slide of his calloused hands against your arms, the way you shiver under his touch and crave more.

He pulls the chair closer to you with a loud scratch of metal feet on the linoleum. You groan at the loud sound and he huffs, throwing himself down in the seat. “How do you feel?”

Your head sinks back against the wall and you finally realize you’re in the medbay. It’s why everything smells so sterile. “Like I got hit by a semi.”

He barely lets you finish your thought before he spits out, “What the fuck were you thinking?” He doesn’t ease you into this at all and you frown. You’re not sure why you would expect him to ever beat around the bush. That’s not his style, he’s always been blunt. Even when others wish he wouldn’t be.

“What else was I supposed to do?” You ask, voice weak. Your throat feels like it’s been ripped apart. Idly, you wonder if you had been screaming in the warehouse or if this was just general strain from the whole ordeal.

“Not put yourself at risk like that.” He leans forward, voice stern and bordering on shouting. You know he’s holding back. As much as he wants to lay into you right now, he’s stopping himself from going completely out of his mind. You appreciate it, but you almost wish he would just yell at you. You wish you had a reason to resent him, to finally get over him. “Not have Jean knock me out like that. You don’t get to make those decisions for me.”

It’s completely inappropriate and horrible timing, but you can’t help but scoff at the mention of Jean’s name. Can you not have one conversation that’s not tainted by the mention of the redhead?

Logan’s mouth snaps shut and he glares at you in disbelief. You squeeze your eyes shut, not willing to face him as embarrassment washes over you. No wonder he always calls you kid. You’re not exactly acting like an adult. You’re being a brat and for such a stupid reason too.

Just because you like him doesn’t mean he has to reciprocate. You can’t just force your feelings on someone. “Logan,” you whisper his name, “Sorry. I’m sorry-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. Some of the anger, but not all, has ebbed from his expression. He almost looks like he’s smiling. “Jean? That’s what this is about? Jealous or something, sweetheart?”

You sputter, shocked little noises leaving you but no words. After a solid minute of restarting a sentence you don’t know how to end you finally land on a squeaky, “Who?” If you weren’t so mortified, you might have just thrown yourself out the window. Out of every cop-out you could have gone with you chose to just pretend you didn’t know who she was. Maybe you could make this work, like selective amnesia.

Your shame only builds as Logan laughs. You cover your face and wish you could bury yourself six feet deep and never come up. You feel two rough hands wrap around your wrists, tugging your own away from your face. You don’t have the energy to fight back, so you keep your eyes on his chin. Too afraid to meet his gaze.

“Come on,” he mutters, gently nudging your chin up until you’re forced to look at him. You're caught off guard by the look in his eyes. You recognize it, but you’d only ever seen it directed at Jean. It’s the same way you’ve always looked at him. Pure unguarded want and desire.

The hand on your chin drifts back, fingers tangling in your hair and gently resting on your jaw. He tugs you forward until your lips are nearly touching, breaths mingling with every exhale. “Only ever wanted you, darlin'.’”

The kiss catches you off guard. It shouldn’t, deep down you knew it was coming, but the intensity behind it, the way you can practically taste how bad he wants this, wants you, catches you off guard. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting yourself melt into his hold.

His free hand drifts to your waist and clutches the flimsy hospital gown until you hear it tear. You part your lips, deepening the kiss so you can finally taste him. It’s cigars and whiskey, something you should hate but is entirely intoxicating when he’s holding you so tightly. Fireworks are going off in your mind, sparks darting between your fingers as the cuffs struggle to contain all the energy suddenly pushing out of you.

He can feel you holding back, squeezing you like it’s a promise he can take it. Take everything you throw at him. You let go as much as your cuffs will allow you. Let the energy blanket you both so you can’t hear your heart monitor going off like crazy. So you don’t feel anything other than each other. You think you’re going to devour each other like you’ll just keep kissing until neither of you can take it anymore. You don’t want to let go of him, don’t want to lose this moment.

But you have to breathe. You don’t get to just keep living the way he does. You pull away from him slowly, every part of you dreading separating from him. His forehead drops against your own, his laughter playing along your lips as he finally hears the monitor going haywire.

You groan, flicking your wrist and shutting it off so it can’t betray how flustered you are anymore. He gently nudges you aside so he can sit beside you on the bed. You don’t waste a second before you’re draping yourself across his chest and siphoning his warmth. He chuckles, arms coming up to wrap around you.

“Can’t believe you were jealous of Jean.”

“Shut up,” you snipe. You look up at him and glare, “How else do you explain what you two were doing?”

He leans forward and gives you a smug grin. “She came onto me, sweetheart.” Your face screws up in distaste and jealousy. She’s going to need to learn to keep her hands to herself. He seems to feel the way you tense up, he huffs in amusement and rubs your back. “Relax, you’re gonna blow your fuse again.”

You glance down at your wrists and nuzzle further into him. You can’t believe you could have been laying on him this whole time. You never want to use a blanket again, not when you’ve got him. “I’ll be fine now that I’ve got my cuffs.”

His hand stills on your bicep. He squeezes it before his hand drifts up to your chin and he tilts your face up again. “I don’t ever want to see that again.” You’re a little surprised by the sudden shift in tone, but you knew this was coming.

“I had to, Logan. I either took you all down with me or I went on my own.”

Logan frowns and takes in a deep breath. You place a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He smiles down at you, “Next time, take me with you. I’m not fucking dealing with Summers without you.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Your face grows warm and your chest expands with some odd gleeful feeling as he laces your fingers together. “Deal,” you whisper, still smiling at him.

A/N: Okay, this might be shit, I’m not sure. I sort of rushed the ending because as I was writing this I had another idea for him. I guess I’m officially off my hiatus.

#wolverine x reader #Wolverine x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #x men #deadpool and wolverine #Wolverine

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traveler-at-heart · 4 months ago

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Good Luck Babe

Summary: Wanda's boyfriend is the biggest asshole you've ever met. You think she'll choose you in the end.

Wanda Romanoff x F!R, eventual Natasha Romanoff x F!R

A/N: Don't be fooled by the summary, this is a Natasha Romanoff x R fic

Classes can be a drag. Especially the early mornings, where not even a cup of coffee can make you focus.

And then, there’s Wanda Maximoff, looking at the professor as she speaks, diligently taking notes while looking perfect, as usual.

She catches you staring and you have to look away, pretending that you weren’t just wondering how she manages to look effortlessly beautiful.

Class is dismissed and you take a minute to pack your things, preparing for the next session. You try not to roll your eyes as you find Wanda with her idiot boyfriend right at the door. As usual, they take up too much space, and you have to push one of them aside.

“Coming through, princess”

You don’t have to look back to know Wanda glares at you, annoyed at the nickname.

To be fair, the first time you used it you thought you were both involved in playful banter. Hell, you even meant it to be flirty, but she took great offense in it, which was the case with most things you did, whether they were aimed at her or not.

It was pretty clear she hated your guts. You just didn’t know why.

——

“I don’t know what her problem is” Wanda says, the music loudly booming across the house.

“What?” Jarvis says, leaning forward because he didn’t hear a word Wanda said. Partly due to the loud music and also because he’s looking at other girls, albeit discreetly.

“Y/N. She’s always being a total ass” the girl says, watching as you enter the house, avoiding her stare.

“She’s just jealous because you’re so pretty” he says and that’s enough to distract Wanda.

Across the room, you curse under your breath at the sight of the Maximoff girl. God, you hate her stupid boyfriend. Always runnig his mouth to his friends about Wanda, telling them private things… you’d overheard them at a bar once and it took every ounce of your being not to kill him right then and there.

Not to mention, the rumoured affairs that everyone knew about. Everyone, but Wanda, that is.

“You made it!” Carol greets you, and then follows your gaze. “Ugh, that guy’s the worst”

“Agree” you nod, turning to look at her. “Shots?”

“Hell, yeah” your friend says, taking you to the kitchen where Val is pouring some alcohol.

To your relief, you get to avoid Wanda for the entirety of the night, and as your friends arrive you quickly forget what had soured your mood in the first place.

Wanda, on the other hand, is not having such a great time. At some point while she was chatting with Pepper, she lost sight of Jarvis and can’t seem to find him anywhere. Knowing Stark could get crazy ideas, she worries that they might be doing something reckless so she goes around the house, looking for her boyfriend.

She’s expecting everything but seeing him with his pants around his ankles while a girl Wanda doesn’t even know gives him head.

“Wanda!” Jarvis shouts, startled.

“That’s not my name” the girl says, smiling playfully. “Or are we role playing?”

“I need to get out of here” Wanda says, closing the door.

Of course, he chases her down the hall, desperately sayig any excuse he can think of. Wanda tries to walk past him, but he blocks her from going downstairs.

“Don’t be so uptight about it” he loses his patience when Wanda refuses his apology. “Guys just need to do it more than girls, it meant nothing”

“You’re an ass” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Wanda, don’t leave” he warns, as she finally walks around him to go to the first floor. The shouting makes some people turn around, and it’s almost impossible to ignore the commotion.

You’re standing next to Val and Darcy, unable to look away as the oh so happy couple keeps shouting at each other.

“Guess he got caught red handed this time” Darcy mutters. She and Wanda were friends but had a fallout and you suspected it had to do with Jarvis and his side pieces.

“Let go of me” Wanda insists when he takes her arm, pulling her close to him.

“People are staring, shut your fucking mouth”

“You’re hurting me” she protests, trying to losen his grip.

Maybe it’s the way she says it, so defeated or even scared, but those words make you snap, and you walk up to them, pushing Jarvis away.

“Stay out of it” he warns.

“Make me”

You are expecting the first punch so you dodge it in time, but he manages to land another one on your mouth, and you feel the taste of blood.

“You’re gonna regret this” you say, launching yourself forward until you knock him over, landing on a coffee table that breaks. Grabbing him by the shirt, you land two punches and go for a third one when he kicks you, making you gasp for air.

“That’s enough” Thor steps in, his brother looking delighted at the chaos. “You better leave”

Jarvis glares at him, but truth be told, Thor doesn’t like him and he is your friend. He leaves the Odinson house, cursing under his breath.

“I’m fine” you tell your friends as they bring over ice to put on your cheek.

“Want us to take you home?” Carol offers.

“It’s good” you say, shaking your head. “I should go, take some painkillers”

“Call us if you need anything”

“Ok” you pat Darcy’s back, leaving the house where everyone’s partying like nothing even happened.

As you walk to your car, you spot Wanda, sitting on the sidewalk, wiping away the tears that roll down her cheeks.

“You ok?” you ask, standing next to her.

“He’s an idiot. No, I’m the idiot for being with him” she rambles.

There’s a very sarcastic comment at the tip of yout tongue but you save it.

“Did he drove you here?” Wanda nods and you jiggle the car keys. “Come on, I’ll drive you to your dorm”

“I don’t want to be alone” Wanda hugs her knees, and in spite of everything, your heart aches for her.

“Any friends that can take you in for the night?” she shakes her head no and you sigh. “Wanna stay at my place?”

“Are you sure it’s ok?”

“Yeah, come on” you say, walking to the car. You drive in silence, eager to get home and put some more ice on the punch.

Wanda gets out of the car and follows you to the dorm you share with Carol, who usually stays with Val most nights.

“Take the bed” you say, handing over some clean clothes so she can change.

Wanda looks at you, and you feel uncomfortable at the intensity of her gaze.

“I… thank you, Y/N”

“Sleep tight, princess” you say with a smile and for the first time she doesn’t look upset as you call her that.

——

The smell of bacon and butter wakes you up and you stretch, trying to remember why you’re in the couch.

When you see Wanda in your kitchen, everyhing that happened comes back and you groan, rubbing the sleep off your eyes.

“Ouch” you say when you rub close to the punch on your cheek.

“You’re up” Wanda says, smiling. It’s a strange sight, as she’s used to glaring at you or just ignoring your presence.

“You sleep ok?” you say, trying to hide your blush when you notice she’s still wearing the clothes you let her borrow.

“Yeah, thanks” she nods, pulling up two plates with pancakes. “I wanted to thank you for everythig you did last night”

“No need” you say, grabbing a fork and eating. Wanda’s just being nice and you honestly don’t want to force her to interact with you, so all you want is to finish your food and give her an out so she can leave.

“He’s been texting me” Wanda says, looking at her food but not eating anything. “Saying it was a mistake, a one time thing and that it would never happen again”

“And you believe him?” you try to control your tone.

“I’d heard the rumors… even from Darcy. You probably know already”

“We assumed that’s why you fought, but she told us it was none of our business. And I know this isn’t none of mine, but you deserve better”

Wanda giggles at that and you look at her, intrigued.

“I’m just… I thought you didn’t like me”

“Where’d you get that?”

“The nickname, your constant glares across the room…”

Oh, shit. Here you were thinking you were obvious about your crush, and Wanda thinks you hate her.

“I hate… Jarvis. I knew he was a dick so I always disliked him. Seeing him with you. Yeah”

“Do you like me?” Wanda asks and you take a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders.

The girl smiles, finishing her food. You stay in the kitchen, fidgeting with your fork until she comes back, changed into her own clothes.

“I should get back. Do you need anything? Painkillers, ice?” she leans forward, her hand touching your bruise gently. Then, you notice her eyes drifting to your lips.

“I’m fine” you say and she nods, stepping back.

“See you in class?”

“Yes” you say, smiling as she waves goodbye. Carol walks in ten seconds later, looking behind her.

“Was that…?”

“Yes”

“Did you…?”

“No” you cut her off. “She just didn’t want to be alone after what happened”

“Y/N…” Carol says in that tone you dislike so much. You’re about to get scolded over something that isn’t that big of a deal.

“Carol, come on. She slept in my room, I stayed on the couch. That’s it”

“I just don’t want to see you getting hurt” your friend says and you nod. “I mean, you got a split lip and a black eye already so maybe it’s a little late for that”

“Yeah, that’s true. Come on, there are some pancakes left”

——

You tell yourself it means nothing. Wanda sits next to you during class, and offers a second scone she got from the cafeteria.

“How’s the eye?”

“I’m not blind” you shrug your shoulders. “Jarvis hits like a little bitch”

Wanda snorts at that, and you can’t hold back your own laugh. That attracts the attention of Professor Harkness, who focuses on your eye.

“Do I even want to to know, Y/L/N?”

“Nah” you shake your head and she rolls her eyes.

“Alright”

With that, the lesson begins. You try hard to focus, but Wanda smells really nice and you’re only human. At one point, she shuffles in her seat, her leg coming in contact with yours and you give up on taking notes.

“You ok?” to your surprise, Wanda follows you out of the classroom. “I can let you borrow my notes, if you want”

“Wanda” you stop abruptly, sighing. “Listen, you don’t owe me anything. I helped because it was the right thing to do. So don’t worry about paying me back in any way”

“That’s not… ” she stutters, fixing her hair. “I don’t really have any friends. I was always with him”

“Oh” you feel like an idiot. “Well, ok. I could use those notes”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, come on. I’ll trade them for a coffee” you smile, walking next to her to the library.

—

It surprises you, how much you and Wanda have in common. She likes sitcoms and though you’re more of a Friends kind of girl, it’s fun to watch those old shows where they dance and sing from time to time.

“I only know Dick Van Dyke from Mary Poppins” you confess one time, which prompts Wanda to invite you to her dorm for a marathon.

“Where are you going?” Darcy says when you walk past her and Carol that evening.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun” Carol smiles and you glare at your friend.

“Well, Wanda and I…”

“Oh, my God! You traitor. Brutus!” Darcy shouts, throwing a napkin at you. “She’s the worst”

“I wouldn’t know. You didn’t tell me what happened”

“She got you there” Carol points out, eating popcorn while she enjoys the show.

“That is besides the point”

“Look, I’m not putting Wanda on my will or anything, we’re just hanging out. And if she mentions you, I’ll be the first one to defend you”

Darcy sighs, chewing on her lip.

“It’s not about me. Wanda has the habit of just… using people when she’s bored or on a break from that idiot. And then they get back together and forgets about you. Which sucks. I wouldn’t want it to be the case for you, that’s all”

“I’ll be careful” you promise.

Once at Wanda’s, you’re trying to enjoy the show, but Darcy’s words are echoing in your head. You had to admit that if you spent more time with Wanda, you’d probably develop an even bigger crush. And if she went back to that asshole, it would hurt you.

Was it really worth it?

“Is the show boring? We can watch something else. I know it’s weird that I like this” Wanda pauses mid episode.

“No, it’s just… Darcy said some things…”

“Oh. I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t want to hang out anymore” she sighs, looking down at her hands.

“I’m just thinking… maybe it would be good if you fix things with her? Say sorry. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it”

“I can try, but you know her. She won’t make it easy” you both laugh at that. “Is that all?”

“Yeah” you lie. “Come on, let’s keep watching. I wanna know if Rob goes to Ritchie’s play”

Wanda smiles, this time moving closer to you. Her head rests on your shoulder, relaxing against you. It’s so intoxicating, to have her so close, to feel her warmth.

And all you can think over and over again is “please don’t break my heart”. But you can’t ask for the impossible.

—

You’re really not expecting Wanda to take your suggestion at heart, but one day you see her speaking with Darcy in the hallway, your friend pretending to not be interested in the conversation at all.

The only sign that she actually forgives Wanda is when you’re sitting with the girl at the cafeteria and Darcy sits next to you, carrying a tray.

“This is the only seat that I could find” she mutters unconvincingly, making you and Wanda smile.

Though you spent most of the time in each other’s dorms, watching movies or shows. You learn that Jarvis was the one that dragged Wanda to all those parties and anytime you invite her to one she politely declines.

Now, you’re staying in while the rest of your friends are at the Odinson mansion. You don’t know if they’re allergies or a mild cold, but you’ve been feeling sick all day and wanted to rest.

“Coming” you groan when someone knocks. You open the door to find Wanda on the other side. “You’ll get sick, what are you doing here?”

“I made you soup”

“Thanks” you take the container, and you gotta admit the idea of warm soup makes your mouth water. “I’d say do you want to come in, but I really do worry this might be contagious”

“I’ll be fine” she walks inside, finding her usual place in the couch and patting the spot next to her. “Come on. We’ll even watch that boring show you like”

“The Office is not boring!” you huff, making her laugh.

A couple of episodes later, and you feel your eyes slowly closing, a side effect from the medicine you took. Wanda notices, and makes you walk to your room.

As you lay in bed, you’re drifting off to sleep when you feel Wanda sliding next to you, her hand on your forehead.

“Your fever is down”

“Mhm. Thanks to the magic soup”

“I’m staying, in case you need anything”

“Ok, baby” you nod, too sleepy to notice what you’re saying.

Wanda’s heart flutters at the term of endearment, and she watches you sleep peacefully, her mind racing with thoughts about what could this possibly mean to you both.

On the other hand, you don’t remember anything and are startled when you feel someone sleeping next to you.

“Wanda?” you say when you turn around, smiling at how cute she looks, all confused.

“I must have fallen asleep here. How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks” you lay on your side, still smiling. Wanda is still thinking about the way you called her and it’s fairly obvious you don’t remember.

Still, she leans forward and you almost watch in slow motion as her lips meet yours in a short kiss.

“Why did you…”

“You make me feel… I don’t know. Safe. I’m sorry, if I crossed line. Maybe I should go…” she sits up and you follow suit, making her turn to you.

This second kiss is a bit more urgent and less delicate, but you hope it makes a point.

“Now I really hope that what I had wasn’t contagious”

Wanda laughs at that, her hand over yours.

——

The next few weeks you grow closer to Wanda. You spend most of the time at her place, watching sitcoms and more often than not, you end up making out on her bed, until you’re both out of breath.

She also enjoys teasing you endlessly, like that time she sat next to you in Agatha’s class and put her hand on your thigh. Your knee jolted forward, crashing against the table and making the professor glare at you.

This time, you’re supposed to be studying in your room, but you find that looking at Wanda as she goes over her notes is far more interesting.

“Stop” she says after a few minutes and you smile.

“I’m not doing anything”

“You’re staring”

“Can you blame me?” you crawl behind her, placing small kisses down her neck. She sighs at the contact, leaning against your front.

“Are you doing this to get my notes?”

“Maybe” you laugh against her shoulder, making her turn until you’re kissing her, and she pushes you down on the bed, straddling your lap.

“You better work for them, then”

Next day, when you’re done with your test, the first thing you do is reach for Wanda’s hand. To your surprise, she flinches away, grabbing the strap of her bagpack.

“Did you do ok on the test?” she’s quick to ask, hoping you won’t push it too much.

“I think so, yeah”

“If you pass, I’d say you owe me for borrowing my notes” she smiles.

“Well, we could go out to the movies. Or dinner?” you suggest, your heart beating faster. It’s a thought that has been going through your mind recently.

Not that you don’t enjoy the kissing and sneaking around, but you’re eager to take Wanda out, find new places together, talk about something else other than classes and her old shows.

“I’m not sure I can make it” Wanda says, avoiding your eyes again.

This new rejection stings and you drop your shoulders, looking for an excuse to leave.

“Yeah, you’re right. We have lots of stuff to do. I’ll catch you later” you say, walking faster and not waiting for Wanda’s reply.

The rest of the day is spent in your dorm, which isn’t unusual. The only difference is that you’re alone instead of enjoying Wanda’s company, and hiding from seeing her.

“Wanna go to Joe’s with us?” Carol offers. “To celebrate midterms are over”

“Sounds fun” you agree, because it’s been forever since you’ve been with your friends.

“You can invite your girl”

“She’s not my girl”

“Oh?” Carol tilts her head to the side, putting the pieces together. “So that’s why you only hang out in the dorms”

“What did you think we were doing?”

“Having sex like crazy”

No answer comes to you, because sex is something that hasn’t happened yet. Or maybe never, considering Wanda doesn’t want anything more.

“I don’t think she knows what she wants, Carol”

“Do you?” she asks gently. Your immediate response is a shrug of your shoulders, and it’s a lie, because you know exactly what you want. “Come on, it’s her loss then. Let’s just go out and have fun”

Meeting your friends does improve your mood and you’re happy you listened to Carol. You eat and play pool, until everyone gets restless and looks for something else to do.

“Heard Stark is having a party” Carol says, knowing he always gets the fancy booze.

“Pass” you’re the first one to speak.

“Why?”

“Isn’t he best friends with Jarvis?” Darcy says. “We don’t want to have another fight, do we?”

“Oh come on, there will be so many people he won’t even notice that you’re there!” Carol insists, and you can tell she’s gonna be stubborn and annoying until she gets what she wants.

So, you agree, but spend the whole time looking around, waiting for that jerk to pop out of nowhere and pick up a fight.

“I don’t think he’s here” Darcy says, patting your back. “Let’s just have some fun, then Val will drag Carol out of here and we can go home, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan” you nod.

For the next hour, you do enjoy the party and are even surprised when Tony seems happy to see you. To be fair, he is a lot nicer than most of his friends. You’re relaxed, dancing to the music and doing shots with Darcy and Val, almost forgetting why you were so sad in the first place.

That is, until you walk out of the living room to get another beer, but the place is so crowded you bump into a girl.

“Sorry, are you ok?” you say, turning to make sure she’s fine.

Your stomach drops when your eyes meet Wanda’s.

She calls for you, but the sound of her voice is drowned out by the music and the ringing in your ears. Jarvis says Wanda’s name, and you take advantage of the distraction to escape, pushing people out of the way.

When the fresh air hits you, the first thing you do is bend over the railing of the porch and throw up, coughing and wretching violently.

“It’s ok” Darcy comes out of nowhere, getting the hair out of your face.

“Shit” Val sobers up immediately. “Time to go home?”

“Yeah, come on. Let’s get a cab” Carol says, patting your back.

They think you’re wasted, but all you are is heartbroken. Wanda was with him, after everything you’ve been through.

The shame over being so naive makes you stay in your dorm for the entire day.

Wanda shows up the minute Carol leaves.

“You should go”

“Please let me explain”

“I don’t think that’s possible” you shake your head. You know it, deep down. She’ll never give you a place in her life.

“We’re just… friends. He wanted to talk, apologize”

“Wanda” you plead, hoping she’ll stop. But instead, she pushes past you, her hands in your face.

“I can’t lose you”

“Why would I stay?”

Wanda answers with a kiss, that is slow at first, and then borderline agressive. You’re pushing, then pulling, unsure of what you want from her, but she pulls your pants down, just enough for her hand to fit, moving past your underwear and circling your clit. Your nails dig into her shoulders, gasping and breathing as she enters roughly, her fingers moving fast and hard.

It’s not nice or affectionate, but a way to further claim you, ruin you, brand you. Now she’s reached and touched more of you, and you’ll never be able to erase it.

Your orgasm comes unexpectedly, and after the high, you come crashing down. All you feel is bitterness and guilt and anger. Wanda stays inside, biting your neck. The sting reminds you, you’re only gonna get pain out of this.

—

It becomes a vicious circle. Wanda is distant in public, because more often than not Jarvis is by her side. And then, she corners you in any spot she can find, kissing you and pressing her body against yours.

The more you let her in, the weaker you are and it’s nearly impossible to stay away. It will hurt if she leaves, and it hurts to be with her.

“I don’t know how to stay away” you confess to Carol one particularly hard night. Darcy was called to offer her support, and she provided that along with snacks. “You were right, Darcy”

“I didn’t want to be” she says, holding your hand. “You’re the only one who can put a stop to this. She’ll never stop looking for you”

You can’t see yourself doing that, but then you walk past her in the hallway, and you hear her saying those words to Jarvis.

“I love you”

You couldn’t even get her to hold your fucking hand.

Pushing past her, you walk away, hoping to find the nearest bathroom and lock yourself there. Lucky for you, Wanda doesn’t follow you.

There’s someone else waiting outside.

“Miss Y/L/N” Professor Harkness greets and you nod, looking at your feet and hoping she doesn’t notice your red eyes.

“Professor”

“You’re too advanced for my class. My wife has a spot in her lecture. New people to impress, most of them pHD students”

Her emphasis in the new makes you understand.

You won’t have to see Wanda in class.

“Ok. I’d like that”

“Keep your head high, kiddo” Agatha says, her hand on your chin. “And don’t tell any of this to Rio or she’ll accuse me of going soft”

“Yes, Professor Harkness. Thank you”

“Mhm” she nods, giving her signature smirk and turning around.

One less place where you’ll have to see Wanda.

Soon after that, you change everything about your routine. Where you eat, study, even go out for runs. Hell, you change your phone number and Darcy is kind enough to let you stay with her for a while. That, and the Thanksgiving break are enough to give you three weeks of space.

It hurts and more than once you have to stop yourself from looking for Wanda. But what’s the point of being a secret? The longer it goes on, the more it will hurt.

Still, there are days when anger weights heavier than sadness. You’re mad at yourself, for being so stupid. At Wanda, because she was a coward and a liar. And those times, you get restless and go out to run, listening to music until you reach a hidden lake. It’s one of the few places you can be at peace, because you found it after Wanda broke your heart. So, there’s no ghost of her here, only you and your conflicting emotions.

Throwing stones at the lake is a way to pass time, and you’re doing exactly that when you hear rustling behind you.

“Sorry” a raspy voice says. Your eyes meet green ones, but these are softer, almost shy. The girl has beautiful red hair, braided with a few strands lose. She misinterprets your silence, and quickly retreats. “I’ll find another spot”

“That’s ok. I can… I can go”

“No, you don’t have to” she’s quick to reassure.

“Well, we can always share” you propose, smiling. The girl nods, and places her bagpack next to a log. She pulls out a book, and begins reading. You continue throwing rocks, stealing glances here and there.

“Is the book any good?” you finally ask.

“Depends”

“On what?”

“On your fascination with social expectations in Russian society during the 19th century”

“Pass. Got anything lighter?” you joke. To your surprise, the girl pulls out another book.

“How about the perils of indulging in romantic fantasies?”

“I know those very well” you say, grimacing. She puts the book down, smiling at you. You try to smile back, but turn your attention back to the lake until you’re able to calm down.

“Lit major?” you guess, pointing at the spot next to her. She moves her bag, allowing you to sit.

“Yeah. You?”

“Anthropology. Minor in Art History. I’m surprised we haven’t seen each other in the building”

“I'm a grad student, so I’m usually at the library” the girl says.

“No parties?”

“No one ever invites me” she shakes her head.

“I’d invite you” you blurt out, finding her blush adorable. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be forward”

“It’s not… you’re fine”

“So. Anna Karenina and Madame Bovary. Are you trying to find out if Tolstoy really wrote his book with Flaubert’s in mind?”

The girl gives you an appreciative smile, nodding.

“Yeah, but it’s more about how men in 19th century wrote about women. Even in two different societies, the protagonists are punished for following their desires”

“No one should be punished for that” you say, looking at her. She averts her eyes, holding back a smile.

“Why Anthropology?” she changes the subject.

“Because. We’re the same and we’re not, even thousand of years apart. Isn’t that fascinating?”

“How so?”

“Do you think you have anything in common with someone who lived thirty thousand years ago?”

“We need food to survive. Sleep, water, oxygen” she lists, and you nod.

“Mhm. All basic needs. Next question, did you make a drawing of your hand when you were a kid?”

“Everyone did” she says, as if it’s obvious.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to see what it looked like. Because it was my hand and no one else’s”

“And people thirty thousand years ago thought the same thing. And left their handprint in a cave in Southern France. Isn’t that something wonderful?”

She stays silent for a second and then smiles.

“I suppose it is, yes. To have an impact, so long after you’re gone too”

“You get it” you nod. “I’m Y/N, by the way”

“Natasha” she says, smiling at you.

The next few days, you catch yourself thinking about Natasha, and even with all the distractions, your mind goes back to her. It takes every ounce of self control to not wait everyday by the lake. Why would you want to get hurt, when you just started healing?

Love never ends well for Anna Karenina, Emma Bovary or yourself.

And yet… three days later you’re by the lake, holding a book of your own collection and an extra scone. You’re about to give up when Natasha shows up, and she seems as eager as you.

“Hey”

“Hi” she answers, a smile on her face. “Am I interrupting lunch?”

“This is for you. I mean, I was hoping I’d see you here” you stutter, looking everywhere but Natasha’s eyes.

“I was hoping to see you too” she confesses. It takes you by surprise, so she grabs the scone and the book as you try to gather your thoughts.

“Emily Dickinson” she reads. “Enjoying it?”

“You can borrow it if you want. I mean, yes I enjoyed it when I read it. But I just thought, you might like a change from male authors”

“Thank you” she nods, holding it close to her. “I actually have to go…”

“Oh, right” you nod, trying not to look disappointed.

“Can I have your number?” Natasha blurts out, her cheeks turning almost as red as her hair. “To give you your book back”

You smile, handing over your phone.

“I recently changed my number and I haven’t memorized it yet. So give me yours”

“Ok” she says. As soon as the device is back in your hands, you send her a text.

“See? Now I’m sure I gave you the right number”

“Talk to you soon. Thanks for the food”

When is it appropriate to text someone without looking desperate?

Either way, you can’t hold back your excitement as you walk to your dorm, jumping on Carol’s back as she’s eating her cereal.

“Are you mad?” she says, flakes and milk flying all over the counter.

“I’m just happy!”

“Why?” she glares, hoping you’re not back to your old ways.

“I spoke to a girl. And she gave me her phone number”

“Oh, my God! Y/N!” Carol shouts, the rest of her cereal thrown away as she dances around.

“What’s all the fuss?” Val says from the shower, concerned over the noise. Carol runs to the bathroom and opens the door wide.

“Y/N met a girl”

“Way to go!” Val joins the celebration and you’re about to say thank you when you notice she’s stepping out of the shower.

“Gah, bye”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want your new girlfriend to think you’re a pervert!”

“Shut up” you say, walking to your room and flipping her off without turning back.

The rest of your evening is spent studying, but also looking at your phone waiting for anything to come through.

As you’re getting ready to sleep, there’s a text.

Nat: I’m ready to give the book back.

Y/N: It’s been… seven hours?

Nat: I’m a fast reader.

Nat: Secret spot? Saturday morning.

Y/N: I’ll be there

—

It’s the first time you’re there so early. The light filters through the leaves, birds chirping as their day begins with the rays of sunshine.

The walk to the lake is lovely, and you spot a couple of small flowers as you find your way to the place. Deciding to get one for luck, you twirl it around in your fingers.

You sit by the log, looking at the fog over the surface of the water when you hear soft footsteps approaching.

“I was afraid you’d stood me up” you joke when Natasha sits next to you.

“And stole your book?”

“The book, I could get over” you admit, giving her the flower. Natasha smiles, her fingertips caressing the petals delicately.

Your eyes are focused on the curve of her lips and those beaufitul eyes.

“Well, I’m here” she says, smiling when your eyes meet hers. “Thank you, I enjoyed reading it”

You take the book, your hands touching briefly.

“There’s a problem, though”

“What is it?” you say, worried that something’s wrong.

“I gave the book back, but I still have to thank you for that scone”

“Oh” you laugh.

“So, what is your preferred payment method? Ice cream? Coffee?”

“It’s a little early for ice cream”

“Then we’ll get it later. I know just the place”

“Yeah. I’d like that”

Though there are no classes, Natasha still has to meet with her advisor, so you chat for an hour until she has to go back to uni, agreeing to meet at your dorm in the evening.

“Is this a date?” you ask your friends on the video call as they agree on what you should wear.

“Of course it is, you silly goose!” Carol says, her face occupying half of the screen. “Wear something hot!”

“No, something comfortable. It’s an ice cream date, not a club” Val argues, trying to get a glimpse of the options.

“Something comfortable AND hot”

As they keep arguing, you opt for a pair of jeans, a white cotton t-shirt and a light jacket.

“Gotta go” you say when someone knocks. After hanging up, you are surprised to check Natasha’s ten minutes early. Plus, you don’t remember giving her your exact room number, agreeing you’d come down and meet at the lobby.

You’re about to open the door when the voice on the other side makes you stop in your tracks.

“Y/N? Please. Open up. I need you”

Wanda.

That voice, those words, the feelings you’ve been trying so hard to push away and bury come back. But instead of hurting you, they make you angry. You’re about to go out with a wonderful girl, who seems geniuenly interested in you. And here comes Wanda, trying to stain that as well.

Without thinking twice, you climb out of the window, holding on to the emergency ladder. You look down, unsure of what to do when you reach the last step.

"What are you doing?" Natasha says, rushing to stand above you.

"Parkour?" you reply weakly. "Is it too high?"

"Don't worry, I'll catch you"

Trusting her, you jump. Truth to her word, she eases the fall as you land, but you drag her along with you as you stay on the floor.

“Are you hurt? Why did you do that?”

Her hands are running over every inch of your face, going down to your shoulders and arms. The worry in her eyes only makes your heart beat faster.

“My roomate accidentally locked me inside”

You figure it's better than saying "My situationship is outside my door and I wanted to avoid her"

“You could have told me, and I would have gone and find her” Natasha insists.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Let’s get ice cream? I won’t ever do this again” you promise, holding her hand. The redhead rolls her eyes, but nods and leads you away from the building.

You make small talk, appreciating how her hand doesn’t leave yours as you get away from campus and to the walking district. You try to look discreetly behind you, hoping Wanda didn’t see you and followed you.

Natasha finds the store, opening the door for you.

“Rocky road, please” you give Natasha puppy eyes and she smiles, ordering strawberry ice cream for her.

“So, what’s your deal?” she asks as you leave the store.

“My deal? What do you mean?” you say, mouth full of ice cream. The girl wipes the corner of your mouth with her napkin.

“You mentioned parties. Are you some sort of wild girl looking for someone to charm every night?”

“Oh, yes, I’m quite the Casanova” you laugh. “No, come on. My friends are cool and we just like to have fun from time to time”

“So, not a player” she notes with a smile.

“I did get my heart broken, though”

“Fella done you wrong?”

“His girlfriend done me wrong” you correct, wishing you were talking about anything else. But truthfully, if you want things to work out, you better be honest. “She was with me, but only on her terms and as if I were a secret”

“I’m sorry, you don’t deserve that”

“I moved on. So, don’t think I’m just messing here, Nat. I really like you” you hurry to say, blushing slightly.

“I like you too” she takes your hand. “Now, let’s finish our ice cream so I can show you this awesome bookstore I found”

The next few hours are spent talking about college, some of your plans for the future and also, your friends. You smile when Natasha comments she’d love to hang out with them.

Before it gets dark, you walk back to campus. Worried that Wanda might still be at your door, you asked Darcy a while back to go check. Apparently, the coast was clear.

Natasha walks you to the door.

“I had the best time” you say, smiling. “We should do it again. Maybe go to the movies?”

“Would love to” Natasha nods, her eyes drifting to your lips. You lean forward, heart beating fast as you’re eager to feel her lips on yours.

“Are you still here? I told you to beat it!” Darcy opens the door, making you both jump back. “Oops, I thought you were someone else. Sorry, I’ll go back inside. Pretend this didn’t happen, make out”

“Darcy” you groan. Your friend doesn’t get inside, though.

“The famous Natasha. Y/N here won’t shut up about you”

“Shhh, don’t listen to her, she’s off her meds” you ask Nat, covering Darcy’s mouth and pushing her inside. As you close the door, you hold it so she can’t open it again.

Natasha laughs, her hands going to your hips and pulling you softly. You take a few steps forward, smiling as she lifts your chin, leaning to connect your lips in a slow kiss.

It’s mindblowingly good, although too short for your liking.

“So, when are we doing this again?”

“The date or the kiss?” she jokes and your hands go around her neck.

“Both”

“As soon as you’re free” she says, kissing you once more before leaving for the day.

Darcy snaps a picture the second you walk inside.

“That’s the gayest you’ve ever looked, congrats” she says, sending the picture to the group chat.

You roll your eyes, pulling out your phone and smiling.

Y/N: Best I’ve ever had

Nat: The kiss or the ice cream?

Y/N: What do you think?

Smiling at your phone, you walk to the couch where your friend is sitting.

“I’m happy that you’re happy” she says, relieved that you’re healing from everything that Wanda put you through.

“Me too” you sigh, pulling your knees against your chest. “Though I do have to ask. Did Wanda say why was she here?”

“I didn’t care enough to find out. All I did was tell her to leave you alone. And then I pretended you were inside so she wouldn’t go anywhere else looking for you”

“You’re a great friend” you nudge her with your foot and she glares.

“Ew, get that thing away from me”

“I take it back” you show her your tongue.

The next week, you text Natasha between classes, and though she’s very busy, she’s always making time to get back to you. You agree to go out on another date on Friday, but neither one can wait to see each other, so you end up at the library on a Wednesday evening, each one focused on your work.

Well, Natasha is focused on her work. You’re looking at her, because this is the first time you’ve seen her wearing glasses and it’s adorable.

“Find anything interesting?”

“Plenty” you say, not even pretending to be reading your notes.

“You’re not the only one who’s staring” Natasha’s eyebrow arches, speaking without looking up. “Brunette, green eyes, a lot of rings and eyeshadow”

“Oh”

“Is that the infamous ex?” she says and you’re scared she’ll be upset about this whole situation.

“Uhm… yeah. I’m sorry. If she’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll just leave…”

Natasha looks up at that, eyeing you up and down as you struggle to read her expression. She surprises you by pulling your chair until it bumps against hers, leaning forward and kissing you, one of her hands on your thigh and the other holding your chin, in that signature move that always makes your head spin.

“Maybe that’ll keep her away” Natasha says, smiling and bumping her nose against yours.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and expect me to focus on an essay” you say, biting your lip.

“Then let’s get something to eat. We need a break from all this studying” she proposes, picking up her things and leading you out of the library, her hand in yours.

You don’t care to look around for Wanda to check if she’s watching, because this moment with Natasha is yours. She’s holding your hand, kissing you, spending time with you whenever she can, instead of hiding you like you’re a dirty secret.

By being herself, she’s given you the one thing you always craved for. Something real.

Finally, Friday comes and you’re buzzing with excitement, getting ready to meet Natasha.

“Wanna go to a party tomorrow? You can invite your girlfriend” Val says, painting her nails while Carol throws a ball in the air.

“We haven’t had the talk about being each other girlfriends”

“What? And you call yourself a lesbian? This is the second date, you should be adopting a cat by now”

“Like you and Val with Goose?”

“Yes!”

“Well, sorry to disappoint the sapphics, I’m just trying to not scare her away. And about the party, yeah, if Natasha’s up for it, we’ll stop by”

“Alright, it’s at Stark’s”

“Oh. Maybe not, then”

Your friends share a look, and you glare as they both stay silent.

“You can’t avoid her forever” Val is the first one to speak. “She’s gonna keep looking for you, getting in the middle of what could be a good relationship just because she thinks she can”

“Yeah, next time you see her, don’t jump out the window. Open the door and tell her off” Carol agrees.

“You did what?” Val looks at you, baffled.

“It’s ok, Nat was there to catch me. Speaking of which” you hear a knock on the door, and stand up. “See ya, cat ladies”

“Hey! We only have the one”

You laugh as you open the door, but then you’re interrupted by Natasha’s lips on yours.

“Hey”

“Hello” she smiles, and then looks behind you as your friends whistle.

“Meet Val and Carol. My two former best friends” you grumble when they make kissing sounds.

“Nice to meet you” Natasha greets over your shoulder.

“Bring her home at a decent time” Carol says. “Unless you plan on having sex. In that case take her back to yours so she doesn’t wake me up”

“I hate you so much” you sigh, pulling Nat away.

“We’ll see you at the party tomorrow”

“Sorry about them” you mumble when you’re going down the stairs.

“What was that about a party?” she asks, opening the car door for you.

“Ever heard of Tony Stark? Big house, bigger ego. Loves to have parties. We don’t have to go unless you want to” you say, half expecting her to turn down the invitation.

“If you want me to go I’ll be there”

“I just want us to spend some time together, doing whatever you want” you say, blushing.

“I did promise I’d try going to a party with you, and it seems like the perfect time. Could meet the rest of your friends”

“Alright then” you nod, excited and terrified about how things could turn out if a certain someone is there.

Carol is right, though. You can’t be looking over your shoulder all the time, expecting Wanda to approach you and open those wounds.

If you have closure, in whatever way that is, she won’t have the power to hurt you anymore.

It’s hard to focus on the movie with Natasha by your side, her hand clasped in yours over your leg. At one point, you lean against her shoulder and she kisses your temple.

She’s so perfect, it makes you dizzy.

“What did you think about the movie?” she asks as you go out of the theater, her arm around your waist.

“It was good. I’m glad I understood most of it without having watched those other Alien movies”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have picked a different one” she protests, pulling you to a stop.

“I just want to be with you. Plus you looked so excited to watch it, I had a hard time saying no”

“Is that so?” she arches an eyebrow.

“Don’t use that against me, Natasha” you warn, getting ready to argue but her lips silence you, and you moan against the kiss.

It’s not nearly enough, and you need more of her, not just kissing.

“So if I ask you to go back home with me, will you still have a hard time saying no?”

“On the second date? What do you think I am, a harlot?”

“I’d count the lake as a date of it’s own. And the library too”

“So, this is like the fourth one?” you say, counting with your fingers.

“You don’t have to, I was only…”

Natasha’s words are cut off by your lips on hers, and she holds back a moan of her own when you run your tongue over her bottom lip.

“I’d very much like to go back to your place”

The drive back is silent, but not in an uncomfortable way. There’s a certain tension, and the expectation of what is about to happen makes you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest.

“This is home” Natasha says, opening the door to her apartment. Of course, as a grad student, you expected her to have her own place, but you still admire how homey it feels. There are books everywhere, which makes sense, and pictures of Natasha’s family.

“It’s lovely” you say, turning back to look at her. The tour of the place is forgotten, as you watch Natasha approach you slowly, her hands dropping to your waist.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah. A bit” you admit, because lying to Natasha has never been something you’d consider doing. “I want this to be perfect. And for you to really like it”

For me to be enough.

“It’s already perfect” she says, coming closer and kissing you slowly. Your eyes close as you enjoy the sensation of her lips against yours, hands wandering to your lower back. Without breaking the kiss, you discard your jacket and take hers off as well, and she immediately pulls you against her, your hands holding her cheeks as she deepens the kiss.

“Are we doing it standing up?” you ask when she breaks apart, breathing heavily against your neck. “Because I’ve never tried it, but I am open to experimenting”

“You could just say that we should take this to the bedroom” she laughs against your temple.

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

Still, she laughs as you pull her by the belt loop of her pants, guessing that her bedroom must be that last door to the left.

“Bingo” you smile, opening the door. There are more books scattered on the nightstand and the floor, but at least the bed is clear. “God, Nat, your reading is gonna kill me” you say as you fall to the bed and make her land on top of you.

“Sorry, I don’t have company very often”

“Are you a virgin?” you tease, knowing full well she’s dated in the past, though nothing serious.

Instead of answering, she kisses you again, her lips drifting down to your neck, and then lower to your stomach. In one swift motion, she unsclaps your bra and lifts your shirt up, her tongue swirling around a nipple. You moan, surprised at the contact, holding her head in place as she moves to the other nipple.

“Does it look like my first time?” Natasha says against your lips, her hands going down to undo the button of your jeans.

“I’m sorry, I was only joking, baby” you say, and it’s almost embarassing how desperate you sound.

“Good girl” she comments, pulling your pants down. You struggle with your underwear and Natasha’s too impatient, so she pulls it aside and starts eating you out, her tongue making circles and swirling around your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you say, biting your hand to keep you from screaming. Natasha nudges your clit with her nose as she moves to go up and down and you’re close when she stops. “Why?”

“I want to be inside you”

It’s a mystery, how your brain doesn’t stop functioning at that, but you manage to discard your shirt and start to undress Natasha, eager to feel her skin against yours. Once you’re both naked, she flips you, so you’re on top of her, straddling her lap.

“I’m debating if it would be better to have my fingers or my strap buried in your pussy” she says, and you wonder how the girl who is so well spoken can manage to be so crass.

Not that you’re complaining.

“Anything you want” you say, aware that you’re rubbing your center against her thigh.

“What’s that?”

“I… please. Just use me” you plead, desperate for some release.

Those words do it for Natasha, who takes out a strap on from her nightstand. You protest when she stands up to fasten it around her hips, feeling like you’re gonna combust if she’s not touching you.

“Shh, I’m here” she soothes you, laying on top of you and rubbing the strap against your entrance.

“Fuck me, Nat” you squeeze your legs around her, hoping she stops teasing you.

“That’s the plan, baby. Tell me if it hurts?” Natasha asks as she begins to fill you up, and you’re too far gone to give a verbal confirmation, nodding instead.

“More” you insist when she stops, searching for any sign of discomfort. Natasha thrusts forward, sinking the entire shaft and you moan, arching your back. “Harder”

Truthfully, Natasha’s never been so adventurous or forward in her sex life, but the way you’re pleading, clenching and panting underneath her, wakes something entirely new inside her. Pushing your knees against your chest, she moves in and out, reaching new spots that make you see stars.

“Yes, yes, yes” is all you manage to say, holding on to the sheets as your knuckles turn white. “Nat, I’m gonna…”

The words are stuck in your mouth as a powerful orgasm takes over, leaving you breathless. You feel Natasha slowing down her movements, and then she goes to kiss your neck, the strap still buried inside you.

“That was…” you sigh, trying to make your brain work. As your breathing steadies, your muscles relax and you let a finger run up and down Natasha’s side. “I don’t know what to say. You’re the one with the big words”

“That was fucking hot” she says, making you laugh. “And I’m not done with you”

Good thing your schedule was clear for the next day, because you weren’t getting any sleep tonight.

—

Your muscles feel sore when you wake up, stretching and turning in Natasha’s arms, watching her sleep.

Her alarm woke you up, but she’s still sound asleep.

“Nat” you say, moving her fiery hair out of her face. “Baby”

“No” she protests.

“Time to get up. You’re meeting your advisor, remember?”

Natasha curses under her breath, clearly not caring enough to wake up.

“Hey… what if I sit on your face?”

“I’m up” she says, opening her eyes and pulling you by the waist. “Come on, giddy up”

“Nuh-uh. Get dressed”

“Why would you lie about something like that?” she whines, burying her face in your neck.

“I didn’t lie, because technically, I didn’t say I’d do it right now. Get dressed, I’ll make breakfast and then we can go back to uni”

“Fine. But this discussion is not over” she kisses your cheeks, neck and then your lips, smiling as you laugh. “Morning”

“Morning, baby” you say, appreciating how beautiful she looks even with bed hair.

When she gets up, you find one of her t-shirts and go to the kitchen, looking at your options. You opt for french toast and make some coffee, because Natasha is definitely gonna need it to stay awake.

“Tastes amazing” she comments when you sit down to eat.

“Breakfast or me?” you tease and she almost chokes with her coffee. “Sorry, let’s eat”

“So, what are the plans for today?”

“Laundry, some homework. Standard stuff”

“Do you have any plans for lunch?” Natasha asks and you shake your head no. “Would you like to eat with me? After I’m done with my meeting and you finish your stuff, of course”

“Would love to” you say, smiling at how domestic and perfect it all feels.

Once you finish breakfast, you get changed and walk to Nat’s car. Parking close to your dorm, she kisses you goodbye and walks to the professor's offices.

You’re so distracted, thinking about everything that happened that you don’t notice Wanda sitting outside your dorm until you’re at the door.

“Wanda” you say, your hands in the pocket of your jeans. “Hey”

“Y/N? Did you just get here?” she says, looking around and then at the time on her phone. “You didn’t sleep here?”

“What do you want?”

“I want… to apologize”

You sigh, hoping the conversation ends soon so you don’t have to ever talk to her again.

“Anything else?”

“I thought he would change. He promised. But then it happened, again and again. And all I could think about is how you’d never do that to me”

“No, I wouldn’t. But now it’s too late. You made your choice”

“It was the wrong choice. Please, just give me another chance. I was scared before…”

“No, Wanda. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to hear it and we’re not gonna be anything at all. Natasha is… she’s amazing and I want to be with her. You had a choice to make and you went with him. And now… I have to choose the girl I’m in love with”

“Is there anything I can do or say…?”

“No. I’m sorry” you shake your head. Wanda nods, wiping away the tears. It does tug at your heart, seeing her so alone and broken. But it’s not on you to fix this.

Not anymore.

You let out a sigh when she leaves the hallway, turning in the other direction so she doesn’t see you wiping away a tear of your own.

Your eyes meet Natasha’s. She’s holding a bouquet, looking at you intensely.

“Nat. I can explain.”

The redhead drops the flowers and you’re scared she’ll walk away, but instead, she approaches you, lifting you as she kisses you. You sigh against her lips, holding on to her as if she’s the only thing in the world.

“I heard. Everything. You don’t have to explain anything” she puts you down, smiling. “I’m in love with you too”

“I don’t… know what to say” you laugh, craddling her face in your hands.

“No need to speak” she pulls you closer again, walking back until your're cornered against your door.

“I swear to God, if it’s that girl again I’m going to…” Carol opens the door without a warning, making you almost fall. “Awww, you guys! Val, come look! They’re kissing”

“With tongue?”

“I hate you so much” you complain, hiding your face in Natasha’s neck. She laughs, kissing your temple. “Now close the door so I can say goodbye to my girlfriend”

“Girlfriend? Val, they’re girlfriends!”

“Wohoo!” the girl screams from somewhere inside the apartment.

“Agh, it’s like having overbearing lesbian mothers” you slam the door shut, turning to Natasha. “I’m staying at your place tonight, or they will drive me insane with all their questions”

“Tonight, every night. Whatever you want. Just know… you’re getting very little sleep” she says with a smirk, kissing you.

“I can live with that”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n

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fandom-go-round · 1 year ago

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Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3

Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love

Astarion:

He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.

Gale:

He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.

Halsin:

Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.

Karlach:

She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.

Shadowheart:

Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.

Wyll:

You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.

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hwaflms · 10 months ago

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round & round! ★ [ l.dh ]

{💭} hyuck : i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you, but now everyone’s kissing you except me :/

[☆] pairing. haechan x reader, slight jaemin x reader ft. 00’ line, chaewon of lesserafim and sieun of stayc

[☆] genre. smut + fluff | stoner!nct, pwp bc it’s me

[☆] wc. 6.1k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), weed/marijuana use, lots of making out, slight choking, dirty talk, fingering, sexual stuff in a semi-public place, use of the word ‘slut’, very slight degradation, not very proofread, pretty tame tbh

[☆] notes. my first time writing again in like??? two years???? istg i didn’t mean to abandon this acc 😞 pls be nice i haven’t written in a while and this is not my most favourite work but i’m warming up for more stuff in da future i just wanted to post a lil self-indulgent smth abt hyuck bc bf☝️ idk how active i’ll be because of uni and other things but i missed u guys!!! any feedback is appreciated enjoy :p

even through the clouds of smoke engulfing the little living room of jeno and jaemin’s shared flat, your hooded eyes still met.

today was an important day amongst your friend group; it was chaewon’s first time smoking up with everyone. your friends weren’t really the type to pressure anyone into doing anything they weren’t sure about, but considering the astounding majority who enjoyed smoking some variation of weed, group sessions were a frequent occurrence. you either joined in or didn’t, chaewon being the latter until she decided of her own accord that she was going to try it with the people she trusted.

you sesh with jeno most often, seeing as he was the one who introduced you to weed and taught you everything you know about it. after weeks of listening to you complain about sleepless nights, jeno suggested you try smoking a joint before you go to bed, especially since it was starting to affect your attendance. (“i can’t keep attending these zoology classes without you, y/n. every time something stupid happens, i laugh and make a joke out loud because i forget you aren’t there, and now i’m pretty sure people think i’m either insane or just really fucking lonely”.)

now, smoking up has been a pretty regular occurrence, especially since jeno introduced you to a bunch of his friends and vice versa, all of you making up one big, happy group of stoners. chaewon and sieun were your friends who got along with everyone else just fine, and though they didn’t hang out with the others as much as you did, they were still welcome whenever.

presently, you are leaning back against the couch, all the way on the end, because jaemin is sprawled out alongside you, opting to rest his legs on your lap. haechan makes a joke that you don’t understand, but you laugh anyway along with everyone else, except renjun who covers up his laugh with cough.

“you can never let me have it, huh?”, hyuck scoffs, narrowing his eyes at renjun who’s mouth forms a thin line. “i know for a fact you find me funny.”

you hear that he makes a remark back at haechan but what he says doesn’t register in your head, everything sounding far away. remembering the special occasion, you turn to face chaewon and sieun, who are giggling away on the floor about something between the two of them. you don’t know what they said but you smile anyway. she clearly seemed like she was having a good trip, and so was everyone else.

swallowing nothing, you realise how dry your throat feels, and with that realisation came this undeniable desire for some form of liquid. “jen,”, you tilt your head back and call out to the boy who was already rolling another joint on the table behind you. “did you end up buying more coke?”

“check the fridge”, he mumbles without looking at you, tongue poking his cheek out of concentration as he focuses on what he was doing. with a groan, you heave jaemin’s legs off your lap, muttering a couple ‘sorry’s when he starts to complain about the change in position.

you all but float to the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and spotting the fresh cans of coke placed neatly in the overcrowded appliance. the first gulp feels like heaven against your parched throat, taking a few more while standing there.

“you gonna share or no?”, a voice startles you, turning to find haechan’s figure looming right behind you with a dopey smile on his face.

“god, we need to get you a bell or something. i never hear you coming”, you roll your eyes before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. you’re disappointed to see that there was no ice in their freezer, but you pour the drink into the glass anyway.

“why are you pouring it into a glass?”, haechan furrows his eyebrows, looking pointedly between the glass and the literal can in your hand. “now we have to wash two glasses when we could’ve just drank it from the can.”

he’s right, of course, but you’re not gonna tell him that. instead, you pretend that you were planning on adding some lemon juice to the drink because you saw it on instagram. while you figure he doesn��t believe you, he humours you anyway and tries your little concoction, which ends up being pretty damn good.

out of all of jeno’s friends, haechan definitely stood out to you. you didn’t really understand why, you were just drawn to him, even way back before you met him, when jeno used to tell you about his friends. “loud and annoying” were the words he used to describe him, but the smile that appeared on his face anyway let you know that he was someone special to jeno. this was not to say his other friends weren’t special, you got along incredibly well with all of them, meshing right in with their group.

as of right on cue, jaemin’s voice loudly sounds out from the living room, “are you guys fucking in there or what?”.

sighing, you pick up your glass and begin to walk out of the kitchen, but not before purposely knocking haechan’s shoulder when you walk past him, hearing him snort before following you out as you exit the room. perhaps if you had lingered in the kitchen for a couple seconds longer, you would’ve heard haechan muttering something along the lines of “i wish” under his breath.

“jeez, took you long enough, can i have some of that?”, renjun drawls, lifting himself off the armchair with a smile, to which you roll your eyes but pass him your glass anyway. you sit down on the floor opposite the couch and he looks as if he is about to compliment your drink-making skills before haechan cuts him off.

“dude, chaewon and sieun look like they’re about to fall asleep, let’s do something”, he half yawns out, opting to stroll over to your spot on the floor and sinking down next to you.

“not…sleepy…”, chaewon murmurs, but her voice is muffled because her cheek is pressed against sieun’s shoulder, both of them sprawled out on the floor like it was a comfortable bed.

“sure you aren’t…”, jeno chides with a smile, getting up from the table to walk over to where all of you were situated. he twirls his newly rolled joint between his fingers, finally holding it out in his palm as if it were some magical gadget, and if you were being fully honest, you were sold. “round 2? or 3, I can’t really remember…”

some words of agreement were muttered across the room, chaewon and sieun even groggily getting up from what looked like a very comfortable napping spot. another rotation began, and you made sure to blow out your smoke directly into an unsuspecting haechan’s face when it was your turn.

“let’s play a game or something”, jaemin suggests, taking a long puff and passing it to jeno who sat beside him, and soon the room was hazy once again, the smell of weed infiltrating your nostrils.

“like what?”, chaewon coughs weakly in between her hit and renjun pats her back before he hands her your coke that you hadn’t received back after you gave it to him. so long for that.

“monopoly?”, jeno offers with a shrug and haechan lets out an obnoxious snore as a reply, making you laugh but you cover it up with a cough when you meet jeno’s playfully narrowed eyes. “okay then, big guy, what’s your incredible idea?”

haechan appears to actually think about it for a moment, looking around the room for some sort of inspiration maybe, until his eyes land on you.

“okay jaemin, get that empty wine bottle from last week, we’re playing spin the bottle”, he is grinning from ear to ear, wiggling his eyebrows even though all his suggestion receives is a bunch of groans and sighs.

your eyebrows are raised however, and you try not to let your reaction show too much on your face. spin the bottle? you hadn’t played that since you were maybe fourteen, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. haechan wanted to play spin the bottle? who was he hoping to kiss? or was it just a whimsical little suggestion that was more of a joke?

it didn’t fully seem like he meant it as a joke, judging by his expression as he awaited some actual responses from the group. “what are we, fourteen?”, renjun might as well have read your mind, but he soon joins you and haechan on the floor, the others following suit. jaemin presents the empty bottle and places it in the middle of the little circle you have formed, everyone seeming slightly more keen as the joint runs out.

maybe it was the thc talking, but it didn’t really seem like a bad idea to you anymore. you were all single, attractive and close enough that it wouldn’t make things weird, and most importantly, you wouldn’t mind getting more familiar with haechan’s lips.

you shocked your own self with the sudden lewd thoughts in your head about the male sitting next to you, squirming in your position slightly. he turns his head towards you like he could hear your thoughts (“shut up, y/n, he can’t hear your thoughts…right?”) and you swear his eyes soften a bit. “are you sure you wanna play?”, he asks softly, mistaking your tenseness for discomfort, but you shake your head a little too quickly for your liking.

“no, no, let’s play, it’s not like we have anything better to do, right?”, you feign indifference and after everyone else agrees, the bottle is spun for the first time by haechan.

much to renjun’s dismay, it lands on him, and it’s almost comical the way he looks at the bottle pointing at him before slowly looking up at haechan. “renjunnie, let me kiss you”, haechan whines in a high pitched tone while drawing out the “you”, puckering his lips expectantly. the next three minutes consist of renjun listing every single person he would rather kiss than haechan, and you’d have half the mind to volunteer yourself if you weren’t clutching at your sides laughing at the whole exchange, slapping at both jeno and sieun who tried and failed to dodge your waving hands.

renjun finally relents when chaewon suggests he lets him kiss his cheek instead, but haechan is no quitter so he makes sure that he plants the loudest, most wet kiss on his face before sighing in victory when he sits back down. renjun is not the most happy with this, and he tells jaemin to take his turn instead while he rushes off to the bathroom to wash his face. hyuck looks indignant, calling out behind renjun, asking if he wants another one.

taking the turn instead of renjun, jaemin spins the bottle harshly, and it spins and spins and spins for what seemed like an eternity. your eyes are so focused on the way the bottle looks as it spins that you don’t even notice that it has stopped, until jeno nudges you with his shoulder. it’s neck is pointed directly at you, and you finally look up from your trance at jaemin, who wears an undeniable smirk on his face.

while you didn’t exactly see him that way, there was absolutely no denying that jaemin was a very attractive man, and he was no different presently, the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up as he propped himself up with his arms, looking at you expectantly.

you don’t want to look at haechan right now, because you can see out of the corner of your eye that his face is looking straight forward, not at you or jaemin, just forward. you wonder what is going through his head, but your thoughts are cut short when jaemin scoots closer to you in the circle.

“are you okay with this?”

and when you think about, you are. “yeah, i mean it’s just a game”, you reply, not wanting to ruin the fun or raise any suspicions, to which jaemin agrees and inclines his head towards you.

he kisses you, more fully than you were expecting, but you had no complaints really as you kissed him back, titling your head in the opposite direction to slip your lips over his. you wonder if your lips were as dry as they felt, and in the back of your mind it registers that your friends are watching you kiss your other friend because they hoot and giggle, but you can’t really bring yourself to care.

jaemin’s lips taste sweet and he smells sweet, his touch soft as he brings a hand up to your cheek, gently holding it while he continues kissing you. it probably wasn’t as long as it felt, but jaemin finally pulls away, the remnants of his sweet chapstick lingering on your lips. you are aware of how hot your face feels when you pull away and return to your spot, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“dude, what chapstick do you use?”, you ask after clearing your throat, and jaemin rummages in his pant pocket for a moment before whipping out a cute pink tube, holding it out in front of him. “strawberry dream, baby”, he winks, reapplying it on his lips. “never go anywhere without it.”

renjun returns after god knows how long, stating that he had to re-do his skin care routine because haechan had completely thrown off his skin’s ph balance, and is saddened to hear that he missed witnessing you and jaemin.

the game continues in a steadfast manner for the next couple of rounds thanks to haechan insisting we play one more round, though it doesn’t exactly go in the manner you were hoping for. the group is practically in tears after watching jeno and jaemin share an awkward kiss, chaewon arguing that they can’t claim “no homo” because it was the most homo thing she’d seen in a while, and that was saying a lot because she was, in fact, gay.

you have now kissed sieun, jaemin once again and an especially endearing renjun, who’s cheeks and tips of his ears are painted a bright red after you plant a full peck on his waiting lips. haechan grumbles something about renjun not having kissed anyone besides his mom to explain his reaction, but jeno is quick to cut renjun off before another argument ensues.

“i don’t know about you guys, but i think that’s enough exchanging of saliva for one day”, he all but sighs, lying down on the floor dramatically. while you do agree, you’re disheartened, because not once has the bottle landed on you when spun by haechan, or the other way around. it feels like the universe is fucking with you, because really how many times can you spin a bottle between a group of seven people and not have it land on the one person you want to kiss even once.

haechan looks like he wants to say something, but appears to decide against it in the end, stretching and standing up. it is then mutually agreed by everyone that it was time to watch a movie.

“super bad?”, jaemin proposes, and even though most people had already watched the movie, no one argues against it and jeno starts setting up the movie on their big screen tv.

settling into the couch, you glance over at haechan and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling a tad bit disappointed. this whole spin the bottle thing makes you wonder about all the other times where you could have had an opportunity to make a move on the brown-haired boy.

you’d gone on long drives together, gone partying, even drank with just each other a couple of times. the closest the two of you had ever come to crossing that line was while you where dancing at a party and his arms were looped around your waist from behind, slowly swaying to the beat. you’d danced with him tons of times before that but you recall thinking the air was a little different than normal, more heated, but you also recall mistaking renjun for your professor, so you didn’t trust yourself. the moment came and went, and neither of you ever had the balls to address it, and now it had been way too long since to bring it up.

“this seat taken?”, haechan snaps you out of your bitter thoughts, jerking his head towards the spot on the couch next to you. you clear your throat and shake your head, scooting over slightly so he could sink down next to you. “what’s up, y/n, you look a little…not present. you still high?”

it’s funny because your mind certainly wasn’t present, it was in the gutter, but you choose to blame the weed. “yeah, i’m still high”, you answered truthfully, and so was he, his red, hooded eyes a dead giveaway.

“okay, perfect, i wanted to show you this stupid tiktok i saw”, he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket and leaning closer to you to show you some video of a cat, or maybe a dog, you weren’t paying attention. he laughs at whatever the animal did, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does so, and you observe him instead of watching. when he doesn’t hear you laugh, he peeks over at you but you’re quick to turn your head back to his phone, letting out a very late giggle at the video.

if he did catch you, he doesn’t mention it, continuing to scroll and show you more videos. jeno finally gets the movie set up and turns off the lights, taking up the final seat left on the couch. the movie begins, and everyone falls into a comfortable silence bar hyuck, who makes the occasional comment that earns him a snort from you each time.

at some point during the movie, haechan stretches his arms out behind him, placing his arm on the head of the couch directly behind you. glancing at him quickly, you can’t tell whether the action was purposeful or not, because if it was, he was doing a very good job of looking nonchalant. you try your best to ignore it, but his hand is resting directly above your shoulder, inches away from touching you- but it never does.

you had never noticed what nice hands haechan had before. long and slender, nails clipped short and clean, his middle, ring and index finger adorned with various silver rings. you note that he wears three rings on his left hand, but none on his right. his right hand sits on top of one of his thighs, two of his fingers drumming against it following some rhythm going on in his head. his fingers are long, and the only thing you can think about is just how nice they would feel inside–

no, no, no, stop it, since when are you this horny?

you realise stressing out about how horny you are all of a sudden is just going to lead to a bad trip and you don’t want that, and you want to clear your head. even though you’re feeling a different kind of thirsty, you figure a distraction for a couple minutes would be helpful, so you excuse yourself to go get some water, jumping up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. unbeknownst to you, haechan’s watchful eyes follow your figure as you exit the room.

finally away and in the kitchen, you fill up a glass and lean over the sink, closing your eyes to collect yourself. you can finish the movie without driving yourself crazy over haechan, right? tonight is no different than any other hangout and you don’t want to weird haechan out with your unnecessary staring and poorly concealed thirsting. you just need to stop thinking about his stupid hands, his stupid thighs, his stupid hair and his stupid kissable lips. “kissable? lock in, y/n, lock in…”

“who are you talking to?”

you wince but don’t turn around, eyes screwed shut tightly. you’ve been gone for a couple minutes and you don’t know when he left the room, but you put down the glass and turn to face him.

“what’s got you so jumpy?”, he questions, leaning against the counter. his arms are folded and his gaze is piercing, face tilted slightly to the left as he observes you. this is the second time he’s startled you in the kitchen today and also happens to be the very reason you’ve been so jumpy.

“nothing, i just…god, you need to starting announcing your entry into a room, dude…”

he furrows his eyebrows but lets out a chuckle anyway, slowly sauntering over to where you stood. eyes never leaving yours, he now stands directly in front of you, caging you in between the sink and his body. the closer proximity and dim lighting isn’t helping your case in the slightest, feeling all hot and bothered as if there was a sudden change in temperature. “what’s happening? you’re usually never like this, we’ve smoked up together so many times. are you having a bad trip?”

you understand why he might think that, what with your jerky movements, dazed staring and just overall disconnected demeanour. while you were wound up a little tighter than usual, you weren’t having a bad trip, your mind was just very slightly preoccupied. “no, hyuck, i’m fine, i just…needed some water”, it’s a half-lie you tell, choosing to not tell him the full truth for the sake of your own pride.

“you just seem…off”, he seems to pick his words carefully, eyes roaming over the expanse of your face. “no, i just…”, you trail off to try and find the words to explain this situation away, but he’s just looking at you so intensely. it’s so silent in the room and the air feels all too still, and you swear you’re trying to speak coherently but haechan switches his weight to his other leg, wetting his lips with his tongue while he awaits an answer and you just freeze. “i…”

“‘i’ what? see? you’re doing it again”, he starts, running a hand through his hair, and the muted light that leaks in through the window illuminates only one half of his face, but you can see him so clearly that even the way his pretty eyelashes brush against his cheek when he blinks doesn’t go unnoticed by you. you’re subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. “you have this look in your eye. like you wanna…”

“…what?”

everything is still and unmoving, until your eyes zero in on haechan’s hand as he raises it, slowly bringing it to graze his fingers over your cheek. his touch leaves a burning hot trail on your skin and using his thumb, he releases your bottom lip from under your teeth, hand lingering cautiously for a fleeting moment before he drops it.

“like what, haechan?”, you repeat yourself, urging him to just say whatever it is he has to say, getting tired of this back and forth. you could sell a kidney just to see what was going on in his mind right now, because he looks torn between speaking his mind and just staying silent.

“like you want to kiss me.”

a few beats of complete and utter silence pass, not even hearing the dull sound of the television in the living room anymore over the thudding of your heart in your ears. haechan takes a small and tentative step towards your frozen figure, gripping the counter you’re using to lean against with his right hand, effectively trapping you in your place. now you really are a deer caught in headlights, because he’s spoken what you’ve been thinking about for the past couple hours into existence and he is absolutely correct.

“am i wrong, pretty?”

judging by your sharp intake of breath and open-mouthed expression, you’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. he looks as if he’s waiting for you to answer him regardless, giving you a chance to get out of this, but your voice is no longer functioning, and it takes all the strength in your body to shake your head ‘no’.

his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, tongue peeking out to lick his lips again. “i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you”, his voice is strained as he admits this, quiet and careful like he’s holding back while his eyes are trained on yours like he’s daring you to break eye contact. you don’t. “but then everyone else was kissing you but me.”

normally you would giggle at his little frown, but all you can muster up is a whisper of his name, finally breaking his all-consuming eye contact in favour of looking at his lips again. you don’t know who moves first, but the next thing you know is your lips are pressed together in a fierce kiss, your hands tangled in his soft, brown locks while he grip your waist and pull you into him.

he kisses you like a man starved and you do the same with equal fervour, not even being able to process that your little daydream is coming true. his hand comes up to caress your cheek, soon moving down your neck after stroking your face softly, using it to tilt your head for you. the position of his hand is very purposeful because his thumb presses into your throat ever so slightly, but his grip is still tight enough that you couldn’t break the kiss (not that you wanted to, anyway). the other hand snakes around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, pressing his hips into yours.

you’re positively drunk off the feeling of haechan’s lips molding over yours and you think you might just ascend when he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. body on fire, you mewl against his lips, swirling your own tongue around his while he slowly but surely bucks his hips into yours.

no wards are spoken while your hands thread through his hair, pulling on it and letting out a sound of surprise into his mouth when his hand trails down to your ass and grips it harshly. he finally releases you from the searing kiss, but he doesn’t let you catch your breath, instead spinning you around in his hold so that his front presses tightly into your back, hands slipping around your waist from behind. this feels like a déjà vu kind of moment because you are reminded of the time when you both were dancing in this exact position, except this time you were getting exactly what you wanted.

“you know how bad i wanted this?”, his voice echoes your thoughts and breaks the silence, hands running up and down your front in a teasing manner. lifting your shirt up slightly, he trails his fingers over the exposed skin of your torso and the action makes you squirm in his hold a little, and much to your surprise, he groans lewdly against your ear. “fuck, i’ve been thinking of this for so long. kissing you, having my hands all over you…”

you get the sense he’s talking more to himself than you, but you revel in it nonetheless. his hand grips your jaw and squishes your cheeks together so your lips form a pout, forcing it to the side where he plants one, two, three kisses to your puckered mouth. his other hand slips further up your shirt where he brazenly cups your boob through your bra, fondling one of them while his tongue peeks out to flick at your bottom lip.

you’re putty in his arms, all gasps and squirms and whispered ‘haechan’s. “what, baby?”, he mumbles into your cheek, the hand gripping your jaw letting go in order to slink down to your hip where it lingers for a moment. “what do you want?”

your lack of answer doesn’t bode well with him, earning you a tight squeeze to your hip as a kind of warning. “need you to touch me”, you whisper out defeatedly, and you feel haechan laugh mockingly against your face.

“yeah? need me to touch you?”, he mimics your voice while tutting, letting his hand slip further down to where you needed him the most, but not letting you have it just yet. “think you can be a good girl and keep quiet for me? we don’t need everyone outside hearing what a little slut you’re being in here.”

everyone outside. the fact that you were just a room away from all your friends who were sat watching a fun little movie together had completely slipped your mind, but if you were being honest, you couldn’t find it in you to give a shit. everything about your current disposition was so dirty. one hand under your shirt, the other about two seconds away from fingering you right in the middle of your friends’ kitchen, while said friends were sat outside, unaware of the goings-on under their own roof.

though you didn’t think actually getting caught in this position would be the most pleasant experience, the idea of it dampened your panties and caused you to whine out loud, tilting your head back against haechan’s shoulder. you receive an immediate hand clamped over your mouth in return, haechan tutting in your ear condescendingly. “looks like the little slut can’t follow a simple request.”

even though he reprimands you, his hands begin fumbling with the button of your jeans anyway, undoing it and pulling the zipper down. one hand comes up to wrap around your front and rests on your shoulder, holding you in place, and the other he sticks down your pants and cups your heat but makes no effort to move, chuckling when you try to move yourself against it. his crotch ruts against the swell of your ass and for you, any friction is better than no friction at the moment. with one hand gipping the arm around your shoulder, you slip the other behind you to palm at his hard cock over his pants, making him let out a sound of approval.

“please, hyuck”, you shake your face free of his hand and turn to look him in the eye, and he grips your throat and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

he seems to accept your plea, finally moving his hand against you and you breathe a sigh of relief, lost in the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit over your wet underwear. he’s quick to slip his hand inside your panties, cold fingers pressed directly on to your bare pussy, spreading your wetness all over you. when he ultimately slips a finger into your tight, waiting core, you moan but it’s cut short when he slaps his hand over your mouth again. “keep. quiet.”

if someone were to walk in, the two of you would be a sight to see. you writhing in his tight hold while his hand is stuffed in your pants, two fingers pistoning in and out of you at a fast pace as his forehead is pressed against the side of your face, releasing short breaths. you look positively fucked out, and you’re both in a state of complete bliss as you grind against each other in a timely rhythm.

“my pretty girl. if i had known you wanted this too, i would’ve just grabbed you and kissed you like i wanted, in front of everyone.”

his voice is honey-like and sultry, and his fingers are nothing short of heavenly. they pump in and out of you, and he still manages to use his thumb to toy with your clit in this position, leaving you breathless and on the edge. “can’t believe jaemin and renjun got to kiss you before me.”

you’re so wet that your cunt makes downright sinful noises as he fingers you and you’re hoping that it isn’t really as loud as it seems. “you’re so wet, angel. so this is what had you all jumpy today”, he laughs like he’s stating the obvious, and you’d have half the mind to feel shy if his ministrations didn’t feel so fucking good right now.

you’re aware that you’re close and so is he because you’re clenching around his fingers, so he quickens his pace both inside you and against your clit. “you gonna cum for me, baby? right here, in the middle of kitchen, while everyone’s outside?”, he purrs against your face and you grip the part of his arm that isn’t shoved in your pants, digging your nails into his skin in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. his words make you feel dirty in the best way, not even knowing you could feel this turned on.

he peppers kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking here and there, and through the pale moonlight bleeding into the room from the window, the red blemishes that begin to bloom on your skin are visible to hyuck, and he seems pleased with his artwork. “that’s it, sweetheart, let go for me.”

your moans are muffled against his palm when you finally come, the orgasm ripping through you so strongly that you go limp in his hands, legs almost buckling at the sensation. with the added boost of the weed you smoked earlier, your orgasm is immense, feeling it pulse through your body until it’s too much, whining and wriggling in haechan’s firm hold. he holds you still and helps you ride out your high, whispering utterances of “that’s right, baby” and “my good girl” into your ear while you throw your head back and try to regulate your breathing.

in a moment, his hand slips out of your pants, turning you back around so you’re now facing him, grinning down at you from ear to ear as if you both hadn’t just defiled jaemin and jeno’s kitchen. “you feeling okay?”, he mumbles, tucking your hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t soaked, pressing a number of kisses all over your face as you nod and giggled, trying to evade his attack. he lets you go just to wash his hands, and it’s when he dries his wet hands on the material of his pants that you notice his raging boner, immediately feeling bad.

“wait hyuck, let me–“

as if he’s reading your mind once again, he shakes his head and takes both of your hands into his, wrapping them around his own waist while pulling you into him. “we can save that for another time, pretty”, he insists, his expression turning shy when he realises the implications behind his words. “that is, i-if you want another time, of course–“

it’s your turn to cut him off this time, but you do so by leaning up and connecting your lips again, bring a hand up to stroke his cheek. “of course i want another time, hyuck. i want this. i want you.”

your assurances do good to bring a smile to his pretty face, taking ahold of the hand on his cheek and pressing his lips to your skin gently, lovingly. “so, so, perfect.”

taking note of the prolonged amount of time the two of you had been gone, you skulk back into the living, but this time, hand in hand.

the scene you’re greeted with is a surprising one, because you find every single one of your friends to be sound asleep, much to your amusement and hyuck’s dismay. “so you’re telling me i could’ve been hearing you moan the whole time and none of these idiots would have even known?”, he is appalled, a hand coming up to rub at his face out of frustration. “i did all that for nothing?”

“i wouldn’t say for nothing”, you reveal, biting your lip and smiling up at the boy shyly. “i might have woken them up.”

“oh yeah, well now you’re going to”, and with that, he’s dragging you back to the kitchen while you giggle, nearly tripping over your own feet before he all but scoops you up in his arms, muttering to himself about having left something in the kitchen that needed urgent fetching.

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 months ago

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Sunshine [13] - Clouds

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Helping out an ex comes with questions.

Word Count: 3283

CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

You’d had your fair share of toxic breakups but this break up with Logan?

This one took the cake.

Thankfully, you had been pretty good at hiding it whenever Theo was near and now nearing the third month of your break up, you were getting better at distracting yourself. So when Nik and Jamie invited you and Theo and Julie to breakfast on Saturday morning, you decided to go and have some fun with them. Theo was holding Nik and Jamie’s cat in his lap, petting him with one hand while he waved his fork around with the other, chattering away.

“And then I gave the wrong answer but then I changed it when I remembered what it said on my book because I had read it the night before, and Professor X said I was one of his best students ever!”

“Well this Professor X sounds right,” Jamie said with a smile. “You’re the smartest kid I’ve ever met.”

Theo gave him a huge smile. “Am I?”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely yes,” Nik added and Julie pinched Theo’s cheek gently.

“And the cutest too.”

“Thank you!” Theo chirped and brushed his fingers through the cat’s fur. “Um- did my mom tell you I have a cat too now?”

“She mentioned it,” Nik said. “Sir…”

“Sir Bartholomeow!” Theo said. “I think he’d get along well with Purrlock. Right Purrlock?”

The cat just blinked at Theo.

“So um—the other day, he wanted to play catch with me I think, so he ran away and I was running after him, and I almost crashed into Laura –she’s a new student, Mr. Logan’s daughter, and then…”

You couldn’t even pay attention to the rest of the sentence as your head snapped up and you blinked a couple of times dumbly. Every adult around the table seemed to be at a loss for words; Nik’s eyes widened, Jamie frowned and Julie’s jaw dropped while you tried to pull yourself together and snap out of the shock.

“And then I found him by the lake, and I think he was trying to make friends with the fish but I’m not—”

“Sorry—” you cleared your throat. “Bean, what was that?”

“Sir Bartholomeow was trying to make friends with the fish,” Theo repeated, taking a piece of pancake into his mouth and you sat up straighter, your heartbeat getting faster.

“No, about the uh…the new student?”

“Oh yes,” Theo said. “Laura. She’s a bit weird. She likes to glare at people and she never talks.”

“Did you say she’s Logan’s daughter?”

Theo nodded his head, chewing on his bite, completely oblivious to everyone’s reaction. Jamie mouthed ‘what the fuck’ before Nik elbowed him and you shook your head.

“Did she…did he—um, how do you know she’s his daughter?”

“Oh everyone in the school knows,” Theo said as Purrlock jumped from his lap, and Theo turned to you, pleading with his eyes.

“Go ahead,” you said and he grinned, then ran after him out of the kitchen. You let out a breath, turning to Julie.

“What the fuck?”

“How did we not know about this?” Julie whispered while Nik rapped his knuckles on the table.

“He never told you?”

“No!” you said. “No I think I would’ve remembered!”

“This just proves he was a bad idea all along,” Jamie stated and you raised your brows.

“Me judging someone for being a single parent would be a bit hypocritical, Jamie.”

“I’m not talking about being a single parent, obviously!” Jamie said, offended. “I’m talking about how he didn’t tell you anything about his daughter. Sounds like too big of a detail to keep hidden.”

You groaned, burying your face into your hands.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered before lowering your hands. “He never once mentioned that.”

“Are we sure he and the mother are separated?”

Your head shot up. “What?”

“I’m just saying—”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “No. Logan can be an asshole but he’s not that big of an asshole.”

“You said it yourself, he’s fucking with your head.”

“I said he fucked with my head,” you corrected him, your heart skipping a beat. “Which won’t happen again. I don’t even talk to him anymore, and I’ve been hanging out with Hayes remember?”

Nik looked over his shoulder.

“Theo?” he called out. “Sweetheart can you come here for a sec?”

The rushed footsteps reached your ears before Theo appeared at the door.

“Yes?” he said, making his way to you and you smiled, reaching out to fix his glasses.

“Do you know anything about Laura’s mom?” Nik asked and Theo hummed, climbing to your lap.

“She doesn’t have a mom.”

You looked down at him, softly stroking his hair. “Everyone has a mom, Bean.”

“Not Laura. Ralph says she was made in a lab.”

You exchanged glances with Jamie.

“A lab?” Jamie asked. “How’s that buddy?”

“I don’t know,” Theo said, reaching out to pop a piece of pancake in his mouth. “Maybe that’s why she doesn’t talk. I wouldn’t want to talk to people either if I didn’t have a mom.”

You pressed a kiss on top of his head, hugging him tight.

“Can I go play with Purrlock?” he asked, looking up at you and you smiled at him.

“Sure,” you said. “Go ahead and play with Purrlock.”

You and Logan had managed to stay out of each other’s way since that moment in his room. He had tried to call you a couple of times but you never answered, and you had made sure not to leave the car whenever you dropped Theo off.

Logan had dumped you, so you weren’t going to let him play with your emotions just because he was jealous you were moving on with Hayes.

Which you weren’t even sure what you were doing with Hayes counted as moving on, considering you two still weren’t dating.

Theo had asked you if he could take Cheeto and Popcorn to school for the week and you had agreed after changing their tank so one with a lid on. You figured if he wanted to introduce them to Sir Bartholomeow it was better to play it safe so you had given him strict instructions never to keep the lid off whenever his cat was near.

“Do you need help, Bean?” you asked as you stepped out of the car and helped him shoulder his backpack.

“No thank you,” he said and gasped as the cat jumped into his arms. “Hi Sir Bartholomeow! Did you miss me on the weekend?”

“Hi Sir Bart,” you said with a smile and scratched at his head. “You have all your books, your phone, and the cupcakes?”

“Yeah,” he said and stole a look at the yard, then turned to blink up at you. “Mommy?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“That’s her,” he whispered. “That’s Laura.”

You looked over your shoulder to see the little girl sitting by herself in the bench, dangling her feet back and forth as she listened to music on her headphones. Now that you knew she was Logan’s daughter you could see the resemblance but you had a feeling that you would’ve been able to tell anyway seeing the way she glared at people whenever she raised her head to look at them. A small smile pulled at your lips before you tilted your head.

“Why is she alone?”

“Hm?”

“Why is she sitting alone?”

“Well, she doesn’t speak to anyone, mommy,” Theo said as if the answer was obvious. “So no one speaks to her.”

You could feel your chest getting heavy. “She has no friends?”

“No,” Theo said and you pursed your lips, then crouched down to fix his glasses.

“Then you’ll make friends with her, Bean.”

Theo pulled his brows together in confusion. “Me?”

“Mm hm.”

“But mommy, she doesn’t speak to anybody,” he whispered and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Well, then it’ll be a fun friendship. You love talking and she sounds like a good listener.”

“But why doesn’t she talk to anyone?”

“That’s for her to know,” you said. “But remember what I always say. When we have something good, it’s our responsibility to share it and use it to help people.”

He nodded, deep in thought.

“And you have a lot of friends here.”

“I do!”

“So you can help Laura have friends as well,” you told him. “Things would be a bit boring here without your friends, right?”

He nodded again fervently.

“Maybe she likes animals too,” he said, stealing a look at her. “Everyone likes animals and I can introduce her to Sir Bartholomeow and Cheeto and Popcorn. She can come with us to the lake maybe.”

“Sounds like a fun idea,” you said with a smile. “See Bean? You’re incredibly good at this already.”

He gave you a proud smile and hugged you with one arm while holding Sir Bartholomeow with the other. You pressed a kiss on the top of his head, then reached out for the small fish tank on the backseat to get it.

“Are you sure you can carry it?”

“Yes, I’m super strong,” Theo said, making you let out a laugh and you gave the fishtank to him. Once you were sure it wouldn’t fall, you repressed a smile at the happy expression on his face; a cat under one arm and the fishtank under the other.

“Have a nice week!”

“You too mommy!” he said and made his way to Laura. Laura seemed surprised when she saw him stop in front of her and pulled her headphones out of her ears to frown at him slightly, but that did nothing to discourage Theo.

“Hi!” he said, his cheerful voice making you smile. “I’m Theo, and this is Sir Bartholomeow and these are Cheeto and Popcorn. Do you want to be friends?”

Laura blinked a couple of times, then nodded slowly.

“Yay!” Theo said. “I can tell you all about them but um—I need to put Cheeto and Popcorn in my room so that they can officially meet Sir Bartholomeow. We can walk there together if you want and then I can introduce you to Ralph and Timmy and Lucas and everyone else.”

Laura looked around as if she wanted to see whether this was a joke or a threat and her eyes fell on you. You gave her a warm smile and she only stared at you before turning to Theo, then pushed herself off the bench without a word and followed Theo into the mansion while he happily chattered away. You heaved a sigh and watched them until they disappeared into the building, then smiled to yourself and got in the car to drive off.

“There you go!” you told the customers with a bright smile as you placed the plate on the table. “Bacon and eggs for you, and pancakes for you. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No thank you,”

“Of course,” you said and went back behind the counter to repress a yawn. Stacey gave you a sympathetic look.

“Long night?”

“You could say that,” you muttered. “I’m so ready to go home and sleep for like ten hours or something.”

“I’d love to do that but I promised my friends we’d go out tonight,” she said. “And you’re invited as usual?”

“I’m not in much of a party mood,” you said apologetically. “Thanks though.”

“You sure? Paul and his friends are coming too.”

You raised your brows. “Is that right?”

“Don’t do that voice,” she said, pointing at you with a pen and you stole a look at the kitchen window, then turned to him.

“I’m not saying anything,” you said. “Other than that you have been hanging out with him more than usual lately.”

“That counts as saying something,” she told you, making you let out a laugh but your laughter died in your throat when you heard the front door open and turned your head to see Logan. Despite your better judgment, you could feel your heart beating faster but you frowned at yourself and pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him.

“The kitchen is closed,” you heard Stacey say as Logan gave you a curt smile and you repressed a laugh, then shook your head.

“Thanks Stace,” you told her and she shrugged her shoulders, then walked to take another customer’s order. You clicked your tongue at Logan, tilting your head.

“Why are you here?”

“I uh…” Logan swallowed thickly. “You haven’t been answering my calls—”

“Wonder why, you genius.”

“And I wanted to thank you.”

That made your frown deeper and Logan cleared his throat.

“Theo said you told him to make friends with Laura.”

A look of realization dawned on your face and you ran a hand over your eyes.

“I didn’t do that for you.”

“No I know,” Logan said quickly. “I know. I got the message after what happened the other day, before the mission.”

“That was you being toxic as fuck, and trust me when I say that it will never happen again buddy,” you told him sternly, looking him dead in the eye and he paused for a moment before he nodded his head.

“Got it.”

“Good.”

“Thank you anyway,” he said. “I know you didn’t do it for me but I really appreciate it, for Laura.”

“It sure was a choice to keep her existence a secret but—” you started and Logan shook his head.

“I didn’t keep it a secret,” he said. “I didn’t know she existed until that mission.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Come again?”

“She apparently was created as a part of this…project,” he said. “They were creating mutant soldiers and they had my DNA. I don’t know her mother, neither does she. She was raised in the lab by the nurses, according to her file.”

You covered your mouth, letting out a breath. “What the fuck?”

Logan let out a dry laugh. “My reaction exactly.”

You could feel your stomach doing an unhappy flip.

“Is she okay now?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Logan said. “Actually your guess would probably be better than mine.”

You bit inside your cheek and looked over your shoulder.

“The kitchen isn’t actually closed,” you told him. “Do you want anything?”

Logan hesitated for a moment. “A coffee would be nice if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing,” you said and grabbed a cup, then filled it with coffee and put it in front of him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” you said. “So what…like, she’s a mutant too?”

“She seems to have all my abilities,” Logan said. “So that part of the project worked I guess. But they didn’t really let her out of the lab so she barely knows anything about the outside world.”

You let out a breath and Logan drummed his fingertips on the table.

“That’s why I wanted to say thank you,” he said. “I really appreciate what you told Theo. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No—of course,” you said. “I mean, whatever happened between you and me has nothing to do with her. Every kid deserves to be happy and have friends and…you know, be a kid.”

“I’m not sure if that’s in the cards for her anymore,” he said. “They raised her to be a weapon.”

“Well buckle up buddy, it’s your responsibility to change that now.”

Logan paused for a moment, then cleared his throat.

“Listen, you obviously don’t owe me anything,” he said. “But uh—do you have any tips?”

“For raising a kid?” you asked and he nodded fervently.

“I mean you’re the best parent I’ve seen, and Theo is the happiest kid I’ve ever met,” he said. “But I have zero idea what I’m doing so…”

You gawked at him before a laugh escaped from your lips.

“Well, this is weirdly validating,” you said. “I’ve been telling myself the same thing since I was eighteen and they put Theo in my arms. Interesting to see how you’re never really ready for that, even at 200 years old.”

Logan let out a small laugh.

“Nah, trust me,” he said. “Theo loves you, and you’re doing everything right. Laura hates me.”

“I don’t think that’s true—”

“Oh it is true, she stabbed me multiple times.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “You have healing abilities, you’ll be fine. I’m still not sure my eardrums will ever go back to what they used to be because Theo used to cry like a goddamn banshee for hours so like, who’s the real victim here?”

That irresistible smile curled his lips, making your chest feel all warm.

“I think the first rule of parenthood is the crippling self-doubt,” you told him. “You’ll catch up, no worries.”

“To repeat, it’s not self-doubt if she hates me."

You pulled your brows together.

“Logan,” you said. “Why do I have a feeling that you want Laura to act like Theo?”

“I mean it wouldn’t hurt—”

“I’ve had years to build that with Theo,” you said. “It doesn’t automatically happen the moment someone says you’re a parent. You need to put in the work for that.”

From the look on his face, you could tell that he hadn’t thought about that before.

“I don’t think…” he trailed off, making you frown. “I don’t think I’m the right person for this. To be a father.”

“It’s terrifying, I get it but you’re pretty good with kids actually,” you told him. “You’re very good with Theo.”

“It’s different with Theo.”

“How’s that?”

“Theo is a part of you,” Logan muttered. “Laura is a part of me.”

You pulled back slightly, your heart clenching in your chest.

Oh.

Of course. That made sense now.

“Your self-hatred can’t run that deep,” you told him, your throat burning. “Laura being your daughter doesn’t automatically mean she’s doomed, Logan. Despite what you might think—”

“It dooms her to be a weapon,” he rasped out, the unsaid like me hanging in the air and you shook your head fervently.

“Anyone can be a weapon if you let them,” you insisted. “You don’t want Laura to be a weapon? Don’t raise her to be one.”

He held your gaze in his and opened his mouth to say something but before he could, Stacey cleared her throat loudly, making your head snap up and you saw Hayes walking into the diner. You blinked a couple of times, desperate to appear normal and pulled back a little to smile at him.

“Hey!”

“Hi,” he said, smiling back at you as he took the seat beside Logan’s. “Sorry I dropped by unannounced, I had a small break so I figured…”

From how Logan’s body went rigid, you knew he recognized Hayes’ scent because it was on you that one time. You stole a look at him and his jaw clenched but then he forced a curt smile at you.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he said, putting some cash on the counter before he stood up and you bit inside your cheek, clearing your throat.

“Sure. See you around.”

He held your gaze in his, then nodded and walked to the door while Hayes looked over his shoulder.

“Who was that?”

You paused only for a moment.

“Theo’s teacher,” you said, painfully aware that he could hear you and that made Logan stop by the door for a second before he walked out of the diner. You tried to ignore the pang in your chest and turned to Hayes, willing a smile on your face.

“I’m glad you dropped by, unannounced or not,” you told him. “So what’s up?”

14 - Shelter

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan wolverine #logan x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan x you #james logan howlett #logan xmen #wolverine logan

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wttcsms · 1 year ago

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i wanna brag about it (i wanna tie the knot) ; choso.

pairing choso x f!reader word count 2.6k synopsis overworked, stressed, and in need of relief, choso comes home to the sight of you looking all pretty and sweet. it's been a long time coming, and tonight is the night where choso finally gives in to his deepest desire: fucking a baby into you. content contains babysitter!au (babysitter!reader), ceo!choso, half-brothers!choso & yuuji, toddler!yuuji, implied age gap, breeding kink, obsessive + possessive!choso, housewife kink, misogynistic ideals, wet n messy, size kink, belly bulge, bro is literally so in love with you and dreams abt starting a family with you

Choso could use a drink right about now.

He’s rummaging through his fridge, more than happy to grab one of the many bottles in the back (he doesn’t want Yuuji accidentally grabbing one by accident — not that it would happen, thanks to your supervision), but he startles away from the fridge when a voice fills the silence of the kitchen.

“Late night?” You tease, giving him that sweet smile of yours that has the stresses from today lifting from his body, easing the weight on his otherwise tense shoulders.

Fuck.

Proof that today was a major shitshow is evident in the fact that Choso has forgotten all about you. Staring at your body clad in nothing more than one of those skimpy cropped-cami-and-boyshorts matching sets you always favor, he finds it hard to believe that he could ever forget about you. The refrigerator light bathes you, envelopes you, casts a warm glow on your soft skin and makes it look like you’re an angel radiating some bright aura. A subtle glance at your entire body allows him a glimpse of two, tiny peaks poking through the thin material of your top. You like keeping the house cold. He swallows hard, finding the willpower to focus on your face.

Not like staring at your face is enough to stop his cock from twitching in his work trousers. In fact, he probably gets even harder looking at you, especially when he can tell you’ve probably just finished your very sacred and meticulous nighttime skincare routine, your face glowing. Seeing you all clean and fresh, savoring the domesticity of you washing your face in the same bathroom he brushes his teeth in, salivating over the way you look standing in his kitchen (it could be yours, too, if you would let him give you everything he wants to) wearing nothing but your pajamas — it all makes his hindbrain want to take over. He’s spent the last fourteen hours stuffed in a boardroom or his office, and your simple existence is enough to soothe his soul and send him spiraling, all at the same time.

Choso could really, really use a drink right about now.

“Sorry, I meant to call to tell you—”

“Don’t worry about it.” You smile at him goodnaturedly, like you’re not still in college with much better things to do on a Friday night than wait for him to come home.

He should be thankful that you’re so sweet to him, but just the idea that you did have plans tonight makes a hot coil of jealousy tighten in his stomach.

Choso knows that he shouldn’t be feeling this way; he shouldn’t even notice you as much as he does. It starts out with the little things, first, like making sure his assistant gets your favorite snacks restocked during his usual weekly grocery delivery. He asks you about your schoolwork, and then finds himself filing away people he knows in your major’s industry. It’s good to have connections, he tells you, giving you the number to a good business acquaintance of his who’s looking for an intern in the near future. And of course, he’s hyper aware of the fact that you are a very beautiful girl. Unfairly so, with the curve of your lips and the slope of your nose; every time he sees you, he plays a game with himself. Tries to notice something new about you, a beauty mark, a new haircut. If he had the time, he’d probably try to get an exact count of your eyelashes.

And now, he’s noticing too much of you. The way the fabric of your tiny matching set seems to accentuate every aspect of your body. How he can smell the sweet scent of your body wash and lotion. The way you’re staring at him, so innocently, completely unaware of the lewd thoughts that run rampant in his mind every time you have him cornered like this.

Some nights, it’s almost too much to bear.

It’s been a tough day, though. Week. Month. Endless meetings, negotiations that never result in any firm solutions, just more addendums to contracts. He hasn’t seen much of anything besides his office and the boardroom; what’s the point of having an office with a skyline view if he’s too busy staring at spreadsheets and emails to even enjoy it?

Tonight, Choso realizes, is the night where he snaps.

He says your name in such a low register, you almost don’t pick up on it. You’re in the middle of telling him a cute story about what Yuuji did during recess with his pre-k class, but you pause.

Maybe it’s all in your head, but it feels like something in the air has shifted. The way your tummy’s butterflies seem to be in overdrive is only proof of this.

You’re used to the perpetual tension between you and Choso. Filthy rich, successful, always in a nice, tailored suit — looking purely on the outside, who wouldn’t want to get fucked by him? The more time you spend with him, the more time you fill the role of mother over just babysitter for little Yuuji, which gives way to deeper observation of Choso. He works incredibly long hours, but still has time to stay updated on all of Yuuji’s comings and goings, accomplishments and awards. He doesn’t have to; it’s not like he’s obligated. After all, Yuuji is his half-brother, a byproduct of his father’s mistress. He didn’t have to take him in, love him with his entire being, but he does, and this makes you fall for him only more.

Then, there’s the fact of how he makes you feel. Every time his hands will brush gently against yours, innocently and so quickly, you swear you’re being electrified. The way he says your name, the way he tells you anything, in that low voice of his is enough to get you squeezing your thighs together. But most of all, it’s the way he looks at you. At first, you thought it was because of your crush, but the longer you work for him, the more you realize that Choso will occasionally stare at you when he thinks you won’t notice.

But how could you not? How could you not detect the feel of his dark eyes scanning your figure, taking in your features? How could you not detect the way his eyes will darken over in lust when he watches you lick sweet cream off your fingers from an explosive can of whipped cream? How could you not catch the barest trace of a smile as he watches you interact with Yuuji at a park, willing to get your hands dirty to appease the toddler while Choso watches over the two of you from his seat on the bench?

How could you not fall deeper and deeper into his spell when the threads of lust continue to spool, tightening over your body, practically choking you with desire.

You don’t even realize how big Choso is until he’s standing so close to you, towering over you. So much bigger than you to the point where if you look straight ahead, all you can see is the rise and fall of his chest through his white button down (the one you ironed for him this morning).

His hands curl into fists, like he’s restraining himself. “Tell me now,” he breathes out, words coming out tight, like speaking to you civilly is proving to be a strenuous task for him. “Tell me that I shouldn’t fuck you tonight. That I can’t.”

Is he joking, or are you dreaming? You’re hyper aware of your breathing now, of the way you reflexively lick your lips, of the way your nipples are pressed taut against the thin, cotton fabric of your cami. You’re also way too aware of him, with the lustful expression in his eyes that give way to something more, as if this request of his means something more. Most men his age and in his powerful position have a wife or a girlfriend by now. As long as you’ve known him, Choso hasn’t been with anybody.

The stress, the agitation, that annoying, persistent feeling of constantly being pent up — all of it has been building up inside of him. Whoever is going to be on the receiving end of it will be lucky if they’re able to walk the morning after.

“But you can.” You say softly, almost scared that this is some elaborate trick, a means to see if his brother’s babysitter is to be trusted. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

There’s something animalistic in the way he takes you. When he kisses you, it’s hungry. Open-mouthed. Sloppy. It would be invasive if you weren’t so eager to let him, to allow his tongue to hit the roof of your mouth, to swap saliva in the messiest manner possible.

But there’s something gentle there, too. The way his hands cup your face, or travel to rest on your waist. He’s sweet, taking his time to help you slip out of your pajamas, and sweeter still — he lets out an appreciative hum as he takes in the sight of you bare, naked in the kitchen. Fuck a drink, Choso thinks as he takes in your nude body. You’re the only stress relief he needs.

He whispers the nastiest things to you as he gets you to sit on the kitchen island. He asks you to please spread your legs so he can see that pretty pussy of yours, and when you comply, he takes in a sharp breath before running a single, cold finger against your wet folds. He makes a crude, appreciative comment, asking you are you really this wet, baby? All of this because of me? For me?

You can’t answer him, of course. Talking is hard when he’s using two fingers to fuck you open, get you ready to take his cock. He’s knuckles deep, and when he curls his fingers right there, the only thing you’re capable of saying is a squeal of his name. Your juices are pooling into a puddle on the counter, the same counter where you served him breakfast so many hours ago.

He loves watching you. Choso could watch you every second for the rest of his life and still never get his fill of you. He only catches you during particularly chaste moments, moments where you’re humming in the kitchen or playing with Yuuji. He loves those scenes; it feeds the archaic, masculine ego inside of him that tells him he needs to make life easier for you. That you shouldn’t have to worry about school or work, about money or other frivolous things he has an abundance of. He wants to take care of you.

Seeing the way you lose control of yourself from the work of his own hand has him getting unbearably hard in his work slacks. He loves watching you, and he knows he’s going to love watching you get all depraved and drunk on his cock.

When Choso first tries to ease just the tip in, you have to curl your fingers over the edge of the counter, trying to steel yourself. With how wet and willing you are, it should be an easy enough task, but it’s made difficult by the fact that he’s just too thick.

Tip red and angry, leaking with pre, wide — just the sight of Choso’s cock is enough to get you even wetter, more pliant for him, but even the first stretch still has you hissing.

“S’okay, baby.” He groans, one hand on your waist, trying to steady you, keep you still so he can keep on pushing himself deeper. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You certainly don’t feel like you’re doing much of anything. It’s hard, when you can’t stop your walls from clamping down on his cock, making it harder for him to move or even think. When he fully enters you, your mind is already too dizzy with pleasure to think straight. You think he says something, but you’re not sure what, and you try to focus on his words, you really do, but then he starts thrusting, and you think it’s powerful enough to tilt the axis of the earth.

Oh, so this is what sex is supposed to feel like. He redefines everything you thought you knew about it. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, the way the slickness and heat of your pussy seems to keep motivating him to go harder, the way if you look down, you can spot a tiny bulge every time he hits as deep as he can go — all of this combined marks the height of pleasure for you.

“You’re so perfect.” He grunts out, relishing in the way you tighten up at his words. Your eyes are a bit glazed, almost like you’re struggling to focus on what’s in front of you. He doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, there’s pride settling inside his gut as he realizes that he’s the one fucking all the sense out of you. “Let’s do this every night, baby. Do you like the sound of that? Of being my stress relief?”

He knows that you’re too far gone, too deep in the haze of pleasure, to process his words, to answer him.

“I wanna fuck you forever, baby. Make you my pretty, little wife and have you waitin’ at home for me. How does that sound?”

He assumes when your pussy tightens up that that’s a yes.

His hand finds your own, and he interlinks your fingers together. He might be fucking you all messy on the kitchen counter, but he still holds an overwhelming amount of affection for you. Of course he would want to hold your hand.

He traces your ring finger, feels the familiar sensation of his release building up. So close, he thinks to himself. He’s so close to getting everything he wants.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum right. In. Your. Fucking. Pussy.” Each word is emphasized with a particularly hard thrust, and this — him saying that — is what your sex-addled mind registers. You’re vaguely aware that this could be a bad idea, but you’re too addicted to chasing after your high that you don’t put a stop to it. “Gonna give you a baby.”

“Please.” You moan out, the word coming out ragged and strained. Speaking is difficult, so so difficult. He’s happy to hear your beautiful voice, nonetheless.

“Atta girl. I knew you would understand.”

As if confirming to him that the two of you are meant to be, you both cum at the same time. You feel weightless and drowsy, too out of it to even process how sloppy and wet the mess in between your legs is right now. If Choso pulls out, his cum and your juices would make the counter even more slippery.

But Choso doesn’t pull out. His cock stays nestled in your wet heat, and he admires your fucked out form. You look a bit different from the fresh and clean girl who greeted him when he came home, but that’s okay. He loves you for you, every iteration you have to offer. He’ll carry you to the bedroom, where he can fuck you nicely, sweetly. Maybe he’ll try his hardest to not go too hard when he has you in a mating press. And after getting his fill of you, after the stresses of work disappear from his mind completely, then he’ll take you to the bathroom and get you all nice and clean.

He’ll even be a gentleman, showcase what a great husband he’ll be, by letting you sleep in while he cooks the family breakfast.

#choso x reader #choso x you #jjk x reader #one shot #drabble #smut #jjk smut #choso smut #choso kamo x reader #jjk fanfiction

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no-144444 · 3 months ago

Text

the grid: late for a date!

Day 29 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Daniel Riccardo, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen

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Oscar Piastri: miscommunication

So, it wasn’t a date. As much as you thought it was, Lando showed up. That wasn’t uncommon for your ‘dates’ to turn into ‘Oscar and Lando time’, but it still pissed you off. You just wanted one night with your boyfriend. Not Lando’s.

You huffed as you sat down at your vanity, carefully cleaning off your face with a wipe.

“You’re annoyed,” Oscar stated, leaning against the door and watching you.

“I’m not,” you sighed, truthfully just wanting to be left alone.

“You clearly are,” he said matter-of-factly. “Talk to me.”

“I thought it was a date,” you explained sheepishly. “I was a little disappointed when Lando showed up. I thought it was just us two, y’know, since we haven’t gone out ‘just us’ in months.”

He sighed and looked down. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Osc, it's fine. I’m just much annoyed with myself that I didn’t properly read the text-”

“But we should go out, just the two of us. You’re right,” he realised how little he takes you out. “Why don’t you talk to me about this?”

“You have a lot going on,” you shrugged. “I’m not going to add to it by being a bitch about shit like this.”

“You’re never a bitch,” his heart ached a little, how could you ever think that he’d ever be annoyed by you? He wrapped his arms around you , pressing soft kisses to your neck and whispering apologies. “I love you so much, I want to be with you as much as possible. Lando was just lonely and called me, so I said yes. I’ll say no in future, yeah?”

You nodded, feeling a lot more loved than before.

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Lando norris: he forgot.

It had been weeks in the planning, you both were ecstatic to get to enjoy your favourite restaurant in Brazil. You sat there for 2 hours. In the end you ordered stuff to take out and left a hefty tip for the inconvenience of your boyfriend. You texted and called him at least 20 times. No fucking answer.

When you got back to the hotel, he wasn’t there either and you started getting worried. Could he be hurt? Surely he wouldn’t forget the important date, he remembered about it last week.

You called Oscar, scared that Lando was lying in a ditch somewhere or something.

“Hey Y/n,” his voice came from the other side of the phone. Distantly you could hear the sound of house music playing loudly.

“Is Lando with you?” You asked.

“Well, he was a while ago, but now he’s going back to the hotel,” he explained. “Why?”

“Just wanted to check on you guys,” you sighed, unable to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “You all good?”

“Yeah, I’m with Alex and Zhou, we’re just outside the club now, we’re safe, promise,” he smiled into the phone.

“Alright, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Be careful,” you reminded him.

“We will,” he nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

As you hung up the phone, the door swung open and Lando appeared. Dishevelled but there.

“Baby I am so sorry I forgot about-“

“It’s fine,” you sighed, used to the excuses by now. “It’s whatever, Lando.”

“Baby, come on, let me make it up to you,” he tried again, but you stayed unchanged on the topic.

“Something will always be more important to you,” you mumbled. “And every single time it kills me. And I just let it. Because sadly, I love you so much that I let you treat me like this.”

“Baby that’s not-“

“We planned this months ago, Lando. And I put so much fucking effort in to looking nice for you, and you don’t show. I was so excited to have one fucking night where I wasn’t dating Lando Norris, Championship Fighter, McLaren Number One, McLarens saviour. One fucking might where I could just be a girl who got to dress up night for her boyfriend, who showed up to the date. One night when we could be normal people, that’s what I wanted, Lando.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have a lot on my mind…”

“Yeah, you do. Maybe we should break up.”

“W-what? You don’t mean that, right baby? Come on, I’m- we’re- you’re the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me. I don’t wanna lose you-“

“Yeah and you don’t want to have me either! Lando, I do fucking everything for you, I’m so fucking understanding every single time you disappoint or fucking annoy me. I understand that you're going through shit, and I’m here to help you. But I cannot deal with this disrespect anymore, alright? I am worth something! Right? Like, I have to be worth more than what you’re giving me, right?” You said, breaking down. Your plan had been to just keep calm and talk tomorrow, but that clearly flew out the window.

“I love you-“

“Do you?! Really?!”

You were both silent.

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Lewis Hamilton: he forgot

The silence was deafening in your shared home. You sat at the table, all dressed up with nowhere to go.

“Baby, I know I-“

“Just fuck off,” you sighed. “Go back to work, or whatever it was that held you up.”

“I wanna make it up to you, I’m sorry baby,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you.

You took a deep breath. “I just wanted one night,” you sighed and he nodded, feeling guiltier by the second. “Away from work and the kids, just one fucking night Lewis.”

“How about a weekend? We drop the kids off at Natalie’s and we can go away for the weekend?” He offered and pressed a kiss to your cheek..

“We’re busy this weekend.”

“Cancel it.”

“Cancel my promotion dinner?” You scoffed. “Cancel Ellie’s football match? Cancel half the grid coming over? Cancel Nick’s karting race?” You quested, listing off the things you had to supervise for the weekend.

He sighed. “I’m sorry baby, I forgot-“

“Yeah. You forgot. You keep fucking forgetting,” you groaned. “I just… I want some time. I’m pissed off right now and I just want to go to bed.”

“I’ll put the kids to bed,” he nodded. “I’m sorry again.”

“You’re always sorry Lewis. Just be there, for once,” you took a deep breath. “If not for me, then for our children. Don’t ruin the relationship because of your busy schedule.”

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George Russell: you forgot...

You walked into your shared apartment, exhausted after work.

“Hey darling,” he smiled, taking your bags out of your hands. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks love,” you smiled. Then you noticed the suit he was wearing. “You look handsome, what’s the occasion?”

His face fell. “Did you forget?”

Shit. You did. The fucking anniversary dinner. “No! Just joking!” You laughed. “Give me like 20 minutes to get ready, yeah?”

He smiled. “Alright, just remember our reservations are in a little while.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You completely forgot about the plans. No gift. No dress. Nothing.

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You sat at dinner, somehow throwing together something, only to find out it wasn’t a fucking date, but a surprise birthday party.

Your anniversary is months away.

“Sorry baby,” he smiled, not one bit sorry.

“I was terrified! I thought I’d fully forgotten!” You whined, rolling your eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a promise for more later.

“I'm sorry darling,” he added, a small wink in one eye as he pulled you into the dance floor.

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Alex Albon: genuinely injured

You sat in his apartment, waiting for him to finally show his face. He was 40 minutes late, and while this wasn’t a huge deal, you had made dinner which had gone cold, plus you felt your time should be at least worth a text.

The door finally opened and Alex walked through, well, uncoordinatedly crutched into the room, a huge boot covering his foot.

“Holy shit, Alex,” you cursed, shocked at the sight in front of you. He blushed slightly.

“Yeah… accident prone, or whatever my mum called me. I have a few weeks off,” he chuckled.

“What happened?” you asked, just staring down at the boot.

“Funny story, Lando-”

“Of fucking course it was you,” you scoffed, looking at the guilty Lando standing beside him.

“Lando accidentally ran over my foot,” he finished.

“With what?” you asked, wondering if it was a bike or something, surely Lando was an experienced enough driver to have not driven over Alex’s foot.

“A car,” Oscar explained. “Twice.”

You saw red, turning your attention to Lando. “You fucking idiot!” you seethed. You chuckled. “How fucking stupid are you?”

He just giggled and shrugged. “Very?” he offered as an answer.

“Thank you for bringing him home, now please leave before you cause any more bodily harm,” you sighed, showing Lando the door. You weren’t really mad, just shocked.

“I’m sorry I was late,” he sighed, sitting on the couch.

You chuckled. “You don’t have to apologise for that,” joining beside him. “I’m sorry you broke your foot.”

“Lando broke my foot,” he corrected and you just laughed and pressed your lips against his.

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Daniel Riccardo: he forgot

You walked into your shared apartment with your head held low. He’d forgotten your anniversary.

“Baby? Where have you been? Are you alri- you look beautiful,” he stood up, walking over to you. You looked up and he saw the tears streaming. That sinking feeling he’d had all day, the one that told him he forgot something, it finally clicked. He’d forgotten the date.

“Do you know how humiliating it is when someone stands you up? Do you know how humiliating it is when that gets fucking paparazzied?”

He gasped, no way you’d been subjected to the paparazzi. “Baby I’m so-”

“Sorry? Sure, I believe you,” you scoffed. “Just leave me be.”

You walked off to your bedroom and he was left to think about how he could pick up the broken pieces.

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Charles LeClerc: he’s just being a dick.

At least he remembered the date, but the fact that he’s sitting on his phone the entire time is literally gaining you pity smiles from other girls in the restaurant. When you went to the bathroom, two girls literally called him a ‘fucking asshole’ for what he’s doing to you, and gave you their numbers so you could be friends and bitch about him.

“Charles,” you sighed, looking down at your bowl of pasta. You weren’t exactly hungry anymore, and now you just wanted to go home instead of being publicly humiliated like this.

He looked up from his phone for a split second. “Yeah?” straight back down.

“Are you going to eat any time soon?” you sighed, looking at his full plate.

He looked at his food, then picked up a fry and ate it. “Eating, see?”

You rolled your eyes. “I want to go home.”

He finally put down his phone. “But we are having a nice date, no?”

“A ‘nice date’ usually includes talking of some sort, and maybe just a little bit of attention from my boyfriend,” you gritted out. “This is what I was talking about, if you don’t have time for me, I’d understand Charles. Just don’t waste my time like this.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry-”

“Sorry isn’t cutting it anymore Charles, I’m not just going to wait here forever like some little fangirl who’s just ‘so blessed’ to be dating the Charles LeClerc. I love you, not you being a racing driver, not you being a model, not anything else. I love you, Charles. And I’m starting to feel like you don’t love me back.”

“Mon ange, please listen-”

“I’m done listening, I’ll see you at home,” you said and got up, actually receiving a clap from the two girls you’d met in the bathroom.

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Max Verstappen: circumstances end it.

You called again. And again. And again.

No answer. As always.

Long distance was hard, it was always going to be. Max didn’t need to make it any harder by not showing up for your phone-dates. He hadn’t called in months. He hadn’t seen you in over a year. He hadn’t done anything. He was never the first to call or text. He was never the one making the effort. He made you feel like a burden. He made you feel like shit.

Max: Busy sorry. Can’t make it tonight.

You: Don’t bother calling again. We’re done.

Max: What are you talking about???

You: There’s always something more important than us. There’s always something you’d rather do. I’m so done with this shit Max. I want a boyfriend, not a fucking pen pal. I want a boyfriend who texts and calls me back. I want a boyfriend who asks about my day. I want someone who actually cares about me.

Max: I care about you! Alright, just let me call you later, I’m at HQ right now

You: Max. I. Am. Done. Don’t fucking call me, don’t text me, don’t visit me. Let me live my life in peace.

Max: Is that really what you want?

A tear fell down your cheek as you read the message. You wanted Max, but you knew you could never truly have him, he’d always be married to his craft, always be more in love with winning than he’d ever been with you.

You: Yes.

You have now blocked this user.

You had to think about yourself.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi@linnygirl09@lanadelray1989@teamnovalak@gleeblegnarp

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12daysofchristmas · 3 months ago

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Join us in the 2024 12 Days of Christmas Challenge as we hope to spread a little ✨holiday joy and cheer✨ through the magic of writing fanfiction & creating art!

About & Rules

The challenge will run from December 13-24, 2024.

The challenge is open to any and all fandoms.

Submissions must include at least one of the prompts for that day but can combine two, three, or all four.

Prompts for the day always include: a word/words, a scenario, a quote, a "famous" quote (taken from songs and movies)

Tag your submissions with #12daysofchristmas2024 and/or mention this blog so that we will be notified to reblog your submissions here. (Also, it would be super cool if you gave this blog a follow!)

Submissions for the day must be posted before midnight YOUR time. We're not super hard-and-fast about this rule, but posting within time is very much appreciated!

If you’re posting your submission directly on Tumblr (as opposed to linking to an external site such as AO3), you MUST use a “keep reading” cut!

Edit: We're now also allowing ALL KINDS OF ART: drawings, edits, aesthetics, mood boards, videos, podfics, fiber arts... go wild!

!! Absolutely NO AI creations !!

Please format ALL submissions with the following heading:

Title Day/Prompt(s) Fandom/Character(s)/Ship Warnings (if applicable): Word Count/Medium (in case it's art): Example: Santa, Baby Day 8 - “Prompt(s) for that day” AEW - Adam Page x OC Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, sexual situations (explicit) Word Count: 7,290 or: Medium: fan video

You can also include a summary, gif, edit, whatever you want! Just don’t forget the “keep reading” if you’re posting directly on Tumblr!

If you're posting on AO3, here's our collection: 12 Days of Christmas Collection

2024 Prompts

Day 1 ❄️ First snow ❄️ Getting soaked ❄️ “Your hands are so cold.” ❄️ “I suppose it all started with the snow.” —Frosty the Snowman

Day 2 ❄️ Little lie ❄️ Trapped together in a snowstorm ❄️ “I thought you knew where you were going?!” ❄️ “I don’t know what to say, but it’s Christmas, and we’re all in misery.” —National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Day 3 ❄️ Accelerated heartbeat ❄️ Kissing in the snow ❄️ “Here, take my coat.” ❄️ “Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right.” —Queen

Day 4 ❄️ Mulled wine ❄️ Playing board games ❄️ “I have no regrets.” ❄️ “Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.” —How the Grinch Stole Christmas, 2000

Day 5 ❄️ Cookies ❄️ Holiday-themed contest ❄️ “That definitely looks… interesting?” ❄️ “That is exactly why you want a high-quality fire extinguisher right in the kitchen.” —The Santa Clause

Day 6 ❄️ Present ❄️ Making a new Christmas tradition ❄️ “Not another Christmas movie!” ❄️ “You say you hate Washington’s birthday or Thanksgiving, and nobody cares, but you say you hate Christmas, and people treat you like you’re a leper.” —Gremlins

Day 7 ❄️ Decorations ❄️ A little accident ❄️ “I was just trying to help!” ❄️ “I want my house to be seen from space.” —Deck The Halls

Day 8 ❄️ Touch starved ❄️ Telling secrets around the fire ❄️ “Sometimes the hardest part is forgiving yourself.” ❄️ “Santa, can't you hear me?” —Ariana Grande & Kelly Clarkson

Day 9 ❄️ Christmas fair/market ❄️ Late shopping (together) ❄️ “Hmm, this is actually not bad.” ❄️ “When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn't really feel like Christmas at all.” —Coldplay

Day 10 ❄️ Surprise visit ❄️ Lighting scented candles ❄️ “I didn’t know you were here.” ❄️ “You’re skipping Christmas! Isn’t that against the law?” —Christmas with the Kranks

Day 11 ❄️ Fairy lights ❄️ Christmas party/ball ❄️ “I never want this night to end.” ❄️ “I won’t even wish for snow. And I’m just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe.” —Mariah Carey

Day 12 ❄️ Feast ❄️ Indoor picnic by the tree/fireplace ❄️ “I baked your favourite cookie/pie/cake.” ❄️ “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” —Sia

Extra Challenge

Angst or fluff, romance or platonic - you're unsure in what direction your fic should go? Spin our

Wheel

and let it decide for you! You can spin it once and write all fics with what comes up, you can spin it daily and change course accordingly, you can spin it as often as you need or not at all - it's all up to you.

Please don’t hesitate to contact us with any questions! Also, feel free to share this post and help spread the joy and cheer!

Happy writing, and good luck 🍀

#12daysofchristmas2024 #christmas writing challenge #christmas writing prompts #writing #challenge #christmas #christmas fanfiction #holiday fanfiction

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nadvs · 7 months ago

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omg i have this idea where its back in the college party days and y/n has had way too much to drink and rafe being the great fwb he is whisk her away back to his dorm but she keeps initiating sex but rafe keeps refusing bc she’s drunk but y/n keeps trying and eventually get off on his lap :3

aaaaaa this is so good 🤭 went with possessive/mean rafe here… it just felt right 👀

based on this fic! 18+!

» au masterlist

rafe is sure she’s had enough to drink when she starts table dancing. the guys in the frat house are cheering her on as she moves to the loud music and as much as rafe enjoys the sight of her dancing, he beckons her off the table.

he knows if she lets her go any longer, people might start recording her, and she’ll be mortified considering enough people on his campus know her as one of the cheerleaders on their rival college’s basketball team. and because he genuinely sees her as a friend now, he wants to spare her the embarrassment.

she’s laughing as they rush out of the house into the warm night, her hand at the crook of rafe’s elbow.

“why are we leaving?” she slurs.

“because you looked like you were about to start stripping,” rafe murmurs.

admittedly, even though they’re just messing around, he doesn’t like the idea of guys looking at her like that. she doesn’t belong to him, but sometimes he likes to think that she does.

“is that so bad?” she says. “could’ve earned some tips.”

“you’re so fucking drunk,” he laughs.

“where are we going?”

“my place.”

“oh,” she says. “what are we gonna do?”

“sleep.”

once they get into rafe’s dorm and she presses him up against the wall to kiss him, she realizes he’s going to keep teasing her when he gives her a chaste kiss on her lips and gently pushes her back at her shoulders.

“i’ll get you a shirt to sleep in,” he tells her.

“wait, you were being serious?” she says. “we’re just here to sleep?”

“yeah. you’re wasted.”

she looks up at him with a confused pout. having her here for himself while she’s so obviously horny is turning him on, but it feels wrong doing anything with her that she might forget.

just a few nights ago, they fell into conversation about flings they regret, and she told him she hates when she can’t remember all the details of a hook-up because she was too drunk.

it’s not like he’s just being a good guy. this isn’t all about nobility. he refuses to be part of anything she’d want to take back because if she regrets tonight, she might never want to hook up with him again.

“i would still want to if i was sober, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she says. “i always want to with you.”

coming from her, the compliment makes rafe’s cheeks go hot.

“still, it’s…” rafe steps away. “i can’t.”

she’s still confused as he keeps his back to her, rifling through his dresser. playing along, she pulls off her top and her jeans and her bra, breathing a sigh of relief once she’s out of her tight clothes.

when he turns around and sees her in just her panties, he stills. the way his eyes travel down her body makes it clear to her that he wants to fuck just as bad as she does.

“here,” he finally says, holding out a shirt for her. she steps closer to him, taking it.

“thanks.” she doesn’t rush to put it on. she’s too dizzy.

rafe clears his throat. at this point, he’s hard enough for her to be able to see it under his jeans.

she settles on his bed, putting on the shirt while he pulls his off. she gapes at his muscular body, crossing her legs just to relieve the ache between her legs.

he turns away as he takes off his jeans, but she already noticed what he’s trying to hide.

“you’re hard,” she says, leaning back.

rafe glances over his shoulder. she’s trying to seduce him. it’s almost working.

“obviously,” he says tensely, seeing her sitting pretty in his bed. “look at you.”

he starts to look for shorts to sleep in. but she reaches out to grab his hand.

“then why don’t we do something about it?”

she pulls him closer. while he could undoubtedly withstand her strength, he chooses not to, sinking next to her on his bed, left in just his boxers.

“do i need to prove to you how bad i want it?” she whispers, sitting up to straddle him.

rafe’s lips twist in frustration. he’s so hard that it hurts at this point. he feels like an idiot to not give her what she obviously wants, to not rip off what little clothes remain between them and fuck her as hard as he can, but it just doesn’t feel right.

“you’re too drunk,” he says, lids low as he tilts his head to meet her stare.

in her haze, she can finally see that he’s not teasing. he’s being serious. she’s disappointed, but flashes a small, understanding smile.

the look on her face makes rafe feel guilty. and he hardly ever feels guilty.

“sorry,” she says. “we’ll go to bed.”

she starts to swing her leg off him, but feels his fingers press into her thigh.

“wait,” he sighs.

he holds her hips tightly, pulling her down to sit on his bare thigh. when he feels how wet she is through her panties, arousal twists tightly in his stomach.

“damn,” he groans. “you really wanna get off that bad, hmm?”

“let’s…” she says breathily. “let’s go to bed. you don’t have to do this-”

“i won’t be doing anything,” he interrupts.

when he pushes his leg up against her, her breath hitches. she follows his lead, putting the slightest amount of pressure on him, slowly rolling her hips forward and finally finding a bit of relief, letting out a happy sigh.

heat pricks every inch of his skin. this is already a nearly impossible test of willpower.

“that feel good?” rafe’s voice is low and rough.

“yeah,” she says. she meets his eyes, her lips slightly parted as she rests her hands on his shoulders.

“what were you doing dancing like that?” his thumbs press harder into her hips, almost like he’s punishing her for getting him so turned on when he can’t do anything about it.

“having fun,” she whines. she grinds against his hard thigh again, the friction making goosebumps bloom on her skin.

rafe’s hand runs up the curve of her hip and dips under the shirt draped over her body, cupping her breast.

“you can’t be doing that anymore, you understand?” he mutters.

“i understand,” she answers breathily. right now, she’ll say anything he wants her to let her keep doing this.

her writhes start to get harder. when he pinches her nipple, she moans and her eyes flutter shut. he stares at her, the way her pretty features fall in pleasure.

he hates the thought of another man seeing her like this. and he hates that he cares. he tells himself it’s the blue balls making him so angry and possessive.

“were you hoping some other guy would take you home?” he says, flexing his thigh. she moans again at the pressure, grinding with fervent hunger.

“no.” she shakes her head. “no.”

her breaths start to get faster as she rides him, body tensing from the pressure, from the way he’s playing with her tits.

“you think another guy would let you use him like this?” he says.

she leans closer, capturing his lips, kissing him out of sheer appreciation. their tongues meet, hot against each other.

“thank you,” she breathes, her forehead pressed against his.

“yeah, you better fucking thank me,” rafe mutters.

her grip on his shoulders tightens as she rolls her hips, thighs aching as the friction on her clit is finally enough to make her body shake in release.

she rides out her orgasm, trembling on top of him, moaning so loud that rafe can’t wait until the next time he can be inside of her, earning those sounds from her in his favorite way.

she stays seated on his lap, panting in his ear. her entire body is tingling in pleasure and exhaustion.

his cock is throbbing with how turned on he is. but he wraps an arm around her waist, guiding her onto his pillow, looking down at her lying in his bed with her chest heaving and her eyes shut.

when she wakes up, her head in splitting pain. she shuffles to feel rafe’s arm draped over her, his chest against her back.

she rubs her eye with her knuckle. the ache of her hangover hits her immediately.

“you want another shot?” rafe grumbles behind her, the smile in his voice apparent.

“ugh,” she says, nauseous at the thought of it. “you’re a dick.”

“what?” he laughs, playing dumb.

she shuts her eyes again. as she stretches out her legs, she feels his erection against her ass. and then she recalls bits and pieces of last night. him refusing to hook up since she was so wasted. getting off on his lap. thanking him. coming so hard that her body went numb.

“did i dance on a table last night?” she murmurs.

“you remember, huh?”

“fuck,” she whispers into his pillow. rafe hopes she doesn’t remember his show of possession last night. she doesn’t seem to.

“you wouldn’t have sex with me,” she recalls.

“no matter how much you begged.”

he expects her to tease him back, but she doesn’t.

“i’m definitely sober now,” she says, pushing up against him. “if you want to.”

she feels him twitch against her. she wants this. and he deserves it.

“i think you do,” she says.

rafe impatiently pulls her panties down. she raises her leg, feeling the head of his cock pressing against her as he guides himself between her legs.

he groans into her hair once he sinks into her, enjoying the familiar feeling of her heat wrapped around him. this is the best way to start his morning, deep inside her.

he doesn’t build up the pace. instead, he starts slamming her from behind at the speed he wants, hand on her hip as he fucks her just how he likes.

unlike every other time they’ve fucked, it doesn’t take long for him to come, his hips striking against her ass in sporadic jerks.

they’re both breathless when he pulls out. eventually, she finally finds the strength to sit up. she looks back at him, offering him a tired smile despite her aching head as she starts to pull off his shirt.

“just give it back later,” rafe says.

he feels off. he knows they’re friends. that this isn’t their last time hooking up. but it’s weirdly comforting for her to hold on to something of his and have a reason to see him again.

she shrugs and keeps his shirt on, finding her pants on the floor. he watches her pull her jeans on, wishing he knew how to shake this feeling she gives him that no other girl ever has.

“thanks. i’ll see you soon,” she says, heading for the door.

rafe finds himself thinking he can’t wait until then.

#ask #swteblurb #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader

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anticipatedexhale · 11 days ago

Text

Happy birthday!!! It's a day to celebrate you!

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi, ekko

☆ ◞ summary: they surprise you on your birthday!

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader, flufffff and also definitely not proofread

Mel Medarda.

Mel Medarda did not do things halfway. When she loved, she loved with intensity. When she planned, she planned meticulously. And when it came to you? Well, she was going to make sure your birthday was something you would never forget.

You had a feeling something was up when, the night before, she had simply kissed your cheek and said, “Wear something nice tomorrow, darling.” That was it. No explanation. No hints. Just a knowing smile before she walked away, leaving you both intrigued and slightly terrified.

And now? You were standing in front of an enormous, private dinner setup on one of Piltover’s highest balconies, the entire city glittering below like a sea of golden stars. A long, lavish table stretched before you, covered in candlelight, rich wines, and an array of gourmet dishes that looked too perfect to eat. Soft music played in the background, and the scent of fresh roses filled the air.

Your mouth fell open slightly. “Mel…”

She was standing beside you, looking as breathtaking as ever in a deep gold dress, her earrings catching the candlelight. She smiled at your reaction, clearly pleased with herself. “Surprised?”

“That’s an understatement,” you breathed, turning to her. “How did you—when did you—?”

She chuckled, looping an arm through yours and guiding you toward the table. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

You shook your head in disbelief as she pulled out your chair for you—because of course she did—before settling in across from you. “Mel, this is… a lot.”

She arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “Are you saying you don’t like it?”

“No! It’s—” You gestured around wildly. “It’s incredible. I just don’t know how to deserve all this.”

Mel leaned forward, resting her chin delicately against her fingers. “You don’t have to deserve it,” she said softly. “I wanted to do this. Because you deserve to feel celebrated. To feel adored.”

Your chest tightened at her words. She had always been someone who built walls, who calculated every move, but with you? She always let you see the tenderness beneath it all.

A warmth spread through you as you reached across the table, taking her hand in yours. “Thank you, Mel. For everything.”

She smiled, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Happy birthday, my love,” she murmured. “Now, let’s toast—to you.”

She lifted her glass, and as you clinked yours against hers, you realized that, out of everything—the lavish gifts, the extravagant setting—the real gift was this: Mel, choosing to love you in the way only she could.

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

Jayce Talis.

Jayce had never been great at keeping secrets. It wasn’t that he was bad at lying—he just got too excited and always ended up giving himself away. So, when your birthday was coming up, you could tell something was up.

He’d been acting weird all week—disappearing for hours, sending hurried messages to people when he thought you weren’t looking, and worst of all? He sucked at playing it cool.

“What are you up to?” you had asked him the night before, arms crossed as he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to distract you from a set of blueprints on his desk.

“Nothing!” he had said way too quickly, grinning wide enough to make it obvious that he was lying. “Just, uh, some important Council business!”

You didn’t buy it for a second. But instead of prying, you decided to let him have his fun.

Fast forward to today. Your birthday.

The entire morning had gone by suspiciously normally. Jayce hadn’t mentioned a word about it. No casual "Happy birthday!" No cheeky wink. Not even a hint of whatever he had been planning. You were starting to wonder if he’d somehow forgotten—until you walked into his workshop.

The second you stepped inside, BOOM!

Confetti everywhere.

Not just a little—an entire explosion of tiny colored paper pieces rained down on you from above, and in the middle of it all stood Jayce, arms wide open, looking way too proud of himself.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” he shouted, grinning like a kid who just pulled off the best prank ever.

You blinked, completely frozen in shock as confetti slowly drifted onto your hair, your shoulders… everywhere.

Jayce, realizing that maybe confetti cannons were a bit much for an indoor setting, winced. “Uh… okay, maybe that was overkill.”

You stared at him, then at the absolute mess he had just created, and finally burst into laughter.

“Jayce! What the hell?!” you managed between laughs, shaking the confetti out of your hair.

He let out a relieved chuckle, stepping forward to wrap his arms around you. “Okay, so maybe I got a little carried away,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But hey, at least it was memorable, right?”

“Very,” you teased, resting your head against his chest. “But please tell me this isn’t all you planned.”

Jayce gasped dramatically. “Of course not! Who do you think I am?”

With that, he took your hand and led you toward the back of the workshop, where a table was set up with a cake—one that was definitely a little lopsided but obviously homemade. Next to it, a small pile of gifts, and most importantly? A chair with another small confetti cannon.

“Jayce,” you warned, eyeing it.

“Okay, fine, I’ll put it down,” he said with a laugh, setting it aside. “But I do have one more surprise.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped box. The moment you opened it, your breath caught—it was a tiny Hextech pendant, glowing faintly, crafted into a delicate design.

“I made it myself,” he said, a little bashful now. “Figured you deserved something special.”

Your heart melted. All the ridiculousness, the over-the-top confetti, the chaotic energy—it was so Jayce. And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You looked up at him, smiling softly. “This is perfect.”

Jayce exhaled, finally relaxing. “Good,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

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

Viktor.

Viktor wasn’t the type for grand gestures. He didn’t do over-the-top surprises or loud celebrations. He preferred the quiet things—the ones that mattered, the ones you’d carry with you long after the day had passed.

That’s why, when your birthday came around, you weren’t expecting much. Not because he didn’t care—far from it. But because Viktor was always lost in his work, constantly chasing ideas, and you didn’t want to burden him with expectations.

So, when the morning passed without so much as a mention of your birthday, you tried not to let the disappointment creep in. Maybe he really had forgotten.

But then, late in the evening, as you walked into his dimly lit workshop, you found something waiting for you on his desk.

A small, neatly wrapped package. And next to it, a stack of papers, the ink still fresh.

Your name was written at the top.

Curious, you picked up the papers, eyes scanning the first few lines. And then your heart stopped.

It was a letter. No—many letters. Pages upon pages, filled with Viktor’s precise handwriting.

You sat down slowly, hands trembling as you began to read.

He wrote about the day he met you. How he hadn’t expected someone like you to step into his life, let alone stay. How, despite the chaos of his mind and the limits of his body, you had never treated him as anything less than whole.

He wrote about the small things. The way you made tea exactly how he liked it, even though you hated the taste. How you always remembered to bring an extra blanket when he fell asleep at his desk. The way you touched him—so gently, as if you saw the pieces of him that no one else did.

He wrote about the nights he spent awake, thinking of you. Wondering how someone like him had managed to deserve someone like you.

And at the very bottom, in slightly messier handwriting, was the last line:

"If I am to leave any mark on this world, let it be the love I have for you."

Tears blurred your vision by the time you finished. You pressed a hand to your mouth, overwhelmed, as you turned to see Viktor standing in the doorway, watching you with quiet apprehension.

“You—” Your voice broke. “You wrote all of this?”

A faint flush touched his cheeks as he shifted his cane, looking away for a moment. “I am not good with spoken words,” he admitted softly. “But I wanted you to know.”

You stood, crossing the room in seconds before wrapping your arms around him. Viktor stiffened slightly, then melted into your embrace, exhaling shakily.

“You didn’t forget,” you murmured against his shoulder.

His hand came up to rest against your back. “Of course not,” he whispered. “How could I?”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes still wet. “This is the best gift I’ve ever received.”

Viktor’s lips curled into a small, almost shy smile. “Then I suppose it was worth every word.”

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

Caitlyn.

Caitlyn Kiramman was a woman of precision. Strategy. Planning. She didn’t do things on a whim—every move she made had a purpose. So, when your birthday rolled around, you knew she had something up her sleeve.

But you hadn’t expected this.

“Caitlyn,” you said slowly, staring at the handwritten note she had left on your bedside table. “Is this… a scavenger hunt?”

The paper was neat, her elegant script detailing a simple instruction: "Meet me at the shooting range. Wear something comfortable. Happy birthday, darling."

A grin tugged at your lips. You had no idea what she was up to, but you weren’t about to back down from the challenge.

Clue #1: The Shooting Range

When you arrived, the place was empty—except for Caitlyn, who stood there in her crisp uniform, a knowing smirk on her face.

"Right on time," she said, stepping forward to hand you your next note.

"You really set all this up?" you asked, amused.

She winked. "I am the Sheriff, you know. I have my ways."

You unfolded the paper, laughing when you read it. "Show me what you've got—hit the target three times in a row, and I'll give you your next clue."

“Oh, you know I’m not as good as you,” you groaned, giving her a playful glare.

She merely crossed her arms, looking smug. “Then I guess you won’t be getting your next clue.”

You sighed dramatically before stepping up to take your shots. By some miracle (and maybe a little bit of Caitlyn’s coaching over the years), you managed to land all three.

Caitlyn looked genuinely impressed. “Not bad. I might have some competition.”

You grinned. “Now give me the next clue, Sheriff.”

Clue #2: The Bakery

The next stop led you to a small, tucked-away bakery—one that you and Caitlyn often visited after long days at work. The moment you stepped inside, the owner smiled knowingly and handed you a small, beautifully wrapped box.

Inside? Your favorite pastry, still warm. And another note.

"A little something sweet before your final stop. Meet me at the place where we first realized we were more than just friends."

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew exactly where that was.

Final Stop: The Rooftop

You climbed the familiar fire escape, the city stretching out beneath you. The cool breeze hit your skin as you reached the top, and there she was—waiting for you with a picnic set up, lanterns glowing softly around her.

Caitlyn turned at the sound of your footsteps, her smile softer now, more intimate. “Took you long enough.”

You let out a breathless laugh, taking in the sight. “You really went all out.”

She stepped forward, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I wanted today to be special for you. You deserve that.”

Your chest tightened at the tenderness in her voice. You reached up, taking her hand in yours. “It already is.”

She exhaled, eyes searching yours before leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. When she pulled back, she smirked. “Happy birthday, darling. Now, come on—before the food gets cold.”

And as you sat together, laughing and sharing stories under the stars, you knew that this—her—was the best gift you could have ever asked for.

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

Vi.

Vi never made a big deal about birthdays—especially her own. But when it came to you? She wanted to do something. It didn’t have to be fancy or extravagant, just something that would make you smile.

So when you woke up to an empty bed and a note scrawled in her messy handwriting—"Meet me at our spot. And wear something you can move in."—you had a feeling this was going to be interesting.

The "spot" turned out to be an old, abandoned bridge overlooking Zaun, a place you two often went when you needed to get away. When you arrived, Vi was already waiting, leaning against the railing with her usual cocky smirk.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," she greeted, pushing off and walking toward you. "Took you long enough."

"You are aware that normal people do things like dinner and gifts, right?" you teased.

Vi shrugged, draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close. "Yeah, well, I ain’t normal, and you’re not getting some boring, predictable date."

Before you could ask what she meant, she stepped back and tossed you something—knuckle guards. Not unlike hers, but sleeker, custom-fitted to your hands.

You stared at them, then back at her. "Vi—"

She grinned. "Figured we could get into a little trouble together tonight. You game?"

Oh, of course she planned a street fight for your birthday. You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re unbelievable."

"Yeah, yeah, but you love me anyway," she said, nudging your chin up with her gloved hand. "And after this? We’ll grab some drinks, maybe dance, maybe do something actually romantic."

You slipped on the knuckle guards, flexing your fingers. "You know, for once, I think I like your idea."

Vi smirked. "Atta babe."

And with that, she grabbed your hand and pulled you into the night, ready to make this a birthday neither of you would forget.

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

Jinx.

Jinx didn’t do things halfway. Ever. If she was going to celebrate your birthday, then it wasn’t just going to be some boring dinner or a couple of gifts. No, no, no. It had to be big. It had to be chaotic. And, most importantly, it had to be fun.

So when you woke up to a loud BOOM in the distance, followed by a series of colorful fireworks lighting up the Zaun skyline, you had a gut feeling that Jinx had something to do with it.

You barely had time to get out of bed before the door slammed open, and there she was—grinning wildly, hair messy, hands covered in soot.

“Happy birthday, hot stuff!” she practically screamed, launching herself at you.

You barely caught her, stumbling back as she wrapped her arms and legs around you like an overexcited monkey. “Jinx—what the hell was that explosion?”

She giggled, pressing a quick, excited kiss to your cheek. “Your birthday surprise!”

“…You blew something up for my birthday?”

“Duh! But it wasn’t just something—it was a whole abandoned building! You should’ve seen it—BOOM, KABOOM, colors everywhere!” She jumped down, grabbing your hand. “C’mon, I saved the best for last!”

You weren’t even dressed properly before she was dragging you out the door, her energy contagious despite the slight panic bubbling in your chest.

The Grand Finale

She led you to an open rooftop, one of her favorite hideouts. The moment you stepped onto it, you saw what she had set up—scrap metal and neon signs arranged into a very crooked-looking Happy Birthday! message, flashing erratically with sparks flying from the edges.

Your mouth fell open. “Jinx… did you—”

“Make it myself?” She puffed out her chest proudly. “You betcha!”

It was… chaotic. Dangerous, even. But it was so Jinx, and the fact that she had put in all this effort—in her own, reckless way—made your heart ache in the best way.

She flopped onto the floor, patting the space beside her. “Alright, birthday babe, sit. I got one more thing.”

You sat down, still in awe as she pulled a small, messily wrapped box from her coat. “Now, before you open it, just know that I think it’s cool, and if you don’t like it, I will cry. Probably. No pressure.”

You gave her a playful side-eye before unwrapping it. Inside was… a handmade, slightly dented metal locket, with her signature blue monkey logo engraved on it.

You opened it and nearly laughed—inside was a tiny, badly drawn stick-figure version of you and her holding hands.

Jinx watched you carefully, chewing her lip. “Sooo… you like it, or am I gonna have to start the waterworks?”

You turned to her, grinning. “Jinx, I love it.”

Her face lit up, and before you could react, she tackled you in a tight hug, knocking both of you onto the ground.

“Best! Birthday! Ever!” she cheered, giggling as she pressed kisses all over your face. “Now, let’s set off the big fireworks!”

You exhaled, laughing as she pulled you back up, her excitement never fading. And as she set off the last explosion of the night—lighting up the sky in wild, electric blue—you realized that, in all her chaos, Jinx had given you the most uniquely perfect birthday you could have ever asked for.

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Ekko.

Ekko was a man of few surprises. He was methodical, thoughtful, and knew how to make things right—whether it was fixing a broken clock or fixing his world. But birthdays? That was a bit of a new territory for him. So when yours came around, you could tell he was determined to make it special.

You woke up that morning to a soft knock on your door. When you opened it, there stood Ekko with a wide grin on his face, holding a small box wrapped in plain paper.

"Happy birthday," he said, his voice warm and a little sheepish. "I hope you like it."

You smiled, taking the gift from him and opening it. Inside was a beautiful, hand-carved pendant—a clockwork piece that looked just like a miniature version of his old time machine. It was intricate, delicate, and totally Ekko.

"You made this?" you asked, amazed.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know it's not much, but I thought you'd like something that... reminded you of us."

The pendant was a symbol of time, and that alone was enough to make your heart flutter. You couldn't help but smile as you hugged him, thankful for the gesture. "I love it."

"Good," he said, his grin returning. "Now, c'mon. I have something else planned."

A Quiet Escape Through Time

Ekko led you through the streets of Zaun, but this time, there was no rush. No plans to rush into battle or solve problems. This time, it was all about you—and the time you’d spent together.

As you walked, Ekko began to recount stories of the past: your first meeting in the undercity, when he had been just a kid trying to survive; the way you helped him and his friends when everything felt like it was falling apart. With every story, you felt yourself sinking deeper into the warmth of his words.

Eventually, you came to a quiet, secluded spot by the river, an area you didn’t even know existed. The sound of the water trickling over rocks was the only noise in the air, and the view of the stars above was breathtaking.

Ekko set down a small blanket he had brought along, gesturing for you to sit. "This was one of my favorite spots when I needed to think," he said softly. "I figured you might like it too."

You sat down beside him, your legs stretched out on the soft grass. Ekko opened a small pack, pulling out a couple of homemade sandwiches, some fruit, and a thermos filled with his own special brew.

"Happy birthday," he said again, handing you a cup of the drink. "I thought we could have a peaceful moment together. No chaos. Just... us."

You took the cup, your heart swelling with affection. "This is perfect," you said, your voice quiet but full of meaning.

Ekko watched you for a moment, then smiled, though there was something a little more sincere behind his eyes. "I know we’ve been through a lot. And I know I don’t always show it, but... I’m really glad you’re in my life."

You reached out, gently resting your hand on his. "I’m glad I’m in yours too, Ekko."

For the rest of the night, the two of you sat together, talking and laughing under the stars, with no rush or distractions. And when the moon was high in the sky, Ekko pulled you into his arms, holding you close.

"I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I know I’m happy right here, right now," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As the night wore on, you couldn’t help but feel that Ekko’s simple, thoughtful celebration was exactly what you needed. In that quiet moment, everything felt just right. Time could slow down, but with him by your side, you knew that every second was worth it.

Author note: GUYSSSS ITS MY BDAY IM FINALLY 17 YUPPIEEE (Jan 30)

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fleurriee · 8 months ago

Note

oh my god i need a-z alphabet of aemond or whatever it is. foaming at the mouth for this man fr

inspired by @moralesluvr & their a-z

again, more than likely ooc aemond but aren't most fics of him??

this was written over a period of months at sporadic times & i haven't read it through so...

affection — how affection are they? do they show affection?

aemond is not an affection person - i mean, do you know how he was brought up? the only affection he's ever really been shown is when his mother stood up for him that night he lost his eye. so, it's definitely safe to say that affection & aemond do not go together. until he met you, at least.

you're not overly affectionate yourself, but there were certain things you'd do that would make him tense up a little - like, stroking his arm, touching his hand, giving him little compliments, etc. at first, when you'd do these to him, he'd want nothing more than to run away and forget it ever happened... but, the more you did it, the more he got used to it, and the more he craved it.

of course, when you finally get to a point in your relationship where aemond started showing affection back to you, he would only ever do so in the privacy of your chambers, when only those in view were the two of you. it wasn't that he was worried he would come across as weak - he didn't want people to know you were his upmost weakness.

eventually, too, both his mother and heleana are allowed to see these little special moments between the two of you, but that’s all.

bye — what do they do when they need to leave? how are they feeling?

aemond is a busy man, especially when his older brother takes the throne. so, more often than not, the two of you need to part, which is something he hates. he hates not knowing where you’ll be, what you’ll be doing, who you’ll be with — and it’s not a possessive thing, it’s a worried thing. he always worries something bad might happen to you, someone might do something to get back at him.

the first thing he does is reassure you that he’ll back as soon as he possibly can, worded in a way that doesn’t allow him to promise that he won’t be long, because he knows he will be. he takes your face in his hands when he utters these promises to you, looking straight at your eyes so you can see the sincerity. he places gentle kisses all across your face, smiling a little to himself when he hears your giggles. that sounds alone is enough for him to go on.

cuddles — do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?

aemond cuddles in a way that keeps you safe. when you’re in bed, he’ll lie on his back with you lay right next to him, arm draped on his front whilst his goes behind your head. he likes to way he can play with your hair between his fingers, combing it through and soothing you; he likes that he can feel you moving with his every breath as you lay upon his chest. it constantly reminds him that you’re there, that you’re real.

there’s also the times when the two of you have a somewhat free day, spending it together in the silence of your chambers reading your separate books. more often than not, you’re sat apart, trying to concentrate, but then there’s the moments when aemond just needs you that little bit closer. he’ll be sat in his chair, unable to focus with his mind constantly drifting back to you, so he gestures you over. the position isn’t exactly a completely comfortable one, but you’re close, and that’s all you care about. you’ll be sat on his lap, both arms around your middle as he carries on reading, you head on his shoulder. it just makes the silence all the more beautiful for him.

domestic — how domestic are they? do they want to settle down?

aemond can come across quite domestic, but maybe that’s just because he knows eventually, the two of you will have no choice but to be so. and, he tries, at least more than his brother did with heleana. it’s always the little things — holding your hand in a gentle grip when leaving a carriage, making sure you don’t lose your step; pulling out the chair for you and pushing you back in at feasts.

like i said, it’s his duty, so he knows he wants to settle down. but, there was a time when he never thought he would because he couldn’t find anyone who would want to settle down with him, something he attributed to his missing eye. and then, he met you, and you didn’t care he had something missing. in that moment, he knew he was ready to finally begin his duties.

equal — how much effort do they put into the relationship?

aemond likes to give back as much to you as he can possibly try. of course, at first, he didn’t know how to properly do what you do to him — how is it that you’re able to make him blush when he’s never done so before; how is it that you’re capable of causing his heart to beat at rapid pulses?

aemond simply wanted to make you feel as loved as you made him feel. what type of husband would he be if he couldn’t do that for his very own wife? so, until he could finally figure out what got your heart racing, he’s definitely thinking of different ways to make you fall more impossibly in love with him.

fiancé — how are they in an engagement?

when aemond finally warms up to the idea of possibly being in a marriage alliance that could make him happy, he somehow turns it into the perfect betrothal.

he makes sure to spend as much time with you as he possibly can whenever he’s free, learning all your likes and dislikes, what your favourite hobbies are, etc. not only does he want to know everything he can about you, but it also helps to know how to best make you smile.

if he learns that you like to read, best believe he’s spending time with you in the library, the both of you talking about your favourite books; if you like to embroider, he’s definitely asking heleana if you can join her, making even sitting in silence with you as you converse with his sister.

aemond wants to make your life as easy as he can, and he knows that by reassuring you during your engagement that you’ll be safe and even potentially happy with him is just the first step.

gentle — how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

how is it that aemond can be both gentle and aggressive? to anyone looking in from the outside, he’s a rock, as hard as stone and the only expression you’ll find on his face is a smirk. he’s willing to prove himself to anyone — show how much of a warrior he is now that he’s practiced almost as much as he’s breathed.

but to you, behind the privacy of your chamber doors? it’s almost like he’s trying to handle a butterfly. he’s so nervous that maybe his rough, calloused hands will be too harsh on you, that his attempt at a smile might look a little too like a smirk. but, he tries, and that’s all you can ask of him.

hugs — do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

aemond is not a hugger. he finds it almost too intimate, too uncomfortable. when you first tried to hug him, all he felt was tense and stiff. none of it felt right.

now, he’ll give in to a hug on certain occasions, like when you’re upset — especially when you’re upset. the moment he sees your teary eyes and quivering lips, he’s instantly wrapping you in his embrace, forgetting all about the fact that on a normal day, he’d hate it. but, he knows you need comforting, and he’s willingly to do just about anything to make you feel better.

aemond’s hugs, despite not being used to them, feel like a protective circle, more so when you’re in need of comforting and he’s using the tightest grip he has on you. it’s like he needs you to know that he’s there, that he’s close by, that his body is always going to be entwined with yours.

i love you — how fast do they say the words?

it takes aemond forever — i’m talking years. again, though, can you really blame him when he’s not even sure what love actually is? he wasn’t shown barely even a smidge growing up — how’s he supposed to know that’s what he’s feeling every time he looks at you?

but, even when he finally figures it out, you best believe he’s keeping that secret to himself for a while longer. the idea of you not feeling the same way, of you feeling repulsed, of you laughing at his face for even thinking such a way is such a terrifying thought for him, he’d be to worried to ever confess.

when he eventually does, however, he’s not even aware he’s saying the words until his mind fully focuses on the expression you’re giving him. the two of you were in bed, you lay on top of him, your finger mindlessly running circles on his chest after spending your time intimately together. you were telling him about your day, how happy you’d been to spend it with heleana and how she always manages to make you feel young again, when the words just flew through him mouth.

needless to say, after that moment and the way you so lovingly reacted to it, aemond loves to whisper it in your ear.

jealousy — how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?

aemond doesn’t like to admit, but he gets jealous more often than not. he’s fallen far and hard, and the idea of you ever falling for someone else, or someone trying to, it scares him.

he keeps his cool as best as he can, clenching both his jaw and his fists, hoping that the lord who offered you to dance at the feast won’t try to pull anything that will make him want to break his neck.

and, he’ll just stew in his jealousy until the whole things over. he’ll never take it out on you, because he knows you couldn’t exactly say no when a lord asks you to dance. and, he knows he’ll never have to courage to do what they can — he can’t dance with you in front of everybody, but he sure as hell can when your in your chambers, and you’re always there to reassure him that you’d take him over any lord for the rest of your life.

kisses — what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?

for the longest time, aemond’s kisses are just pecks, and only across the back of your hand. when he started to get bolder the closer your relationship became, he’d peck your cheeks, your forehead. he was scared when he first kissed your lips, again just a peck, but after that first time, his hands cupping your face in such an intimate way, he couldn’t help himself. his kisses are still soft, but there’s a greediness to it, one that shows how starving he is for more of you.

aemond fucking loves it when you kiss his scar — he’s never felt so much love in his entire life. the way you never try to pressure him to take the patch off, your thumbs stroking soothingly against the white mark before placing such a gentle caress of a kiss against it? god, he’d do anything for you when you do that to him.

little ones — how are they around children? how many do they want?

aemond isn’t the best around children, never really know how best to act, or what to say, or worried he might come across as some monster just from the sight of him alone. but, when heleana had the twins, something in him changed. he cared for them unconditionally, allowing them to pull on his hair and climb on him just because they were bored. being an uncle made him realise that maybe one day he could do the same with his own children.

he would want as many kids as you would allow him — he’d definitely want to be the next jaehaerys when it comes to all his heirs. he couldn’t think of anything better than having a big family with you, uncaring as to whether they were all boys, all girls or a mixture of both. aemond would want boys for the longest time, teach to be fierce warriors and have them protect your family, but as the time got closer, he’d secretly start wanting a girl, who he’d raise the same and love all the more.

morning — how are mornings spent with them?

mornings with aemond are rare. more often than not, he’s unfortunately called for some business or counsel meeting he really couldn’t be bothered for, having to leave your warm embrace for a cold welcome somewhere else.

but, on the rare occasions where he somehow managed both the old gods and the new to allow him a free morning, you spend it stuck against one another, allowing yourselves more time to sleep in.

night — how are nights spent with them?

nights with aemond are either spent with the two of you wrapped in bed, on the chairs by the fire — but, either way, the two of you are full of conversation. it can be spent with whatever you’ve done during that day, or how you’re thinking of spending the next one.

aemond always makes sure someone has your fire going and a bath reading before either of you arrive there. he likes it when you have baths together, facing the window as you just look out at the sky. you could be spending it in silence for all he cares, as long as it’s just the two of you, he doesn’t care.

open — when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait to reveal things slowly?

it would take aemond so long to open himself up to you, even when it came to the little things about him.

in order to do so, he felt as though he needed to know more about you first — about whether you would even be worthy of nothing all the ins and outs of him. and even then, when he finally understood you completely, it was nerve wracking for him, coming clean and being vulnerable with anyone.

aemond definitely took his time opening himself up, too, in the sense that he wouldn’t unload everything onto you at once. he would just subtly mention something he hadn’t told you before whenever it felt right in the middle of a conversation — and one thing he loved about you, was that you never made a big deal out of it. you just took the information in with a small smile on your face and carried on.

patience — how easily angered are they?

like i said before, this man gets jealous easy, and the same goes for his anger.

we all know what aemond is like and the shit he's been through, so is it really any surprise?

but he's good at hiding it - he does that smirk of his and his eyes narrow dangerously. to anyone else but you, they'd just think that was his resting expression.

however, when others take it just a little too far?? with you?? yeah, they're dead, the blood of the dragon comes out in him for sure.

he tries not to maim them too much for your sake, but he's definitely fed a few people to vhagar because they insulted you.

quizzes — how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or forget everything?

aemond remembers everything.

he doesn't talk much; her prefers to listen, so he's very attentive with you. during your courting days, when you were getting to know one another more properly, he'd learned everything about you and made sure to keep it all locked within a little safe in his mind.

he'll remember all dates you consider important so he can do something special for you; he'll remember your favourite book so he can make sure you always have a spare with you; he'll remember your favourite flowers so he can spoil you rotten with them.

the list is simply endless with this man.

remember — what is their favourite memory of your relationship?

the day he finally revealed his sapphire to you.

it was one of his biggest worries; you'd not long been married, and you were getting along so well, he was terrified that the moment you laid eyes on it, you were going to run.

he couldn't stand the idea of you leaving him, of thinking him less than because of his scars.

but, it happened in the spur of a moment type of way - you'd wanted to see all of him for a while now but you didn't want to push him, and whilst the two of you were kissing heatedly in your rooms, one of your hands repeatedly got stuck between his eye patch and his hair. without even realising what he was doing, aemond took it off.

the silence was deafening as you gazed upon him, all of him, and aemond swore he could feel his heart in his throat.

all of that changed when you smiled at him as you always had done, filled with such love and admiration, and you carried on like nothing happened.

aemond knew from that moment on there was no other explanation other than you were put on this world just for him.

security — how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?

aemond targaryen? protective? they're basically synonyms.

fr though, all aemond is thinking about is where you are and whether you're safe, but not in an overbearing, possessive way. he just knows that you're his biggest weakness, and it's probably painfully obvious to everyone else.

when you're apart, aemond always makes sure you have at least 3 of his most trusted guards with you at all times, even if you're only spending the day in the library.

when you're together, aemond's protective in the little ways. it's important to him that you're always on his good side, allowing him to see where you are and who else is nearby in case they try anything; if you're a little bit in front of him, he'll have his hand on the small of your back, for his sake more than yours, but if you're standing next to one another, he asks you to put his arm through his, the comfort of your presence giving him ease.

aemond knows you're not an overly protective person, but he absolutely adores it when you stand up for him, defending his honour when you hear someone slander him, be it for his looks or his demeanour. he loves how angry and protective you get over him, and he wouldn't want you to do anymore than that.

try — how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts?

aemond's a 50/50 guy when it comes to stuff like this.

you mean a lot to him, and he'll do almost anything to put a smile on your face, so long as it's just between the two of you.

he won't want to do anything too extravagant or adventurous; the most it's gone has been when he took you flying on vhager for the first time.

he likes to keep it kind of low key. he make sure you have several bouquets of your favourite flowers in your rooms for you; the cooks have prepared your favourite breakfast, dinner and deserts; and he'll make sure he spends the entire day with you, clearing off anything else he needs to do and shoving it away for another day.

ugly — what are some bad habits of theirs?

aemond is big on silent treatment.

he didn't talk about any of his feelings when he was younger, and unfortunately, it's something he ended up taking with him as he grew older.

you know he tries his absolute hardest to not give you the silent treatment, but when it's been engrained within your brain your entire life, it's easier said than done. he knows you hate it, and it's something he's definitely trying to work on for you.

another thing would be his anger towards others. with you, he never gets angry, because how could he ever get angry at his sweet little wife? but with others, he's brutal.

it's another thing you hate when he does, the way he so callously beats and maims others for something you wouldn't think deserve such a punishment.

vanity — how concerned are they with their looks?

aemond's not exactly concerned, but he is cautious.

when he looks at you, all he sees are the stars in your eyes and the goddess far above within your features. and standing next to him, he knows it has to be such a sight.

he's always been one to take care of his hair - it's just his eye.

he doesn't like the way it stands out so brutishly against your shining figure, dark and cruel.

of course, the start to changing his way of thinking happens after he reveals his eye to you, and he realises that it only matters what you think, no one else.

whole — would they feel incomplete without you?

oh, yes.

beforehand, aemond never wanted a wife, he never wanted a family, he just simply wanted to protect his family like the dutiful son he was.

but once you've fallen into his dark embrace and he's finally gotten a taste of what marriage life is supposed to be like, aemond can't imagine anything any other way.

xtra — a random headcannon for them!!

aemond loves it when you take care/pamper him.

it's something he struggled to admit to himself, let alone to you, but once you're past that barrier, it's one of the things he looks forward to at the end of his day.

you'll have a bath prepared for him, dismissing the maids because no one takes care of him like you do, and you'll help wash him sensually, cleaning his hair and massaging his shoulder of all the knots built up.

he loves it when you play with his hair - washing it, brushing it, stroking it, you name it.

it just makes aemond feel so loved.

yuck — what are some things they wouldn’t like, in general or in a partner?

when your courting started, one of the most important things to aemond was that you got on with his sister, heleana.

he wasn't entirely bothered if you didn't get on with his mother because he knows she can be intimidating sometimes, and he definitely didn't care when it came to aegon.

but with heleana, he needed it to happen.

for aemond, it spoke a lot about the other person. if they didn't like heleana, for whatever excuse they may come up with, there had to be something wrong with him, they had to have been a bad person somewhere inside.

definitely off-putting for him.

zzz — what are their sleep habits?

he's a light sleeper in every sense.

he feels the wind coming through the open window? he's awake. he hears a rustle from outside his doors? he's awake. he feels you move slightly against him in your sleep? he's awake.

aemond is never really fully asleep, but it does get better once you start to sleep next to him.

he's always made sure you sleep the furthest away from the door, a habit he'll never get rid of for your safety.

he likes to have you as close to him as possible, wanting to feel your skin against his own for his comfort, no matter if it's the hottest summer known to man.

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#hotd #house of the dragon #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond fluff #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #dad aemond #aemond x pregnant reader #aemond headcannons #aemond targaryen headcannons

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mixolya · 24 days ago

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ᓚᘏᗢ — see ya !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ᯓ★

pairings﹕ nagi seishiro x gn!reader

contents﹕ one shot, fluff, wc: 937, proofread

nagi seishiro was the type of person who could make anything feel effortless. his lazy smiles, his slow, deliberate movements, the way he could win a match or beat a game without breaking a sweat - it all came naturally to him. and somehow, so did your friendship.

he wasn’t supposed to be your type, if you even had one. but somewhere between late-night gaming sessions and quiet walks home, you’d fallen for him.

hard.

the problem was, nagi didn’t get it.

“hey,” he said one day, leaning over your desk with that continuous bored expression. his white hair fell into his eyes, and your heart did its usual annoying flip. “you free later? wanna come over?”

you sighed, pretending to focus on your notebook. “what's the plan?”

“dunno. just thought it’d be nice.”

you glanced up at him, your chest tightening at the casualness of his tone. he always said things like that, as if they didn’t carry the weight you attached to them.

“sure,” you mumbled, trying to sound unaffected.

“cool.” he reached out and flicked your forehead lightly before walking off.

being at nagi's place was second nature to you by now. his room was your room, his snacks your snacks. and yet, there was always an underlying tension in the air, at least for you.

he flopped onto his bed, grabbing his phone as you sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through a random playlist.

“hey, play that one,” he said, pointing lazily at c u girl by steve lacy.

you rolled your eyes but hit play. the dreamy guitar riff filled the room, and nagi let out a contented hum, his eyes closing as the music washed over him.

“good song,” he murmured.

“yeah,” you said softly, watching him.

the lyrics felt too close to home, too raw. “i wanna see you girl, i wanna please you girl…”

you bit your lip and looked away, trying to ignore the way your chest ached.

with, the lines of friendship had always been blurry. he held your hand sometimes, but only when he was bored. he's rest his head on your shoulder during long train rides, but he’d never call it anything more than convenience.

and then there were the late-night texts.

sei <3: r u awake?

you: cant sleep

sei <3: can i come ovr?

you always said yes.

one night, after a marathon gaming session, you ended up lying next to him on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“hey,” he said suddenly, his voice soft.

“yeah?”

“why do you put up with me?”

the question caught you off guard. you turned your head to look at him.

“what do you mean?”

“'m not easy to deal with.”

you frowned. “that's not true.”

he hummed in response, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

“sometimes i think about it,” he admitted after a pause. “why you’re always here. why it feels weird when you’re not.”

your breath hitched.

“what do you mean by weird?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

he turned his head to face you, his white hair messy against the pillow. his gaze was steady yet hard to read, and for a moment, you thought he might finally understand.

but then he sighed and looked away. “never mind. forget i said anything.”

it all came to a head one rainy afternoon.

you were walking home together, sharing an umbrella that was barely big enough for one person. nagi's shoulder pressed against yours, his presence warm despite the chill in the air.

“why don’t you ever date anyone?” he asked suddenly, his tone as casual as if he were asking about the weather.

your steps faltered, but you forced yourself to keep walking. “what's that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “you're cool. people like you.”

you laughed bitterly. “what, like you do?”

he stopped walking, his eyes narrowing slightly. “what's that supposed to mean?”

you turned to face him, your heart pounding. “sei, we do things best friends don’t do. you know that, right? you hold my hand, you visit me midnight, you-”

“what's wrong with that?” he interrupted, his voice calm but edged with confusion.

“everything,” you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “because i'm in love with you, and you don’t even realize it!”

the rain fell harder, soaking through your jacket as the words hung in the air. nagi stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“i…” he trailed off, his mouth opening and closing like he was searching for the right words.

“forget it,” you muttered, stepping out from under the umbrella. “just forget i said anything.”

“wait,” he called, grabbing your wrist.

you turned to look at him, your eyes stinging; not from the rain, but from the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

“'m not good at this stuff,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “but i think about you all the time. i just didn’t know what it meant.”

your breath hitched. “sei…”

he looked away, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly. “i don’t wanna lose you. i don’t know how to do this, but i want to try. if you’ll let me.”

for a moment, all you could hear was the rain. then, slowly, you nodded.

“okay,” you said softly.

a faint smile tugged at his lips, and for the first time, you saw something vulnerable in his usually aloof expression.

as he pulled you back under the umbrella, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you were finally on the same page.

#mixolya!#nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi #nagi #nagi x reader #nagi fluff #nagi imagines #nagi seishiro imagines #nagi seishiro fluff #seishiro nagi fluff #seishiro nagi imagines #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #bllk fluff #bluelock

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ericscroptop · 22 days ago

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Make You Rock-Hard

✧ pairing: rockstar! sunwoo x fem! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), mentions of alcohol and drinking, smut, tipsy/intoxicated sex, reader tries to play hard to get and stand up for herself but fails miserably, situationship? unprotected sex (pls wrap it yall…), mirror sex, dirty talk, sunwoo’s hitting it from the back, fingering, praising, pet names, cursing, kissing, marking, flirty sunwoo, hints of jealousy from reader, brief mention of him being a manwhore, some angst

✦ word count: 7.1k words

✧ synopsis: you should’ve known pursing a relationship with a rising rockstar wouldn’t be easy. nonetheless, you can’t stray away.

✦ note: you can view sunwoo in this as a master manipulator/sleeze or a genuinely clueless, but ultimate simp for you— it’s up to the reader’s interpretation ;)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚

The raw, bitter taste of the liquid you just downed burns your throat, face grimacing slightly as a result.

Even more so when you don’t have a chaser, or even a lime on standby to counteract the strong taste.

But it’s honestly fitting. On the inside, you’re feeling sour. Pissed that you’ve found yourself here at this night club.

It was jam-packed, filled to the brim with people. They roamed freely around the room with laughter despite the overstimulation from the music booming and having to push past the crowd huddled together like sardines in a can.

Mostly everyone were either already, or on the verge of being wasted from sipping on alcoholic beverages, and/or doing unspeakable substances in the crappy restrooms. You also can’t forget about the stench of weed that clung onto the attire of some. And the clouds in the air every minute or so when people took hits of their flavored vapes despite them being banned in this joint.

That was the typical scene for a place like this, so you shouldn’t be annoyed. If anything, you should be blending into the environment like the rest. But that’s not particularly what’s grinding your gears.

No, what’s irritating you is the fact that you’ve yet again ended up here solely for one man:

Kim Sunwoo.

He’s the reason why you’ve been spiraling almost every day from thinking about him. The reason why you can’t bother to even think about accepting the advances of someone else trying to hit on you, or even consider the thought of being physically involved with another body. Sunwoo is the reason why you keep coming back here.

You first met him months back. During that time, he had just started getting small gigs at local bars and clubs for his band, Crimson Longing, or CL for short.

You liked to go out every now and again for some drinks with your friends, not really for the music, but just to get drunk while hanging out.

And during one of those fateful nights you did such, you encountered him. With his charms, he had convinced the owner to let him debut on a small stage with his other members, Changmin and Juyeon.

Although they were just starting out, their talents shown off instantaneously drew attention. Juyeon on drums, Changmin on bass, and Sunwoo front and center, serving as the lead singer, accompanied with his electric guitar.

It was difficult to not have ones eyes glued to the group. There was this fire inside of them that was exuded through their performances. The energy carried while performing was captivating.

They visibly had a passion for performing and being in the limelight. The talent was there, showing off diverse direction within their performances and music. Although their genre was mostly rock, they did present elements of hip-hop and r&b sprinkled in some of their songs.

Sweat soaked the boys’ clothes and beaded down their foreheads well after every performance. They gave 110% each and every time, their energy infectious, expanding off into the crowd.

On stage, they’d engage with the audience, communicating with the dolled-up girls through flirtatious winks, and shouting out scintillating or cheeky commentary that made the audience howl and raise the roof with noise.

Not only were they skilled on their respective instruments, but they also were easy on the eyes. Dangerously alluring with that combo of gorgeous looks and being talented musicians.

I mean, who wouldn’t be attracted to or fall for these young guys in a band? Their styling consisted of dark, edgy attire and loads of accessories. They definitely looked the part of hot rockstars.

The clothing they wore corresponded with their cunning and chiseled faces. Their appearances stood out as intimidating with seductive undertones— especially their lead singer. He seemed like a mischievous-looking fucker.

Surprisingly enough, you ended up catching his eye.

Well… it shouldn’t have been surprising considering how much of an effortless charmer he was towards the girls up front that would bat their lashes, all provocative, and go as far as to shamelessly throw their bras on stage.

Whether or not he actually collected groupies and sought out for mindless fun with starving strangers, or was just a major tease remained a mystery to you to this day. Regardless, he fed into the attention he received with ease, even if he was just playing a role to the public.

From your very first glance and initial impression of him, you figured he was a man-whore. You have an idea of what the spotlight does to people’s ego, and no guy that looks like that is bound to be very ‘boy next door’ if you will.

Even so, you were no different than any other girl that got an ounce of attention from him. After countless games of eye tag, he eventually invited you back stage.

Your curiosity got the better of you, and although you were wary of him, your conscience advised you to fuck around and find out.

He complimented you, filled your ears with lines you wanted to roll your eyes at because you bet he has used them on other girls. Though, your cheeks and core flushed from the flattery otherwise.

You strived to remain nonchalant and not seem easy to his obvious advances, but he was a sweet talker. A very good one at that. You fell victim to his charisma, letting him butter you up and eventually have a taste of you.

The confirmation on whether or not he had his fun with other girls and just anyone was never clear. Nonetheless, you let him hit every time you attended one of his gigs. His efforts to woo and beguile you worked in his favor.

One night with you simply wasn’t enough. He found himself searching for your presence in the crowds. Suddenly you inhabited a spot in his head, and the songs and music he was performing were fueled with even more passion and enthusiasm because of you.

You were a wonderful fuck to him. Constantly being tantalized by the image of you, whether you were standing right in front of him, yards away, or even in your absence.

The demeanor you possessed was intriguing. He needed you to keep coming back for more of him. He needed you to make his nights and rock your world the way your beautiful ass deserved.

There was never a proper establishment or any communication regarding what this relationship meant, or was. You simply attended the clubs to watch him perform and end the night with hot and sweaty sex as often as you could.

You bit your tongue when it came to your second guessing or feelings that weren’t sexual. And you still persisted seeking out for him, never getting enough of him.

While everyone reeked of a little too much cologne and the devil’s lettuce, you reeked of desperation.

There was practically no contact outside his gigs, so you really only saw him in the dark, stuffy, and crammed place(s) where he delivered exhilarating shows. Followed by meeting you backstage in his room to have your own private and special show, his adrenaline pumping miles a many.

But as time went on, you grew exhausted.

Exhausted from coming to see him just for sex, no matter how delicious the dynamic was during it. Exhausted that you did all this for a boy who doesn’t bother to make efforts to see you outside backstage rooms. Exhausted that Kim Sunwoo roamed your mind day and night, driving you bonkers because he was too beautiful, dreamy, talented…

But it seemed like he didn’t care for you in the outside world.

You wanted more. Of course you fell hard for him. It doesn’t help that lately Crimson Longing is getting loads of gigs out of town, in various cities far, far away. News outlets reported that they’re being granted a ticket to a record deal.

Chances of them going global were going to skyrocket. He’s too invested into his career. You’re not blaming him. He’s got a real kick for music, and deserves all the success.

It’s hurting your heart, though. And you can’t go on with this chase that led to nothing but temporary thrill and emptiness when not around him. It feels degrading.

An end needs to be put to this. How could you be an idiot, letting this drag on for as long as it has?

That’s why you’re here. Another shot gets downed by you, alcohol coursing through your veins, hopefully giving you strength to survive the night.

Everything then happens so fast: The lights dim, music from the DJ fades out and ceases, noise simmering down to where only hushed voices were heard.

Once the instruments of the anticipated group were audible, the crowd bustled in shouts and cheers that only grew thunderous when the spotlight shined on the three boys of Crimson Longing.

From that point on you sorta blacked out. You weren’t near the front, but your view of the band was still decent.

The hyped-screams drowned out in your head from how the band swooped your attention. Yes, their songs and skill were engrossing, but that damn Kim Sunwoo took your breath away.

He managed to pull you into a trance. His airy, cool-toned, raspy voice alone was enough to trigger your senses, your brain flashing memories of past-conversations and sexual encounters.

That gorgeous human being knew all of your sweet spots— where you liked to be kissed, and used just the right amount of pressure with his hands, lips, and hips. It was only natural for you to keep coming back for more when he had a masters degree in fucking. How could you not get flashbacks?

He’s the male equivalent of a siren. He lured you in thanks to all of his smashing qualities. You were left hypnotized, steered into his direction, losing all good senses that tried to advise you that maybe fucking around with a rockstar wouldn’t be good for your heart.

Especially now as you know how it feels to have him inside of you, molding into you almost perfectly and providing you orgasmic sensations that were indescribable and unmatched. You got too comfortable. That dick of his has been good to you.

But it was never enough, it never was. Irritation and anger hits you when you think about the gaps and the silence he’s left you to fill. Was it really all worth it for one good night every once in a while?

You were drowning. He inevitably seduced you. Feelings on your part started becoming too much, Kim Sunwoo drowning any other thought you could possibly have.

All over one man.

“Shittttt, the crowd’s on fire tonight! You guys are getting us rock-hard.” Sunwoo’s words into the mic steals your attention. He tantalizingly grabs his crotch, smirking with a raise of a brow. Of course, the crowd only becomes louder.

That just pissed you off even more. How could you be so dumb to rage inside in jealously for him doing his job? He had an audience to please and rile up. The assets he possessed were an advantage to him. Who wouldn’t drop their panties or bark for some attention from a young, handsome rockstar?

Typically someone in his position wouldn’t be tied down to one person. But he had that claim on you. An imaginary string ties and pulls you to him, stuck on him unless you give yourself the strength to cut it off. It’ll only bother you if you let it.

This situationship is consuming you when it didn’t feel, nor was real apart from the physical aspect.

You had to cut him off.

———————————————————————————

Their set lasted a little over an hour. Crazy how you’d stick around just for Sunwoo. But at least their music actually was good, and you may have had one or two more drinks to pass time.

As already expected, one of Crimson Longing’s staff members found you and escorted you to the back. This became a routine whenever you’d attend their local shows. You’d walk down the familiar path to Sunwoo’s dressing room, stares of other locals eyeing you with jealousy and curiosity, whispering gossip regarding your relationship with the band.

Up to a certain degree, it did make you feel special. But was it really so gratifying to be basically used and feel degraded? As well as perceived as a slut or threat by the regulars? (They would never have the balls to say it to your face, though.)

The bustle of the club continued and music muffled the closer to his room you got. The effects of the alcohol were getting to you. There’s luckily no anxiety, but your body and mind feels numb and fuzzy, coordination growing weak.

Once you arrive to his room, the staff leaves you to it. You silently thank him and don’t even bother knocking, inviting yourself in with ease.

In that room lies Sunwoo reclined in a chair, glass of what you presume to be alcohol in one hand while a rag is dabbing the back of his neck in the other.

The intrusion prompts him to look up, smirking when he sees your form.

“There’s my baby. Come here.”

It’s irritating how the cadence of his voice, the pet-name, and viewing him in the flesh for the first time in awhile strikes lightning to your core. You were weak when it came to him.

Shutting the door, you’re left separated from the outside world with him. With a serious look, you approach him closer.

He smiles and lets out a small laugh once you’re directly in front of him. Shamelessly, his eyes rake over the length of your body. A black leather jacket kept your arms covered while your slip-on mini dress of the same color exposed your legs. That paired with the stunning makeup on your gorgeous face was a sight for sore eyes.

“Look at you, all dolled-up.” he nods, man spreading and bringing his glass towards his mouth, taking a generous sip.

Your expression remained dull while he looked so smug. He’s so annoying, but clearly not enough when your gaze lowers front and center at his crotch. The leather material of his pants caging your favorite toy looks too appealing. Your eyes don’t rest there for long, but Sunwoo of course saw where your pupils followed, making you feel pathetic and predictable.

It’s sweltering in here, you think to yourself. He still appears smug, and moves his now-empty glass and sweaty rag over to the table by his side. Like the needy-flirt he is, he rubs both hands over his thighs and pats them, gesturing for you to come and sit over him.

You really wanted to stand on business, but with the alcohol ingested, it’s lowering your inhibitions. You truly did miss his touch, and craved long for his physical affection.

That smirk of his was stupid and gave you the urge to slap it right off, but it was also infectious. It had you pursing your lips to withstand letting your lip corners curl.

Like the weakling you are, there you go inching towards him. You sat your behind and weight over one of his thighs, legs draping over his other. Like clockwork, your arms hooked around his neck to ensure security.

A hand of his moves to the small of your back, while the other rests over your thigh. He looks pleased, bouncing his leg a few times, pupils blown and thirsty for your attention. His dark eyes study your face like you’re a work of art, in awe to have gotten his hands on you.

That’s one thing about Sunwoo you do treasure. His ability to make it seem like you’re the only girl worthy of his time.

“Liked the show?” he murmurs. His low voice and full lips irresistible to you, making you choke back a whimper.

The tension’s unbearable to fight; your body already betrayed you. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your lips finally end up on his.

The makeout is passionate. Sunwoo does no attempt to hide his heavy breaths just from kissing, and your fingers tangled through his damp hair, too caught up in the taste of one another after being distant.

The different liquors you each have consumed tonight are exchanged through the wet kisses. If you weren’t already intoxicated enough, you definitely were now. Your senses were being overly stirred right now. The alcohol’s left you dehydrated, but Sunwoo is reviving you again.

“Was thinking ‘bout you the whole time.” he breathes out in between the zealous lip-locking.

While multiple factors are causing your mind and body to stupefy, you do indeed process what he has said.

Hilarious.

So comical that you bitterly laugh, separating your lips from his.

Sunwoo merely hums and raises his brows in levity, assuming you laughed from how funny the alcohol’s got you feeling.

“Don’t play with my feelings, baby girl.” he teasingly whines.

Wow. How ironic!

It doesn’t click that that’s not the case until he gravitates towards your soft appendage for more, surprised when you dodge another round of kisses. Genuine confusion floods his features, and you’re avoiding eye contact now, frowning.

“What’s up?” he questions now that the mood’s changed.

Your throat feels parched, straining to vomit out all the feelings you have about this whole situationship out of you. You’ve pondered day and night for awhile now about all the things you’ve wanted to say to him face-to-face, to perhaps truly end it all. But right now, you can’t.

“You can talk to me.” he utters barely above a whisper.

You really don’t want to kill your buzz right now. He looks so sweet and actually attentive, but one sweet moment can not possibly make up for the hollowness in your heart and question marks in your mind when he’s not with you. There’s got to be more for you outside of a very passionate but quick fuck every once in awhile.

“You know… if you really missed me, you’d actually make an effort to see me outside of these four walls.” you broke your silence.

He frowns a little at that, taken aback by your confession.

“If you’re just using me for quick fucks, go ‘head and tell me now. I’m a big girl, I can handle it, superstar.” you spat out, cheeks growing hot from the harsh words, angered to have allowed a boy to get in your head this bad.

He stares at you dumbly, lips parted slightly like he’s processing what you’re saying— or trying to come up with some good excuse.

You realize you really shouldn’t have even came here or given him the time of day, so you attempt to get off him, but he just holds you tighter and pulls you back down into him.

“Let me go!” you snapped at him, but respectfully, Sunwoo wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

“Hey— hey…” he calls to you, your expression exasperated. Unable to escape his hold, you at least turn you peeved face away from his own. But of course, he reaches out to carefully cup your jaw, directing your gaze back on him.

“You’re not just a quick fuck, baby.” he breathes out.

“Look, I’m sorry that i’ve been distant and haven’t shown you proper respect and love. I’ve been so busy— but that’s no excuse. I know that.”

His eyes appear to carry sincerity, but you’re still full of annoyance, as this wasn’t going to be solved right away.

“I know we never clarified whatever the fuck this is, but I don’t think I can do this anymore. I don’t do casual. I shouldn’t have messed around with you in the first place.” your eyes grew glossy from the hot tears stinging to rain down. God, this was so embarrassing.

Sunwoo bites his lip, eyebrows slanting slightly in seeing you like this. “No— I want you. Don’t say that.” he pleads gravely.

“There’s a ton of other girls out there that are waiting to fuck you. Go shoot your shot with one of them.” you grumbled.

With that, you forcefully escape his arms, aggressively pushing off him and standing up. Unfortunately, you’re only able to get a few steps away before Sunwoo also gets up to speed in front of you.

Shock is filling your face initially when he drops his knees to the ground, now having to look down to meet his eyes. He’s dropped to this vulnerable position, demonstrating his desperation to keep you here with him. He wasn’t going to let you go so easily like that. He’s too hooked to let you walk out of his life.

“Sunwoo, get your ass up— don’t do that.” you scoffed with a frown. You didn’t want him to make this harder for yourself.

Though, seeing him get on the ground so abruptly, now looking up at you with big, glassy-looking eyes, pinched at your heart. Him in this position was a complete 180 from the confident and tough exterior he presented otherwise.

“I don’t and won’t touch anyone that isn’t you. You gotta believe me, baby girl.” he voices, feeling feeble in the moment but tone strong and laced with urgency.

There’s still doubt inside you even with his words, your throat tight and starting to gnaw on your lip to keep your sensitive ass under control.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been too caught up in my lifestyle to not do more for you. Fuck— I do care about you. Please don’t leave me— please…” his voice cracks, pleading for the life of him.

A hot tear or two manages to spill past your eye. The hurt tone in his voice and rawness of this scene is tugging at your heart, slowly cracking the icy coldness of the front you’re trying to uphold and have felt through the silence while apart.

His remorseful eyes continue to stare at you, visibly distressed and waiting for any sound from you. After a rousing performance, here he is unexpectedly on his knees, wishing that you wouldn’t walk away.

You’re not sure if he really gave a shit about you or was just this desperate for your pussy specifically, but the current sight of him like this might be enough to ultimately end the conversation of his behavior here.

You’re melting for this unforeseen vulnerability. Of course you’d not allow the radio silence and confusion you were left with to be forgotten, nor believe your feelings were not valid. But something about this side of him is making you think you should give him some grace.

Maybe you should reconsider being hasty about this. You were sorta drunk and although you weren’t sober, you’d like to think that you’re self aware and conscious of the decisions you make. You’re glad you just got some of those pent up feelings released, and now you need to do it via another outlet.

“I’m really sorry, I promise I’ll do better from—”

“I’m not going anywhere, but I will shove you if you don’t get up, boy.” you cut him off with a strict tone, leaving him wide-eyed at your words, not delaying in getting on his feet once he’s processed your threat.

He looks hopeful when he’s up, exchanging stares that carry uncertainty for what should happen next.

There is certitude that you each wanna fall into the established drill of allowing your bodies to talk through fiery sex. Especially while the liquor dispersed through your systems.

Neither of you dare say a word for a moment, until you can’t take it anymore and break that silence by stepping forward and extending an arm out to grab hold of the choker he wears, tugging at the material even if it’s too tight and yanking him towards your mouth.

He lets free a strangled gasp and whimper while he stumbles a bit as you guide him to you. You don’t waste more time further and push his plush lips against yours.

Breathlessly, he kisses you with no hesitance, devouring you with just as much urgency as you pucker with. Your hand that pulled at his leather choker snakes back and upwards into his nape, fingers mindlessly swirling and twisting his locks.

Teeth clash in between the frantic kissing, noses bumping together, breaths and hearts racing from the great need of sultry contact.

His hands dance all over your body, fumbling as he’s too caught up in chasing your lips and incapable of keeping them in one spot. They roam freely all over your silhouette and physical features, relishing every bit of you.

Actions are speaking loudly, exchanging lust for one another just through making out. Extra desperate after your confrontation and his newfound sensitive side that you’ve unlocked.

It’s almost as if you two are dehydrated. Not only from the liquor, but mostly from the absence of one another.

You bite, drink up, and swallow the taste of his mouth— tongues colliding, saliva exchanging, and teeth nibbling. At the speed and sloppy rate you’re moving, you two appear as a horny mess.

But you needed him. Caving to the pleasure and sweet, sweet attention Sunwoo could grace you with. Only he was capable of satisfying your needs and wants.

And he was just as addicted to you.

The kisses alone had you moaning, more so when his mouth began trailing away from your lips down to your neck. His lips cherishing and sucking one of your most-sensitive spots has prolonged, breathy sounds leap out of your mouth.

It’s body-shivering, those wet kisses turning your mind into static as he sucks intently until he’s left a mark that’d turn dark reddish-purple.

You didn’t even care, fingers tightening around his strands of hair and digging into his back, too consumed in the sensation, crumbling and aching for him to not let up.

That voice from earlier shouting doubts is too far away in the back of your mind. Now, all that enthralled you was those notorious moves of his, growing wet. You can’t refuse his luscious attention, softening and relaxing for him with open arms and drowning out any possible coherent thought you could have.

“There’s alot I need to make up for, but lemme do the easiest thing right now, hm?” he voices as he finishes leaving one of his marks, earning a whiny hum out of you.

So then you’re quickly pushed into a vanity, your backside facing fiery heat from his frontside. The neck kisses and fondling of your body doesn’t stop as he simultaneously with ease begins to remove all articles of clothing.

The sound of desperate breaths mingles with one another’s layers being pawed off and flung aside.

You meet one another’s eyes through the mirror once every piece of clothing has been discarded, skin on skin contact with him pressed up against your back, rock-hard cock glutted with excitement.

Both of his veiny hands settle over your breasts, balancing them and groping the flesh. You bite down gently on your lower lip, hairs on your skin raising and thighs squeezing together when his fingers roll your sensitive and undeniably tender nipples.

You softly moan, his movements natural yet stimulating, especially with how you have a clear view of the scene thanks to the mirror in front.

It has you shutting your eyes to bask in how he felt you up, but only for a split second before he suddenly tugs and pinches with a firm pressure, making you immediately open them, mewling and pouting at him through the reflection.

“Hey.” his warn comes out low but strong, sending a whirlwind-like sensation towards your core.

“Keep ‘em open for me. Wanna see those eyes when you take my cock.” he rasps, hands switching from your mounds to your hips, holding and rubbing along your sides like a trophy. He keeps his eyes on the prize that is your body, no intent to remove his sight on you, compelled that he gets to have you like this: Fully naked in all your glory, determined to fuck you like you deserve, and treasure you like he should.

“Put it in, woo. Please, baby.” you pleaded, your eyes and pussy full of ache, ravenous to be stuffed and banged by his cock.

Teasing and being a cheeky shit was one of his favorite hobbies, but he thinks he’ll have to move on quick with the foreplay, for he is also itching to fuck you.

His lips dip towards the side of your neck, licking your sensitive skin before pressing a generous kiss into the spot.

“Yes ma’am.” he affirms, simpering as he backs up just a bit to grab hold of his cock, running his fist along it to warm it up for you, evenly distributing viscous fluid that is already sitting pretty over his tip.

Normally you’d scoff followed by giving him a playful shove whenever he’d call you that, but he doesn’t allow any moment for that, slapping his dick up against your entrance.

That raises a squeal out of you, mouth gaping and body sizzling just from the outside contact of his manhood.

From that moment on, your body is on fire with lust. He drags his cock head over your folds, and then finally slides it past your slit.

“God!” you cried out from the anticipated-missed feeling. There is a mixture of the intensity from the slight pressure that came with the initial stretch and impact of your hole becoming jammed with his hard length.

“Not my name but close enough.” he titters, moving a hand to your lower tummy and patting it gently once he’s fully inside you.

Once again, you’d like to smack him for his response, but the beginning movement of his cock in-and-out past your walls knocks the wind out of you.

Your mind is blurred, not a single proper thought able to be formed when you’re becoming consumed in the feeling of your pussy so full and gorged.

Your walls greedily sucked him in, pleased with his entrance into you. Even though it’s embarrassing to admit, you were too attached to him.

Nothing beats having Sunwoo’s cock drilling you to climax, his broad frame up against you, his heavy grunts and breaths that emphasized how worked up he gets over having sex with you.

“Who’s that pretty girl, huh?” he voices breathily, nodding at the mirror, gesturing at the reflection of your figure. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, lips parted and growing close to drooling like a fool from how good he’s hitting it.

You don’t even think he was looking for an answer from you, but you should know better by now.

Suddenly he strokes into you with extra emphasis, lifting his hand from your abdomen to get a grip on your chin, making you squeal.

“Answer me, hm?” he grunts, hand still holding your face firmly. Your eyes are hazy, growing moist from how beyond turned on you are.

You look at yourself in the mirror with vulgarity, entranced especially when he slides his thumb over your lower lip, playing with the appendage by tweaking and strumming it, even going as far as to trace the outline of your bottom teeth.

“Hm?” he sounds out again, growing impatient.

“Me! it’s fucking m—me!” you moaned, eyes practically rolling back. Sunwoo was too fucking good at making sex incredible, feeling so sexy in your body and in this position.

“My good girl.” he praises lowly, letting go of your face and attaching both of his hands to your hips,

You’re growing weak, knees buckling as he knocks the sense out of you from behind. Losing your breath as he’s relentless with his pace.

You let yourself rest your elbows on the vanity for support, now bent over.

There’s no complaint from him. The change gives him a crystal clear view of your entire backside.

He grips your hips extra mean; the view of your body at this angle and the clapping of your cheeks charges the animal inside of him.

“Mine.” he growls, obsessed with the way your hot walls cling onto him during his out strokes, and the whiny, puffing noises that never cease.

There had to be something to slow down and interrupt your buzz though, as the startling noise of a phone going off joins your lewd sounds.

After a few seconds, it registers to you both that it’s coming from Sunwoo’s phone, but he refuses to acknowledge it, too immersed in chasing one another’s high.

However, you cannot ignore the pesky repetition of his ringtone that is killing the vibe and makes you anxious as it’s on-going.

“Sunwoo, just answer it. It may be important.” you sigh out with distress.

His thrusts let up and then cease, copying your sigh and then pulling his aching cock out of you.

“Fuck.” he groans, all frustrated as he jogs lightly to go pick up his disruptive device that’s sitting on a glass table— he really needs to keep it on silent.

Meanwhile, you pull yourself back up, puffing out some air, looking at your state, almost snapping out of your carnal mood.

Almost.

“What?” he bites out, clearly irritated.

You figure out quickly that it’s one of his band mates.

He moves back over to the vanity with phone up to ear, making you follow his movements through the mirror.

“I’m kinda busy, y’know?” he voices to the other end, startling you (even though you saw him coming) when he presses his front against your back.

From that point, you can’t even care or pick up on whatever the conversation may be about. Not with how Sunwoo’s still-hard cock digs against your lower back, not able to behave while on call and sliding his free hand around your front.

You attempt to give him a warning look through the mirror, but he just has a wolfish grin plastered, hand lowering until it reached your abandoned cunt.

He finds your clit while speaking to whomever. Your body quivers as he teases it by tapping it at first, then begins to use two fingers to rub at your delicate bud— all while he’s chatting it up over voice call.

If you thought this was naughty as is, Sunwoo decides to apply more pressure to his ministrations, making you lean back into one of his shoulders, growing feeble from his persistent playing while simultaneously trying to keep quiet in hopes that his band mate on the other end doesn’t hear a single smutty peep.

It only gets (yummier) worse for you when he pushes those fingers past your wet folds, holding your breath and clutching the edge of the vanity table to suppress the gasp that would follow under normal circumstances.

You wanted to curse him out so bad for being indecent and audacious enough to play with your pussy while being on the phone, incapable of keeping his hands to himself.

But your body always responded cordially to him. Your pussy dripped and squeezed for him. Your heart thumped to where you could practically hear it, and you fell into a state of bliss, palpitating and growing faint as he treated your body lavishly, making you feel wanted and most importantly: gratification.

His fingers dug into you, diligently swirling them and hitting the walls of your moist canal.

It’s so sick how he’s finger-fucking you now while on the phone, keeping conversation while he without issue entertains you both with diving his fingers into your sacred spot.

You’re growing flushed as he chuckles lightly at something that was said on the other line, winking at you through the reflection when you look at him with creased brows and a silent, wide mouth.

“Nah, man, don’t wait up on me. I already got plans; I’m bringing my girl to my place tonight.”

Those words come down on you and fill you with wonder and immense euphoria. Like a dog when they hear the rustle from a chip bag. Like a kid entering a candy store.

You tried to hide the kick you get out of hearing that he’s going to bring you to his place for the first time ever by biting down on your lip to prevent a dreamy smile or eager whimper.

You couldn’t control your body, though. Once those words were processed, your pussy throbbed and clenched his digits excitedly.

He continued sliding them in and out of you, a curse word slipping past his lips as your hot cunt swallows his fingers. Fuck, you responded so well to him.

He’s leading you closer and closer to your core snapping that it doesn’t even click to you when he ends the call until the loud thud of his phone hitting somewhere random in the room gets you to jolt.

“So, that made my baby happy? Yeah?” he teases, referring to the reaction you gave his fingers.

He smirks as he continues to drive his fingers into you, curling them with a slight but noticeable increase in speed, adding the zapping sensation of thumbing at your clit to fuck with you further.

You respond with breathy mewls, letting your noises free of constraint now that he’s got all of his attention back on you, no one else listening anymore.

The squelching of his digits swimming in and out your wetness and the way he’s tickling and brushing those sensitive spots makes it hard for you to keep your eyes open, breaths uneven as you’re unable to deal with the heaviness inside your core, relief approaching.

You know for a fact Sunwoo knows when you’re ready to cum, so it pisses you off when he decides to pull out and cease his ministrations, walls going from clenching around his fingers to nothing, already missing the feeling.

“Hmphhh! I was getting close!” you whined with your head thrown back, voice trembling, almost to the brink of tears. Your poor body and mind couldn’t take this. How could he be so annoying?

You feel like this is a game to him. He got off on seeing how worked up and fussy you’d get when he deprived or teased you until you were begging or scolding him. It showed him that you really did enjoy his touches and presence.

He tsks at you, calming you down by inserting those lathered fingers of his into your mouth, making you hum at the sudden invasion.

“I know, I know.” he coos, your eyes shining with hunger and want. You taste yourself on his fingers, purring at the act, but still aching as your cunt rages in jealousy from being abandoned.

Thankfully, he always delivers and fulfills your desires in the end. In the blink of an eye, his fingers are pulled from your mouth and he grabs his cock, shoving it back inside your warm, swollen pussy.

“Sunwoo!” you cried out as he squeezes his thick length past your folds once again, making you bend over like you were earlier.

“Yeah, baby? I’m right here.” he voices, leaning down and over your back, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder before raising back up and attaching his hands to either side of your hips.

And then resumed the physical exertion of slamming his cock into you, sliding in out of your juicy hole like there’s no tomorrow.

Moan after moan was drove out your mouth from his steady rhythm. His stroking is utterly heavenly as he hits your spongy spot over and over again, some thrusts done with extra strength than the last.

He grasps at your hips and pulls himself into you repeatedly, his own breaths rough and heavy, ascending off the hotspot that encloses his cock, both of you wet with fluids and pre cum, too thrilled out.

The penetration of his dick has your hole crammed with fullness of meaty length, all from the guy who makes you go nuts, but ultimately has your senses swooning and letting him grant you pleasure that’s intoxicating.

“You’ll cum for me, right?” Sunwoo growls, still fucking you with passion.

Your muscles spasm, everything beginning to tighten up. It’s like your nerves are on fire, and you feel this heaviness that needs to unleash.

His cock ridges slide back and forth, poking and hitting your pussy repeatedly until he makes you break, tension growing, and clenching as the peak was so close that you could practically taste it on your tongue.

“Cum, let go for me.” he rasps.

And with that, you do. Your core snaps and you melt into relief, twitching as your release pops and coats his cock, moaning breathlessly throughout the come down.

Sunwoo still pushes through his orgasm despite the way you grip his cock so fucking tight. Your orgasm and reactions has him grunting curse words, being the cherry on top to lead him to his own orgasm as well.

Your body is basically limp as he still pounds into you from behind, muscles spasming involuntarily.

His painfully-hard cock is so bloated, bullying your pussy how you both like, but you don’t know how much more your body can handle, way-past sensitive since you already came.

“Sun—Sunwoo! I can’t…” you weakly whimpered.

You know he needed to cum, and wanted him to. But god, was your pussy beat. Your eyes were tearing up from him finishing up his business.

“Yes you can, baby. Mhm— almost there.” he voices brokenly, his hips stuttering, jerking into your dripping cunt.

A couple more thrusts and he’s spurting out his cum, pulsating and growling as his sack empties out, perspiration all over his body.

He carefully drapes his body over yours on the vanity desk, loud heart beats and burnt out bodies clashing together.

His weight on top of you lowkey crushes you, but you can’t seem to care enough.

After a minute or so of just breathing, he brushes his lips over the shell of your ear, kissing your lobe before whispering lowly into it.

“I meant what I said on the phone by the way.”

Your heart that was on track to revert back to normal beats, picks up pace again at the mention of that, breaths shaky.

“Come home with me, baby girl.”

God, look at how the night’s ending; not what you had originally planned.

You thought it was finally time to leave him. Attempt at forgetting and moving on. But he found his way inside you again, and you truly believe he’d treat you better from now on, knowing what’s on the line and knowing what he has the possibility of losing.

So… you think you will go home with him.

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