#justin tuck | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sturnsdarling · 6 months ago

Text

Birthdays in Boston

A prequel to 'I don''t know how to forget you', and the full story behind the photo of matt and y/n on the fridge

vibe check: WHOLESOME VIBES, bestfriends to FWB to idiots in love Au. smut throughout (its worth being patient for it trust me), shower stuff (handjob/fingering), birthday sex, matt the much, squirting (its her bday she deserves it), daddy kink, fluffy matt and y/n moments, just all round good vibes dude

9k words

A/N: this was so much fun to write I LOVE THEM UGH. I could write a thousand stories about them honestly its just so wholesome. I know it takes a lil while to get smutty but i wanted to build tension and was honestly enjoying writing wholesome vibes lol also its literally my story so if you dont like it, kick rocks. anyways i hope you guys love his as much as i do

love and cigs, merc

"you guys are actually insane, you're not paying for a plane ticket for me to go home for my birthday" you rolled your eyes, legs tucked under you on the boys' sofa.

"why not? we'd come with you obviously" Nick said, his head leaning on your shoulder as he peered up at you.

"because it's so much money, are you crazy?" you replied.

"kid, you're being silly, we're doing it." Chris rolled his eyes, taking his phone out his pocket and pulling up flights.

"no, Chris" you launched yourself forward, attempting to grab his phone out his hand.

Chris stretched backwards, holding his phone out as far away from you as possible whilst trying to finish his purchase.

"Matt, grab her" Chris laughed, holding you back with his free hand.

You're frantically trying to get his phone from Chris' hand when Matt stands up off the sofa, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off Chris with ease. You flailed about in his arms but his grip didn't waver. He chuckled at your attempts to free yourself from his grip.

"Chris, i'm so serious, don't buy those fuckin' tickets" you near enough screamed, still trying to escape Matts arms.

You threw yourself forward, arms stretched out and matt immediately pinned them to your side. Nick was laid down on the sofa, too comfy to move from when he fell off your shoulder, belly laughing at the sight of you frantically trying to overpower Matt.

"Done." Chris said, turning his phone round to show you the confirmation page for the flights.

Your body went limp in Matts arms and he dropped you to your feet.

"you guys are the worst" you sulked, Matt brought a large hand to your hair, soothing down the tangled mess that had occurred from your altercation.

"shut up, kid, you deserve it" Matt said from behind you just before picking you up and spinning you round, "Boston birthdays!" he drew out his last word, singing it as you giggled in his arms.

"Boston birthdays!" Chris and Nick joined in from the sofa, cheesing at the sight of you, your head hung back on its hinge as a giant smile crept its way onto your faux sulk ridden features.

The plane ride back to Boston was a tiring one,

you spent basically the whole journey asleep on Matts shoulder, his blue fresh love hoodie on and a half read book open in your lap. Justin picked you all up from the airport and brought you to the boys house, the car ride through Boston was weirdly nostalgic, you hadn't been home in a couple months and the feeling of being back in your city, with all your favourite people in one place for your 21st birthday was enough to fill you with an overwhelming sense of joy.

"Can you not just feel the 'og-ness', y/n/n" Chris peered round to you in the back seat, the whole car chuckling at Chris' favourite and very made up word.

"Chris, what does that even mean" Nick laughed, looking up from his phone.

"Its just the vibe, man, this kid gets it" Chris said, referring to you, "you get it, right y/n/n?"

You let out a breathy laugh through your nose, grinning at Chris, "yes, Chris, I can feel the og-ness"

"OG-NESS" Chris screamed, hanging his head out the window like a dog.

"kid, get your head back in the car" Justin said from the drivers seat, yanking Chris in by his hoodie.

"you're actually ridiculous" Matt shook his head, stretching his arm out behind you, his hand toying with a stray piece of your soft hair.

"He just feels the vibes, Matt, don't you feel the vibes?" you turned to look at him, your tone somewhat sarcastic as you batted your eyelashes at him.

A smirk filled his features as he peered over at you, eyes flitting down to your mouth and back up to meet your gaze again, "yeah, I feel the vibes"

The tension between you both was thick, and you weren't the only ones who felt it. Justin was watching the entire interaction from the review mirror, a knowing smile forming on his face as you rolled your eyes at Matt, biting your lip slightly and tearing your eyes from his.

After a short drive,

you guys were pulling into the boys house. Justin pulled into the driveway and Mary-lou, Jimmy and your mum were all outside the front of the house, smiles plastered over their faces as you all piled out of the car.

You squealed at the sight of your mother, fumbling out the car and racing over to her. She opened her arms instantly, catching you as your threw yourself into her.

"Hi, flower" she spoke into your hair, your arms crushing around her head as you pulled her into you

"Hi, mum" you replied, "god, I missed you so much" you nestled into the hug.

The boys were getting all of your bags out the car, Chris was already in his mothers arms, wrapped round her like a baby and Nick was racing ahead, running through the front door to find Trevor.

Justin and Matt were by the boot, Matt pulled your suitcase out and put it on the floor just before Justin slammed the boot shut. They picked up the bags and began to walk up to the house.

"so, whats going on with you and y/n" Justin said, slightly under his breath to his little brother.

Matts eyes widened slightly and he shot his gaze over to Justin, "what're you talkin' about?"

"come on, kid, I saw your little interaction in the back seat" Justin scoffed

"I dunno what you're on about" Matt shrugged, trying to fight the smile forming on his face, "there's nothin' going on with us"

Justin rolled his eyes and nodded, "right, sure there isn't"

You were all piled into the living room,

All the parents on one couch, you, Matt and Chris on another and Justin and Nick tucked up with Trevor on the smallest one. You sat like that for hours, talking about everything from childhood memories to LA stories, you told the boys' parents about college, and how you had found the perfect apartment off campus that was only ten minutes from the boys' house. You loved nights like this, where everyone was all in one place, talking about nothing and everything, tucked under Matts arm and your legs spread out over Chris'.

"whats up, fuckers" Nates voice boomed from the entry way.

everyone turned to see him standing in the doorframe, no-one questioning the fact that he had let himself in the house.

"oh shit, sorry y'all, didn't see y'there" Nate said, eyes wide as his hand flew over his mouth, gesturing to the parents all laughing and shaking their head at his entrance.

"NATE!" you screamed, pushing yourself up from your place on the couch and bounding over to him.

"was' up, trouble" Nate said, catching you in a warm hug, pulling you off the ground slightly.

"dude I haven't seen you in months, how have you been?" you pulled away from the hug.

"m'good man, just hangin' out and missin' y'all" Nate nodded, you both walked over to everyone on the sofas.

"whats up, kid" Nate said, laughing as Chris jumped into his arms, both Nick and Matt joining in on the hug, all of them hanging off each other as if it had been years since they'd seen each other.

Chris finally released his grip on Nate, letting him walk over to your guys' parents and give his 'hello' hugs and dapping up Justin. Everyone returned to their prior spots, Matt slumped down onto the couch and Chris sat on the other end, you thumped yourself down on top them, laying your head on Matts lap and your legs over Chris'. Nate lifted your legs up and planted himself between the boys, placing your legs back over him and Chris.

"so, what're we doin' for your birthday, kid" Nate tapped your leg.

"honestly, I don't wanna do anything" you shook your head "I jus' wanna be here with you guys and hang out, just like this" you looked around at the room, filled with everyone you loved, a warm feeling washing over you as Matt looked down at you.

"nah, we have to do something, it's your 21st" Matt said, his brows furrowing as he stared down at you

"I've never really cared about my birthday though, you know that" you replied, slightly awed at how handsome Matt looked from your position on his lap.

"Let me and Mary-lou make a dinner, at least? we can make that pie you love" your mum said from the other sofa.

"ugh, yes, please lets do that, you two in the kitchen is an unstoppable duo and the only thing I want for my birthday" you groaned, craning your head round to look at your mum and Mary-lou

"It's decided then, we'll have a big family dinner" Jimmy said, smacking his hands down on his knees and getting up, "I'll go get the groceries now"

Once Jimmy left to get groceries, everyone disbursed.

Nick, Nate and Chris all went up stairs to play fortnight, and your mum went home after suspiciously hiding in the kitchen to plan what her and Mary-lou were going to make for your meal. Matt and Justin went on a short pokemon-go hunt up the road, saying something about a shiny and sprinting out the house. You had gone out into the garden, telling everyone you wanted to catch the sunset from the hammock that was strung up between two giant trees.

You were laying in the net, swinging slightly as you stared off into the orange sunset, colours of pink and yellow illuminated the whole sky, the view from the top of the hill the boys' house was situated on giving you a near perfect view of the Boston skyline as the sun ducked behind it.

"Hey" Matts voice softly interrupted your solace.

You turned to look at him as he walked over to you, a giant smile engulfing your features at the sight of him.

"hey" you said, staring up at him as he rocked the edge of the hammock, "d'you wanna watch the sunset with me?"

"mhm" Matt nodded, "scooch up, pretty girl" he said, clumsily getting in the hammock and pulling you into him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and rested his chin on your head, rubbing small circles over your skin as you both swayed in the warm Boston breeze.

"thankyou, for doing this" you said, turning up to face him.

"doing what?" he smiled down at you

"bringing me home, I don't realise how much I miss it until I'm back" you said, turning back to face the skyline but quickly returning your gaze to Matts soft features, the orange light making his eyes shine as he smiled down at you.

"of course, anything for our best girl" Matt ruffled your hair in his fingers.

"I know its lame but, I really do feel the og-ness" you chuckled, quoting Chris from earlier.

Matt erupted into laughter, "kids really got a way with words" he said, refereing to Chris.

You laughed in response, your giggles making Matt laugh even more as he watched you throw your head back. Your laughter subsided and you settled into each other, watching the sun go down as you swayed in the tiny hammock. For a short moment, Matt let himself forget that you weren't actually together, eyes flitting over your soft profile as you stared off into the distance, taking in the view and simply relishing in the feeling of being home. You could feel his eyes on you, and turned to face him, blinking at him like a cat.

"what?" you smiled, a red colour dusting your cheeks.

"oh, nothin' you're jus-" Matt cut himself off, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "you're jus' really pretty"

You rolled your eyes and smiled, swatting his chest slightly. He caught your hand, bringing it to his face and planting a kiss on your palm. He placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch as you shifted closer to him. He let his eyes wander to your glossy lips, and you pulled at him slightly, edging his face closer to yours. Just as your lips brushed over each others, a booming voice interrupted your moment.

"Matt, y/n/n, dinners ready" Justin said from the back door.

You both quickly drew away from each other, Matt turned to look over his shoulder at Justin and you perched up with a hand on his chest. You looked at each other and not so gracefully got out of the hammock, you walking a little ahead of Matt and brushing past Justin with a smile. Matt was just a bit behind you, eyes fixated on your figure as you sauntered through the house.

"nothin' going on my ass" Justin muttered, grabbing Matt by the shoulder as he walked past him.

Matt just laughed and shook his head, pressing his tongue into the side of his cheek and turning to look at his brother sheepishly.

"don't worry, kid, your guys' little secret is safe w'me" Justin whispered just before walking off into the kitchen.

The next morning,

everyone was at the boys' house, you ended up staying the night in Nicks room after hours of chatting about anything and everything. Your mum had showed up early hours of that morning, wanting to be there when you woke up. Everyone had crept into Nicks bedroom, all holding balloons and gifts for you as they quietly shuffled and squished up at the end of his bed. You were dead asleep, hugging Nicks pillow as you felt the bed shift slightly. Your eyes fluttered open, and you were met with everyone; your mum, Mary-lou, Jimmy, the boys and Justin all cheesing at you from the end of the bed

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY" they all shouted in unison, Chris popped a confetti popper and Matt blew air into his party blower.

You laughed, covering your face with your hands as Nick clicked the film camera, the flash of light hurting your still sleepy eyes.

Your mum came forward, leaning on the bed and giving you a tight hug, "happy birthday, my sweet"

"thanks mum" you smiled into the hug.

Your mum pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead. Everyone came forward one by one, giving you loving hugs and soft happy birthdays. The boys were last, and in perfect unison, they all jumped on top of you.

"BIRTHDAY BUNDLE" Nick screamed as a belly laugh erupted from your throat.

They all piled on top of you, squishing you beneath their weight as they laughed like little kids. You were giggling uncontrollably, nearly winded from their weight but consumed by laughter.

"I remember birthday bundles, you guys used to do that every year when you were little" Mary-lou said, chuckling to herself at the sight of her kids piled on top of you.

"Its a tradition" Chris said from beneath Matt, shifting where he was slightly to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

"you guys are insane" you chuckled as the boys got off you one by one, "thank you" you smiled, looking at the room full of everyone you loved and feeling utterly grateful for their existence.

"okay, get up and shower, we're going shopping" Nick said, dragging you out his bed.

"shopping? why?" you questioned, stretching the tiredness out of your bones

"because, dumbass, its your birthday" he said, stating the obvious

you let out a breathy laugh through your nose and shook your head, "okay" you said as everyone piled out the room.

The shower water ran down your back,

the warmth soothing your skin as you tipped your head back, letting the water run over your face and down through your hair. There was a sudden cold waft of air in the steamy room and the sensation pulled you from your blissful moment. You ran your hands over your face, getting the water out of your eyes as you fluttered them open. You were met with a grinning, naked Matt standing in front of you, before you could open your mouth to be shocked, his hand was wrapped around your mouth, his finger coming to his mouth to shush you.

"shhh, pretty girl, s'only me" he said, moving his hand from your mouth and wrapping it round the side of your jaw.

"Matt? what're yo-" your questioning was cut off by him pulling your lips to his, he kissed you feverishly, his hand snaking round to the base of your spine to pull your wet body into him.

Your hands found his face immediately, returning the kiss as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, the warmth a welcomed sensation as your tongue pressed against his.

Matt broke the kiss, leaving you aching for more as he turned you both round so he was under the warm water for a moment.

"what're you doing in here? what if someone catches us?" You whispered, hands raking down his bare chest.

"no ones gonna catch us, sweetheart, everyone's downstairs" he said, pressing you into the cold tiles and bringing your mouth to his again.

You whimpered into the kiss, the feeling of his warm, completely bare and wet skin pressed against yours quickly igniting a desperate ache in you.

"mphm" Matt grunted as you moved your hand down to palm at his painfully hard cock, "not being able to kiss you for twenty four hours has been agony" he broke the kiss before quickly crashing his lips back into yours.

You chuckled at Matts desperation as his kiss became increasingly needy at the sensation of you pumping your hand up and down his length. He was near enough fucking into your fist, thumbs pressed hard into your cheeks as his tongue sloppily moved against yours.

The heat from the water mixed with your growing arousal made you both feel slightly lightheaded. Matt trailed a hand down your torso, palming softly over your tit before snaking his hand down between your legs. He found your puffy clit and rubbed slow, soft circles over it, just before gliding his ring finger through your folds, your sticky wetness covering his finger as he moved back up your pussy, using your juices as lubricant over your clit.

You bit down on Matts lip with a whimper, your grip tightening around his cock as you involuntarily bucked your hips into Matts fingers. Matt grunted into your mouth, the sting of his lip coupled with your tight grip around his length only serving to make him more desperate. He slid his long fingers through your folds once more, slipping two digits inside you with ease as you clenched around him,, your head rolling back into the tile as he curled his fingers inside of you.

Matt broke the kiss to trail wet, hot kissed down your neck, still fucking into your closed fist, completely reeling at the sensation of your hand around him.

Matt groaned as you began to turn your wrist, rubbing your thumb up and over his leaking tip, "fuck, princess, you're gonna make me cum if you keep doin' that" he breathed onto your wet skin.

"cum all over my hand, please, Matt" you moaned, the steady pace of his fingers making your back arch off the cold tile behind you.

Matt moaned at your words, "you first, birthday girl" he said as he pulled his fingers from you, using his soaked fingers to rub blissful circles over your throbbing clit.

You couldn't help the guttural moan that left your throat and Matt chuckled, bringing the hand on your cheek to your mouth, "shh, pretty girl, you don't want them to hear us, do you?" he smiled, his pace on your clit never wavering.

You shook your head, pleading eyes pouring into Matts as he worked your clit, ducking his head back down to nip and suck on your neck, soothing every sting of his teeth with the warm flat of his tongue. You pumped his dick impossibly fast as you chased your own orgasm, rolling your hips into Matts hand as your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. Only Matt would be able to make you feel this good with such a simple act.

You whimpered into his palm, the skin of his hand muffling your cries as you came, your whole body shaking as you tried to keep yourself upright. The sight of you cumming all over his hand sent Matt over the edge and soon enough, his hips were stuttering against your hand. With his eyes clenched shut and his forehead against your shoulder, Matt released sticky, warm cum all over your fist. You continued to work his length as he slowed his pace on your clit, movements sloppy from his orgasm and the sensation of you using his cum as lube to pump him.

Matts whole body shook against yours as he let out a soft chuckle into your skin, watching you in complete awe as you brought your fingers to your mouth, licking them clean of his cum.

"you're insane" Matt smiled, shaking his head before kissing you feverishly.

You kissed him back before pulling away, shifting slightly to stand under the warm water once more. You leant down to get the shampoo from the side, squeezing it into your hand and rubbing it through your hair.

"here, birthday girl, lemme do it for you" Matt said, replacing your hands with his as he worked the foam through your hair.

Your eyes closed at the massaging touch of Matts hands against your scalp, your head relaxing into his touch as you let out low satisfied hums. Matt did your whole shower routine for you, conditioning your hair, exfoliating your skin with the rough side of the sponge before going back over the way he came with the soft side. He treated you like you were royalty and he was your servant, peppering tender kisses all over your wet skin as he bathed you, whispering sweet praises in your ears about how beautiful you looked or how soft your skin was.

Once you were clean, he stepped out the shower first, wrapping a towel around his waist before holding a hand out to you and helping you step out onto the cold tile floor. He reached for the fluffy white towel and wrapped it round you, bringing you into a tight bear hug.

"happy birthday, pretty girl" he said, placing a loving kiss into the top of your wet hair.

"Thankyou, Matty" you cheesed up and him and he cringed at the old nickname.

"don't make that face! I used to call you 'Matty' all the time when we were little" you said, looking up at him with your chin rested on his chest.

"yeah, when we were little it was cute, now it just makes me feel weird" He chuckled scrunching his face up at you.

"well, I like it, so" you drew out your 'o', smiling cheekily up at Matt.

"you can have twenty four hours of calling me Matty, only because it's your birthday, and then you can go back to calling me daddy" Matt smirked, raising his brows and brushing his lips over yours.

"i've literally never called you daddy in the history of ever" you smiled, laughing into his parted lips.

"maybe you should start" he said in a low, seductive tone, pressing a kiss on your lips.

"In your dreams, Matty" you said, kissing him back with a smile etched on your lips.

The rest of your day was spent shopping with Nick,

It was the perfect day. You and Nick went to all your favourite thrift spots in Boston, spending the whole day talking about how ‘they just don’t do it like this in LA’ and complaining about west coast prices. Nick took you to your favourite lunch restaurant, a hidden gem in your home down and you guys spent hours chatting about nothing and everything. Even though you begged him not to, he told the staff that it was your birthday and your pancakes came out with sparklers and a song. You, obviously, wanted the ground to swallow you whole as the entire restaurant sung happy birthday to you, but the look on Nicks face from behind his phone made all the embarrassment worth it.

You and Matt spent the whole day texting, as usual, and he was nothing other than loving and attentive. Every thrift find you weren’t sure of he was there to give you his opinions, every selfie you and Nick took was sent straight to him along with photos of the city that really ‘captured the og-ness’.

Little did you know, the whole time you were out shopping and sending silly photos to Matt, he was helping set up your surprise back at the boys’ house.

Everyone had come over to help out; Mary-Lou and your mum were a dream team in the kitchen, making more food than anyone would ever need as the boys put up all the decorations in the back garden. There were party hats, streamers, balloons and a giant vintage style cake with your name sprawled across it in big pink letters.

Just before the sun was starting to set, you and Nick decided to make your way home. Nick sneakily messaged the family group chat and let everyone know you were both en route, just in case they needed to add any finishing touches before you arrived.

When the uber pulled up, you were completely none the wiser.

You and Nick waded into the house, both excited to show everyone what you had got but were met with an empty home.

“where is everyone?” you said, brows furrowed as you dropped your bags to the floor

Nick pretended to be as confused as you were, hoping you couldn’t hear the music that was blaring from the back garden.

“that’s so weird” Nick said in faux confusion, “maybe they’re outside?” he said, pointing to the back door.

“maybe” you said, nodding as you began to walk towards the garden, the music slowly coming into your senses as the confusion you felt grew.

Nick pulled out his phone, walking slowly behind you as you pushed down on the back door handle, stepping out into the garden, eyes on the floor.

“SURPRISE” everyone yelled in unison, party poppers going off as the sound of party horns rattled through your skull.

Your head shot up, and you were met with the boys' entire family and your mum, all clad in party hats and standing in front of a massive banner hanging from tree to tree with "happy birthday" sprawled across it.

An intense feeling of pure joy engulfed your body. A giant smile spread across your face as tears welled in your eyes. The entire garden was filled with balloons, streamers hung from the trees and an entire table filled with food. Your 'feel good' spotify playlist was blasting from a speaker that Justin had set up, 'Home' by Good Neighbours making the grass rumble with the bass as everyone came running up to you, all engulfing you in a giant hug, leaving you squished in the middle of them.

The air was filled with laughter, everyone jumping and screaming happy birthday over and over again, spinning and pulling you back and forth into tight, loving hugs. You couldn't help but well up, feeling completely overwhelmed by all the love you felt. You never cared about your birthday, but in this moment, you knew that you had an army of people who did, who cared about your birthday, who cared about you, more than anything.

The laughter subsided and your playlist began to rifle through songs, all your favourites playing and filling the garden with an energy that could only be described as you.

"how did you guys have time to do all of this?" you cheesed, looking around the garden and wiping the small tears from your eyes.

"It was the plan all along" Matt shrugged, his eyes trained on your glowing features.

"why do you think I kept you out the house all day?" Nick asked, putting his phone in his pocket and looping his arm round your shoulder.

"this is actually insane" you shook your head in disbelief, "is this my playlist?" you said, clocking the familiar music.

"that was my idea" Chris said, grinning at you like a proud kid.

You couldn't stop smiling, you took a moment to look around at everyone, taking in the fact that you were home, and you were spending your birthday with everyone you loved.

"you guys are incredible" you said, locking eyes with Matt, who was already looking at you.

"you deserve the world, flower" you mum came up to you, wrapping a warm arm around your waist as you pulled her into you close.

You spent the rest of the evening eating, laughing and having the best time.

Everyone was dancing about, the boys were making up silly routines that made your stomach ache with laughter as you keeled over on the grass, a drink in your hand and a plate of birthday cake on the floor beside you.

Matt came forward, slightly out of breath from the intense routine that Chris had forced him to join in on and held out a hand to you, pulling you up from the ground with a smile. Within seconds, his shoulder was at your stomach and you were hanging upside down over his back. He leapt out into a full sprint around the garden, your giggles filling the air and only serving to make him run faster. He was chanting happy birthday over and over again, singing the tune with a grin spread across his face. When he reached his brothers once more, he placed you down onto the grass, catching you by the waist as you nearly stacked it from lightheadedness.

You couldn't stop your laughter, it being echoed by everyone around you.

"guys, smile!" Nick said, a few feet away from you and Matt with his camera to his eye.

You both turned to face him, Matt shifted to stand behind you slightly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing his face close to yours with bared teeth, acting as if he was going to bite your ear with a wide smile. Your hands found Matts arms, gripping onto him as you squeezed your eyes shut, baring your teeth in a cheesy grin. The camera shutter went off and Nick giggled at the two of you, running off to take more photos of everyone.

Your hands didn't leave Matt, you caressed him gently as he dropped his smile and pressed a long kiss into your hair. You pushed into his touch, finally dropping your hands from his arms and turning to face him.

"thank you, for all of this" You said, absentmindedly taking Matts hand in yours loosely.

"It wasn't all me" he smiled, linking his fingers with yours.

"no I know, but, I know it was your idea" Your eyes poured into his as he fought his smile, you were right.

"it might have been" Matt gazed down at you, fighting every inclination to kiss you.

"you're ridiculous, you know that?" You shook your head slightly, gripping his hand tighter.

A smirk formed on Matts face, "you love it" his tone shifted slightly, carrying an air of seduction.

You rolled your eyes with a smile, glancing away from Matt and locking eyes with Justin, who was grinning behind his cup and watching the two of you act as if you were the only people in the world. He shot you a knowing wink and you smiled at him, your attention finding the grass in slight embarrassment.

Once the sun had set, you all settled in the garden, curled up on the furniture

"happy birthday, my sweet" your mum pulled you into a tight hug.

"thanks mum, i'll be home after tonight, I want to spend some proper time with you before we go back to LA" you said into her hair, just before you broke the hug.

"I'd love that" she smiled, her eyes glistening just as yours do when you smile.

Once your mum had left, Mary-lou and Jimmy went to bed, and it was just you and the boys, all sitting round the fireplace jimmy had built when you guys were little.

"Nate, are you staying here tonight?" you asked from your position on the bench, legs draped over Nicks.

"yeah I think so, gonna spoon with my boyfriend" Nate said, wrapping his arm around Chris shoulder and kissing his cheek.

"cant wait" Chris giggled.

Nate and Chris went up stairs first, saying something about 'burring kids on fort'.

It was just you Nick and Matt, you spent a while talking about the day and giggling about how oblivious you were. Matt couldn't stop staring at you, the way your features were illuminated by the flames captivating him completely. A small smile crept across Nicks face when he noticed his brothers inability to look away from you.

"I'm gonna go zone out and edit the pictures from today" Nick pulled your legs from across his, ruffling your hair as he stood up, "happy birthday, queen" He grinned.

You and Matt were finally alone, and he immediately came to join you on the small sofa you were curled up on.

He pulled your legs over his, rubbing small circles across your soft skin. You shut your eyes and let your head fall back onto the arm rest, reeling in his touch after what felt like forever.

"I um, I got you something" Matt said, breaking the comfortable silence.

You pulled your head up to look at him, "you got me something?" You mirrored his words.

Matt nodded with his lip tucked between his teeth, shifting slightly to reach into his pocket. He pulled out a small box with a little blue bow on it, handing it to you with nervous hands.

You took the box from him, admiring the effort he went to with a smile and a kind tut. Before you even opened it, you were grinning from ear to ear.

"you didn't have to do this" You smiled at him, your heart pounding in your chest at the sentiment of him giving you a gift, in secret

"just shut up and open it" Matt rolled his eyes, tapping your leg.

"Okay, okay" you shuffled to sit up, undoing the bow and handing him the ribbon.

You opened the box with a creak, your mouth falling agape slightly at the sight of a small gold heart locket staring back at you. It was engraved with swirls in a shape that followed the curves of the gold. A small blue gemstone sitting happily in the centre. You couldn't help but gasp slightly, it was beautiful.

"Matt..." you said softly, eyes finding his as he grinned at you.

"open it" He cocked his head slightly.

You furrowed your brows lovingly, glancing back down to the locket before carefully opening it. Inside, was a tiny photo of you and Matt when you were kids. Little Matt was in a backwards hat, holding your face with his tiny hand, innocently kissing your cheek as you smiled at the camera.

You were in awe, it was perfect. tears welled in your eyes as you shut the box, throwing yourself forward and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. Matt giggled, hugging you back and nestling his head into your neck.

"do you like it?" He said, tucked into your hair.

"Matt..." You pulled away, "it's perfect, its beautiful, its-" you sighed, shaking your head and looking down at the box in your palm, "thank you" you said, a warm smile on your face as your eyes poured into his, flitting back and forth and watching as the fire flickered against his blue iris'

"you're welcome, angel" Matts hand found your cheek, caressing it slightly with his thumb as he pulled you into a tender, loving kiss.

Your lips slotted around his perfectly, you closed your eyes and leant into the kiss, deepening it with the brush of your tongue against Matts lip, asking for invitation.

Mat chuckled into your mouth, "easy, birthday girl, we're still in my garden remember?" He smiled, peppering a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away completely.

You and Matt spent the whole night talking,

wrapped up in each other and the warm embrace of the fire. The stars hung above your heads, illuminating your conversation as you laughed and joked, talking about everything from childhood memories to your favourite 'date nights'. On nights like this, it was easy to forget that you weren't together. Everything with Matt was so easy, you knew him better than you knew yourself and vice versa. You just worked, and, you hadn't realised in that moment, and wouldn't for a while but, you were falling in love with him.

When the fire finally died, you both retreated inside,

walking hand in hand through the house, trying to be as quiet as possible in attempts to not wake anyone up.

You crept up the stairs, following Matt with your hand loosely locked in his. You reached his bedroom door and paused just outside, Matt turned to face you, his hands finding your waist as yours found his shoulders.

"you know, I have another present for you" He whispered, moving his lips impossibly close to yours.

"really?" you whispered into his nearly open mouth.

"mhm" Matt nodded, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue instantly pressing against yours.

You kissed him back with matching desperation, wrapping your arms round his shoulders as he opened the door with one hand, leading you both inside to his dimly lit childhood bedroom.

Neither of you broke the kiss, only deepened it once you were safely hidden in the confides of his room. Matts fingers looped around the hem of your top, silently asking for permission to take it off as you broke the kiss. He slipped your top over your head and pulled his own off before quickly capturing your lips in a wet kiss once more. You whined at the sensation of his warm skin pressed against yours, falling against the bed as you straddled him.

You ground your hips against him as you bit down on his lip, growing more and more desperate for him as minutes passed. Matt groaned at the feeling on your warm, clothed pussy rubbing against his stiffening cock. He pushed you up, flipping you both over so your back was on the soft fabric of his duvet. You hit the bed with a giggle into your kiss, one Matt returned as he pulled away from your lips, trailing warm kisses across your skin, down your torso and to the hem of your jeans. Your hands found his hair, back arching into his touch as his grip on your ribs became bruising.

Matt sucked and kissed at the skin on your stomach, nipping at the flesh as he edged his hands down your torso and to the button of your jeans. He expertly pulled them open, breaking his embrace with your skin to tell you to lift your hips up. You complied, allowing him to pull your jeans down at an agonisingly slow pace. As he did, he kissed all the way down the inside of your legs, pressing his warm tongue against your skin. An uncontrollable whimper left your throat, a tingling warmth vibrating across your body at the feeling of Matts slow kisses.

You wear nearly bare for him, sprawled out on his bed, clad in a baby pink matching set he had gotten you a couple weeks earlier. Matt groaned at the sight of you, stretching like a cat and putting yourself on full display for him.

"you're so fuckin' beautiful" Matt shook his head, unable to control his wondering hands as one gripped your thigh, and the other found the soft flesh of your tit.

You smiled in response, a smile that quickly left your face as Matt leant down, capturing the soft skin of your stomach against his tongue once more. He was so gentle, taking his time as he worked his way down to wear you needed him the most. Your hands were tangled in his messy hair, pushing him against you with desperation as he kissed all round the hem of your panties, purposefully missing your throbbing clit with every wet, warm kiss.

His thumb came to your core, and your back arched instantly at the pressure of his digit against your sopping hole. He pushed the fabric against your pussy, making your juices seep through the lace. A chuckle left his lips at the sight, pride swelling in his chest over how wet you were for him.

"Matt, please" You whined, bucking your hips into his thumb, the tension making you feel lightheaded as you looked down at him with hooded eyes.

"you want it, angel?" Matt looked up at you, pressing his thumb harder against your clit as he began to rub slow circles against the lace.

You nodded with a whimper, your lip tucked between your teeth as you played with his soft, brown locks.

"okay, pretty girl" He smiled, letting you get away with the lack of verbal agreeance only because it was your birthday.

With that, he wrapped his mouth around your core. His tongue pressing against the soaking wet fabric as he slowly and passionately kissed your pussy. Your mouth opened, a moan nearly escaping your lips as you pressed a firm palm over your face, silencing any noises that tried to escape.

Matt pulled your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your warm pussy just before his mouth was back on you, lapping at your hole as it clenched around nothing. His pace was slow, but the pressure he was applying sent tingles all through your body.

He was relentless, not giving you a moment before he teased your hole with his middle finger, slipping it in with ease. Your thighs tensed around his head, locking him in. Matt didn't mind, in fact, he loved it. He groaned at the taste of you, watching as your back arched off the bed, pushing your throbbing pussy further into his mouth. He slipped a second finger into your clenching hole and began to suck gently on your clit, pumping his fingers at a faster pace than his mouth was working.

The sensation was euphoric, your whole body felt as if it was on fire as your vision began to blur. Matt curled his fingers inside of you, lapping and sucking at your clit like a man starved, relishing in the sight of you convulsing above him. You tensed and writhed, your toes curling as you involuntarily bucked your hips into his mouth. Your pussy clenched around his fingers, the sound of them pumping in and out of your soaked and sticky walls filling the air.

"you taste so good, angel" Matt spoke into your pussy before latching his lips around your clit once more, his tongue pressed flat against it as he worked your sopping hole.

All you could do was whimper in response, any sense of coherence leaving your brain as Matt brought you closer to the edge. The vibration of his soft moans against your pussy had you reeling, and with a knuckle deep curl of his fingers, your vision was white, your thighs tight around his head as a wave of blissful euphoria washed over you. You came all over Matts mouth, releasing your juices onto his fingers. He swiped his tongue through your folds, collecting your cum on his tongue with a groan as you shook above him, your grip on his hair relentless as you rode out your high on his face.

Matt kept his pace, determined to make you cum again, totally engrossed in the taste of you on his tongue. Your whole body began to tense, legs shaking as if they had their own mind as Matt pumped into you faster, sucking on your clit with feverish pressure. He near enough growled as he felt you clenching around him once more.

"Matt, Matt I think I'm gonna-" You were cut off by a sudden, guttural moan attempting to leave your throat. You tried your best to silence yourself, but the sensation that was ripping through your body was more than distracting.

You released a flood of juices all over Matts face, juices he encouraged with curling fingers and a lapping tongue. He couldn't help but smile as you squirted all over his face, shaking and convulsing on his mouth as he slowed his pace on your pussy.

you went completely limp, shivers creeping up your spine as Matt pulled his mouth from you, the cold air hitting your warm pussy once more.

"happy birthday, my pretty, pretty girl" Matt whispered, crawling up your body to capture your open mouth in a wet kiss.

The taste of yourself on his tongue sent you into a frenzy, and as if on instinct, you locked your legs around his waist, hands immediately going to the buckle of his belt, pulling his jeans open with utter desperation as you whimpered into his mouth.

Matts cock was painfully hard as you took him in your palm, a small whine leaving his lips as you pumped him, attempting to line him up with your gaping, soaked hole as he bucked into your hand. You were locked in between his arms, his body weight hovering just above you as you pressed his leaking tip between your folds, pushing it up and over your clit with needy whines.

Matt chuckled into the kiss, and waited until you brought his tip down to your hole before bucking his hips forward, sliding his length inside you with ease. You both moaned at the sensation, your head flying back to the pillow, breaking the kiss. Matt stared down at you in awe, the sight of your fucked out face making him lose all control. He bottomed out without warning, pressing his hips hard against yours.

"fuck, Matt" you whimpered into his ear, locking him into you with tight arms around his neck.

Matt groaned, pulling out of you before pushing into you once more, feeling lightheaded from the sensation of being nestled deep into your perfect, warm pussy and dipping his head down to the cook of your neck

The sting of him stretching you out was blissful, you nipped at his earlobe, "you stretch me out so fuckin' good, daddy" you whispered.

Matts attention was immediately back on you, eyes wide as he stilled inside you. You giggled slightly, looking at him with teasing eyes as he attempted to form a thought.

"say it again." he said, his tone stern but holding the air of a whimper

"make me cum all over your dick for my birthday, daddy" you said, biting your lip and giggling once more.

Matt growled, dipping his head down to kiss you with feverish passion as he began to rut into you, hard and fast. You moaned into his mouth, legs tight around his hips as he fucked you at a relentless pace. One hand was pressing bruises into your waist, holding you still as the other held your jaw, leading the kiss with gentle dominance as your walls clenched around him, milking him.

His dick pressed against your g-spot over and over again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrust into you, the whole bed shifting under you both. His grip on your jaw was soft, but the way he was kissing you was completely desperate, heavy breathes leaving his mouth every time he caught a sliver of air. Matt was completely lost in you, fucking you with passion you'd never felt before. The sensation of his throbbing cock sliding in and out of your gummy walls was mind boggling, and the pressure of his warm skin against yours had you reeling.

Matts hand moved from your waist down to your clit, and he began to work fast circles over the throbbing bud, looking down and watching as your pussy sucked him in.

"oh my god" you whimpered, eyes clenching shut.

"cum for me, princess, cum all over my dick, please" Matt was begging, actually begging to make you cum again.

He watched as all sense left your brain, your orgasm fast approaching as he kept his pace, fucking you with relentless desperation and rubbing fast circles against your clit, using your juices as lubrication for his movements.

"fuck, you're so beautiful like this, so fuckin' beautiful, taking me so well, such a pretty girl" Matts rambles were coming out in moans, watching as you approached your climax.

His words sent you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you as you came all over his dick. The tight clench of your pussy around him sent him spiralling, and with a stutter of his hips and a hard, whimpering thrust, Matt came inside you, matching your breathy moans as his forehead rested against yours.

Matt stilled inside you completely, breathing heavily above you with closed eyes. You giggled, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips and he chuckled in response.

"best birthday sex, ever" you whispered with a smile.

Matt chuckled once more, opening his eyes to look at you cheesing up at him. He shook his head with a smirk and kissed you as he pulled out, his spent cock limp against his leg. He fell down onto you instantly, and your hands found his hair.

"we should do that every year" Matt muttered into your skin, a wave of tiredness washing over him as your gentle caresses on his head soothed his racing heart.

You didn't reply, only smiled to yourself at the sentiment, not quite realising the weight of Matts request due to your fucked out senses.

Within minutes, you and Matt were asleep, tangled up in one another's warm, naked bodies.

The next morning,

you and the boys were sitting around the breakfast table, eating waffles and drinking fresh orange juice. No one had noticed you sneak out of Matt's room in the early hours of that morning, and luckily when you snuck into nicks room to pretend to be asleep, he was dead asleep.

"yesterday was so fun, guys, I love it when we're all together" Chris said, already getting sentimental at ten in the morning.

"it was great, I really felt the OG-ness" You said, cocking a brow at Chris. Nick and Matt both groaned at you encouraging Chris' antics.

"YES!" Chris shouted, flinging his bacon out his hand, "the OG-ness, bro, I'm tellin' you, it's a thing" he continued, patting Nate on the chest.

Nate chuckled, "okay, kid"

Everyone laughed at Chris' outburst, the table filled with rolling eyes and warm hearts, because deep down, you all knew he was right. A comfortable silence filled the kitchen as you all continued to eat your breakfast, simply enjoying each others company.

"so" Nick said, taking a bite of bacon, "what did you guys get up to after we all went to sleep?" he asked, innocently.

You and Matt shared a quick look, both fighting the smiles forming on your face. You shuffled in your seat and shook your head slightly, "nothin' really, we just stayed up all night talking".

"yeah, just sat down here and hung out, pretty much" Matt added, a small smirk crawling its way across his face.

You glanced at him, trying to look as normal as possible. Nick watched the entire interaction with a look of bafflement on his face, eyes flitting between the both of you shifting in your skin on either side of the table.

"okay..." he drew out his word, taking a bite of his food with suspicion etched across his features.

The nearly awkward tension was cut off by Justin coming into the kitchen, he walked behind you and placed a firm hand on your shoulder with a squeeze, "how was the rest of your birthday evening, y/n/n" he asked, his accusatory tone going over everyones heads.

"it was good, thanks J" you looked up at him from your perched position.

"Good" he nodded with a smirk, before walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a mug.

Nick watched with furrowed brows, his eyes trained on you as you blushed. The puzzle pieces began to slot together in his mind, you looked at him, your face completely straight but somehow confirming his suspicions.

"OH MY GOD" Nick screamed, everyone in the room being totally startled by his volume.

"what Nick? what?" Chris jumped out his skin, looking around the kitchen for an axe murderer.

Nick locked eyes with you once more and your eyes widened slightly, unbeknownst to you. Matts focus was trained on you, and Nick looked to Matt, who suddenly looked very tense.

"no, nothing, nothing, I thought um- I thought I saw a bug" Nick stuttered his way through his lie.

A smile formed on your lips, as you returned your attention to your food. Matts shoulders relaxed, and he glanced at Nick, shooting him a grateful look. Nick was onto you both, but you knew your secret was safe with him, and realistically, he'd probably forget about it in a week. Of course he didn't, he kept it to himself for months, until the moment came where he needed to be a big brother and save the day, but thats a story for another time.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour

868 notes · View notes

chrrific · 13 days ago

Text

YOU LOOK PERFECT TONIGHT ✶ may i have this dance, gorgeous?

&& 엔하이픈희승 bf!heeseung x fem!rea wc k ─── fluff l’avis kissing est.relationship soft as hell

MiCK ✉️ : this is for my pretty girl dani aka heesung’s girl ( @flwrstqr ) !! happy late birthday, my love, and stay happy & healthy for the rest of your year >< I hope you had a wonderful day, and enjoy reading my little drabble that i made especially for you on your special day ! xoxo, mick 🎀

enhypen shelf ✿ bonedo shelf 𔓘 daily click

dancing in the middle of the living room with your boyfriend was not how you expected baking cookies would turn out to be like.

as you two sat, bored from waiting for the cookies to bake, heeseung had an idea; dancing.

so, that’s how you and him ended up laughing like maniacs as you pranced around the room, each song holding a special meaning to both of you.

as the upbeat notes of ‘stay’ by justin bieber faded, the genre shifted, the song much slower this time. the soft melody of ed sheeran’s ‘perfect’ flooded the room, as a soft smile took over heeseung’s features.

gently, he took your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. then, as if too scared to break the moment, he spoke up, voice barely over a whisper. “may i have this dance, gorgeous?”

without apprehension, you nodded, letting him wrap his hands around your waist and the small of your back, with your hands instinctively going to join around his neck.

slowly, he swayed your both bodies side-to-side, keeping his eyes on yours. the love, affection, and underlying emotion in his eyes made your chest feel warm, full.

heeseung was the only one who could make you feel like this. like home.

and to him, you were all his. all he needed to live was you, and he showed it through the way he acted with you. gentle, caring, always doing the smallest of things for you.

need to tie your shoelaces? he’s already kneeled down doing them up for you. want to grab a jar from a high shelf? heeseung had grabbed it for you as soon as he saw you struggling.

it was these little things that made you love him more than you ever knew you could love anyone, and sometimes, it scares you.

meanwhile, heeseung’s mind was going into overdrive at how gorgeous you looked right now. with your hair tied up in a messy bun, and your body covered in leggings and one of his hoodies, he felt you were the most beautiful girls he’d ever dated or even met — in and out.

“you’re so pretty..” he whispered, his touch nearing reverent as he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. a small smile tugged your lips, a soft chuckle of disbelief leaving them. “i’m wearing a hoodie and leggings, and my hair’s all messy,”

“still.” your eyes locked, and he leaned in until his lips were just barely ghosting yours. quietly, he sang along to the lyrics of the song.

“darling, you look perfect tonight..”

then, ever so gently, he removed one of his hands from your waist, using it to cradle your cheek. he finally pressed his lips to yours, capturing them in an affectionate kiss.

and that was when you realised; home was wherever heeseung was.

💌 @strvvy-anniee @liwinly @eunandonly @hannamoon143 @irasvr @ateez-atiny380 @amoressb @ikeulove @gudkc @mrsjohnnysuh @sol3chu @sol3chu @puma-riki @xeee334 @suhiiiies-blog @haerinheartss @layzfy @manaah02 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @deluluscenarios @hazelira @llovelili @fleuressnie @fleuryns

thank you for reading ! likes + reblogs & feebacks are appreciated ><

#( 𝑚a ) 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐢𝐄 . a work of 𝑎𝑟𝑡 #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #Heeseung Lee #enhypen heeseung #enha heeseung #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung enhypen #enhypen imagines #heeseung imagines #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #chrryworks:h

269 notes · View notes

kingkat12 · 13 days ago

Text

the truth about Roman Godfrey (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: piv sex, fingering, face-sitting, dub-con, semi-public sex, angst, edging, teasing, creampie, cum-play, unprotected sex, dry-humping, Roman is a manipulative ass, it gets very very dubious ouf

summary: it's been two weeks since the night you parted. it's been torture, it's been hell, it's been two weeks in a perpetual state of agony-- but to make matters worse, the upir you once called your boyfriend has no intension of making your time apart any easier.

word count: 15,851 (making up for the angst oop)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14

a/n: hopefully I won't have to have the ambulance on standby this time like I did for the last chapter;) JKJK this was SO fun to write, MWAH TO Y'ALL, I LOVE YOU!! enjoy part 1 of the last chapter<3

Roman once complained that I made him feel. He used to go on about it endlessly, that being conscious was a curse, that feeling anything at all was a fate worse than eternal damnation, and honestly? I had never completely understood any of it, as I had been preoccupied with feeling happy whenever he would give me these speeches in the middle of the night, with his arm wrapped around me as he let me rest my head on his bare chest-- he smelled like cigarettes. Cigarettes and sex. That was one of his favorite bands, too... not that he would ever admit to it, of course.

Roman Godfrey hated the entirety of Britney Spears' catalog. Roman Godfrey loved vintage car magazines.

Roman Godfrey hated people who insisted on riding their bicycles during traffic rush hour.

Roman Godfrey loved me.

What the fuck was I supposed to do with all of this knowledge stored in my head? What use did it have now? Two weeks had passed since we broke up, but I had only needed an hour or two to finally understand what Roman was getting at all those times he complained about feelings-- it truly felt like a fate worse than death.

This whole situation had put me in what felt like a comatose state. I had no idea how I was still pulling my ass out of bed to go to school, yet life went on, whether I wanted it to or not.

The hallway buzzed with life around me, but everything felt distant, muffled, like cotton stuffed between my ears. Letha's voice drifted through the haze, bright and animated, as she rattled off about something I should've been listening to. Really, after all she had done for me, I owed her that much... right? Her hands fluttered as she spoke, her freshly manicured nails catching the light in small glimmers.

I nodded at all the right moments, but I wasn't really there.

I never was, anymore.

Instead, my eyes stayed fixed ahead, locked on the far end of the hallway with a look of longing smeared on my face-- in moments like these, I couldn't control it.

Roman sat on one of the low windowsills, half-reclined, legs spread wide. A cigarette dangled lazily between his fingers, unlit, seeing as we were inside. His head was tipped back against the wall, watching the ceiling like it might split open. Maybe he hoped it would? The collar of his shirt was rumpled, the buttons uneven, like he'd gotten dressed in the dark and hadn't bothered to fix it. A girl, probably a cheerleader, stood next to him, leaning in close, too close-- her hair spilled over his shoulder as she whispered something into his ear.

Roman didn't flinch. He just smirked, slow and lazy, before flicking his cigarette between his fingers, keeping himself occupied. The cheerleader giggled (what would this be, his twelfth?) and tucked her hair behind her ear, her fingertips ghosting over his knee.

And just as I thought I would buckle over and throw up right in the hallway, I felt Letha's fingers tighten on my arm, pulling me back-- she had saved me from walking straight into Justin Montgomery, the leader of the track team; "Jeez," Letha mumbled, sending Justin a nasty look as she put her hand on my shoulder. "These brutes don't know how to watch where they're going."

"It's fine," I squeaked-- my intrusive thoughts were telling me to shut my brain down before she gained powers to read my mind and found out why I hadn't watched where I was going. That would've been severely incriminating, after all the times I had assured her I was over Roman by now.

... Liar.

Letha smiled; too sweet, too patient. "Anyway, what do you think?"

I blinked. "About...?"

It didn't take her long to piece together that I hadn't been listening. Letha sighed; "Don't be bothered by him," she tried, motioning towards Roman at the end of the hall with a nod. "He's been doing this since the day you broke up. You know it's a show."

"I know,"

"Then why do you care?"

"I... don't,"

Letha sighed again, patting my arm. "Anyway, so, I was talking about the party at Jasmine's next Friday. You'll come with me, won't you? We always used to have fun, you and I!"

Jasmine? I hadn't heard that name in a while. "I thought she was dead," I mumbled.

Letha scoffed; "Girl, she's not dead! She was just concussed for a while, but it makes sense that you didn't catch any of this... You were still with Roman when she came back to school, and you could barely focus on anything except him,"

My stomach turned. Nothing had changed, then.

I couldn't help but sneak another peek; Roman was laughing now-- low, breathless. The girl was leaning in even closer now, fingers brushing up his thigh. His eyes stayed pinned to her face, but for the briefest second, I saw it; the flicker, the glance.

He knew I was watching.

He wanted me to.

Fucker.

"Please?" Letha's voice cut through the fog again, pressing right against my ear. Her breath was warm against my neck, making me flinch. "I'm desperate to go, even though she turned out to be a fucking hag... she always knew how to throw a good party, though, and I think it will be fun!"

I swallowed hard, eyes still glued to Roman. He leaned back further against the wall, stretching out like a cat in the sun. His smirk grew wider, hungrier. He whispered something back to the girl, just loud enough that I could hear the murmur of his voice, but not the words.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest; "Fine," I breathed. "I'll be distracted there, at least..."

Letha's smile widened like I had passed some kind of test. She looped her arm through mine, warm and possessive. "I knew you'd come around! I'm so glad we're friends again, honestly,"

"Me too," I mumbled, looking away.

I didn't want to go to some party, especially not Jasmine's after what she had done to me. However, I felt like I owed Letha my attendance-- she had helped me with the whole Roman-is-a-upir situation, after all.

It was odd to be friends with her again. It was odd to be acting like this, like we had forgiven each other. It was like I had been catapulted back three or four months when I was running around secretly crushing on Roman-- I had stepped back to square one.

Something felt wrong about everything that was going on.

Everything was wrong.

The cheerleader flirting with Roman right now had no idea who she was currently feeling up. She had absolutely no idea at all, not the faintest clue whatsoever. It was so, so wrong, on all levels, yet there he sat, smug off his ass about the fact that he could flirt with every living thing to gain some leverage in our breakup. I knew him well enough to know he saw this as yet another competition he could win.

Roman Godfrey hated talking about his family. Roman Godfrey loved rambling about space.

Roman Godfrey hated losing.

Roman Godfrey loved me.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... But first and foremost, I think Roman Godfrey hated losing me.

It became obvious with every day that passed-- that's why he surrounded himself with all these girls.

Roman stood by the vending machine in the cafeteria the next day, leaning against the wall with one shoulder. He was halfway turned away, letting some girl I barely recognized twirl a strand of her hair around her finger while she giggled at whatever he was saying. His smirk was lazy, his eyes hooded like he was barely paying attention, like none of it really mattered to him either.

Except when my gaze locked onto him.

Roman immediately looked up-- he had been keeping an eye on me, and he was giving it away too easy. Way too easy. It was only for a second, a flicker of green cutting through the noise, slicing right into me. My chest got tight as my breath caught on the edges of his stare.

But then, as always, his eyes dropped, flicking away like I wasn't even there, like I was nothing.

For two weeks straight, he had done this almost every day. Roman had conveniently placed himself in my eyesight, and for two weeks, I had let it get to me. I had let it squeeze all the blood out of my heart, let it keep me up at night, and I had let it drive me mad.

And... today was no different.

I tried to concentrate on my food. Tried to move the broccoli around on my tray, twirling my fork between my fingers in order to pass time while I waited for Letha to come and join me. My whole body burned with the knowledge of what he was and what he could do-- but the more I thought about what he could possibly do with his upir powers, the more I thought about what he could also do with his fingers.

If I closed my eyes, I could see it, feel it, hear it.

Roman's voice would get low, dripping with a dangerous mix of seduction and patronizing teasing as his fingers curled inside me; "Someone's getting worked up, hm?"

"Fuck-- Fuck off," I would squirm in his lap, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck as he fingered me. He used to enjoy getting me off like this when he knew I'd had a bad day, he used to get the biggest fucking rush.

Because he liked me, Roman would go slow. Because he adored me, he'd kiss my cheek and allow me to grind up against the heel of his palm. Because he loved me, he'd pull me away from his neck with his free hand and kiss me. Over and over, he'd drag his tongue across my bottom lip with teasing licks, listening to my breath hitching.

Over and over.

"What, you want me to go?" Roman purred, pumping his fingers into me deeper while he kept a steady rhythm. "You want me to leave you like this, all pretty and needy?"

I could only whimper; "Don't--"

"Don't what?"

"Don't leave-- A-Ah--"

God, how I loved him. It was impossible not to.

Sex with Roman had turned into something I never thought it would-- it became a form of saying all the things we couldn't say. Making each other feel good, every tug of the others' hair, every kiss, every stolen whimper or moan, was just our way of saying I love you, I love you, I love you. I knew that, now.

"Aw, that's sweet," Roman's green eyes had shimmered so, so bright that day. "I would never leave you."

I snorted at the memory, and it brought me back to present time. I realized I had crossed my legs, clenching and unclenching to relieve the heat building between my thighs. Fuck. Feeling my cheeks burn with arousal and embarrassment, I glanced back at Roman, but he wasn't looking anymore. He was leaning in closer to the girl now, saying something low against the shell of her ear. My stomach clenched. He didn't even like girls like that... or had he lied?

Roman was doing this on purpose. I tried to tell myself that over and over.

He wanted me to hurt, just like I had hurt him by turning him away.

And in my mind, Letha's words echoed; "I told you," The more I thought about her warnings, the more her perfume flooded my nose. "He's not the same anymore. You know who he is underneath everything! You just didn't want to see it before... but remember that I'm here for you through all of this. I'm your best friend, am I not?"

I swallowed hard, gluing my eyes to the floor. I couldn't look at Roman anymore; I had already seen too much. I had seen what he could become, what he was, when he nearly choked and beat Daniel half to death at prom. The hunger, the darkness-- everything Letha had whispered about in hushed warnings when no one else could hear. I had read about it in that stupid book, and traced my fingers over the pages until they'd crumpled under my touch, but none of that was what haunted me.

It was the look in his eyes the night he left.

The broken, wrecked thing hiding beneath all that anger.

Maybe that was the worst part... That even now, with Letha's voice in my ear and his green eyes haunting my every moment, I still missed him. I still loved him. I was afraid I would do so forever, just as I had promised him.

It was time to fight it.

I stood up from the table, harshly kicking away my chair-- I saw Roman react in the corner of my eye, watching me as I stormed out. His eyes rounded out as he snapped out of his act and stepped away from the girl.

It's on.

Roman Godfrey hated spinach. Roman Godfrey loved the smell of diesel leaking from his red jag.

Roman Godfrey hated old people-- he always said they were gross.

Roman Godfrey loved me.

And I needed to stop loving him, stat.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had hoped that my thought-through schemes were a thing of my past. They had led me down several bad roads before, but it seemed I hadn't learned anything at all; because now, I was hatching out my new masterplan.

How to fall out of love with a upir; the ultimate guide.

... That would certainly be more entertaining than the other book about upirs that I knew way too well.

Anyway, I started with the small things. I finally decided that I would change his name in my contacts from Romy Schneider to simply Roman. There was no need to sit around and wallow in the memory of old nicknames, right?

I decided to do this at school, when I was walking to my new class. It didn't feel so ceremonial, then. I made my way up a narrow staircase packed with students squeezing past one another, the air thick with stale heat, and I kept my head down as I removed the nickname whilst trying to disappear into the stream of bodies.

And it was right at this moment that my first efforts of falling out of love fell apart.

It was almost ironic that the second I finished my job and glanced up, I saw him halfway down the stairs, moving in the opposite direction.

Roman.

My heart slammed into my ribs, breath catching painfully in my throat. He was talking to Peter, the two of them tucked close together in the slow-moving crowd. Peter murmured something low, barely audible over the noise, and Roman's lips curved into a smirk-- the kind that always made my stomach flip, once upon a time.

I shouldn't have been looking. I knew that, but I couldn't help it. My eyes traced the line of his throat, the sharp cut of his jaw. He was different now-- colder. His hair fell messily into his face, the shadows under his eyes carving deep into his pale skin. Still beautiful. Still Roman.

And then, like he felt me watching-- his gaze flicked up.

Fuck.

Within one aching second, our eyes locked.

I froze. Everything around me fell away, the rush of voices fading into muffled static. I could feel the burn of his stare pressing into me, pinning me where I stood.

Even better, was the moment I caught Roman's breath visibly catching. Was he maybe finally feeling guilty too?

It made something twist deep inside me, something small and cruel and hungry. Proof that I could still make him feel something-- that maybe I wasn't the only one unraveling under the weight of all this silence.

He recovered quickly, masking the flicker of vulnerability by keeping the same slow pace down the stairs. Peter was still talking, oblivious, but Roman's eyes stayed on me; he didn't look away this time, and neither did I.

I don't know how long we stared at each other. A second, maybe two, or a fucking eternity for all I know, before someone brushed past me, nudging my shoulder hard enough to break the spell. I clutched my phone tighter before I started putting it away into my pocket, forcing my feet to keep moving.

I thought I had gotten away, I really did, but when I glanced back over my shoulder, Roman was... turning?

And then he called my name.

It sounded more like a reflex than anything thought through, torn from him without permission. His voice cut through the crowd, like a signal made for my ears only.

I should've kept walking. I should've pretended not to hear him, but some stupid, aching part of me stopped and turned around.

That was all the invitation Roman needed. He had stopped in the middle of the stairs, looking back at me with those piercing green eyes I was sure I'd never forget-- I would never forget the night they were filled with tears either, as he begged me on his knees not to let him go. My heart ached as I dared to glance a look at Peter who stood by his side, clad with an awkward smile. Poor guy, caught in the middle of this.

"Hey," Roman tried, letting out a shaky exhale.

I couldn't breathe. I really, really couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. Roman could've easily mesmerized me to stay in my place and not move, but as I wiggled my fingers to check for any unusual sensations; nothing. I was standing here of my own free will, and that was somehow worse.

No, actually-- the worst part was when Roman started reaching for me, and his sleeves gathered beneath his wrists, unveiling the two hair ties I had given him months ago. He was still wearing them. He was still wearing them.

I was so distracted that I had let Roman's fingers catch against my wrist, barely a touch, barely there at all, but it was enough to send a shiver racing up my arm.

"Can we?--"

Talk?

No, no, no!

I yanked my hand back like I'd been burned and let out a high-pitched squeak of terror. My mind kept screaming at me that Letha had warned me he was dangerous, that he was a upir, that I shouldn't have ever let him come anywhere near me in the first place-- Roman's eyes widened as the crowd around us suddenly stopped to stare.

Horrified, I shoved my way through the masses of people, heart hammering in my chest. My whole body was shaking, nausea pooling in the back of my throat. I could still feel the ghost of his fingers on my skin, still smell the cigarette smoke clinging to his clothes. I couldn't believe he was still wearing my hair ties, even after flirting with all those girls to get my attention.

He didn't follow me. He couldn't, not with Peter and everyone else right there, watching.

I heard Peter's voice cut in; "Let's go, man,"

Roman didn't answer. I didn't dare look back, but I could feel it; the weight of him standing there, anchored to the spot like he'd been punched in the stomach.

"Roman..." Peter tried again, quieter this time. "Come on, people are looking."

A pause. Then, the faint scrape of shoes against linoleum filled the hall as they started moving again.

I kept walking until the burn in my throat turned into something sharper, something wet. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, trying to steady my breath.

I had a masterplan. I had steps to follow, I couldn't get distracted by an incident like this!

... Even if it was the first time we had interacted in about two weeks. My heart swelled with unnameable feelings, unsure how to differentiate between the hurt and the satisfaction of hearing Roman's voice again. I couldn't believe he had been the one to initiate a conversation after how I had shot him down. How broken down must he be?

I tried not to think about it.

Roman Godfrey loved fast cars. Roman Godfrey hated liars.

Roman Godfrey had a weird aversion to green peppers.

Roman Godfrey still loved me, didn't he?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Thankfully, Letha was happy to let me air out the thoughts I had been stifling when we met up for a study session the next day;

"It was so fucking rude," I whispered, angrily flicking through the pages of my history book. "He's been flirting with every single girl at this school in front of me, and suddenly he wants to talk to me? He has no right to even say my name!" I had no other way of processing my hurt than through anger; my body would break if it carried any more pain.

Letha sighed, glancing around in the numbing silence of the school library. She seemed anxious about my antics, anxious that I would suddenly raise my voice-- she sat across from me, flipping through her notes with quiet, practiced flicks of her fingers. Her voice was a soft murmur, just loud enough to puncture the hush. "Typical Roman... I told you to be prepared,"

"But people are talking about it!" I shot in. "Are they not? They all heard me whimpering to get away from him, it was so embarrassing!"

Letha's eyes were round with sympathy as she reached forward and put her hand on top of mine, stopping my rapid attack on my history book. "Let them talk,"

"But I!--"

"No one can know the real reason you broke up anyway, so what's the point?" she tried, her voice soft. "If Roman wants to play games, he needs to learn that things have consequences. It's not like his mom taught him that lesson, so... it seems you will be the perfect example."

I kept my eyes fixed on my textbook as I retracted my hand, pretending to read. The words blurred together, meaningless. The more I thought about Roman and his antics, the more I wanted to disappear. "Everything just... hurts," I mumbled. "I know I shouldn't be saying it, but I miss him."

Letha sighed once more, nodding to herself as she watched me drown in my thoughts. "Even though he's flirting with the cheerleaders again?"

"Yes," It was a painful confession; a pathetic one, at most. "He's obviously not into them, he just has no other way of retaliating."

"Retaliating?"

"Obviously? Roman's pissed, this is how he functions," I sucked in a sharp breath, absentmindedly tracing the words in my history book. "I doubt he's sleeping with them though, that's for sure."

Silence.

After a few seconds too long, I glanced up at Letha through my brows. My heart painfully skipped a beat, kicking at my ribs; "You don't think he's?--"

"You don't?" Letha bit the inside of her cheek, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back into her chair. "Flash news! My cousin's a whore."

"He's not!"

"He is,"

"Not-- Not anymore!"

"Once a nympho, always a nympho,"

"Not after therapy!" A beat. Two. "Okay, Roman hasn't been to therapy, but he's not a!--"

"Nympho? Totally," Letha said with a snort.

"Not anymore! He's not sleeping with them!" I hissed. "He loves me!"

Letha's shoulder slumped, and she had a peculiar look on her face; come on. "He said that?"

"Yes! I told you this!--"

"Then he's a liar as well," Letha snapped. "Get it in your head, for once." Within a snap of a second, she leaned forward, scooping all her books into a heap while speaking with a lowered voice; "The quicker you understand that being involved with a upir puts you in danger, the quicker you will feel better!"

My temper was coming to a boil. "We were good before I knew, though! Maybe it would've been better if you'd never confirmed it to me in the first place?!--"

"Grow up!" Letha hissed. "Stop taking your anger out on me, and start focusing on staying out of the mess you've made instead!" With that, she stuffed her books into her bag, breathing heavily in and out of her nose to keep calm. Her next words seeped out from between her gritted teeth; "I've done nothing but help you, even after you pulled all that shit behind my back. It wouldn't hurt you to be just a little grateful."

I had half the mind to throw a book at Letha when she turned around, but the further away she got, the more I knew I'd miss. Hesitation one-oh-one.

The other half of my mind came to the clearest conclusion I'd had in a while; the Godfreys were a crazy fucking bunch, and they were certainly not good news. I tried telling myself that Letha was simply looking out for me, and that her harshness could be explained by everything that had happened between us-- that was understandable, after all. If she hadn't harbored any animosity after everything, it would've been weird, right? And if I was having such vivid images of throwing books after her, I couldn't be completely free of animosity either?

Going back to studying after everything that had gone down was a hard task in itself, especially when I felt people all around me whispering. It was either that they had caught onto the fight between me and Letha, or it was the usual-- isn't that Roman Godfrey's girl?

Not anymore, fuckwads.

And just as I was about to wallow in more self-pity, I felt a rather harsh tap on my shoulder, hard enough to make me flinch and turn around to glare at the perpetrator.

... I really shouldn't have.

I looked right up at my math teacher, Mr. Warrens, who was now looming over me with a coffee cup in one hand and a clipboard in the other. He wasn't exactly the scariest teacher in school, but right now he had a damning look on his face which alarmed me; this could certainly not be good news?

"I see this is where you spend your free time, miss?" Mr. Warrens said, raising a brow. "Didn't imagine you were the type to sit around and study anything at all."

I let out the most anxious giggle of all time, blindly closing my history book as I cracked a polite smile. "You'd be surprised,"

"Oh, I am," Mr. Warrens took a sip of his coffee with a presumptuous look in his eyes; "Have you ever considered assorting any study time to maths instead?"

This was mortifying. "I was-- I was planning on doing my math assignment after this, sir,"

He didn't seem particularly convinced by my lie, but with a scoff, he moved on from it; he was the kind of man who could sniff out unfinished homework from across the room. "It doesn't matter. Because you, miss, are particularly lucky today,"

"Oh?"

"Since you're so eager to spend your time sitting around glaring at books without actually understanding the words, I figured this would benefit you more than anyone, so... you're about to become the library's newest unpaid intern,"

I sputtered out my words-- "What?!"

Mr. Wren shrugged, but he couldn't hide the glee burning in his eyes. I bet he had been waiting for a moment to punish me for being a bad maths student. "Godfrey's got detention. You've got missing credits. Think of it as... killing two birds with one stone,"

No.

There was no way.

"... Godfrey?!"

It wasn't until I glanced around that I saw him. Roman stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets, leaning against a shelf of books a little further away, looking utterly bored, as if he had been summoned here against his will-- the same way he was always summoned everywhere. He barely glanced at me, his gaze fixed on a crack in the floor.

Was this what Roman looked like when he wanted to disappear? It was a satisfactory sight.

Mr. Warrens' eyes flicked between us. "Both of you. Sorting books alphabetically. Now. The restricted section is a mess, so I expect you to be thorough. You'll report back to me when you're done,"

"We have a librarian for that!" I snapped. "Why do we?-- I didn't even do anything, sir, I was just minding my own business here! If Roman's got detention, why am I joining?!--"

"Enough!" With one particularly angry slurp, Mr. Warrens downed his coffee and slammed his mug next to my books. "The librarian can't do everything alone, and I can easily stop giving you the passing grade you most certainly don't deserve!"

I swallowed hard. I needed that fucking grade.

I glanced at Roman again, who still wasn't looking at me-- I couldn't believe that Mr. Warrens was unknowingly sending me into close proximity with a upir, the most dangerous carnivore on the planet. Hopefully, Roman wouldn't get the urge to suck me dry of blood for rejecting his confession of love when the doors closed behind us.

Mr. Warrens saw my rebellion drain from my eyes. Did he catch the fear? "Pack your stuff and come with me,"

My pulse quickened as I put my books in my bag and got up, dragging my feet as I followed Mr. Warrens down the library-- it felt like I was walking to a guillotine, my death. It didn't take long before I heard Roman's long steps behind me, the sound of his expensive shoes echoing through the library. "Cute," he muttered under his breath. "Forced labor."

I had to hold back a snort, and I didn't have to look at Mr. Warrens to sense he was rolling his eyes-- "One more word from you, Godfrey, and I schedule a meeting with your mother to discuss your lack of attendance in my class,"

That was enough to make Roman bite his tongue. He didn't want his mother involved with anything, I remembered that much.

The restricted section was tucked away behind locked doors, where the dim lighting made the room feel smaller. Dust floated in the air, illuminated by the yellowish lamps overhead. Rows of tall shelves loomed, lined with battered, forgotten books-- the kind no one could borrow anymore.

Mr. Warrens gave us both stern looks, dangling the keys in his hands. "Don't steal anything, and be done in an hour or so. Got it?"

Roman snorted as he shoved his hands in his pockets again, scanning the books around us; "Unless the school is storing Playboys here, you can rest assured that nothing will be stolen,"

I grimaced, rolling my eyes. "Ew, Roman,"

I couldn't believe this was our first verbal interaction in weeks.

Mr. Warrens didn't seem very pleased either, but he decided to let it go for now-- he turned around on his heel, and the door clicked shut behind him.

I wished I hadn't argued with Letha. Maybe we would've left together instead and gotten ice cream? Maybe Mr. Warrens would've picked someone else? Why couldn't we have studied at Letha's place, like in the good old days? Everything seemed to be going wrong for me today.

I scoured the shelves, not daring to meet Roman's eyes just yet-- there were mostly books the school had deemed inappropriate after buying them, along with some outdated science books from the nineties. I couldn't imagine how we'd manage to sort all of this in one hour.

However, Roman being Roman, he couldn't stop himself from saying the first thing that came to his mind; "You look good," he purred, scanning me up and down from behind with that usual hungry look in his eyes. "There's no need for Playboys when you're here, that's for sure."

I couldn't anticipate how deeply I blushed. Roman never failed to say something nasty, and it never failed to work on me. It was disgusting how easily he could get to me with the worst of methods, even when I was scared. "Stop that," I mumbled. Finding the courage to face Roman, I slowly turned to him as I prayed to all entities of the galaxy that he wasn't standing over me with his fangs ready for me in the dark.

Alas--

He stood leaned against the nearest shelf, dragging a lazy hand through his hair. His green eyes met mine, neutral, certainly not pouncing on me yet. Roman bit back a smirk, clearly happy to be locked in here with me. "What, are you gonna report me for harassment?"

"I might,"

"Shut up, you like it when I'm nasty,"

I did, but he didn't need to get it confirmed. More than ever, I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, so I thought I'd hit him where it'd hurt; "What'd you do to deserve this, then?"

Roman blinked. "Which part? You leaving me, or detention?"

Ouch. My heart thudded with pain-- my attempt at hurting him had backfired like Daniel's dad's car. All the times I had promised Roman that I'd never leave him flashed before my eyes-- all the promises, the repeated assurance. It became clear to me that his little act of confidence was just that, an act. My voice was meek when I managed to speak, a mere whisper; "Detention,"

Roman crossed his arms over his chest, tsking. "Existing," His voice was low, bored, but there was something sharp beneath it.

"I see..." I knew that it either involved skipping class or being caught smoking behind the school. Typical Roman behavior, really.

The air felt thick. I couldn't breathe. Not only was I in danger, being alone with a upir like this, but I felt also felt unbelievably guilty.

I dropped my bag on the floor, already reaching for the first book on the shelf, doing anything to keep my hands busy. Waiting for Roman to say something meaningful after he had insisted on talking to me yesterday on the stairs, I remained quiet as I flipped the book open. My fingers trembled against the paper with anticipation, yet-- nothing.

For a while, none of us spoke. The only sounds were the shuffle of pages and the soft thud of books being placed back onto shelves. Every so often, Roman would reach past me, brushing against my shoulder or the curve of my waist; fleeting, accidental touches that made my heart lurch painfully inside my chest with both fear and suppressed excitement.

It felt like some twisted punishment. To be this close to him again, close enough to smell the faint trace of cigarette smoke clinging to his jacket, but not close enough to say any of the things clawing at the back of my throat.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore; "Are you really not going to say anything?"

Roman stopped, holding up a book mid-air. It was at this moment that I caught a glance of my hair ties still hanging around his wrist. "Say what? I feel like I've said enough,"

"You... wanted to say something yesterday,"

"Oh," he mumbled, putting away the book in the correct alphabetical order. "Just wanted to check if you were alright."

"... What?"

"I saw you storming out of the cafeteria the other day. Just wondered if I was the reason,"

The feeling I'd had when I nearly threw a book after Letha a few minutes ago returned, and I caught myself gripping the book I was holding tighter as my body anticipated flinging it at Roman. However, I restrained myself and turned away from him. "Would it satisfy you if I told you that you were?"

Roman didn't miss a beat-- "No,"

For fuck's sake.

"I won't ever be satisfied," he continued. "Not until you wake up and get it in your head that I'm supposed to be with you, and no one else."

My heart was in my throat, and I placed my hand on the shelf in front of me to steady myself. My knees had gone weak, threatening to give up on me. I couldn't breathe. Hearing Roman say that made me dizzy beyond reason-- or was that the dust? I had to get myself together. "Actually, my head has never been clearer than after figuring you out, thank you very much," I snapped. "Flirt with all the cheerleaders in the tri-state area. Do whatever you want, Roman. At least I know I won't have to see any of it after we graduate next summer."

His expression remained unreadable up until my last sentence, as something flickered behind his eyes, dark and wounded. "You think I like this?"

My hands stilled around the book I was holding. "I think you're trying to hurt me," I whispered.

Roman stepped forward, just a fraction-- it made me turn around to face him. Standing with my back to him didn't feel very safe. Roman got close enough that I could feel the ghost of his breath on my temple. His fingers brushed against the shelf beside my head, trapping me in place without touching me; "Yeah?" His voice was quieter now, almost dangerous. "Is it working?"

My whole body was close to trembling, torn between wanting to slap him across the face and wanting him to kiss me. It was giving me the biggest deja vu to seven minutes in heaven all those months ago-- the dim lights, the close proximity, the danger of the situation.

It was sick, how badly I missed it all.

Roman's eyes flicked down to my mouth. "Speak,"

Fuck. "No,"

"Liar,"

"Me?!"

"Who else?"

I gasped; "So I'm the liar? Says the secret upir!"

Roman reacted like I had pressed hot iron to his skin. With a knee-jerk reaction, he turned away, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek like he'd caught himself making a mistake. He picked up another book, pretending like nothing had happened.

Now that his back was turned to me, I pressed the palm of my hand to my face-- that was too harsh, wasn't it? A meek sorry slipped past my lips before I could stop it. Why was I apologizing?

"Let's just get this over with," Roman mumbled, flickering through the book that had caught his fake interest.

Seeing him like this made me want to walk up to him and give him a hug from behind. I hadn't done enough of those when I'd had the chance. There were many things I should've done when I still had him-- I couldn't believe I wasn't going to get the opportunity to kiss the beautiful tip of his nose anymore.

The more I dwelled on the past, the more it hit me that Roman was still a person despite the fact that he was also a upir. He had laid his heart out to me that night those two weeks ago, so maybe it was fair to show him that I was hurting as well?

God, how I wanted him to be okay.

Which is exactly why I allowed myself to pose the question; "Are you really sleeping with them?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, soft and fragile.

Roman froze halfway through reaching for another book. His knuckles went white around the spine. For a long moment, he didn't look at me. "What?"

My stomach twisted; "The cheerleaders. The girls you've been... flirting with. Are you sleeping with them?"

He was still for so long that I thought he might not answer at all. Then, slowly, he set the book down on the shelf, deliberate, controlled, before turning to face me. "Why do you care?"

My breath caught in my chest-- what a stupid question.

Imagining Roman having sex with any of those girls made me sick, that's why I cared. Thinking about him kissing them like he used to kiss me, touching them like he used to touch me, made me want to slam my head into the bookshelves around us to crack my skull open. How would he talk to them? Would he call them sweet names, like he used to call me? Would he groan into the crook of their necks as he came, would he talk them through it when they did as well?

I needed to shut my mind off before I threw up.

Roman's mouth curved when I didn't answer, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Right..." He nodded to himself, letting it sink in that I cared, that I saw. The tension in the room stretched thin, vibrating between us like a live wire. "I'm not sleeping with them," he eventually said. "If that helps you sleep at night."

I wanted to call Letha and yell at her that I was right, that he wouldn't go so far to prove his point. Not when our breakup was this fresh, anyway. "Thanks," I mumbled.

Roman insisted on the subject; "Maybe I should, though? Maybe that would make you come back running?"

I was two seconds from buckling over and barfing all over the outdated science books. "You're an ass,"

"Are you surprised?"

"Nope," I huffed. "Just wondering whether you'd actually be able to."

"Able to...?"

With a tiny smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned my back against the shelf. Like this, I could size Roman up properly, and I felt I had some sort of defence with my attack; "Y'know, like... get it up, and all,"

Roman snorted, visibly offended. "What the fuck are you on about?"

"I don't know, Rome, like you'd ever want to fuck anyone else after having been with me?"

Hearing his old nickname, he froze, his green eyes widening as the initial shock seeped out of his lungs. "That's not how dicks work," he mumbled. "If there's a possibility to have sex, it will be ready, believe me."

I scanned him. Properly. All from the way he was breathing, from the way his eye twitched with retained frustration. Roman was two seconds from cracking, and I knew it. He was lying. "Okay, discarding my seemingly limited knowledge of how dicks function, would your conscious be okay with it?"

Roman needed a minute to let his brain churn through the question, weighing all possible answers. While thinking, his eyes scoured the room, moving on autopilot as he held his breath-- it didn't take long for him to find an outdated book on anatomy, and he held it out for me to take.

I snorted. "Funny," I mumbled, accepting the book. "Answer the question, Roman."

"No,"

"No?" I watched as he walked away from me again and started trying to organize. "Don't be like that, just answer the fucking!--"

"No, I wouldn't be okay with it,"

Silence.

Roman let out a sigh as he leaned his forehead against a shelf, shutting his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing. "I still love you, whether I want to or not. There's nothing I can do but wait for it to go away, so until then, I think it'd kill me,"

... Oh.

I couldn't feel my fingers. It felt like my heart had sunk into my diaphragm, beating low in my stomach. There was nothing I could do when my eyes welled with tears except press the anatomy book to my chest, hoping to relieve the pain. For a second, I forgot that I was afraid. When the second stretched to many more, I even forgot that Roman was a upir.

For about a minute, Roman was simply the man I had fallen in love with.

"Rome?"

He didn't turn his head to me, not fully, but I could see the bitter tears forming in the corner of his eye.

"Rome, do you... can you hear my heart?"

I knew he could. I knew his upir senses allowed him to hear it clear as day.

And Roman nodded, so faintly I could barely see it. "I can hear that you're scared, if that's why you're asking," he mumbled. "I'm not stupid."

I swallowed hard. I shouldn't be initiating this conversation. Letha said it was dangerous, the book said it was dangerous, my mind was screaming at me to stop-- but my heart... my heart bled for him. "That's not fear,"

With slow moves, Roman turned his head to properly look at me. He saw the way I pressed my back up against the shelf behind me, how I clutched the anatomy book like it would protect me from my feelings.

"Whatever you feel for me, Rome, I can assure you... I feel it for you a million times more,"

It was the truth, nothing more.

"I don't think we're soulmates. I don't believe that meeting you was some sort of divine intervention, because then you wouldn't be what you are. But I can be certain that this wasn't pure chance either, because... I willed this. Ever since I first saw you, I felt ready to go through whatever I needed to do to get to you,"

Roman's lips parted, his pupils dilating as his green eyes rounded out.

"I love you," I breathed. "And I should've said it that night, because I've always loved you. I love you with every bit of conscience I was born with. I love you, Roman."

Finally.

I exhaled.

My shoulders sank with the weight that was relieved off my soul.

Finally, he knew. Finally, I had said it.

There was a quiet gasp, a sharp inhale, followed by a silent tear rolling down Roman's cheek. His lower lip quivered as he spoke in a whisper; "Then what the hell are we doing?"

That was not the response I had expected-- not that I had thought this through, of course, but that was certainly not it. Seeing him upset like this reminded me of the night of our breakup, and it made me freeze in my spot. Had we not suffered enough?

"If you love me, and I love you, aren't we... supposed to be together? Isn't that how this works?"

"Not always," I breathed, slowly turning to put away the anatomy book I had been clutching. "There are millions of stories of people who love each other but can't be together... Look around."

Roman smeared his tears into his skin. "I don't want to be one of those stories,"

"We were never supposed to happen in the first place," I mumbled. "Maybe if we stop fighting the fact that we should be apart--"

"But I don't want to be apart from you," It seemed to be dawning on Roman how serious this conversation was, how final it felt. "And if you love me as you say you do, shouldn't you want to be with me?"

"It's not that easy!--"

"So, what then? You're saying you don't want to be with me because it's not easy? You love me, but you give up?" Roman's fists clenched and unclenched as he tried to remain calm, yet his efforts didn't pay off. His words came out with his next exhale, relenting to the pain of his confusion; "Why can't we just be together?"

I swallowed hard. "You know why, Roman,"

"No, I don't," Roman stepped closer, too close, his breath falling hot against my cheek. "I don't-- I don't fucking get it anymore."

This confrontation felt like a punch to the chest.

"You say you love me," His voice was low, pleading. "Not even my own fucking mother loves me, so I know that love is a heavy thing, and I know that you can't just--" He broke off, dragging a hand through his hair. "You can't just turn that off!"

My heart was trying to twist itself out from between my ribs as I looked up into Roman's big, green eyes. "I know," I breathed. "I can't turn it off. Believe me, I've tried."

"I've tried too," Roman whispered, inching closer. "But at the end of the day, I only want you."

My throat closed up. He seemed so sincere, so utterly desperate-- I kept wiggling my fingers to make sure they weren't tingling, that he wasn't using his powers on me, because I felt more and more overcome by the emotions I had been suppressing these past few weeks. "Even after flirting with all those cheerleaders?" I breathed, giving in to a pout.

Roman's gaze narrowed with a look of come on as he placed his hand on the bookshelf behind me, locking me in again. Instinctively, I pressed my back against the shelf, swallowing over and over-- how had I let him get so close? "You're not who I thought you were," I whispered.

Roman flinched, his jaw tightened, yet he didn't back off. "I'm still me,"

"You're barely human,"

"I'm still me," His voice broke open, hoarse. "I'm still the same guy who kissed you in a shitty closet during seven minutes in heaven."

God, that was a hundred years ago. My heart cracked straight down the middle-- I could still feel that night like it was stitched under my skin. "But you're not safe," My voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm not safe with you around."

Roman sighed, his lashes falling heavy over his eyes; "With that logic, you were never safe in the first place. But when have I ever put you in danger? When have I ever harmed you? I kicked a fucking car away from you, and mind you, it was coming at you at about a hundred kilometers an hour! If I'm willing to do that, you have to understand that I would never hurt you!"

My chest heaved. This was too much.

"Don't listen to Letha," he pleaded. "I'm not even a full upir yet, I'm less dangerous than a fucking hippo!"

Wait.

... What?

He wasn't... a full upir?

It felt like I had been sucker-punched in the stomach. My eyes sprung wide open, staring at Roman and his exasperated expression-- it quickly fell apart as he scanned his mind with a grimace, his gaze turning to the ceiling as he pondered how to rephrase it. "Actually, hippos are really fucking dangerous, aren't they?" he mumbled mostly to himself. "I don't know, okay, who's like... moderate on the scale?"

I couldn't breathe. "Roman--"

"What about those small hippos? The ones that only bite people's knees and stuff?--"

"Roman, you're not a full upir?!"

He stopped his rambling, adjusting his stance as he scanned my face. He blinked. Once, twice. "No...?" His words were slow, trying, as he tested the waters. "Letha didn't tell you that?"

"Letha has nothing to do with this!" I lied, trying to catch my breath.

"Letha has everything to do with this," Roman grumbled. "I'm not fucking stupid. You were wearing her clothes that night, and you smelled like her incense for rich schizos! If you think you're not being manipulated here, think again!"

"Letha is my best friend!" I choked out. "She is trying to keep me safe!--"

"From what?!" Roman huffed, raising his voice as his frustrations rose. "From me? I don't even have venom!"

My heart stopped. It was true.

If Roman hadn't died before, he couldn't be venomous.

If Roman hadn't died before, his urges were mostly dormant.

If Roman hadn't died before, he... wasn't really a proper upir.

Yet.

This changed everything.

My lips parted in shock as I looked away from him, my chest rising and falling with every shaky breath. It didn't help anything when the dizziness kicked in. "I feel like I'm going to faint," I mumbled, changing my weight from one foot to another.

"You're not," Roman adjusted the hand he had on the shelf behind me, getting ready to catch me if I were to crumble to the floor. "Not to freak you out, but I would've sensed your blood pressure dropping."

"I know," I breathed. "I remember that from the car crash."

"Ah," Roman kept trying to read me, kept trying to understand what had just happened in my mind. "Look, why do I have a feeling that... this changes things?"

"What does?"

"That I'm not... that thing, fully,"

I swallowed hard, daring to meet his green eyes-- they were so heartbreakingly full of hope. "I still can't trust you,"

Roman dared to lean down further, the tip of his nose nearly touching mine. "Then let me prove to you that you can," he whispered against my lips. "Let me show you that I have control."

"But--"

"Let me," he begged. "Please."

I couldn't breathe, not when he was this close. Suddenly, it felt like my whole body was on fire, just like it had been before.

Roman's chest was heaving.

He was so, so close.

I knew I was putting my life on the line for this, but... it felt worth it.

Roman's breath fanned across my lips, his presence overwhelming. The weight of his promise lingered between us, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn't sure if I was fighting against him or surrendering entirely.

I barely had a second to consider before his lips brushed against my neck, featherlight, barely there-- it was enough to set every nerve in my body alight. I sucked in a sharp breath, fingers clutching at the bookshelf behind me as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded. The heat of his mouth lingered, sending a shiver down my spine, but the sharp sting of fangs never came. He stayed, lips parted against my skin, just breathing me in.

I didn't realize my hands had let go of the shelf until I felt them against his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. I could feel his heartbeat against my palm-- steady, real. For all his inhuman traits, for all my fear and hesitation, he was still a boy standing in front of me, waiting for me to believe in him. My boy.

"See?" he murmured, his lips still hovering over my pulse point. "There is nothing to be scared of."

I was trembling, but not from fear anymore. The realization hit me all at once-- I had missed this, missed him. Before I could think better of it, my hands slid up, over his shoulders, around the back of his neck. His hair was soft beneath my fingertips, and when I tugged, just slightly, his breath hitched.

That was all it took-- he knew what I wanted.

Roman's lips met mine with a desperation that burned through every hesitation I'd tried to hold onto. There was no doubting, no second-guessing-- it was raw, breathless, words of longing condensed into the way his mouth moved against mine, how his hands found my waist and pulled me flush against him. He kissed me like he was trying to prove something, like he was trying to rewrite everything that had happened between us, like nothing had ever happened at all.

I moaned against Roman's lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tilting his head to claim more of me. My legs felt weak, my was head spinning, but I didn't stop; I couldn't. My fingers tangled in his hair, his name slipping from my lips between kisses, and I felt him groan in response-- a low, needy sound that sent a thrill down my spine.

Then, the tension snapped like a live wire. One moment, I was standing, and the next, gravity had me. But it wasn't clumsy, wasn't an accident, it was something deeper, something inevitable-- the bookshelves groaned under our weight as we slid down, slow and spiralling, our descent fuelled by tangled fingers, desire, and unspoken longing. The world outside the restricted section ceased to exist, and Roman's hands were everywhere, threading through my hair, gripping my waist, pulling me closer with desperation.

By the time we hit the floor, breathless and entwined, the air between us was electric, charged with something neither of us could name. Roman hovered over me, eyes dark, lips swollen, his thumb brushing over the curve of my cheek.

"Fuck," I cursed, shivering-- I was losing control, spiralling with every sweet touch. What was I doing? What was I thinking? I shouldn't be doing this. Roman was still a upir, full or not. My mind went haywire with conflicting thoughts as he leaned down to kiss me again, and I bunched the fabric of his shirt between my fingers.

Roman groaned against my lips, like he could feel me slipping and wouldn't allow it. His hands tightened, fingers splaying against my waist, dragging me closer until there was no room to think, only to feel.

"I love you," he murmured, breath warm against my skin as his lips traced the edge of my jaw, down the curve of my throat. His voice was lower now, almost coaxing, like he knew exactly what was holding me back, and he was determined to make me forget.

I should've stopped this. I should've pushed him away. But when his teeth grazed my pulse, a sharp gasp escaped me, my body arching before I could think it through properly. My grip on his shirt tightened, nails digging into him as if he were the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth.

"Tell me to stop," Roman whispered, lips hovering over the hollow of my throat, his breath shaky, uneven. His restraint was a fragile thing-- I could feel it in the way his fingers flexed against my skin, the way his whole breath trembled with need.

I opened my mouth, ready to say it, ready to end this before it spiralled further...

But those words never came.

Instead--

"Don't," I whispered. "Don't stop."

I dragged him back to me, crashing my lips against his like he was the only thing in the world that could keep me breathing.

Roman groaned into the kiss, a sound so raw it sent a bolt of heat down my spine. "You drive me insane," he rasped, and before I could think, before I could remember why I was supposed to stop, his hands were sliding beneath my shirt, fingertips burning against my skin.

And I let him.

I let him wry my shirt off.

I let him drag my pants off.

I let him kiss my thighs, let him press a kiss to my clit through my underwear, let him kiss his way back up my stomach, and to top it off-- I was quite sure I ripped a button off his shirt to get it off of him.

Fuck. Had I lost my mind?

"I'm so screwed," I mumbled, clutching onto Roman's hair as he sucked a hickey into the skin of my shoulder. "I have no control when it comes to you." Closing my eyes, I relished in the fact that there'd at least be a mark left behind from this like a reward-- I'd have remnants of Roman on my shoulder for at least a week, if this was the last time we ever did this. It couldn't be. Could it?

Would I never feel Roman like this again? It made my heart ache as I tugged his hair harder, like it would make us stay in this moment forever.

Roman hummed against my skin before he raised himself, hovering above me. His lids were heavy over his green eyes, darkened with lust-- but in the midst of the want, there was love, shining down on me with the clearest ray of sun. "I'll lend you some of mine then," he murmured, before getting off of me.

What?

What was happening right now?

I laid on the floor, my brows drawing together in confusion as my eyes followed him-- what was he doing, lying down next to me?

It wasn't until Roman smiled at me, the first genuine one in a while, that I got an inkling of what he was thinking. "Sit," he said.

... Sit?

Now I was unsure again.

I scrambled to my knees, wondering what on earth he was planning to do. "Rome, what are you?-- Ah!"

Roman wasted no time hooking his strong arm around my leg, dragging me towards him like I weighed nothing as I yelped. With a quick manoeuvre, I was somehow straddling his chest as my cheeks burned. "Giving you control," he murmured, now pulling me towards his face.

... Oh God.

"Sit,"

My hand shot to the bookshelf, keeping myself steady as Roman's darkened eyes urged me to use him, to do whatever I wanted to him, while he slowly pulled my underwear to the side. "Ro-- Roman, I--"

All the air in my body caught in my throat as he leaned forward off the floor, dragging me down with him as he covered my mound with his mouth, sucking me in. My legs gave in to a tremble, letting out a broken moan as I instinctively let go of the edge of the shelf-- this couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

But when Roman sucked down on my clit with the gentlest of pressures, just how he knew I liked it, I knew I wasn't imagining it.

For the love of all things holy, I hoped Mr. Warrens wouldn't walk in on me like this, straddling Roman's face. He'd fail us both, and possibly get us expelled-- a big part of me wanted to just disappear and die, but the other only wanted more.

I had no idea what came over me when I grabbed Roman's hair to anchor myself and rolled my hips into his face. It felt rough, too commanding, too much like I was taking advantage, all until he let out a happy hum; this is what he had wanted, for me to feel in control.

It felt too good to stop, and it only made me tug his hair harder-- he seemed to like that, as usual. Waves of pleasure coursed through my body as Roman swirled his tongue around my clit, only to later seal his lips around it, moaning, sending vibrations all throughout my system. It became too much to bear when I felt closer and closer to the edge a little too soon, and I let out a squeak of clear overstimulation before I raised myself from his mouth, letting my quivering thighs bring me back to the floor again.

I tried to catch my breath as I stared back at Roman in disbelief, where he lay on the floor with parted lips and a satisfied look on his face. He slowly turned to me, my slick glistening around his mouth; "Still scared?" he purred.

Yes.

Yes, yes, absolutely yes.

"It seems like you're the one struggling with control," he continued, not bothering to wipe the victorious smirk off his face. "You can't stay away from me, can you?"

I swallowed hard. My body felt like it was on fire, my mind screaming at me to stop, to run, but I couldn't move.

Roman propped himself up on his elbows, his gaze heavy-lidded with satisfaction; "No matter what you tell yourself, you'll always come back to me. That's what you're really scared of, isn't it?"

"No!" I breathed, shaking my head. "That's not-- not true!--"

"Isn't it?" Roman tilted his head, watching me like a predator that had already caught its prey. His smirk didn't fade, but something in his expression darkened, sharpened, like my denial had cracked through his amusement. "You don't sound convinced."

He sat up slowly, moving with an unbearable grace as he reached for me-- not roughly, not desperately, but deliberately, fingers tracing over the inside of my knee before drifting up, light as a whisper.

Roman watched my every move with precision as he dragged the tip of his thumb across my bare skin. "You're nervous," he observed. "But not because you're afraid..." His smirk deepened as I tensed under his touch. "I can feel you, y'know. Hear you. Your heart doesn't lie."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn't speak.

Roman leaned in closer, slow and unhurried, his lips ghosting over my ear as he exhaled a warm breath.

"You can fight it all you want," he continued, his voice like silk laced with something richer, something darker. "Tell yourself whatever you need to, but we both know the truth, don't we?"

Roman's hand drifted higher, his fingers brushing over the fabric of my underwear-- he wanted them off.

"You'll always be mine,"

Goosebumps appeared across my skin, my body betraying me once more. How was it possible to fear someone so much, but to want them even more? Why couldn't I pull myself together?

I didn't have time to think about it; with a swift, fluid motion, he lunged forward and had me on my back. My breath hitched as the floor was suddenly beneath me, Roman above me, caging me in. His hand splayed over my hip, holding me down, his body pressed flush against mine.

Then, when he kissed me, it wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle. It was a claim, fierce and unrelenting, his mouth crashing against mine as if he was starving for me. Heat surged between us, my fingers tangling in his hair before I could even think. There was no space, no hesitation, no room for anything except the sharp, dizzying pull of him dragging me under.

Roman kissed me like he wanted to consume me, his lips hot and desperate; his sharp teeth grazed my lower lip, making my whole body jolt. His fingers dug into my hip, keeping me flush against him, his other hand fisting into my hair to tilt my head back, deepening the kiss until I couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

I should've stopped him.

I could've stopped him.

But I didn't.

Instead, I arched into him, my nails dragging over his bare skin as I let him press me harder into the floor. Roman groaned into my mouth, the sound vibrating through my body, and it sent something wild through me-- something I couldn't control, something that made me wrap my legs around his waist without thinking.

That was all it took.

Roman cursed under his breath, his hand sliding down my thigh, gripping tight as he ground against me, slow and deliberate, making sure I felt all of him. His breath was ragged, his control slipping, and the worst part was how it wholeheartedly thrilled me.

"I need to have you," he rasped, his lips dragging down my jaw, my throat. "I need you."

My pulse pounded in my ears, my body burning everywhere he touched. I wanted to deny it. I wanted to tell him he was wrong. But when his teeth grazed my neck, a gasp tore from my lips, and I knew I was completely, utterly lost. "Here?" I breathed.

Roman smirked against my skin, his breath hot as he traced the faint mark his teeth had left with the tip of his tongue. "Here," he said-- "Now."

I shivered beneath him, every nerve in my body betraying me, bending to his touch, to his voice, to him. I hated it. I craved it.

Roman's hips rolled against mine, slow, torturous, and every time the outline of his hard cock lined up with my clothed clit, I arched into him without thinking. He let out a low, satisfied hum, dragging his nose up the side of my neck before pressing his lips to my ear.

"See?" he murmured, his voice thick with triumph. "You need me too."

I did. I did.

When his mouth slanted over mine again, hot and demanding, I kissed him back just as hard, My fingers twisted into his hair, body surging against him, desperate and reckless and lost. Roman groaned against my lips, his hands tightening around my waist as he dragged me closer, as if even the press of our bodies wasn't enough; it would never be enough.

"Do you--" I could barely speak, nor pull away. "Do you-- Condom?"

Roman's heavy breath fell against my mouth, pressing his clothed cock against my clit harder, watching me whimper. "Nope," he said. "But we're still gonna fuck."

Christ.

This was the stupidest idea ever.

But the more I looked into Roman's eyes, the more I realized he was searching mine for a sign of permission, waiting for a green light despite his confident rouse. I gave in to my desire; "You might want to get my underwear off, then," I mumbled, biting down on my lower lip to stop it from quivering-- my adrenaline was shot.

With a proud huff, Roman gave my cheek a quick kiss, a sweet one, before he propped himself up on his knees, hooking his fingers around my underwear. "Up," he ordered, and I submitted to his command with no further thought. Lifting my hips, I let Roman pull my underwear down my legs, and just as I thought he was about to throw them away, he... tucked them into the front pocket of his jeans?

"Hey!" I whined. "I need those, I'm wearing pants today!--"

"Don't care,"

And suddenly, Roman leaned forward, grabbing my chin to keep my eyes focused on him with a firm hold. His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, his grip firm but not unkind, and his smirk deepened as he tilted my chin up, making sure I had nowhere to look but at him. "You don't need them right now, do you?"

I swallowed hard, shaking my head.

Roman held back a laugh before he shifted back, his eyes dropping between my legs. The hunger in his gaze made my stomach flip. He spread my thighs wider, running his fingers up the inside of one, slow, teasing, until his knuckles brushed against my sex.

"God," he breathed, slipping his fingers through the slick heat between my legs. He pulled back just enough to watch my face as he dragged them over my clit, rubbing lazy circles that made my legs tremble. "You're fucking soaked."

Why was he surprised? Roman had literally manhandled me to sit on his face three minutes ago. I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "Shut up," I mumbled, but my voice wavered when his fingers pressed against me firmer.

Roman only grinned as heat flushed through me-- I tried to turn my head away, but his grip on my chin tightened. "Nuh-uh," he murmured, voice thick with amusement. "Oh, don't go shy on me now."

Fuck it.

I grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him down into a kiss, rough and impatient. Roman groaned against my lips, pressing his fingers inside me in one smooth motion-- I gasped, my body arching into him as he curled them just right, sending sparks up my spine. I was so screwed.

"That's it," he breathed, kissing down my jaw, my throat, my collarbone. He dipped his fingers deeper, filling me at a sweet pace. I let out a choked gasp, my body betraying me, hips lifting to chase more friction.

Roman groaned, his forehead falling against mine, but his smug grin never wavered.

"Fuck, you're gripping me so tight, baby," He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that nearly made me see white-- the spot I never managed to reach on my own. "Like you're scared I'll leave, or..." His breath ghosted over my lips; "Like you're scared you'll never get this again."

I whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair.

"That's it, isn't it?" His voice was almost sweet. "You think I'm some monster, but here you are... Letting me have you anyway." Roman's grin softened, and he would've almost seemed affectionate if it weren't for the sharp, possessive glint in his eyes. "Because you love me."

I jerked, but he caught my chin again, keeping my gaze locked in his; "Say it,"

I shook my head. Deny, deny, deny. Was I really gonna give it to him this easy?

"Say it," he repeated, the demand a breath away from my lips.

My chest heaved. I wanted to fight it, but I was drowning in Roman, in the way he touched me, in the way he knew--

"I love you," I choked out, moving my hips to meet his fingers. It felt too good. I couldn't think. I couldn't function. I couldn't, I couldn't, I couldn't.

Roman's cocky smirk faltered. He watched me give in, watched me crumble, and just for a second, he almost looked relieved that it was real, that it wasn't something he had made up. But then it came back, slow and satisfied, like he had just won. "Yeah, you do," he purred, letting go of my chin. Roman yanked his belt open, shoved his jeans down just enough; "And you're gonna let me fuck you, even though you're scared of what I am." He ran the tip of his cock through my slick folds, teasing, dragging out my torment. "Because you love me too much to stop yourself, don't you?"

I bit down on my lip, eyes squeezing shut-- was this really happening? Was I about to get fucked on the library floor by the one person I had told myself to avoid? My every breath felt painful, yet satisfactory. Fucking masochist.

"Look at me," Roman ordered, voice low with want.

I forced my gaze up, and he looked like he melted at the sight of me-- wrecked, desperate, completely his, like I would always be. "Fuck," Roman groaned, his fingers tightening against my thigh. "Look at you." He reached down to tap the tip of his cock on my clit, making me squirm beneath him with a broken moan. His smirk was positively sinful; "You're shaking, baby."

Of course I was. Asshole. Every nerve in my body was burning with need, with anticipation, with the unbearable weight of Roman's unrelenting teasing.

"So needy," he murmured, almost like he was in awe. "You keep telling yourself this is wrong, but look at where you are..." He gave a shallow thrust, barely pressing inside before pulling back, a cruel little preview that had me gasping; "Letting the big, bad upir fuck you in the back of the library, hm?"

I whimpered, fingers clawing at his arms. I had lost. I had lost.

Roman hummed, pleased with my reaction. "Yeah... that's what I thought," He rocked forward again, just enough for the head to push inside, stretching me open. "You keep fighting me, keep pushing me away, but when I've got you like this? When I'm about to fuck you stupid?" He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear; "You let me do whatever I want."

I moaned, humiliated by how true it was. I should have ran from him, should have stayed away, but here I was, legs spread for him, letting him win once again.

Roman chuckled, the sound low and indulgent. His hand dragged down my stomach, fingers pressing lightly against the bulge of his cock just barely inside me. "Feel that?" He pushed in another inch, making me gasp. "That's not even half of me, baby. You're already losing it."

I grabbed at his shoulders, desperate; "Roman--"

"What?" he taunted, dragging out every syllable. He eased out completely, making me whimper at the loss, before pressing back in achingly slow. "You want more?"

I nodded frantically, arching against him.

Roman groaned, eyes darkening. "Yeah? You want me to fill you up, baby? I have a feeling you missed me," His cock pulsed against my entrance, teasing, teasing, teasing--

I was about to break. "Please," I begged. "If we're gonna fuck, let's-- do it properly."

His smirk widened; "Properly?"

I knew I had messed up by the sound of his words.

Roman held back a mocking laugh-- I could feel it.

"Fine,"

Then, without warning, Roman's fingers dug into my hips as he pulled me further onto him, filling me to the brim. I cried out, my back arching clean off the floor, my entire body tightening around him. Panicked, I grabbed his hands, trying to find some comfort.

And comfort, I got. Roman groaned, dropping his forehead against mine, and it allowed me to wrap my arms around him instead. "Shit--" He stayed still for a second, like he was savoring the feeling of my embrace. His breath was ragged, his cock twitching inside me.

Then he pulled out halfway and pushed into me again, harder this time, knocking the air from my lungs. "That's it," he muttered, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had me seeing stars. His lips found my throat, sucking a mark against my skin, branding me over and over. "Still scared of me?" he panted, dragging his teeth over my pulse.

I was. I was terrified--

But not of this.

Not of him inside me, of the way he stretched me open, of how good he made me feel. Instead, I was scared of how badly I needed him, how even now, knowing what he was, I couldn't pull away. "I just want you," I whispered.

Roman already knew. He always did.

I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could only take what he gave me. Deep, slow, dragging thrusts that had me clenching around him, struggling to hold back the cries of pleasure threatening to escape. His hand clamped over my mouth as he rocked into me harder, faster, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the restricted room of the library.

"God, you really are fucking mine, aren't you?" Roman's voice was thick with something twisted, sinisterly happy. His hand tightened over my mouth, keeping me quiet as he thrust deep, his cock dragging against every sensitive part of me. "You should be running from me... you should hate me."

A broken sound tore from my throat, muffled by his palm-- something told me he hated himself more than I could ever hate him.

"But instead--" His pace slowed, teasing me, fucking me so deep I could barely breathe. "You're letting a goddamn upir fuck you."

I shuddered violently, my nails raking down his back.

Roman's free hand trailed down my side, slow, possessive. Then he pressed his palm flat against my stomach, feeling himself inside me. "I'm not so dangerous right now, hm?" His voice was almost mocking. "Never was, never will be."

Maybe he had a point? Or maybe I was just too horny to function. Something must be wrong with my brain to risk my life for one more quick fuck.

Roman smirked against my skin, listening to the sound of my muffled moans against the palm of his hands. "You love me so much, you'll let me do whatever I want to you," He pulled out almost all the way, making me whimper, before snapping his cock back inside me, and I cried out against his hand. "You can't even help yourself, can you?"

I was falling apart. Why was he so spot on?

His hand loosened over my mouth just enough for me to gasp; "Roman--"

"Shh," he hushed me, his nose brushing against mine. "We have to be quiet, remember?" As if to mock me, he thrust harder, making me bite my lip to swallow my cry. "Wouldn't want to risk getting caught, would you?"

Tears pricked my eyes. "No," I breathed.

"Mmm," he hummed in approval, smug. "There you go, someone's learning... Good girl." Like a reward for my compliance, Roman propped himself up on his knees, guiding my legs over his thighs-- his hand slipped between us, thumb finding my clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles that contrasted the harsh pace of his thrusts.

I gasped, the pleasure building so fast it was unbearable. "Shit, shit--"

"Shh, I got you," he cooed, voice dripping with amusement. "Just let me take care of you, yeah?"

My body trembled, and my vision started going hazy as Roman continued circling my clit with the nicest of pressures, making my toes curl. It didn't matter that every moment felt stolen, like we had borrowed it from the universe and needed to give it back yesterday, nothing mattered-- only this.

I forced myself to breathe, to melt into the feel of him, and when I shifted my hips, taking him deeper, Roman let out the filthiest groan; "That's it," he purred, pulling back just enough to thrust forward again, pushing all the way in until I was full, stretched to the limit. "God, you feel so fucking good--"

I could only whimper, clenching around his cock; "Fuck, Ro-- Rome," My back arched off the floor as I tried my best to fight the incoming wave. How was I supposed to let this end, how was I supposed to let him go? I didn't want this to end, didn't want him to stop; "I don't-- I can't--"

"Yes, you can," Roman cooed, his thumb continuously rubbing steady circles around my clit. "Gonna come for me?"

All my words of protest became one mumble of sounds-- my hand shot down to grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him, yet it simply laid over his hand. I couldn't halt it, not when it felt this good, not when I knew this had to be the last time I felt his hands on me.

There was no way for me to delay it anymore, not when Roman's green eyes locked with mine. His smirk was razor-sharp, knowing, as if he could see every thought unraveling in my head. "That's it," he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. "Let me feel how much you love this... how much you love me."

I whimpered, my whole body tightening, teetering on the edge. Roman's hand on my clit was relentless, coaxing me toward oblivion, and I couldn't hold back anymore when he said the cursed words of the day; "I love you... so, so much,"

My breath hitched, and then I shattered, pleasure crashing through me in waves so intense I thought I might break apart completely.

Roman groaned, his grip on my hips tightening as I clenched around him, dragging him with me. His thrusts turned erratic, desperate, until he buried himself to the hilt with a deep, shuddering gasp. His forehead dropped against mine, breath hot and ragged as he spilled inside me, his entire body trembling from the force of it.

For a moment, there was only silence, except for the sound of our heavy breathing. Roman's hand remained on my stomach, possessive, like he was holding the moment in place, refusing to let it slip away just yet.

... Fuck.

How had I let this happen? How could I have done this? Drained, my lips parted as I stared up at the ceiling with a dead look in my eyes. I was so, so deeply screwed-- for real.

Somehow, I found the strength to embrace Roman, feeling how warm he was against me. I wanted to kiss his cheek, say something sweet, tell him he did good as well, but I couldn't. I listened as he let out a slow sigh, hiding his face in the crook of my neck. His cock was still buried deep inside me, twitching as he pulsed with the aftershocks of his release, and I could feel it-- the way he was still savoring this, still revelling in the fact that he'd won.

Reality hit me all over, like a slap to the face. I had just let him do this. And on top of everything, that fucker came inside of me.

Panic clawed up my throat, and Roman felt the shift immediately. He pulled back slightly, eyes searching mine, his smirk already creeping back. "Running again?" His voice was softer now, but the smug amusement was impossible to miss.

"This was a mistake," I whispered.

Roman's smile flickered, just for a second. It was long enough for me to see the crack, the flash of something raw beneath it, but then it was gone, buried under something colder. "A mistake," he echoed, his tone flat. His fingers twitched against my stomach, pressing down slightly like he was reminding me, reminding both of us, that what we had just done was very real, very irreversible.

Then, he scoffed, shaking his head. "Right... Of course,"

Roman tilted his head, considering me. Then, with agonizing slowness, he pulled out, and I gasped at the loss, my entire body left throbbing and sore. He watched me, his eyes dark with satisfaction, as if he was committing to the sight of what he'd done to me, how I had trembled beneath him, completely ruined.

Then, with a wicked smirk, he brought his fingers to my core, pressing against the mess he'd left inside of me like he was trying to push it deeper-- I whimpered, grabbing at his hands to stop him, yet he wafted my hands away with precision.

"Messy, messy girl," he cooed, shaking his head, pretending to be disappointed. "You even let me cum inside..." His grin widened, sharp as a blade; "Think you'll ever be clean of me again?"

I shivered violently.

Never.

Roman exhaled, watching me with a look I couldn't place; it was somewhere between pride and something deeply possessive. He continued to slowly pump his fingers into me like he wanted me to feel just how deep he had gotten, how much of himself he had forced into me. "You're really gonna lie there, all fucked out and dripping with me, and say it was a mistake?" Roman let out a breathy laugh, but there was no humor in it. "That's cute."

I swallowed hard, but my throat was too tight to speak. I should've run when I had the chance. Now, I could only whimper, torn between shame and unbearable pleasure.

Roman's smirk was gone now. Whatever amusement he had left was fading fast, replaced by the hurt beneath the tough act. His jaw ticked, and for a moment, he just stared at me, his expression unreadable; "Say something," His fingers curled inside me, pushing, teasing, coaxing me back to the edge. He was trying to drown out my thoughts, make me forget.

Fuck. "This was a mistake," I echoed, speaking the truth brewing in my chest. "Wait, don't-- Wait--" My hands tried to reach for his once again, to get his fingers out of me, but to no avail.

Frustrated, Roman's free hand shot out, gripping my jaw-- not rough enough to bruise, but firm enough to hold me there, to force my eyes to his. It immediately made my heart jump with fright; his pupils were blown wide, his irises burning with frustration. "Are we really going back to me flirting with the cheerleaders and you staring from across the hall?" he hissed. "We can't. You can't. You love me."

My eyes welled with tears, and my hands gripped the arm Roman had on my jaw in protest. I could hear the hurt in his voice, hear the plea behind the tough words. However, when he curled his fingers inside me, fingering me with the mess he had left inside, my stomach twisted like a phone cord, tangled and knotted. "This was a mistake--"

"Stop," he snarled, voice low and sharp; "fucking saying that."

Roman's fingers curled inside me again, pressing against a spot that made me shudder despite the shame clawing at my chest. He was punishing me, making sure I felt everything, making sure I couldn't ignore the way my body betrayed me.

"No-- no," I whimpered, turning my face away, but Roman caught my chin, forcing my gaze back to him. His expression was unreadable now, somewhere between wanting to break me and needing me to stay whole. "You think you can just go back to pretending none of this happened?" His breath was warm against my lips, mocking me with its closeness. "That you can just walk away, run back to your sad little life of being obsessed with me, and pretend we don't belong together?"

My stomach twisted violently at the words, and my heart hammered against my ribs. "Please, no--" I whispered, but even I could hear how weak it sounded. I was too overstimulated, too broken. "I don't-- I don't have another one in me--"

"No, you do," he commanded. "You do, baby, you do."

No.

No, no, no.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "You can fight it all you want," he murmured, his voice dark with satisfaction. "But you forget how well I know you."

I shook my head-- or at least, I tried to. Roman's grip tightened, holding me in place, forcing me to meet his gaze. I clenched my jaw, fighting against the pleasure, fighting against him, but Roman's grip didn't ease. If anything, the weight of his hand on my jaw only grew heavier, more possessive, more suffocating. His fingers were still buried inside me, still stroking into me with a deliberate, cruel precision on the library floor, despite my pleas.

"You need me," he said, like it was a fact, like it was already written in stone. "And I need you, and we need to be together." His fingers pressed deeper, drawing another helpless whimper from my lips.

Despite my efforts to stop him, it was torturously good being filled over and over by Roman's fingers, the warmth of his cum still sending shivers up my spine. "I need time!" I cried, squirming at the edge of my impending orgasm. "I need to-- think!--"

"Think?"

"Decide!"

Roman's smirk widened. His fingers moved in slow, devastating strokes, teasing, coaxing, forcing my body closer and to the edge whether I wanted it or not. "You can't be without me," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss against my jaw. "You don't want to be without me. What is there to decide?"

"That's not!--" My voice broke as pleasure crashed through me, my back arching despite my best efforts. "Roman, please!"

Finally, he relented.

"Fine... fine,"

He had gotten what he wanted, after all.

For me to think it over, to give us another chance.

"You get a week," he challenged, his thumb pressing down on my clit in one slow, cruel motion as a reward for my cooperation.

My legs gave in to a tremble, and my body churned with pleasure and anger; I was beyond overstimulated. "You son of a-- manipulative piece of shit, motherfucker!--" I had no idea what came over me when I balled my fist and slammed it against his chest, losing control over my senses. "Fuck-- you, fuck, fuck!--"

Roman's hand on my chin tightened, pushing me down to the floor with harshness I hadn't seen in him before; I felt like a dog getting trained to not misbehave. "Take it," he hissed, pressing harder against my sweet spot, the sound of his fingers fucking his cum deeper into me filling the room along with my cries. "Take it." It got to the point where he let go of my chin and covered my mouth with his palm, drowning out my sobs of pleasure.

I tried to fight it, I really did-- but Roman's fingers worked me open, pushed me higher, until the tension snapped and I was falling, tumbling over the edge for the second time with a ragged, broken sob.

Roman watched me the whole time. He didn't let up, didn't stop until I was gasping, shaking, completely undone beneath him. Then, and only then, did his touch slow.

My orgasm had brought me to tears. Big, heavy tears. They burned in the corner of my eyes, and I wished for them to burn into his brain as well, until it hit me that Roman got off on this. I knew this. I knew he liked this. He had simply been nice with me up until now.

In silence, his hand left my jaw, sliding down to rest against my throat, his fingers brushing against my racing pulse. They lingered there, light but possessive, feeling the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat beneath his touch. Roman's breathing was uneven, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something, but the words never came. Instead, he just watched me, watched the way my body trembled, the way I gasped for air, the way my tears streaked down my heated skin.

Roman's thumb ghosted over skin, and this time, there was no cruelty in the motion, no smugness. Just something quiet. Something careful.

"Shh," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "You're okay."

I flinched at the softness in his voice, and at the way his other hand brushed a damp strand of hair from my forehead. It felt too much like comfort. Too much like care. And maybe it was... but it was also so twisted. Because it came from him. From the person who had just broken me apart and put me back together in the way he wanted.

Roman's touch trailed down my cheek, hesitant now, like he was treading carefully over thin ice. His fingers stroked away a stray tear, and for a moment, I thought I saw regret flicker in his eyes. Or maybe I was just desperate to see it?

"You don't have to cry," Roman murmured, like he didn't understand.

The words made something snap inside me.

My hand moved before I could think. A sharp crack echoed through the room as my palm struck his face, the impact snapping his head to the side.

Silence.

Roman didn't move. He didn't touch his cheek, didn't flinch, didn't even breathe for a moment. His jaw tightened, and his hands curled into fists at his sides, but he didn't strike back. He would never. Instead, he just sat there, staring at me, his expression unreadable.

My chest heaved, my whole body trembling, but I didn't look away. I couldn't look away.

We sat here like that-- neither of us speaking, neither of us moving, just locked in this unbearable, suffocating silence.

And then Roman licked his lips, slow and deliberate.

"Okay," he finally said, voice low and even. "Okay."

Now, he understood. Something told me he was even waiting for me to do it again.

But...

My chest heaved with my incoming breath, and I gave in to the sobs building in my body while I looked around to check where my clothes were. I wanted to get dressed. I felt too naked like this, too visible, too vulnerable.

Roman let out a slow breath, his tongue swiping over the corner of his mouth where my slap had landed. His cheek was flushed, the shape of my palm still burning against his skin, but he didn't move to retaliate. Instead, he shifted closer, his hand reaching out-- not forcefully, not possessively, but gently. Like he wanted to soothe me, like he hated that I was hurting.

"Baby--"

"No, you don't talk right now!" I snapped, jerking away before he could touch me. The cold air of the library hit my bare skin as I scrambled to sit up, my legs unsteady beneath me. My whole body ached from him, from everything, and I felt raw, exposed. I needed to get away.

Roman didn't try to stop me. He just watched as I grabbed my clothes, slipping them on with stiff, shaking hands. My movements were jerky, fuelled by the overwhelming storm in my chest. I let out a groan as I realized I had forfeited my underwear-- was his cum going to be dripping down the leg of my jeans all day?

"You got what you wanted," I spat, not looking at him. "I'll think about it. You win."

Roman swallowed hard as he pulled his pants up, fixing his belt. His throat bobbed, and his jaw clenched, but he didn't argue. "You wanted this too," he mumbled, almost like he was trying to convince himself. "... Right?"

I ignored him, pulling on my shirt and yanking it down over my thighs before shoving my feet back into my shoes. I just needed to get out of here, away from him, away from the heavy scent of him still clinging to my skin.

But before I could storm out, Roman called out my name; "I love you," he echoed. "And you love me. Think of it as simple as that."

I should have kept walking, I should have ignored him, but something in the way he said my name, so quiet, so desperate, made me freeze. "I didn't want to make you feel like this," he admitted, his voice rough, almost ashamed. "I just... I don't know how to be without you."

That was the problem. Neither of us did.

I turned halfway, my pulse hammering. If only that was simple. Roman's eyes were on me, dark and unreadable in the dim light of the library, but I could see it clear as day; the relief flickering beneath the guilt. Because despite everything, despite how fucked-up this was, I was still here. I hadn't run away. I hadn't told him to go to hell. And that meant there was still a chance, right?

I hated that. I hated that I was standing on the edge of something dangerous, something that could ruin me all over again, or even worse, get me killed.

But the worst part?

I wasn't sure if I wanted to step back or let myself fall.

"You might not have to be," I breathed, before reaching for the door.

I had a week.

I had until next Friday.

One week.

Roman Godfrey hated hanging up the phone after talking past midnight. Roman Godfrey loved comparing the size of his hands with mine.

Roman Godfrey hated being apart from me.

Roman Godfrey loved me.

(a/n: MY GOOOOOOOD WHY IS ROMAN SO STUPID😭 someone save my boy istgggg😭 ANYWAY, thank you for reading all of this if you got this far, MWAH🥹💕)

here are all the chapters!<3: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14

loveliest taglist of all time:

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium @pecxiebu

@mil88691 @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog

@lilithskywalker @likecherriesinthespring @sadheartjellyfish @vadersangel

@shehangsbrightly @burningmiraclekingdom @dollforaswan @austinswhitewolf

@nico-velvet @shiiiii-okayyyy @theantagonistalwaysdies @blackbluerose666

@obexes @rosecoloureddudez @amoure020 @itsaeasykill

@succubustacy @carmillavalentine @scarledy @chaneloberlin62727

@belovedmoony @lokitargaryen @vienneviennaxx @ellie1725

@taintandviolent @sweatyconnoisseurstrawberry @amidthechaos

#roman godfrey #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x reader #x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfiction #oneshot #bill skarsgard #angst #fanfic #highschool!au #hemlock grove fanfiction #DAMN I LOVE WRITING NASTY SMUT AAAHHH #and letha.... when I catch you....#smut

262 notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Woof woof grrrrrr

Content: Dub-Con, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex (reader giving)

The bar is exactly as busy as you’re hoping for when you get there. Quiet and intimate, low lights, a hum of conversation but not overwhelmingly loud. The bar is mostly full but not crowded. As luck would have it, you instantly spot a couple empty stools towards the back.

You glide across the establishment, head held high and shoulders back. Pick a seat and smooth your skirt under you to perch. The bartender comes to you instantly; you pick something sweet and fruity (delighted that it’ll match your outfit.)

It takes up until they slide it across to you — a tab opened with your card — that the insecurity starts to set in. What if no one is interested? What if Soap doesn’t show up?

You sip at your drink and pull out your phone, reading your latest book. If nothing else… at least you’re getting out? God.

“This isn’t your usual scene.”

Oh. Oh this is worse than being ignored all night and going home alone. So much worse. Just barely manage not to curse aloud as you turn to your ex.

“Justin…” you start, realize you don’t know where to go from there. “Hi.”

“It’s been a minute, huh?”

You look him up and down. Designer everything, of course, brands printed all over him. No taste, though, none of it is cohesive. You wouldn’t be caught dead at his side ever again.

“How’s your arm?”

His expression flickers, hand unconsciously going to the spot where Johnny tried to tear it off.

“Fine. Thanks.” He gives you a long look. Unfriendly. “You know people have had dogs put down for less.”

You run your tongue over your teeth, fear and anger twisting up in your stomach like hot lava. How dare he threaten your boy like that?! Wish Johnny was here now to take another chunk out of him.

“Not when people trespass on private property,” you reply coldly, eyes narrowing.

He puts his hands up, laughing awkwardly. “Well, now. I wouldn’t call it — let’s just say we’re even, yeah?”

“For that at least.”

You take another big sip of your drink. Find it empty. Make hopeful eye contact with the bartender and nod for another when they gesture questioningly. There’s a reason you love this bar.

“Right… listen, about that, luv…”

“There you are, bonnie!”

You perk up despite yourself. Says something that the creep who sexually harasses you in public is better company than your ex-fiancé. Something zings through you when you realize Soap is bigger than your Justin (hopefully in every aspect). Taller, wider, more muscular. Better jawline and prettier eyes, too.

“Tucked up back here like this,” Soap mock scolds, shouldering past Justin. You let out a little squeak as he scoops you off your barstool, hand just under your ass for a hold. “Almost didn’t see you, hen.”

“H-Hi,” you say, arms going around his neck automatically. He presses his nose to your collarbone and audibly inhales. You shiver.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he continues, voice dropping lower.

He sets you down on your stool again with a wink, then takes the stool next to yours.

“Oi, do you mind?” Justin snaps, bumped out of the way by Soap’s bulk.

“I do, actually.” The look Soap levels him is sharp, cold. Bloody killer. Instantly reminds you of all the alarm bells that normally play in your head when he’s around. “Don’t like puffed up knobs like you around my girl.”

You bite your tongue on a protest that you’re not his girl. Wouldn’t be particularly helpful right about now. You’ll correct him later.

“Your girl,” Justin scoffs. “She was mine before she was ever — hey!”

Soap’s got his fist in the front of Justin’s shirt, jerking him nearly off his feet. A few heads turn. You feel hot with embarrassment, skin prickling at so many eyes on your little trio of stupidity.

“Woah!” You yelp. “Soap!”

You grab his forearm (remind yourself not to get distracted by the muscles cording it) and lean into his line of sight. The near-murderous glint in his blue eyes softens, though there’s still an unnatural sheen to them. Something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand on end.

“Soap, let him go,” you say, quiet. “I like this bar, don’t get us kicked out… please?”

He hums, instantly drops Justin to cup his hand around the back of your neck, fingers edging into your hair. His palm feels so big and harm, a little rough with callouses. You try not to think about how easy it would be for him to manipulate your head however he wants…

“Like when you say ‘please,’ hen,” Soap purrs.

You swallow, feel your cheeks flushing as you say, “Then… you should sit down and have a drink with me. Please?”

He grins, crooked and a little mean. “Anythin’ fer you.”

He drops into his stool again like a king on his throne. You perch gingerly on your own, waving Justin away like an annoying fly. Don’t even look as he slinks off, too busy staring at Soap. Who’s… busy staring at you. As always.

“You never called,” he drawls after ordering. Whiskey, neat. The bartender sets your new drink in front of you; you start sipping to gather your thoughts and nerve. “Lucky I happened to stop in here, eh? Imagine if I’d walked past…”

You grimace a bit. A fantastic bit of luck, that. Thought you’re still not sure what type of luck.

Definitely not going to admit to him that you didn’t call on purpose, wanting plausible deniability if you did see him. As if trying to get him under your skirt by happenstance is better than calling him to do it.

“Why did you stop in here?” You ask, looking to change the subject.

“Could smell you,” he answers, eyes twinkling.

You wrinkle your nose, kick at his shin. Want to blame it on the alcohol, but you drink red wine most nights of the week. This is just… placebo and desperation.

“You’re so nasty, you know that?” You huff.

He arches his eyebrows, grins wolfishly. “Could show you how nasty I can be,” he offers.

You wrinkle your nose even as your cheeks burn. That’s exactly what you’re hoping for.

“You can’t keep talking to me like that,” you complain.

He snorts in amusement, hooking his fingers beneath your stool and tugging you closer. Until your knees are between both of his, jeans brushing against your thighs.

“Here’s the thing, darlin’,” he murmurs, low and private. “I think you like when I talk to you like that.”

You swallow audibly, hands dropping down to twist nervously in your lap.

“I think it makes your pretty pussy all wet and swollen when I get all mean like this,” he continues. You shake your head; his palm clamps down on your thigh beneath your skirt, thumb sweeping back and forth over the sensitive skin. “Think she’s fuckin’ aching fer me to make good on all my promises. And you can get all shy and sweet here, but I bet all your cunt wants is to be mounted and bred like a bitch in heat.”

And he’s right. Of course he’s fucking right. That goddamn bad guy fantasy and your shallow, needy pussy, and Soap’s stupid fucking everything.

You feel like you’re about to explode when the bartender sets his whiskey down, snapping the tension like a rubber band. Feel dizzy as you lean away, sipping desperately at your own drink in an attempt to cool off. He gives you all over maybe fifteen second before opening that sinful mouth again.

“So how about it, bonnie? Did I hit the mark?”

You feel frustrated tears pricking at your eyes. Blink and look away at your nervous hands.

“I-I don’t even know you,” you mutter. “You could be dangerous.”

“I am dangerous, baby,” he replies, “just not to you.”

You shake your head. “You’re awful.”

“Mm and you want me to do awful things to you.”

You sigh through your nose, that little logical voice blaring again. He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to use you.

(Would that be so bad, if you go in knowing it?)

A tug at your necklace startles you out of your thoughts, his finger hooked beneath the pendant. You lean in with a noise of protest, afraid he’s going to break it. Gasp as your lips brush his.

“Whatever’s goin’ on in that pretty head, let me fuck it out of you.”

You shudder, hand balanced on his thick, muscular thigh. Can feel a twitch near your thumb. Holy shit.

“I’ll be so good to you, princess,” he promises. “Let me be good to you.”

You suck in a breath. Now or never.

Well, if nothing else, maybe you’ll let Johnny eat him if he’s turns out to be a bastard.

“Prove it,” you breathe.

He guides your chin up, eyes blazing with hunger.

“Yeah?” He asks.

You blink, muster up your courage. “You heard me. Or are you back out?”

His expression goes deliciously dark. “Oh, I’ll prove it, lass. You just sit right here and I’ll get us sorted.”

His fingers slip just that last little bit up and start teasing at the lace of your panties. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to sip at your cocktail while he flags down the bartender. His nails scrape lightly across the fabric over your clit as gets your card and throws down enough cash to cover all three drinks.

When he pulls his hand away, you have to bite back a whimper.

“If you don’t get up right now, I’m haulin’ you out of here over my shoulder,” he growls in your ear.

You’re up in an instant, smoothing down your skirt. His hand stays glued to your lower back as he ushers you out to the lot. Sits you down in the passenger seat of a black pickup, barely waits for you to buckle yourself in before peeling out of the lot.

You’re about to tell him your address when you hear the clink of a belt, a zipper. Eyes wide as they drop to his pants, to him fishing a huge, hard cock out of jeans.

“C’mere,” he near snarls.

“Soap, that’s not— mph!”

The head of his cock catches on your teeth, but that only seems to spur him on, hips twitching.

“Gonna ruin that pretty makeup, your pretty hair. Gettin’ all dolled up like that for any fucking wanker to see.”

He twists his fingers in your hair and presses you down, your cheek rubbing against the shaft. He feels huge and unnaturally hot. You press your thighs together as you imagine how it’s going to feel inside of you.

“This isn’t safe,” you complain, mouth open as you gasp against the flushed skin.

He curses, tugs you up so that your lips press against the head, already dripping. Your eyes widen in the darkness, shocked and flattered that you’ve already worked him up this much.

“Not gonnae let anything happen,” he promises, “but you need to convince me not to spank this pretty ass black and blue.”

You squeal as he releases you hair just to deliver a harsh smack to one ass cheek, the sting making you clench up.

“H-hey!”

“You want me to slap that pretty pussy too? Bet I could make you cum just tapping that little clit over and over again. That what you want, slag?”

“N-no!”

“Then show me.”

You seal your mouth around the head, sucking and licking at the precum beading at the tip. Try to brace yourself, nearly gag as he hits a pothole and shoves into your throat. It’s noisy and messy, eyes watering from how thick and deep he is already, not letting you up for more than brief gasps of air.

“Fuck, that’s it baby. Work your tongue just like that…” he groans.

You lose track of everything but trying not to gag, his threat lingering with each obscene slurp and twist of your tongue. He tastes better than you expected, and the scent of him surrounds you. Musk and pine, something familiar that niggles at your cock-drunk brain. Can’t be bothered to work it out though, not when he’s tugging your hair. Not when he comes to an abrupt stop and you deepthroat him.

He yanks you off with a near-animal growl. You whine, scrambling to brace yourself and panting. Your head feels foggy. Know your panties are soaked through; shocked you’re not dripping down your leg. If you were sitting properly, you’d probably leave a wet mark on the seat.

You moan as his mouth crashes into yours, tongue sweeping inside like he owns it. He licks the taste of himself off your tongue, hands fumbling your seatbelt off, dragging you over the center console to straddle his lap.

You gasp at the sight of his rock hard, angry cock next to your pretty dress, pressed up against your stomach. Show just how deep he’ll be inside your guts.

“Fuck, look’it that,” he groans rutting against your stomach. “Oh you were made to be mine.”

You scream as he scoops you up, stepping out of the truck with you over his shoulder.

“Soap!” You shout. “Soap, put me down, my dog—”

“I’m your fuckin’ dog,” he replies.

“No, seriously, he’s protective—”

He grabs the spare out of its hiding place and shoves the door open. You brace for angry barking and growls, but hear nothing. Soap doesn’t even pause. He just kicks the door shut and storms down the hall to your room, like he knows exactly where he’s going.

He drops you onto the bed, watches your breasts bounce as you settle on the mattress. He strips off int he blink of any eyes while you’re still catching your breath.

“W-wait, wait, my—”

He flips you onto your stomach, hikes your ass up high in the air. You squirm, try to crawl away, but he slaps your ass so hard you see stars. He places his palm flat between your shoulder blades to bin you still.

“S-Soap,” you whine as he shoves your skirt up over your ass, palms a cheek. Spreads you open just to let the flesh jiggle back into place.

“Fuck,” he growls. It sounds off. Sounds deeper, rougher now.

“Just-just slow down…!”

He yanks your panties aside, plunges two thick fingers into you. You squeal, legs kicking uselessly against the mattress.

“Oh, you’re plenty ready,” he says, dark, almost to himself. “All ready to be mated and bred. All mine.”

That finally starts to break the lust-drunk haze. Open your mouth to tell him absolutely not, it’s been way to long and your need to be stretched—

He forces his entire cock into you with one brutal thrust. You scream, cry, try to flatten yourself against the bed but he won’t even let you do that, muttering about “presenting” properly. It hurts but it feels good, know that’s it’s just too much.

“Soap,” you sob, “y-you can’t— you have to… I’m-I’m gonna break.”

“Shhhh, no you’re not,” he soothes, grinding a bit deeper. Your eyes roll back, keening through your teeth. “You were made for me. You’re all for me.”

You shake your head, but he just chuckles.

“Yes, baby, yes. You let me in, you kept me. Now we belong to each other.”

“Soap, w-what are you talking about…?” you manage, fists tight in the sheets. He draws back once and slams into you, hard, mean.

Leans down so he’s rumbling directly in your ear.“‘S Johnny, hen.”

You blink, confused and overwhelmed. “W-what… n-no. No, Johnny is my….”

“Woof.”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #woof woof johnny #woof woof au

3K notes · View notes

briefinquiries · 8 months ago

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Promise You'll Call

Prompt: hi first i just want to say i love you writing so much. Do you think you could write something where luke finds out the reader’s significant other is harming them (mentally or physically)? I understand this is a rough topic but i was just going through a hard time with flashbacks. I understand if you can’t, thank you!

Word count: 7k (idk how this got to be so long)

Warnings: DV mention (in detail), blood tw

A/N: ayyyyooo, it's been forever since i've posted, but enjoy! i wanted to post, so i haven't proof read yet, so please excuse any grammatical mistakes, I'll go back and fix tomorrow :)

Luke honestly didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It just so happened that he was still in his truck, finishing up the burnt bagel he’d made in a rush this morning when you pulled into the parking garage. At first, Luke didn’t recognize that it was you in the black BMW that stopped in the middle of the garage, right behind his own truck. But when he peeked through his rearview mirror, he saw you sitting in the passenger seat, tucking a curtain of hair behind your ear.

Luke’s stomach flipped, the same way it did every time he saw you.

Except this time, he actually felt guilty for it, because he was pretty sure the guy driving the car was your boyfriend. Luke was new to the team in the last year, and while he’d done a pretty good job getting to know everyone at the BAU, he still hadn’t met partners or family yet. You were one of the few agents who never talked about your personal life at work.

But even though Luke couldn’t see the man driving the car, as soon as you cracked open the passenger side door, he certainly heard him.

Was it even considered eavesdropping if the entire parking garage could hear?

“I’m not done talking!” The man’s voice echoed across the entire garage, causing Luke to straighten in his seat.

“Will you lower your voice?” You snapped back in a hushed tone, before looking around the space, clearly embarrassed.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!”

“The whole city is going to hear you, Justin, please.”

“I don’t care if they do– get back in the fucking car!”

Something in Luke’s chest began boiling at the sound of his tone. Did he always speak to you that way? He fought back the urge to peel himself out of his truck. You were his coworker– not his girlfriend. It wasn’t his place to knock this guy down a few pegs, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“I have nothing else to say to you right now–”

“Good, don’t talk. Fucking listen for once in your life!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said, voice eerily calm. It was like you were almost used to this kind of fighting– like you knew the exact steps to take to attempt de-escalating him. “I have to get to work. We’ll talk about this later.”

“If you shut that fucking door, you’re walking home. I swear to–” but the man’s voice was abruptly cut off by you shutting the door.

Luke secretly felt proud as he watched you turn and walk away from the BMW without looking back.

Suddenly, music blared through the speakers of the car before Luke heard tires squealing while the car drove away. Luke remained in place while he heard your footsteps fade into the distance, not wanting to embarrass you further or let you know he’d been heard the entire conversation that just played out.

But while he gave you a moment to catch the elevator without him, Luke didn’t like the feeling that settled in his stomach. If your boyfriend acted like that in the middle of the bureaus parking garage, what the hell was he like behind closed doors?

…

You fought back tears for the entire elevator ride. Thank God no one got into the lift with you, so you at least had a moment of peace before having to pull everything together.

Justin woke up mad– again. That had been a regular occurrence for the last year. And for the last month, he’d been convinced you were cheating on him. With zero evidence aside from a “hunch” he was apparently going on, there was no amount of convincing or location sharing or reminding him that your job came with sporadic hours that would change his mind. And things were getting worse. Each day it felt like he was angrier– more out of control. And each day you told yourself that you could handle it. You were literally trained on how to de-escalate murderers, for God’s sake. But this morning, when you woke up to not one, but four flat tires on the car you parked in the garage, you knew things were escalating again.

As the elevator climbed, your phone suddenly pinged in your pocket. You pulled it out to read the text back from your mother. You’d reached out to her earlier, letting her know what you’d suspected– that Justin had slashed your tires so that you couldn’t take your own car to work.

Mom: He wouldn’t do that. I know you are going through a rough patch, but Justin’s a good man. Did you reach out to that couple’s therapist I told you about?

You let out a sigh.

Typical.

Justin had worked at the local hospital with your father before he retired. As a world-wide renowned cardiovascular surgeon with a strong handshake and charismatic demeanor, he could do no wrong in your parent’s eyes.

In the few instances you actually had reached out to them for support in the last year, the burden always fell back on you. What had you done to piss him off? What were you doing to mitigate the situation? You should have learned by now not to reach out to either one of them. You wouldn’t get the response you wanted.

The elevator slowly climbed and you knew you had to pull it together. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You reached the fifth floor and stepped out of the elevator, trying to forget about everything that had just happened.

Within an hour, a new case rolled in. You sat around the round table and listened to Emily give the rundown while Garcia clicked through slides of gruesome crime scenes she blatantly refused to even glimpse at . You tried to pay attention– to compartmentalize your home life like you had always been so good at doing. But as soon as you heard that the case was in Idaho– across the country, worry began creeping back inside of you. One of the biggest problems that Justin had was your constant travel for work. Although he was allowed to put in consistent, 16-hour days at the hospital, he got upset every time you told him where your next case was.

Which, honestly, you understood. When you took the job with the BAU, you never expected to have much of a life outside of it. You were gone more than you were home, and you knew that sort of lifestyle wasn’t for everyone. Except when you met him, Justin had known what you did for work. You didn’t lie or keep it a secret. He said he was okay with the traveling and the long hours. Until he wasn’t.

Suddenly, there was a gentle tap on your shoulder. Every thought racing through your mind blew away and you refocused on the present moment.

“Everything okay?” It was Luke asking.

You looked around to realize that everyone else was packing up their belongings to board the jet. Turning to face Luke, you nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Just daydreaming, I guess.”

“Daydreaming with those crime scenes in the background?” he asked, nodding towards the gruesome picture still up on the screen. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that.”

You let out a breath of laughter. Luke hadn’t been on the team for long, but you realized within a few weeks of knowing him that he always knew how to make people laugh– no matter what was going on in the world around you. That was one of the many reasons he fit in so effortlessly with the team.

“We can do a mindfulness class sometime,” you joked.

He smiled, dimples popping from his dark, smooth skin. “I’d attend consistently.”

Something fluttered in your stomach.

You just chalked it up to stress and nerves.

…

Luke was supposed to be reviewing the case on the flight. Instead, he couldn’t stop watching you. Out of all the open seats, you chose one right across from him. You had the file open on your lap while your eyes scanned the page. Luke could tell you weren’t reading either, though, because the jet had already been airborne for almost half an hour and you hadn’t flipped the page.

Meanwhile, Reid, who was to Luke’s right, had already read the entire file, front to back, probably three times by now.

“Can you give me the Sparknotes version?” Luke leaned over and asked him.

“What’s Sparknotes?” Reid asked, no hint of humor in his voice.

Luke’s jaw fell open. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?”

“I don’t really think that intelligence can be measured or quantified in the way humans have tried to in the past. Technically I have an eidetic memory, which allows me to recall information with accurate precision. Meaning I’d actually have to see the information once to be able to recall it. I’ve never seen a Sparknote… or whatever you called it.”

A smirk spread across your lips, your eyes darting up to meet Luke’s.

Luke shook his head in disbelief, offering you a small smile before turning back to Spencer. He’d been with the team nearly a year now and he still hadn’t gotten used to Reid’s demeanor. He wondered if he ever would.

“You never had to Google the summary of a book when you were younger?”

Reid gave Luke a perplexed look. “Why would I do that if I have the book in front of me?”

“Because it’s faster.”

“I can read–”

“20 thousand words a minute,” Rossi interrupted as he walked by with an empty cup of coffee. “Yeah, we know, kid.”

He placed a free hand on Luke’s shoulder, patting it gently. “I have no idea what prompted this conversation, but trust me when I say it’s not worth it.”

Luke heard you stifle a laugh as Rossi walked past.

…

You’d been on edge the entire plane ride. Justin never responded to your message, letting him know you’d be away for at least the next couple of days on a case. Maybe he was in the OR today, or maybe the hospital’s cell service was just spotty.

Or maybe he really was just that mad at you.

You knew the way he treated you was wrong. You recognized the red flags that had been staring you right in the face. But slashing your tires? Maybe your mom was right– maybe there was another explanation. Because no matter how much he yelled, or got in your face, or tried to intimidate you, you really didn’t think there was any way he could do that.

You hated being this distracted while you worked. Emily was having to repeat instructions for you, JJ was throwing you worried glances, Spencer had asked three times now if you were okay… It was like you were the one being profiled in Idaho.

Of course that wasn’t really the case, though. You were in Sun Valley because of a string of murdered women, each left dumped and discarded in ditches off the parkway. Each with ligature markings around their necks. Each with evidence of sexual assault. And each deserving of your undivided attention.

You tried your best to give it to them. But in reality, when the case finally wrapped up six days after you’d arrived, you knew that everyone had picked up your slack.

And while you were grateful to be part of a team that could pick up the slack of others, you hated that you had to utilize it.

‘Unbelievable.’

That had been the only message you received from Justin the entire week you were away. You sent a practical novel back– trying to apologize and explain your side. Then you tried calling at least twice a day. But each time you went straight to his voicemail. Normally, space wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Except the jet was about to land back at Quantico, and you were terrified of what was next.

Not to mention you had no ride home.

“Hey,” a soothing voice suddenly said, stirring you from your thoughts.

When you glanced up, you saw Luke gesturing towards the open seat across from you.

“You mind? Everyone else is asleep.”

For a moment, you looked around the jet and noticed that Luke was right. Practically everyone was sprawled out or curled up against a window, passed out. You couldn’t blame them. It had been a rough case. If circumstances were different and you weren’t currently overthinking everything in your life, you’d probably be passed out too.

Eventually you turned back to Luke and nodded. “You couldn't sleep?” You asked him.

He shook his head. “Nah. I never sleep on planes. I think it’s a control-thing. I can never calm myself down enough to actually sleep.”

You frowned. “Now that you say that, I’ve never actually seen you sleep on the jet.”

“And you probably never will.”

You grinned back. “Does that mean I’ll never get to know if Luke Alvez snores?”

“I’m afraid that information is classified,” he smirked.

“Such a tease.”

Luke let out a low chuckle before casually leaning forward in his seat. “I did want to see if everything was okay, though.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, probably sounding too defensive.

He shrugged. “I mean you just didn’t seem yourself this week. Not in a bad way or anything– just off.”

Shit. You knew it had been noticeable. But even still, the small part of you that was hoping it wasn’t deflated at Luke’s words. You actually debated telling him everything, which was so out of the norm for you lately. Ever since you and Justin had been having problems, you’d turned into a shell of who you used to be– you never hung out with Penn, Emily, or JJ anymore. You never had time for getting your ass kicked at chess on the jet with Reid, because you were too busy worrying if Justin was mad at you for leaving. You never joined everyone at Rossi’s evening dinners because you felt guilty for spending nights that you were home away from the house and Justin would never go with you.

Suddenly, the harsh reality slapped you right in the face: You didn’t like who you were becoming. You didn’t like who you were when you were with Justin. The thought made you want to curl up and hide from the world– from Luke. But there was something about the way he looked at you– so earnest and intentional, like he was hanging onto every word, like he actually wanted to be someone you could trust, that felt prevented you from doing so.

“You’re chewing on your lip,” Luke pointed out. “That’s how I always know when you’re overthinking.”

You relaxed your jaw instantly. That’s how he always knew? How often was Luke paying attention to your moods and mannerisms? The thought made something flutter in your stomach, but not in the anxious way it had been fluttering recently. This was softer– less scary.

“Stupid profilers,” you muttered under your breath, desperate to break through whatever tension was boiling between the two of you.

It was enough to earn a chuckle from Luke. “We are pretty annoying, aren’t we?” He sat back in his chair, cracking his knuckles casually. “You know, my last two girlfriends have broken up with me because of this job. One was serious– the last one, not so much. But still. They said it was too demanding– that I couldn’t make them a priority. I don’t know if you remember the Orlando case last fall. The one with–”

“The fourteen year old boy. We were too late to save him, but we got his sister,” you finished for him. “I remember.” Not only did you remember, but that very same case had been burned into your brain for months.

Luke nodded. “Yeah. Well, when we got back from that case, that’s when she broke up with me. She said she was trying to deal with me being gone all the time. But if I couldn’t even be present when I was home, she was done. God, I had nightmares about that case for weeks– still do sometimes.”

You gazed at him sympathetically. Unfortunately, his story wasn’t that out of the norm. Aside from you, everyone on the team in a relationship was already married. Once you had a solid, established relationship, most times it was doable. But the reality was, it was hard to date someone and be part of the BAU.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Don’t be,” he waved you off. “They were right. I put my job first. And I’d like to think that the person I’m supposed to be with would understand how important this work is to me, even if each case takes a little piece from me.”

You thought about Justin– always criticizing, always making comments and remarks about how much you worked. You thought about the last few weeks and all the late nights you’d sat and done unnecessary paper at your desk just to avoid going home to him.

“Or maybe you’d actually want to make the person you’re supposed to be with the priority,” you suggested softly without meeting Luke’s gaze.

Luke had just been so vulnerable with you– telling you about his relationship problems like you were someone he could confide in. And the scary part was, you liked it. You liked being someone he came to with these types of things. You wished he’d do it more.

Justin never confided in you– never let you confide in him, either. You stared intently down at your lap and wondered what it would feel like to have someone who would.

“Justin and I– we’re having some issues.”

Finally, you dared to look up at Luke. His brown eyes looked black in the dimly lit jet, but they still glistened as he listened. “He’s just so mad at me,” you whispered, voice faltering. You’d barely said anything, but you could already feel all of the emotions you’d been masking and forcing down start to bubble towards the surface. “All the time. And I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know if I want to do anything about it.”

Luke leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees while he wound his fingers together. “I heard him when he dropped you off in the garage the other day,” Luke said honestly. Instantly, you felt heat rise to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I swear, I was just waiting in my car because I was early and well–”

You took a shaky breath, embarrassed beyond belief. “Anyone in the vicinity would have heard him that day.”

Luke’s voice lowered. “Does he always talk to you like that?”

Yes, you thought.

“No. That was just a bad morning.”

Luke nodded, but pursed his lips like he didn’t quite believe you. “I know it isn’t my place, but you don’t deserve that. I mean, fuck, no one does. But especially you.”

You smiled softly, trying to believe that he was right– that you didn’t deserve Justin’s harsh comments or anger. And on some level, you knew you didn’t. But another part of you always wondered why you didn’t try harder– why you didn’t care if he ended things or not.

“Thanks Luke.”

He nodded, leaning back once again. You gazed out the jet window, seeing familiar city lights in the distance. You’d be landing soon. And then it was back to whatever grim reality faced you at home.

“You don’t have your car today, do you?” Luke asked suddenly, stirring you from your thoughts.

You shook your head. “Uh no. When I went to leave for work, my tires were flat.”

“All of them?” he asked, sounding shocked.

“All of them.”

“What’d you do, park in a pile of glass?”

“No, I think they were slashed.”

Luke’s eyes widened, a wave of concern washing over his face. “You don’t think–”

“I have no proof,” you said, knowing instantly what Luke was implying before he even said it. “But yes.”

“Jesus–”

You took a slow, steadying breath, doing your best not to fall apart in front of Luke.

“I think your place is on my way home,” Luke said after a moment. “I can give you a ride.”

You looked up, instantly ready to decline the generous offer. Luke was good– too good. And you didn’t want to ruin whatever type of friendship was blossoming between you by being too needy right from the start.

“Don’t even try to say no,” he spoke first. “Please let me give you a ride.”

By habit, you chewed on your lower lip.

“Don’t overthink it,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t have offered if it was going to be an inconvenience.”

You felt guilty– you really couldn’t help it, and you weren’t used to accepting help from others. But something about Luke’s tone was so earnest, you believed him. He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t expect you to say yes. After a moment, you nodded slowly. “Okay,” your head hung, gaze falling to your lap. “Thank you.”

The two of you spent the final minutes of the jet ride sitting quietly, gazes fixated out the window as the pilot landed you safely back in Quantico. When the lights flickered on, your other team members stirred in their seats with exhausted sighs and groans. You grabbed your go bag and followed closely behind Luke as he stepped off the plane.

“Need anything inside?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, I’m good.”

With that, he adjusted the bag on his shoulder and veered towards the parking garage with you just strides behind him.

Luke made small talk on the ride home. It was like he knew how nervous you were to see Justin and was trying to lighten the mood. You mostly just smiled and nodded in response, and felt grateful when Luke didn’t pressure you or point this out. Only when you got close enough to offer him instructions to your house did you actually utter any words.

Then, before you knew it, Luke was putting his truck in park on the street near your house. You swallowed thickly as soon as you saw Justin’s car in the driveway and a single light still on in the house.

The harsh reality was that you had no idea what to expect when you walked through those doors. But here… now… sitting in this truck with Luke, you felt safe. It was hard to leave that.

But of course you had to. Luke couldn’t wait here all night.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly, trying to conceal how shaky your voice sounded.

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he said quickly. “But… I just– I mean, I don’t feel good about leaving you here.”

You shook your head quickly. Again, not wanting to feel like a burden. “I’m fine. It’ll be fine. He can be controlling and he gets angry– but he’d never hurt me or anything.”

Luke nodded, although the furrow in his brow told you he didn’t quite believe you.

“You have my number. Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”

You weren’t used to this kind of generosity. But before you could overthink things, you nodded earnestly, believing that you would actually call him if it came to that. If nothing else, Luke had proven how trustworthy he was in the last few hours alone.

“Alright,” he nodded carefully as you slid out of the front seat of his truck, feet colliding with the pavement.

“Thanks again,” you did your best to muster up a genuine smile.

The corner of his lip tugged up slightly, but concern was still plastered over his face. “See you on Monday then.”

“Monday,” you agreed.

With that, you closed the door– putting a literal wall between you and the only person who had made you feel safe in the last week.

You turned towards your house, the knots in your stomach tightening with each passing moment. When you reached the front door, you turned one last time to see Luke leaned forward, eyes trained on you. Your chest softened when you realized he was waiting for you to get inside safely before driving off. Offering him one, final wave, you turned to unlock the front door.

When you first stepped inside your house– everything looked normal. The light above the stove was on and the fridge hummed softly. You placed your duffel bag on the floor and stepped into the kitchen for some water. As you filled up a glass, you began to wonder if maybe you’d overreacted. Maybe Justin had been busy with work this week– just like you’d been.

But your wishful thinking was short lived.

Because the second you turned away from the faucet, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of Justin– standing on the other side of the island counter. You hadn’t even heard him approach you.

“Jesus, Justin–” you gasped, setting your glass of water down on the counter. “You scared me.”

Instead of replying, his eyes just narrowed. He looked angry– angrier than you’d ever seen him. An eerie chill crept down your spine, sending an eruption of goosebumps across your skin.

“Where were you?” he asked, voice menacing and icy.

“I told you– there was a case–”

His hands slammed down on the counter, causing you to take a step back as you jumped.

“Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not lying–” you said quickly, trying to keep your own voice even. You knew how important it would be to remain calm.

But despite your efforts, Justin swiped his hand across the counter, sending your cup of water colliding into the wall, where it shattered.

You winced, unable to completely contain your shock. Because despite the yelling and the screaming, Justin had never done that before. Something inside of you told you that you had to leave… now– but you couldn’t react in time. Because before you could even turn your body to head towards the door, he was already turning the corner around the island, eliminating the only barrier between you and his violent outburst.

“Where are you going, huh?” he challenged. “Gonna take off again?”

“I was at work, Justin– I told you that.”

He took another step closer to you, sending you a step backwards. Like a choreographed dance, you alternated steps until you heard the crunch of glass beneath your shoes. You’d reached the wall. You were cornered.

Panic flooded through you. And suddenly, logic went out the window. You couldn’t think rationally– you couldn’t problem solve. Everything just went blank.

“Who brought you home tonight, hm?”

He was close enough that you could smell the alcohol melting off his breath. You lowered your head, trying to appear as submissive as you could– because what the hell else were you supposed to do?

“I saw the truck– the white one? Who the fuck was that?”

“Just someone from work,” you answered quickly.

“Just someone from work, huh?” He took another step forward. There was practically no space between the two of you now. “Look at me when you talk.”

You were trembling so hard, you couldn’t follow his commands as fast as he wanted.

“I said–” he snapped harshly. Instantly, you felt fingers wrapping around your throat, forcing your head up. Justin’s hand squeezed, cutting air off. “Look at me when you talk.”

His grip tightened. “Go ahead– say it. Tell me where you were.”

You opened your mouth, but you couldn’t even get air in your lungs, let alone formulate words.

Justin’s eyebrow raised. For a moment, he actually looked like he was enjoying this.

“No?” he asked. “Nothing? Are you finally done lying to me?”

You tried to inhale– but when nothing came, more panic settled in your stomach. You squirmed, needing air fast. Your hands raised to grab his forearm, desperate for him to let go. You tried to breathe again– but when air still didn’t come, you dug your nails into his skin without thinking– scratching him, hoping that would help. Except, you were so panicked, you had no concept of how hard you actually scratched him. Your nails broke through the skin– causing him to release your throat.

“You bitch,” he hissed. Before you could even take a breath, you felt something collide with the side of your face, sending your head whipping to the side.

Your head hung for a moment while your brain tried to comprehend what was happening.

Justin had hit you– and there was currently something warm dripping down the side of your head. As you were hunched over, you felt something then collide with your stomach– hard. His knee maybe? You couldn’t tell–

“You let some man drive you home to my house!” he yelled, hand closing around your throat again. This time, he launched you backwards, whipping your head into the wall forcefully. “And then you come in and you fucking lie about it?”

You grasped at his wrist– not scratching, but trying to get him to loosen his grip. You couldn’t breathe– no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t breathe.

“Please,” you tried to say, but all that came out was a gasp.

You attempted to look at him– hoping he could see how sincere you were being. But when you gazed up, your stomach just dropped. His eyes were menacing– black, empty. He looked like he could kill you right here and now and not care in the slightest.

Justin’s grip tightened, you could feel each individual finger as it dug deeper into your skin, cutting off your airway– crushing your windpipe.

You were going to die– You were going to die and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You dug your nails into his skin again, you flailed– you slapped with what energy you had left. But nothing was working. Your vision was blurring– dark edges starting to create a tunnel around the world. He was too strong– and you were going to die.

Until suddenly, with no warning, Justin’s grip loosened.

Instantly, you slid to the floor– coughing and choking as you gasped for air.

You waited for whatever would come next– a kick to the ribs, something clattering over your head. But instead, you heard his footsteps retreating.

You willed yourself to look up– through foggy vision clouded by tears, you saw Justin backing out of the kitchen, his eyes wide.

“I-I–” he stammered. “I didn’t–” For a moment he paused, like he was frozen in place, before shaking his head.

You were too focused on trying to breathe regularly again to make sense of the look of remorse seemingly on his face before he darted out of the room.

Although he was out of your sight, you knew Justin couldn’t be far. And you knew that, despite the fact that you were sputtering and could barely breathe, you had to get out of that house. With what little strength you had left, you pushed yourself off the floor. Your back throbbed from being thrown against the wall, while a wave of dizziness overcame you. You all but staggered to where you’d dropped your bag earlier, doing a quick scan of the room before grabbing the strap and hauling it over your shoulder.

You hurried to the front door, hand on the knob, when you paused.

Where the hell were you supposed to go?

And then Luke’s words from earlier flashed through your mind.

Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.

You couldn’t– you thought. You’d already asked him for so much. But he did make you promise. And honestly, you couldn’t think of anyone in the world aside from him that you’d talk to about what had just happened.

Suddenly, you heard movement from upstairs.

You didn’t have time to toggle back and forth. You had to make a decision.

Before you could second guess anything, you grabbed your phone from your pocket, pulled up Luke’s contact info, and hurried out the door.

…

The second your name flashed across his screen, Luke knew he shouldn’t have left. Granted, he was only four minutes down the road– but he wished he had listened to his gut and just stayed.

He slid his thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

He was met by an eerie silence.

“Hello?” he repeated.

“Luke–” Your voice sounds so small– so choked up. “I’m sorry– I–”

He waited a moment, hanging on to each word you spoke like it was a prayer.

“Could you– maybe… could you come back? I’m so sorry– I–”

Luke was already turning his truck around before you could finish your choppy sentence.

“I’m on my way,” he assured you. “Stay right there, okay?”

He was pretty sure he heard you agree before the line went dead. But regardless, Luke was back at your house in an instant. The second he put his truck in park, he was already undoing his seatbelt and launching himself out of the car.

He had no idea what he was walking into– all he knew was that he had to get you out of there. What the hell could this asshole have said to you to have you so shaken up over the phone?

He imagined knocking on the door– finding you tear streaked and trembling. It made his insides roar with anger before even seeing you.

Except, when Luke turned the corner of his truck. He didn’t have to reach the front door to see you. He didn’t even have to walk across your lawn. Instead, you were hunched over on the curb, face buried in your hands while your whole body shook.

Luke’s shoulders fell– your name tumbling from his lips as he approached you.

He had prepared for trembling– he had prepared for crying. But what he wasn’t prepared for, was seeing your face, bloodied and bruised when you looked up at him.

He stopped dead in his tracks, everything inside of him turning to ice at the sight.

“Where is he?” Luke managed to choke out. His voice sounded muffled and distant in his own ears.

You let out a shaky breath before attempting to smile– like you were trying to somehow convince him that you were okay. The cut on your lip stretched as you did, making you wince. “Inside,” you whispered.

He nodded once. As much as he didn’t want to leave you out here alone, Luke couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll kill him,” he said through gritted teeth. And just like that, he was off– taking long strides towards the front door. He had no idea what your house looked like– no idea where he’d find that asshole lurking. All Luke knew was that he was going to pay for what he did to you.

He had tunnel vision– the only thing in front of him was a blind, rageful desire to hurt that piece of shit as much as he had hurt you. He was narrowing in on the front door– just a few steps away… until he heard something break through the fog.

It was you– your voice so soft and broken, calling out to him desperately. He turned around, blinders widening to see you standing on the lawn, chest heaving and tears falling down your cheeks quickly.

“Please Luke–” you begged. “Please don’t. I want to leave. Please, can we leave?”

He paused, but only for a second before all of his anger melted away in an instant.

He nodded, knowing right there– in that moment, that he would do absolutely anything for you at the drop of a hat. In a few quick steps, he was back at your side, hand hovering near your lower back just in case you needed extra support.

“We can go,” he said gently, purposely keeping his voice as calm as he could. “Let’s get you in the truck.”

After only a couple of steps, Luke noticed that you were limping. He felt a wave of tears burning behind his eyes. He was frustrated– angry. With your boyfriend, but mostly with himself. He knew he shouldn’t have left. He knew it in his gut. He should have been there– maybe if he’d stayed, he would’ve heard the yelling– he could’ve stepped in before things got this bad.

“Can you get up, okay?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for you.

You nodded, reaching up for the handle bar. He watched as you winced– just the extension of your torso causing your breathing to increase.

“You’re alright,” he said. “Let me help.”

He made sure to wait for you to nod before he placed his hand against your lower back. Ever so gently, he supported your weight so that you could hoist yourself up into the front seat.

“There you go,” he said, once you were safely tucked inside. He closed the door and turned to head to the driver’s side. Just as he did, he caught a flash of movement from the direction of your house. When he looked, he saw Justin standing on the front porch. Even from the road, Luke could see the tears glistening in his eyes.

He felt the familiar anger from earlier resurfacing inside of him. It tightened in his chest– burned in his stomach. He envisioned himself crossing the lawn– grabbing Justin by the shirt collar– launching his fist right into his jaw.

Luke inhaled deeply before looking back towards you. You were staring at him, crying again, your face riddled with fear. Because you knew exactly what he was imagining, and it made you afraid.

Luke’s insides softened.

No.

He would not just be another man who scared you tonight. Luke wanted to be someone you felt safe with.

Without looking back, he hurried along the front of his hood and climbed into his side of the truck. He put the truck in drive and calmly accelerated down the road– away from everything that had ever hurt you.

…

It was only when you were in the safe confinement of Luke’s truck that you realized how bad you were shaking.

The further you got from the house, the more the events from that evening sank into your brain. You’d seen this before with victims– once their adrenaline calmed down and they actually realized they were safe, fight or flight wasn’t protecting them anymore.

There was so much you wanted to say to Luke. But you could barely muster up the strength to breathe, let alone explain yourself.

But you knew that you had to say something. You inhaled shakily and picked at the loose hangnail on your thumb. “Luke, I’m so sorry,” you said, breaking through the thick silence.

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from how hard he was holding on. He hadn’t said a word since you’d been on the road and you found yourself wondering what was going through his mind. Was he angry? Annoyed? Frustrated?

Luke grimaced. “Please don’t apologize,” he said softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You bit your lip to keep any tears from spilling out– you’d cried enough in front of Luke for one day. “I just meant that I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything.”

Something in his tone just seemed so off– so curt. You desperately needed to make this right.

“Is there a hotel or something on the way to your place? You don’t have to go out of your way– you can just drop me off, I don’t want to inconvenience you–”

Luke hit the breaks, his truck coming to a stop as he pulled over on the side of the road. After shifting the gear, he turned in his seat to look at you.

“I’m not inconvenienced by you. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel. You’re coming to my place, and I’m going to clean up your cuts, and then I’m going to make you dinner.”

“Luke–” you started to protest but he shook his head.

“Please,” he said, voice cracking. “Please, let me do this– Otherwise… otherwise I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

Your brows furrowed. “Forgive yourself? What are you talking about?”

Luke shook his head, his dark mop of curls unruly after the long day. Slowly, he lifted his head and gazed out of the windshield, like he was deep in thought.

“I knew something was wrong– I mean, I heard the way he spoke to you in the garage. After you told me he slashed your tires… I just knew. I knew something bad would happen when I dropped you off, but I tried to convince myself I was just being dramatic– or paranoid. But I knew– and I didn’t listen. I left you, and you got hurt. So please, let me make you dinner and give you a safe place to be tonight. It’s the least I can do.”

Your mouth hung open– whatever you thought was going on in Luke’s mind, it wasn’t that. Before you could think twice, you leaned forward in your seat and gathered his hand in yours. His warm skin touched yours– sending shockwaves through your entire body.

“None of this was your fault,” you assured him. “In fact, you've shown me more kindness in the last few hours than I think Justin has shown me in the last year. I’m so grateful it was you who came and got me tonight, Luke.”

The words came out so easily– probably because of how true they were.

His gaze flickered towards yours– eyes glistening with unshed tears. He spun his hand, so that your palms pressed against each other, before lacing your fingers together and squeezing gently.

“You know I’ll never let him hurt you again, right?” he asked.

His words sent chills down your spine. You did know, but you weren't sure if you were ready to admit that or not. So instead, you changed the subject.

"Are we almost to your house?"

Luke shrugged. "Not really- I'm closer to Stafford, probably thirty five minutes."

You frowned. "Stafford? That's the opposite direction. I thought you said my place was on your way home."

A smirk crept across Luke's face. "That might've been a tiny lie."

"Luke!" you exclaimed.

He let out a laugh. "What? I knew you wouldn't have gotten in the car otherwise. Am I wrong?"

You let out a huff of air, hating the fact that he was right.

As he put the truck in drive and continued down the road, you squeezed his hand back.

#luke alvez imagine #luke alvez #luke alvez fic #luke alvez fanfic #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x reader fic #luke alvez x reader imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #luke alvez angst #luke alvez x reader fanfic #criminal minds x reader imagine

503 notes · View notes

jjkilll · 9 months ago

Text

-—✫UNTIL THE END OF TIME | JJK✫—-

warning: this is completely fictional. this story details personal injuries infilicted upon a main charater. reader discretion is advised. please read all warnings before proceeding. 18+

— pairing | ex-fiancé/idol jungkook x y/n

— summary | six months after you two broke up, you realized life's too short to not hold each other until the end of time.

— warning | personal injury (car accident), mentions of blood and surgery, a coma brought on by personal injury, mentions and the planning of marriage, pwp (big time), smut, reader giving jk a handjob, cum eating(?), spit(?), ass slapping (jk can't control himself)

— word count | 3.9K

— song | until the end of time - justin timberlake (this is gonna ruin the tour)

— a/n: flashback in bold, enjoy!!

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

your phone rings waking you quickly. you at up answering your phone. “i’m sorry to wake you, is this y/n l/n?” a man asks through the phone. “yes, is there something wrong?” you ask eyes barely open.

“unfortunately, yes. i’m dr. hill, your fiancée has been in an accident. will you come down and provide some extra information for me?” he asks sincerely.

“what?! is he okay? is he awake?” you sit up. “um, i think it’s best if i share this news in person.” your heart drops.

you stand quickly throwing on some clothes. “i’m coming. i’m on the way.”

you and jungkook had been broken up for six months. you broke off your engagement. he really didn’t want you to go.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you asked him to go with you to ask your friend to be in your wedding. you planned a lunch and jungkook never showed. you watched the clock tick and the time pass and nothing but radio silence. you tuck the handwritten letters back into your bag.

you got home and jungkook was passed out on the couch. you woke him, “hey go get in bed.” he stands barely awake, and walks into the bedroom flopping down onto your bed.

you walk past him into the bathroom. “where were you?” he mumbles. “lunch with my friends.” you say simply, taking the pins out of your hair.

“until 7 pm on a thursday? what for?” he asks. you sigh continuing to take your hair down from its high ponytail style. you don’t say anything until he groans lifting himself on the bed walking over to the bathroom door and standing in the frame. “what's wrong?” he asks you cluelessly which angers you. “nothing.” you say very monotone.

“you’re mad. why are you mad?” you don’t say anything and continue looking at yourself in the mirror. “i’m not.” you say simply. “ you aren’t even looking at me.” he grabs at your waist and you pull away. “stop.” you say moving away. “can you just tell me what’s wrong? i’m too tired for this shit.” he spits and that’s your final straw. you we so upset with him, that you didn't say anything at first trying to make sure you didn't say anything you didn't mean.

“today was the day we were supposed to ask my friends to be in the wedding and you didn’t even show. i sat there like a dumbass checking the clock hoping you’d show up. you didn’t. you didn’t even call. so yea, it’s very fucking clear that you’re too tired for this shit.” you motion back and forth between the two of you.

“you know damn well that’s not what i meant. i’m sorry babe, things just got so hectic today,” he explains.

“then a text would have eased my mind,” you spoke.

“i was busy, baby. what do you want me to say? you know what i do prepping for a comeback isn't easy.”

“whatever jungkook.” you dismiss him not trying to get more upset.

“did they all say yes?” he asked sitting on the edge of the tub. “i didn’t give them the letters.” you say simply. “why not?” he asks. “because i need more time.” he raises his brow. “for?” he presses.

“to think. see if this is something i even need to do.” you spit.

“what does that mean?” he asks standing up beside you. “jungkook, you haven’t put your input in. you haven’t seen the venue. you don’t care about the colors and you can’t even show up to a fucking lunch. yes, i know how hard it is to prep for a comeback, but planning a wedding by yourself is bullshit. we haven’t had sex in four weeks. you don’t want this relationship as bad as i do.” you explained.

“i want you more than anything.” he says. “then you’d make time! you'd act like it! i don’t ask for weekly dinners, and i don’t complain when you get home at 3 am and leave at 6 am. but, this is different. this is our marriage. i can’t help but think this is what our marriage will be. i’ll just keep waiting on you to find a balance for this shit, the whole world gets everything you got and i just get your last name. i sit at home and watch you create a life without me. that’s why i need to think jungkook.” you finally turn and look at him.

your eyes brimming with tears. “baby, i’ll figure it out i promise. it won’t be like this forever.” you shake your head as your tears fall. “you don’t know that. you know know your job is ever changing. i love you, i do, and i know how much your job means to you. i would never ask you to choose me over your job, but i make time for you even in my schedule. i’m a personal assistant for an idol. I’m gone just as much as you are.” you explain tears choking you up. he pulls you close and you sob in his arms. “what's wrong with me? why can't you make time for me?”

you take a deep breath, “i can’t do this anymore.” you realize he’s crying too. “don’t say that. please don’t say that.” he begs. “i’m sorry jungkook.” you back away from him. you hate how quick he is to let you go. you twist the beautiful ring jungkook gave you months ago, off your finger. you place the ring in his palm. “please,” he looks down at you. “i’m sorry.” you say walking back into your bedroom. you walk into your closet grab clothes and shove them into a duffle. “you don’t have to go tonight. just stay.” he pleads.

“i’m sorry, baby, please. please don't leave.” he cries. you move faster sobbing, you hated hearing him cry. your chest is heavy, as you cry so hard it’s hard to breathe. he walks into the closet and hugs you tight. “please don’t leave me. i don’t want to be alone tonight. please if you want to leave i have to be okay with letting you go, but i want you, i need you to know that I'm not giving up on us. just one more night. stay with me one more night, let me know you're not giving up on me.” you cry. you want to fall apart. “okay.” you say. he hugs you and doesn’t let go. he holds you so tight and so sure. his hands are shaking as he pulls you in. you get this feeling in your gut, you need space and so does he. one night only.

he finally lets go and holds your hand. you strip yourselves of your clothes and lay in bed holding each other, both of you praying this wasn’t the last time you'd hold each other so close.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you arrive at the hospital. “jeon jungkook.” you speak to the front desk clerk. “relationship?” she asks. “umm, he’s my-my fiance.” she types quickly as you flash your id. “room 613,” she says.

you speed to the elevator taking it up to the sixth four. you look around the floor and run up to the door. you look through the small cut-out of glass. he’s just lying there, an oxygen mask on his face. tears start to pour from your eyes.

“oh my god” you back up starting to panic. “ma’am?” a doctor calls. you turn. “i’m doctor hill. are you his fiancee?” you nod. “yes, please tell me what happened.” you beg. “unfortunately, he was on the expressway southbound, and it seems that he lost control of his motorcycle, he ran into the back of a semi. he’s helmet saved him from any brain damage, but he is having a hard time breathing on his own as he’s punctured his left lung. he hasn’t woken up since we put him under anesthesia, the surgery was a success.” he explains looking at the file in his hands.

“he’s in a coma?” you ask. he nods sincerely. “he is alive and stable, but we aren’t sure when he will come out the the coma, it could be days, maybe months.” you began to sob. “i’m so sorry.” your soul is fading, it was hard to believe. you walk back up to the glass. you stare at him and curse yourself for ever leaving his side. you open the door and walk up to him. you just look at him, and tears fall. he has a black eye and some stitches about his eyebrow.

“i’m so sorry, baby.” you sob quietly. you hold his hand and sob harder when he doesn’t do the double squeeze he’d usually do. you kiss his cheek. “i’m not going anywhere. i’ll be right here i promise.” walk to the other side lay down your purse in the chair and push it to his bedside. you sit laying your head beside him. you gripped his hand and held it tightly.

you didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep until a nurse awakes you. “i’m sorry, here’s his belongings.” she hands you a clear bag with jungkook’s stuff inside. grab the back sitting up and opening it. his jacket was covered in blood, which made your eyes brim. his wallet you noticed something poking out of it. you pulled out a small polaroid of you and him on your first date. you wore disguises and went to six flags. you’d ask another couple to take the photo after you got off the batman ride. you smile reminiscing about how much fun you both had that day.

at the bottom of the bag is a chain with a ring on it, your ring. it was covered in blood as well. you sob, the nurse turns after checking on jungkook. “i’m so sorry ma’am. is there anything i can do for you. are you hungry? coffee?” you shake your head thanking her anyway before she leaves.

you undo the chain sliding your ring off. you hold it up walking over to the sink, washing and drying it, your tears still falling. you slide the ring onto your finger, holding it close to your chest. you walk over to your chair sitting and laying next to him again. “please wake up. please.” you beg.

you wish you never left his side. this was your fault, you thought to yourself. somehow, some way you had a feeling you could've stopped this.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

it had been three weeks since the accident. you were at the hospital every day since. you called your mom to pack a bag for you with everything you needed. your boss a friend of jungkook’s understood, telling you to take how long it took for jungkook to get better.

“good morning aundra.” you speak to the nurse you have grown closer with since being there. “morning darling!” she says cutely. “i’m happy to see you in a better mood today.” she speaks. “yea dr. hill says jungkook can breathe on his own. he’s getting stronger.” you explain. “i know. you’ve got a trooper on your hands for sure.” she smiles.

a few hours later you’re on facetime with the boys telling them how much jungkook has been progressing since they saw him the first time. they sigh a sigh of relief. “he’s so strong guy. we know he’ll be back and kicking as soon as he wakes up. you nod, telling them you were going to try to sleep before the next nurse came to check on him telling them you’d talk to them later.

you lay your head on his lap looking at him. “my pretty boy. you’re so strong. you know i never understood this part of you. you take on so much and come back so strong. you are otherworldly, baby.” you kiss his hand and stand going to nap on the bench across the room. you lay down slowly drifting to sleep.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you wake to some talking. “how long has she been here?” you hear a low familiar voice. “3 weeks. every day since the accident. this is the longest she’s slept.” you hear a female voice. you turn your eyes fluttering open. you see jungkook sitting up stuffing his mouth with food.

“jungkook!” you scream running over to him hugging him tightly and he groans. “oh im sorry! you’re just you’re awake. my god youre awake. i’m so fucking happy youre okay. jesus please you scared me half to death.” you hug him sobbing. he hold you tight. he swallows his mouthful of food. “hi baby, im sorry im just so hungry.” you giggle looking at him and pecking his lips.

“you were here this whole time?” he asks. you nod. “everyday, 24/7.” you smile. “thank you. i love you.” he looks at you pecking your lips again. he hold both your hands feeling your ring on your finger his eyes shoot down. “you put your ring back on?” you hum. “yeah… i did. i should’ve never taken it off.” he smiles.

“where were you even going?” you ask him, now you must know. he bites his sandwich and swallows before speaking, “your house. i had taken two weeks off of work, i wanted to show you i was serious. i talked to my manager, and he told me, that if i start doubling down every other day it’d speed things up for us, meaning more free time. more time for us.” you smile at him your eyes spilling with tears. he was on his way to you. you were happy he was thinking of you just as much as you were thinking of him. unfortunately, though you can't help but feel like this was your fault. you shake the thought as he grabs your hand, you interlock fingers.

“i love you so fucking much. so so fucking much jungkook.” he kisses your cheek. “i love you more baby.” he says biting his sandwich. “i heard hospital food sucks, and this could just be because i haven’t eaten in three weeks, but this sandwich is fucking amazing.” you giggle.

“oh i have to call the boys.” you speak wiping away your tears. “i talked to them earlier.” jungkook says. “how long have you been up?” you ask raising your brow. “45 minutes or so, i just didn't want to wake you. the nurse said you had barely been sleeping,” he said.

“duh! my fiancé was unconscious in a hospital bed. if someone sleeps peacefully during that, lock them up and throw away the key.” you state. he chuckles lightly.

“i like when you call me that. it feels good to hear that again.”

“what fiancé?” you ask. he nodded cutely.

“so what are the colors?” he asks all of a sudden. “colors of what?” you ask. “for the wedding. what were you thinking?” you smile and sit beside him. you quickly pull up your pinterest board showing him all your ideas. he didn’t show it but knowing you kept them, comforted him.

“white arch? it’ll clash with your dress.” he points out. “oh. oh my god, you're right! we could do green, maybe like ivy leaves?” you suggest. “i think that’ll be immaculate with my grey suit, too. yea, it’ll look amazing.” he adds.

“you already did so good without me baby.” he says. “but it’s clear that i need you. i would’ve been crying for days about that fucking arch.” he chuckles. “i’m still so stuck on flowers.” you pout. “well dr. hill says i have six weeks to recover before i can’t start schedules again. we have time.” he says. you kiss his cheek fluffing his hair.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

for the first time in six months, you walk into your shared apartment. your pictures still hanging on the wall, everything exactly where you left it.

you lay in bed next to him. he wraps his arm around you pulling you in. he kisses the top of your head. “the bed was so cold without you.” he whispers. “i’m never going anywhere ever again.” you peck his lips.

“i need you. i haven’t gotten a good rest in ages, my sleep paralysis started to act up again. just laying in the hospital room with you i slept more than i have in the last six months.” you say. “you just make me breathe better.” you express.

he pouts it hurts him to hear how badly you were struggling. “i was suffocating without you. i love my job but coming home to you made me feel like i won the lottery. i didn’t realize how much i had won until i lost it. i will not fuck it up this time. winning the lottery once is just luck, but twice is a sign.” you giggle rubbing your nose along his.

“i missed you so much, baby.” he says. “trust me i missed you more.” you reply. “impossible.” he whispers before kissing you deeply. you hum into the kiss, the way he kissed you makes your body tingle. you nervously bury your face into his chest. “you are so cute, why so shy? it’s just me.” he smiles. “you just got that effect on me. you make me feel like a teenager, kicking my feet and daydreaming and shit.” you mumble into his chest, he giggles brightly.

“kiss me again,” you say looking up at him. he obeys quickly kissing your lips. jungkook never found the idea of sucking someone’s tongue until he met you. the way you kiss him had a tent quickly growing in his pants.

he hums. “i’m so hard for you right now.” he states pecking your lips. you lightly push him away tutting. “no physical activity for you sir. dr. hill told me it’s imperative that don’t do anything that requires too much physical activity, for your lungs. so no sex right now.” you explain. “what?! come on. i haven’t felt you in months. now i have to wait even longer?” you nod and he groans throwing his head back in frustration. suddenly an idea pops into your head.

“what if…” he hums letting you know he's listening, “ i give you a handjob?” you whisper. “be serious, babe. don’t tease me.” he whines in his last sentence.

you giggle sliding your hands down his sweats. you stroke him slowly. you quickly look up at his licking your fingers before swirling them on his tip. “oh shit. that feels good.” you continue stroking him at a steady pace. “fuck” he mutters. “i wasn’t trying to cum this soon.” he chuckles nervously. “it’s okay baby. give me your cum. i want it so bad” you say teasingly.

he moans biting his lip. you stroke him faster, “just like like that, ohh shit.” you groan. you stroke him just how he likes. he kisses you deeply as you stroke him. “you are so fucking hot.” he whispers. you kiss him again lightly tugging on his bottom lip. “i’m cumming.” he mumbles moaning as he shoots his thick load onto your hand and in his pants. you slide your hand out covered in him. you look at him licking his cum off your knuckles. he looks at you in awe. “mm” you hum lightly flashing him a smile.

“i just want pick you up and fuck you.” you giggle at his bluntness. “jungkook.” you laugh. “what? the way you were just looking at me when you licked your fingers, you know if i was in full health right now i would be fucking you so good.” you smile pecking his slips. “one week.” you said simply. “that’s how long dr. hill said.” you explain. he looks at you, “you think it’s possible to sleep for a week?” you pinch his nose with your fingers. “yea you were sleep for three. no more sleeping for you sir.” he giggles.

“let’s shower.” you say patting his cheek. “oh definitely, you just made me cum in my pants.” he starts to move but you stop him.

“i’m sorry.” you say for the millionth time. “for what?” he questions. “for not believing in you when you said you'd figure it you. i should’ve,” you say simply. you hold back the tears that are making your throat close up.

“look, i know things were difficult, but i knew that night when you stayed, you weren’t giving up on me. on us,” he corrects. “ you stayed by my side for three weeks. you brushed my hair, you talked to me, you gave me a sponge bath. you always believed in me. this accident was not your fault, i need to understand that.” you pout your eyes threatening to spill.

“nuh-uh, no more tears. it’s only up from here, my love.” you hold his close. his thumb wipes away your tears that fall. “now let’s get in the shower.” he pats your butt before moving and standing up quickly. he groans leaning back onto the bed. “woah, take it easy, baby.” he huffs. “i’m not used to be this slow.” he chuckles.

“in all due time. trust me next week you’ll feel much better,” you explain. he nods as you help him stand. “i got you, babe.” he groans standing. you walk into the bathroom and he leans against the sink. you help him take off his shirt as his shoulder is in pain. “you’d look so hot in scrubs.” he says admiring you as you help him.

“oh hush.” you giggle. you help him take of his pants, his semi hard cock spring out. you look up at him. “what?” he whines. “you’re still hard?” you tease. “yes! i just thought about how you look naked.” he spoke. you laugh. you lift your shirt off and undo your bra and your tits bounce out.

“see? and you expect me not to be hard right now?” you giggle turning around and turning the shower on. “okay you first.” he steps in letting the hot water hit his skin. “hurry up.” he rushes you. “have some patience,” you say raising your brown jokingly. you slip off your shorts and step in. your back faces jungkook as you reach for your shampoo, and suddenly a slap hits your ass. you stand quickly. “jungkook.” you warn.

“what? come on. your ass was on full display, it was the urges inside me.” you chuckle. “that wasn’t me, i didn’t want to slap your ass, but the parasites in me wanted to slap your ass.” you laugh loudly. “shut up!” you chide jokingly.

you apply soap onto a washcloth, and start washing his chest. “i wanna get married tomorrow.” he says suddenly. “what?!” you almost yell. you look at him in disbelief. “i don’t even have a dress.” you explain. “then let’s go thrift one. i realized that life is too short, and in this lifetime i need you to be my wife.” you smile, but you don’t say anything. “what if… we get married tomorrow, and we still have a wedding. we can still do it big, when we actually get married it’s just us. me and you like i will be forever.” you suggest. you smile at him. “okay.” you say. “okay like you're just doing it for me or you love the idea?” you chuckle as you realize his small panic. “i love the idea. just me and you.” you say.

“forever,” he adds.

“and ever, until the end of time.” you grin, finally everything feels good. you stand in front of your soon-to-be husband, excited for what the future holds.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

#bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook jeon #bts #jungkook smut #bangtan jungkook #jeon jungkoooook #bts army #bangtan smut #jeon jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfic #bangtan #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x fem!reader

610 notes · View notes

bengals-barnesbabe · 4 months ago

Text

Closet Date

Pair: Husband!Justin Jefferson x Wife!BlackReader

Des: You and Justin need a break from your kids, so you find solace in your walk-in closet.

TW: MDNI 18+ NSFW | smut, p in v, fingering, descriptions of a dick, breeding kink, daddy kink, language, temper tantrums, children not playing nice, 1st POV, Justin's POV

WC: 1950

Main Masterlist

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆

It’s 7 PM on Friday, it’s 95°, and my husband and I are stuck trying to discipline a 7-year-old boy and a 3-year-old because they won’t stop trying to kill each other.

Alright, we love our boys more than anything, but when Zion came home from school with a prize he won from participating in class (which we are very proud of him for), Deion, his little brother, lost it.

Justin is currently trying to help Zion understand that his brother is young and still learning about sharing and not touching other people’s stuff.

While I am trying to soothe Deion as he continues to have a 20-minute temper tantrum, at this point, I’m just waiting for him to pass out because this little boy will not listen.

So here I am, sitting on the living room floor, as my toddler bangs his fists and kicks his feet. Thankfully, the waterworks have dried up, and he’s finally settling down. But the little guy is really putting up a fight with the Sandman.

Meanwhile…

“Dad, you don’t understand. I won this fair and square. If I let Deion play with it, he’ll break it.” Zion says, holding his toy to his chest.

“I know, son.” Justin sits on the bed with the boy and wraps his arm around his shoulder. “Your brother’s got a lot of learning to do, but I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. Deion just doesn’t understand how much it means to you.”

Zion leans into his father’s embrace. “Why not? I told him I won the class spelling bee.”

Justin smiles and rubs the young boy’s arm. “He’s just a little guy right now. Deion hasn't learned the importance of hard work yet. He’ll get there soon, but until then, how about you keep your prizes in your bag until you get home? Then you can play with your toy all you want when your brother isn’t looking. How’s that sound?” Zion looks up at his dad and smiles back at him with his matching grin.

“I can do that, daddy.”

“Alright, buddy, how about you tell me all about this spelling bee?” Justin asks, making the kid’s face bean with excitement.

“Okay! So it was me, and Liza, and Dia…

As Zion tells his dad about his exciting victory, I’m finally able to breathe a sigh of relief, thanks to our 3-year-old, who is now passed out on the couch.

I softly chuckle as baby snores come from Deion’s pout. Then, get off the floor and scoop him up, taking him to his dinosaur-themed room and tucking him in.

“My poor baby.” I frown at his sweet brown, tear-streaked cheeks. Both boys look just like their father, from their deep, sunken eyes to the undertone of their skin.

The truth is, you wouldn’t be able to tell I was their momma, but I have the stretch marks and wide hips to prove it.

As I walk out of Deion’s room, Justin closes Zion’s door and winks at me. “Is he asleep, too?”

“Yeah, don’t worry, he’s not upset anymore. Daddy got it all under control.” He smiles, showcasing his pearly white teeth.

I raise my brows in amusement. “Oh really, Daddy handled it without any tears?” We close the space between us, his hands finding their home around my hips just above the swell of my ass.

“Mhmm, you know me. Never gotta worry about me with my boys.”

I hum softly, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Well, since the boys are down. Looks like we finally have some time to ourselves.” I say casually but inciting a glimmer in his eyes. “We should have a closet date…”

He narrows his gaze, but his smirk remains. “A closet date? What’s that love?”

“You’ll just have to follow me and find out.” My hands briefly run down his chest, and then I take his hand, leading him to our walk-in closet.

“Baby, I hope this isn’t you getting me to help you rearrange your shoes. I told you just to hire a taskmaster for that.” I can hear the eye roll through the playfulness of his tender voice. I shake my head and continue to walk through our bedroom and into the closet, closing the door behind him. “Alright, we’re here. Will you tell me what this is now, baby?”

I hide my smirk with the mask of confusion. “Hmmm… well, I saw this idea in a video somewhere. I think it starts off like this…” I slowly backed him up to an empty wall. “And something like this…” I raise one hand to his neck, and the other rests on his chest.

The glimmer in his eyes returns as his hands return to my hips and then follow the curve of my rear. “Oh… I see now. Let me help you some, mamas.” His grip tightens on me, both hands grabbing my cheeks and pulling flushed against his fit body.

“Am I going in the right direction?” He asks huskily against my ear, lightly tugging at the lobe with his lips, successfully sending a wave of heat down my spine.

“Mhmm, you catch on fast,” I whisper as his lips move down my neck, quickly latching onto my pulse point, making my breath hitch. “Ohhhh… Baby…”

My moans flow to his ears like sweet melodies as he nips and sucks at my sensitive skin before pulling up and capturing my lips with his in a slow passionate manner.

“I love your voice, mamas. Make some more of those beautiful noises for me.” He mumbles against my lips while sinking his hand down the fabric of my lounge pants and feeling the bare skin all the way down to my damp folds. “Mamas, fuck,” he growls, barely dipping his long fingers in and spreading my wetness up to my clit.

“Jus-Justin…” He swallows my moans and gently circles my sensitive button until my core is clenching around nothing.

“You had my pussy out all day while I was up in that office buried in film? I could’ve had you bent over my desk, worshipping my woman’s beautiful body all day?” He groans and traces the outline of my pussy.

“Jus- Daddy, please…” I whine into his muscular chest.

“You think after thinking about you and this wet ass pussy all day, I’m gonna let you off easy?” He chuckles and pulls his fingers away.

“No, daddy, please. I had to take care of the boys and…

“Shhh shhh, calm down mamas. I’m just playin’. You really thought I was gonna hold out? Nah nah nah, I need you just as bad as you need me.” He pecks my lips, then pulls the string, holding my pants up. I shiver, feeling the draft on my pulsing cunt.

Justin takes his time undoing his belt and dropping his jeans. “You know, I was thinking… It’d be nice to have a little sweetpea like her momma running around here.” He whispers as he pulls his thick length from his boxers.

“Ohhh, I need that…”

His smirk grows widely on his lips. “What a little princess or…” He hooks my leg over his waist and rubs his dick on my heat.

“Both!” My hips move against his on their own accord.

A deep chuckle fills my ears. “You gonna let me fill you up with another baby, mamas? Give us the missing piece from our family. You gonna make me a daddy to a little princess, mamas? My beautiful Queen, my wife, the love of my life…”

I nod my head avidly. “Yes, Justin. I want you to fill me up, pump me full of your cum. I wa- need it, I wanna have your baby so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. What my queen wants, she gets. I’ll give you anything and everything. I’m gonna need to hold on and breathe, baby. Okay?” He lifts my head for confirmation.

“Yes, daddy.”

He dips his head to place a sweet, loving kiss on my lips. “Good girl.” His grip on my leg tightens as his free hand lines his dick up to my core. “Breathe baby…”

I lay my head on his chest to match his steady breaths while he slowly sheathes himself inside me. “There you go, good girl.” His voice’s gritty as he holds back, letting my pussy stretch nicely around his thickness.

“Oh-hhh.” My short, oval nails dig into his shoulders as he sinks in, inch by breathtaking inch.

“Baby… Talk to me, mamas.” He groans, withdrawing everything but the tip. “How you doin’?”

I smile against his chest. He’s also so attentive during sex, no matter where, how, or when he’s taking me. Making sure he doesn’t hurt me more than it should at first, always prioritizing my pleasure over his.

“Justin…”

“Yes, mama, what is it?” He answers softly.

I look up into his dark chocolate eyes. “I need you… to fuck me…”

“You sure, baby, we can go as slow as you want?” His big, warm hand cups my cheek, his thumb gliding over my cheekbone.

“Daddy, I need it.” I voice innocently while giving him dark ‘fuck me’ eyes. He bites his lip and flips us so my back is against the wall.

“Fuck, those beautiful brown eyes, you know exactly what you’re doing, huh?” He smirks, kisses my temple, and then wraps my other leg around his waist. “I can’t wait to see you glowing and growing my baby again.”

For a moment, my heart bursts with joy. A bubbly smile paints my face as my mind fills with ideas and images of what my husband would look like as a girl dad.

Then he dips his lips to my ear, and he growls, “Take this dick mamas.” His thick, veiny dick drags me from those thoughts as it fills my pussy deliciously, drawing out muted screams and deep breaths.

“Goddamn, you feel good, always so tight. Like you were made for me.” He moans, thrusting hungrily in and out of my slick warmth.

His tip hits that spongy spot with one long drag, making my back arch. “Fuck! Daddy!”

“Mamas, you’re killing me here. We can’t wake up the boys.” He groans breathlessly but continues to bully my g spot with his fat tip. My dull nails drag up and down his back, whimpers and sharp moans leaving my lips.

“Mamas…” He starts, then fixes the problem with his mouth instead, blurring my moans with his lips.

Our sounds of pleasure mix together while the slapping of his skin on mine prevails.

You can’t fix every problem.

✧･ﾟ: *

“So, why closet sex when I could’ve just made love to you in this big-ass comfy bed? You hit your head on the wall like three times.” Justin mumbles against my chest as we lay under the covers, legs wrapped together, happily spent.

“I told you, I saw it in a video.” I shrugged, tracing the patterns in his cornrows.

“Why did they do it in the closet in the video then?” He looks up at me.

I bite my lip and chuckle hesitantly. “Their kids were watching TV in their living room.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “You just wanted me to fuck you in that closet, huh?” He climbs up and kisses my lips, softly biting my lower lip.

“Guilty.” I moan, rolling us over and putting my hands on either side of his head, smirking. “Now, wanna see if we can fit in round two before the boys wake up?”

“My girl… I love the way you think.” He smiles, pulling my head back to his lips.

And it all started because of a toy dinosaur.

#justin jefferson x black!reader #justin jefferson #Justin Jefferson x reader #bengals barnesbabe #black reader #nfl imagine #married life #minnesota vikings #mom!reader #dad!justin Jefferson #young kids #smut #nfl players #justin jefferson smut #jjettas

277 notes · View notes

lunaviee · 1 year ago

Text

“ THAT SHOULD BE ME ” — JUSTIN BIEBER <//3

࿓⋆ tags - silly fluff !!

࿓⋆ contains - various from jjk, hq, and bllk

he hates that thing. that dirty, grimy, ball of fluff that sleeps and cuddles with you every night. that should be him in your arms, tucked into your neck and help tightly as you sleep. his eyes scan over your instagram story in envy.

“me and churro against the world!!”

it’s honestly an adorable picture, he thinks. your cheek is slightly smooshed into the plush and the necklace he bought you for your anniversary is sitting on your collarbone. there’s a cheeky little smile on your face, partially hidden by some of the fluff of the plushie.

but that’s besides the point! your captions should only consist of you and him against the world, not some sack of fuzz you bought just a few weeks ago.

he doesn’t realized he’s been zoned out for so long, thinking about the 37th way he can toss that thing in the trash. not until a notification pops up on his screen,

can you come over? i miss you 😞💔💔

in DIRE need of a hug rn🙏💗

what perfect timing!!

you better bet his ass is in your driveway in a matter of minutes.

gojo, yuji, toge, atsumu, oikawa, bokuto, hinata, tsukki, kuroo, suna, rin, nagi, shidou + your favs! (could fit with anyone really)

✮ — heyyy guysss……sorry for um being in the trenches for so long and basically lying😭🙏 ill maybe write some more if i see any requests i like but idk🙁🙁🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #haikyuu x reader #jjk x reader #hq x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #rin itoshi x reader #nagi seishrio x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #miya atsumu x reader #gojo x reader #yuji x reader #toge x reader #shidou x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #suna rintarou x reader #kuroo x reader #hinata x reader #bokuto x reader

568 notes · View notes

uzurimisery · 7 months ago

Text

bitter frost, honey i'm coming home. / logan howlett x reader / nsfw

warnings: MDNI, angst, p in v, mention of vomit, makeup sex, death (not character), thoughts of suicidal ideation, sappy emotional sex, old man cums quick, Logan yells at reader, smoking, knotting (not a/b/o)

wc: 9k

A/N: I do not know brevity. This was only meant to be 4k max

It’s cold on the ranch now. The first frost came barrelling through, ice crystals hanging on the barbed wire fences and freezing over the troughs out in the pasture. Days on the ranch start early, often before dawn, the first rays of light peeking over the crest of the mountains, painting it pink and golden. He’d step out into the crisp morning air and go to the barn, where he’d feed the animals. The chickens were too loud if he didn’t feed them first, the two roosters crowing till he did, so they went first. After the chickens, it was time for the two horses and the cows. After three years of doing it, he moved with practiced precision. Scattering hay, pouring oats, and spreading seeds are all mindless tasks.

Logan had to venture out on Weston, a reliable but honorary son of a bitch, with an icebreaker to free up the water for the herd. Then, he had to head into the barns and ensure they weren’t frozen. He should pull out the heated troughs, kept convincing himself he’d do it next weekend 27 weekends ago, and now it was necessary. His back ached a bit at the thought. Pulling out all the equipment and placing it was a full day's job with just himself doing it. He was getting a fucking headache just thinking about it.

It’s not that he wasn’t strong enough. He was just old. He was far too old to run a ranch independently with so little help. Each winter felt a bit long as if there was too much work. Maybe he had grown lazier, too, over the years. No more fighting and not working at Xavier’s school; he was just living on the land now. Cattle ranching. Felt like an All-American cowboy when he had on wranglers, flannel, Justin boots, and some hat he had picked up at the tractor supply store a year back. The hat had seen better days, and the ridge was beaten up and dented from all the times he’d fold it in half and tuck it into his back pocket. He didn’t bother with a jacket, be far too warm that way.

The ranch was quiet, save for the sound of cattle and horses. Now, the yellow pasture stretches out from the start of his property line on the road to near the base of the mountains. His little private valley. At first, the quiet made him anxious, like he was waiting for another catastrophe to come and tear it apart. That he’d wake up with someone trying to kill him, and all too often, he’d close his eyes and envision all the torture he’d been through—too much pain and suffering in his life.

The quiet also gave him too much time to think about everything he’d done. Everything he’d lost. He was a man who had known mainly suffering for all his life. Sometimes, he felt he didn’t deserve this peace, this serenity. It was dissonant. He was a fighter, a soldier, a weapon made human to kill and kill and kill again until the only color he knew was red, the only scent he smelt iron, till the collar around his neck pulled so tight it’d break it.

His hands ached, claws threatening to come out as he worked himself up, the sting of vomit on his tongue. The back of his knuckles split open like they weren’t even there, like there was no skin or muscle for the adamantine to cut through. Like it didn’t hurt every time it did.

Weston whinnied under him, tired of lazily trotting around the barn to check for coyote marks. He wanted to gallop around the outskirts of the land while Logan sniffed out any danger to the herd. Didn’t need a cattle dog when he was a glorified one.

“Yeah yeah, asshole.” His spurs dig into Weston’s sides, urging the horse into a gallop. He might as well get the morning round done now.

The horse broke into a gallop, bouncing Logan in the saddle, wind whipping him in the face. For a moment, the noise in his head quieted. There was no constant thought of you, just what he had to do after rounds.

As they reached the fence line, Logan scanned the horizon, senses on high alert. He knew he was never looking for just coyotes or stray animals; he was always searching for something more. A threat that might never come. Some bullshit hopped-up mutant on a vendetta or some power-hungry human looking to use him.

Now, at a canter, the two patrolled the whole property line as he took deep breaths, inhaling the cold air, trying to focus on the present. On the life he had here. Not what he had left behind. But the past is never far behind, and he had so much past to run from. It would always be near him, lurking in the shadows. The ranch could never drown it out, cover it up, and make him forget. Maybe it was just another reminder he could never truly escape who he was, no matter how hard he tried.

“Easy now,” he murmured, pulling Weston to a stop near the far edge of the property. He could see everything from here. It was beautiful and peaceful, but all he could feel was the weight of what he was missing.

Sometimes, he swore he smelt your perfume on the breeze.

“Let’s head back.” Weston turned around, ready to run the way back toward the barn. This routine was the only thing that kept him sane. The work. The responsibilities. Barely enough to keep him busy but not enough to keep him from sinking too far into the darkness in his thoughts.

He’d gotten lazy the past week and fallen behind on the hay maintenance, so he’d need to buck it today. Move it all from being covered under some tarps to the hay barn. Move them all one by one. He was glad that 150 pounds felt like nothing to him in times like that.

The chicken coop also needed a roof repair. The last storm did a number on it. Logan bought the supplies the last time he was in town. It just meant stripping the old one off, resecuring the waterproof liner, and hammering the steel roof. Maybe he’d add some more insulation next weekend in preparation for the winter.

Today was going to be a long one.

───※ ·❆· ※───

A knock on the door echoed in the ranch house, slicing through the quiet thrum of the fridge kicking on and the TV volume on low. He wasn’t expecting company as he stopped mid-swig of his beer, brow furrowed. The neighbors knew by now to leave him the hell alone and had enough run-ins to steer clear of him unless it was an emergency. There were no ranch hands due to arrive until next Monday.

His boots thudded with heavy steps as he rose from the couch and walked over. The tips of his claws cut through his skin, the metallic ring soft as he reached the door.

He grabbed the handle, ready for it to be blown off the hinges by someone knocking it down.

“Logan, it’s me.” That's a voice he’d recognize anywhere, unmistakable and achingly familiar. The one he longed to hear to the point it drove him crazy. The one he dreamed of every night, of all the terrible things it had said to him because of what he’d done. Heard it in his sleep and his waking hour like a fucking ghost haunting him.

“Can you open the door already? I know you’re in there.”

He blinked as he did, trying to grapple with his emotions brought to light by the reality of you standing there.

“What?” his voice cracked. “What are you doing here?”

You looked so sad, a deep sorrow in your eyes—the kind that had been there when the two of you had argued the night before he left. It made him feel like he missed something crucial like you had lost a part of yourself—one that settled deep in your bones and moved in your muscles and ligaments.

“Charles told me where you were.”

His throat felt painfully tight, as if the words were squeezing his neck. He didn’t expect this- hadn’t expected you to ever ask Xavier where he was and come see him.

Neither of you moved, the door half-open as he stood blocking it.

“You ain’t supposed to be here.” His tone was gruff. He had been smoking more since coming to the ranch, trying to dull his brain.

Your voice was steady but filled with so much sadness it made him want to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Plead with you to transgress his sins. Go to confession and tell all his wrongdoings. “I needed to see you again.”

He looked out into the driveway, seeing nothing but emptiness.

“Did you fly over here? You don’t even have your suit on.”

“It’s fine,” you said with a shrug, “it’s dark out anyways.”

He stared at you. The porch lights set a soft, warm glow on your skin, the panes of your face made clear. You looked beautiful, mesmerizingly so, as you stared up at him.

“You gonna let me in or not?”

“Don’t get comfortable,” he grumbled, his tone softer now that you were closer. He opened the door wider, letting you walk past him.

He had the fire going, for which you were grateful. Flying without your suit always left you frigid afterward, especially since Logan had taken to living in the middle of nowhere nestled in the Rocky Mountains. You had always been jealous Storm didn’t have to deal with that.

The ranch house Logan was living in was quaint. It was a three-bedroom, two-story house built in the 1880s that the previous owners renovated in recent years to feature modern amenities. The floors creaked as you walked, clearly still the original hardwood. He hadn’t done much decorating. It was clear that Charles had been the one to decorate the place for him.

He wasn’t ready to see you. Ready to talk about why he left you in the middle of the night four years ago.

You quickly found your way into the living and dining room. Logan had left pocket doors open in these two separate rooms. Sitting on the couch, you could see through to the kitchen. A large pot was on the gas stove, the flames flickering on low. It smelled like beef stew.

Logan lingered by the entrance to the living room off of the entry space, unsure of what to do next. Watching you settle into the beat-up couch made him feel a mess of relief and anxiety. He was glad to see you were okay. Your hair was shorter, and you must have cut it after he left at some point. Grey hairs were coming through at your temples.

“It’s, uh, good to see you.” Having his eyes on you like this made you feel small again. Like he was leaving you all over again.

Logan nodded, swallowing hard. “You too.”

You smiled at him, and it hurt. Cut him like a thousand glass pieces over and over again. He was getting sandblasted and healing through it.

He walked into the kitchen, trying to distance himself from you and his feelings, and stirred the stew. “I wasn’t expecting company,” he commented his back to you.

Your hands wrung together automatically, anxiety creeping up your throat. Maybe it was a mistake to come here and see him again when he had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do to you the night he left. “It’s fine, I don’t need to eat.”

The wooden spoon clatters against the rest, and he puts it down harshly, making you wince. “Nonsense. I can hear your fucking teeth chattering from here.”

“I’m fine, really. It's just wind chill.”

“Just take the damn food!” Logan bellowed, his hand slamming down against the counter, breathing heavily. “Just take the damn food.”

You were silent for a moment, reeling. He’d never been like this with you before. “Okay.”

Logan closed his eyes, took a deep breath through his nose, and pushed it out of his mouth, trying to steady himself. He didn’t mean to lash out at you, to snap, but just seeing you again put him in confrontation with his past and his own feelings. It was more than he could handle. He grabbed a second bowl from the cabinet, ladling the stew between the both of them. Even after all this time, he took care to give you more potatoes than beef and half his carrots.

“Come sit at the table. Don’t want soup on the damn couch.”

You moved quietly, always did. It unnerved him when he first met you. Your mutation lets you float more than walk and never hear any footfall when you move. He sat across from you, and you could finally get a good look at him. The years had never been kind to him, but he seemed older now than ever. The past three had been the worst of his life. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and the wrinkles on his face seemed more pronounced.

The silence between you was thick with unspoken words, cut only by the scrapping of metal spoons against ceramic bowls. The sound echoed in the quiet house with the TV now shut off.

As you finished up your food, he looked antsy. His left leg bounced up and down, hand strumming on the table.

“Thank you for the stew.” you pipped up, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, well, you look like you needed it. " Despite all these years, he still cared for you and loved you. It was evident to you.

You both sat there momentarily, the silence returning but now filled with different tension. The possibility of reconciliation hurts more than anger.

“Why did you come here?” he puzzled. “After all this time, why now?”

You tapped against the bowl, inconsistent drumming on the sharp ceramic cutting against his ears. “I needed to see you.”

“Bullshit, what do you want”

“Jesus, Logan,’ you finally snapped, lightning crackling as you did. He acted like the wounded party when he was the one who had left you. “Am I not allowed to want to see you?”

You didn’t mean for it to happen. Far past the age that your powers slipping up due to your emotions should be embarrassing. Static electricity builds up around you.

“You left,” you continued, to reel in your emotions, to keep them in check. “You left me without a word, without an explanation, and now you’re demanding an answer as to why I'm here? Do you have any idea what you did to me?”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as he looked to the side. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have this conversation with you. Not now. The night he left, you felt like he was ripping out his own heart, running from his feelings and the truth about the world around him.

It was like he was on autopilot as he stood from the table, knocking his chair off balance as he went. Like a bull in a china shop, that’s how he moved. He could hear you talking and feel the vibrations in the air, but none of the words meant anything. You were begging him to just sit down and talk to you, a pleading whine in your tone.

But he couldn’t.

Just like the last time he saw you, he walked out the door with nothing but the clothes on his back into the night down the porch steps.

The screen door slammed shut as you walked out after him, your body trembling with the intensity of your emotions, your hair standing on end from the static. He never told you what was wrong or why he did what he did. He just left. Tears blur your vision as your back hits the siding of the house, sinking down.

“Logan!” you yelled, calling out after him, voice breaking. “Please just talk to me!”

He didn’t turn around. His figure grew smaller, illuminated by the porch lights flickering from your lack of control. It felt like your heart was breaking again. The ache of his absence, familiar and painful, made all the more unbearable by seeing him again.

───※ ·❆· ※───

“I’m staying here till you talk to me.”

When he finally came back to the house, knowing all too damn well, he had to take care of the ranch, that was the first thing you told him. He didn’t like it but found it hard to argue with you and Charles. It was impossible to change Charles’ mind; he knew you were too stubborn to leave. So he let it happen.

Letting you sleep in the guest bedroom across from his was easier. It felt like he slept better since you had shown up. Even if you woke him up in the middle of the night, the floorboards creaking in protest under your weight as you went pee around 4:15 a.m. every night.

He’d lie in his bed, now fully aware of the space in it next to him, listening to the sounds of the house. The gentle rise and fall of your breathing, the ticking of the clock downstairs, the wind outside. He would never admit it, but you being there gave him a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. The night terrors that plagued him endlessly seemed to ease. For the first time in a long time, he could close his eyes without fear of being swallowed up and spit out by the past.

During the day, you had a tentative routine with him, and he woke up earlier than you did. It had only been a week since you had shown up. You had left at one point to fly back to the school and get some of your belongings. Every morning, you’d go out to the chicken coop, collect the eggs, and make breakfast. It was nothing fancy, some variation of a bread product, eggs, and a protein. Sometimes, it was pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Other times, it was steak and eggs. Today, it was omelets.

You’d help out in other ways, too. Go out and move the steer to a different part of their sectioned-off pasture. You were faster at de-ice the troughs, flying, and whatnot, so he let you take over that job. It was hard work, and your muscles ached like they hadn’t for a long time.

Logan had to admit it’s helpful having you on the ranch. He’s got a greenhouse and some therapy project Charles talked him into, but that’s been looking worse for wear. The weather pattern changed the past couple of weeks, and there’s been an inversion that has left the valley with no direct sunlight. All the plants inside had started to wilt and were on the path to dying, not that he cared. He’d survive without some tomatoes. Then you threw open the door, solar energy pouring out from your palms, and they’d perk right up. You had that effect on plants, hell, people too.

Something about you, even if you didn’t have your mutation, would have made you shine as bright as the fucking sun to anyone. All wild curls and big smiles, a helping hand to those in need—just one of those people who made the world a better place by breathing. You always said you were just doing your part, but god, there was so much good, so much sweetness in you. If he took a bite, he’d even get a cavity. Seeing you wrapped up in an old wool sweater of his, bent over coaxing a plant back to life, made him feel so ashamed of himself.

“The plants in the greenhouse look a lot better this week.”

Some of the leaves crunched underfoot, but most of them were soggy in the mud as you walked over to the steer barn where he was working. One of the steers had a rock impacting his back hoof, and he had to get it out. Logan had just finished spraying it with salicylic acid and wrapping it as you walked in.

“Like I said, you don’t need to be doing all that.” He grumbled, standing from the stool and leading the cow back to the enclosure.

Where he spoke dissent and anger, you heard what he really felt. Fear. He was still that little boy in his father's manor.

“It’s not a problem.”

It hurts to be this close to him and not have him, to know that things could just be better if he were honest.

You'd cook him dinner in the evening, sit at the old wooden table, and comment about the school. About what you’d been up to. You steered away from the elephant in the room. It was best to talk about the mundane things. Sometimes, you’d slip and tell him something more personal than you meant to. He didn’t add much to the conversation because he hadn’t been doing much since leaving you, but he’d chime in about the animals. About the fox that kept creeping around the chicken coop.

Logan still had moments of withdrawal, times when he’d just disappear from the ranch, and you wouldn’t see him till the morning. It was hard on you, a reminder of just how much had changed between the two of you. You used to come home to him after a day of teaching and collapse into his arms on the couch. He’d offer you a sip of his beer, something dark and hoppy, and you’d taste it and declare it’s gross. Logan had told you one day, he’d find a beer you liked, and he’d stock the fridge with it. The closest you’d gotten was some Mangocart IPA that he told you was meant for 17-year-olds, and you told him to go fuck himself.

Healing wasn’t a straight path forward. And healing couldn’t start until you cut out the festering parts. You can never go backward, but you must go forward while looking at the past.

The two of you sat on the porch tonight, twilight hues, deep indigo taking over the sky, and the stars coming out. The first night you were out here with him, you couldn’t stop staring at them. Had a whole thing about them since they charged up your mutation, but he just thought you looked gorgeous. Older but still gorgeous.

That was another thing that scared him. You are aging. He didn’t know how long he had left to live, hell, if he could even die. Some wounds should have killed him many times over, but they never did. They never do. But he's seen you bleeding out and broken after a fight with Magneto, a laceration so severe you had to self-cauterize the wound on the spot and passed out multiple times while doing so. You were getting older, and he was staying the same.

You were 24 when the two of you first met. Your parents were good folks, never held any bias towards mutants, and helped you learn to control your powers and keep yourself hidden from the government when they were still rounding up mutants. The only reason you got found out was because of Cerebro and Charles. With so little training, it should have scared him how strong you were back then. A few years with Charles, and you were deadly. Deadly, but a pacifist.

The air was cold. You could see your breath as you rocked in the rocking chair he had out there. Wafts of pungent tobacco hit your nose as he lit up a cigar. He had stopped when you lived together. You looked over at him, feeling the weight of his eyes on you. As soon as your own met his, he looked back out into the night sky. The silence was heavy.

“Do you ever miss it?” you asked softly.

“Miss what?” he drew another drag from his cigar.

“The school. The kids. The…purpose.”

“I think about the students daily. It was good work. Important work. But…” Logan trailed off, searching for the right words. What were the right words to say without telling you everything? “It got complicated.”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken part of his statement, drawing your knees to your chest. “It’s still important. And the kids still need you.”

After all this time, you still wanted him. Despite every wrong he had done to you and all the harm he caused you. The most pathetic part of him was ready to take your kindness, love, and care and bathe in it. Draw you back into the bottomless pit of his life and ruin you like he had all the others.

You saw him clench his jaw. A twisting wave of guilt and self-loathing ate him up. A man made to destroy and he was afraid to destroy you too.

“The kids will be fine without me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Well, they’ve been fine without me so far.” He shot back, but there was a hollow note in his voice. There wasn’t any gumption behind it.

“They’ve managed, but that doesn’t mean they’re fine. You gave them something no one else could, Logan. They relied on you, they needed you-they need you.” You corrected gently, reaching out to touch his thigh. He was always so warm.

He took another drag, blowing the smoke away from you. “They’ll move on. They’re better off without me.”

“They didn’t move on, and they aren't okay without you.”

Logan looked down at your hand on his thigh, his expression a mixture of pain and something else. Something so soft, buried deep beneath the layers of hardened exterior. He didn’t pull away, but you could see his temptation rising.

“I’m not me without you, Logan. Please just talk to me.” Your grip tightened, the denim rough under your fingers, and you begged him to let you in again. To tell you why he left you, why you haven't heard from him since.

He needed to keep you safe from himself.

“You should leave.” Standing from his chair, he threw open the screen door, letting it slam shut behind him as he walked over to the living room.

You rose after him, chasing him into the house, your heart pounding in your chest. The floorboards cracked up the both of you, echoing in the house. He moved with a desperate, frantic everything. His broad shoulders tense as if he could outrun the conversation you were about to have.

“Why won’t you let me care about you!” You cried out, voice breaking, trembling with the weight of the emotions you've been holding back. He didn’t stop, didn’t turn around, but kept going, and your words spilled out like a damn bursting. “I am begging you to let me in, to let me love you, to stop pushing me away like you do every time! You left me. In the middle of the night, you left. I woke up, and you were gone. And all I have ever asked of you is to let me love you.”

From behind, he looked like a man barely holding together as he reached the living room.

“I don’t want you to.” he ground out. Each word hurt to say, and he hated lying to you.

“We both know that's a lie, Logan. I’m not stupid. I know you love me. Just please let me in. Why won't you let me in?”

“Because I don’t want you to wind up fucking dead!” His voice reverberated off the walls. “Everyone and everything I have ever loved is buried six feet fucking deep, and I don’t want you to join the shithole graveyard that is my life.”

Logan’s voice cut deep through the room, his shoulder hunched as he leaned over the back of the couch. The sob was settling in his chest as he tried to keep it at bay. He didn’t want you to see him crying. It was like he could see you now, lying in that grave, another name added to the long list of people he’d killed or gotten killed.

“You think leaving me is protecting me? You think that by pushing me away, you're saving me?” You hated being an angry crier, the tears welling in your eyes. “I’m already in this. I’ve been in this for years. You leaving didn’t save me—it fucking broke me.”

“I just,” his breath was shaky, knuckles white against the couch as the wood splintered from his grip. “I can’t lose you too.”

You stepped closer, a hesitant hand hanging in the air a moment before it made contact. Slipping over his back, meeting your other hand in the front as you hugged him from behind.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, voice soft and thick with sadness. “I’m right here, and I’m not leaving. I’m not letting you leave this time.”

He shook his head, tilting it backward to keep the tears from falling. “You don’t understand. I keep telling you that I’m cursed, that everyone who gets close to me, everyone that I love,” the crack in his voice hurt you, “ends up dead. And I can’t let that happen to you.”

“You’re not cursed,” you mumbled into his back. “You’ve been through hell, but you deserve a chance at happiness and love.”

His shoulders shook as the sob he had been holding back finally broke free. He crumples against the back of the couch, wrenching at his waist as his head meets his hands. You went down with him, following the curve of his back with your front, holding him tightly as he cried.

“I’m here,” you cooed into his ear, your tears cresting down your cheeks. “I’m here, baby.”

“I don’t deserve you.” he choked out between sobs.

You tightened your hold on him, wishing that the pressure could soothe his aches and worries and make him feel whole again. That it would wash away all the suffering he’s been through and wipe it from his mind, even if you knew that pain was part of what made him him.

“Yes, you do. You deserve love and happiness and to find that with me.”

“I’m just going to hurt you again, like I have before.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me-”

“God dammit, I’ve killed people,” he stood up straight to face you, his voice jumping in volume, shaking you off balance. As you stumbled, he reached out, a hand on your hip to steady you. “I’ve killed so many people that it’d take them years to find all the bodies that I’ve fucking piled up in my 230 years of life. I am a fucking mess of a man who is so goddamn broken, and I don’t want to drag you down in the mess that I have made.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around your face as he did. His beard was grown out, the greys now outnumbered the black, jaw trembling as he spoke.

“And just when I think I can start to be okay without you in my life, you show up, doll, and it ruins all that progress I made, if I even fucking made any in the first place. Make me realize just how damn much I need you. And how much I am so fucking scared of losing you because I can’t take it if I do.”

You reached up, hand cupping his face against the scruff of his beard. “I know that I’ve always known the life you lived before meeting Charles, and it doesn’t scare me. What scares me is the thought of you shutting me out and living out here on your own till you die. You’re not this terrible monster you think you are. Yes, you’ve done terrible things, but you’ve also done so much good in the world. You’ve saved just as many lives as you’ve taken.”

His eyes softened, tongue darting out to wet dry lips that stuck to his teeth.

“I can’t change who I am. I can’t be someone you deserve.”

“I’m not asking you to change.”

His other hand met your hip, both of them squeezing them tightly as his body shook. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” you promised. It was easy to promise that to him. As much as he needed you, you needed him. “You and me, we’ll get through this, and all that's to come.” You wrapped your arms around his neck.

For a long while, he just stared at you, listening to your heartbeat, his eyes searching yours, looking for any doubt or lie in what you said. Fearful you’d sweep the rug out from under him and leave. He couldn’t find any indication of the sort. All he could see was how much you loved him, how much the distance between you had hurt, and how badly you wanted him to let you in.

Logan let out a shaky breath before pulling you into a kiss. His facial hair tickled your face as your lips met. It was intense as his lips moved against yours, his hands sliding down to your ass to pick you up and hold you. You could feel all his longing, desperation, and the despair he had been holding back. His lips were chapped from working outside, not caring for for himself like he should be, but you didn’t mind.

It sent a shiver down your spine, having him so close after so long. He was so warm against you. Your hands slid up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Logan groaned as you did, parting his mouth enough that your tongue could meet his.

The kiss deepened. You could taste the salt of his tears mingling with your own. His grip on your ass tightened, pulling you flush against his body like he was afraid you might disappear. His mouth moved hungrily against your own tongue, nearly forcing yours into submission as he held you close. He felt like a man starved.

You matched his intensity, trying to pour all your love and care into the kiss, your lips moving together in a way that felt both familiar and new. Hoping that enough of your love could spill into his cup and fill him so full it didn’t matter what spilled out his cracks. There’d be more poured in every second. A rediscovery of what the love between the two of you had been.

The two of you have to part far sooner than he liked, your lung capacity smaller than his own. His eyes were still wet with tears as he watched you, your chest rising and falling as you gulped down the air.

He leaned in towards you, placing a small kiss on your forehead as he rested his head against your own, moving your ass to rest against the back of the couch. You had changed your conditioner; it smelled like honey now, but no matter how fragrant it was, it couldn’t cut through the smell of you to him. You smelled like home.

“I’m sorry, doll.” his voice was a murmur against your scalp, heavy with regret. If hammer home the point, he’d bend nail after nail into soft wood, splitting it down the middle with how much metal he’d drive into it, just how sorry he was.

“I forgive you.”

Somehow, he gripped you tighter.“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“I know you will.” you pulled away from your position tucked against his chest to look up at him. “Kiss me again?”

He compiled without hesitation, his lips finding yours so tenderly. It was slow, deliberate, a melting of his body with yours. A promise, shared understanding, a soul tie that bound the two of you together.

Pulling away, his eyes met yours, and all he could see was love.

“You gonna take me to bed or what, big boy?”

Logan moved quickly up the stairs, taking two of them at a time. The promise of having you again was all the incentive he needed. He missed you. The way you felt under him, the way your pussy felt against his dick. How you fluttered around him every time he angled just right, how you smelt. He'd been jacking off to the thought of you for years now, and finally getting to have you again was like a fevered dream.

It wasn’t graceful the way he swung open his door and tossed you on the bed. You bounced a few times, mattress springs creaking as you did, before propping yourself up with an eyebrow raised, questioning him. No doubt he’d never hear the end of it; could hear you nagging him now. “A spring mattress? Logan? You’re made of metal. You can't have a spring mattress. You know this.”

You raised a finger, curling in towards yourself, beckoning him closer. He was a dog on a leash for you, moving like a well-trained animal. If they’d found you during Project K, he would have listened to every command they gave. Hell, he’d roll over right now if you told him to.

His knees enclosed your legs as he crawled over you, dog tags slipping out from his white tank top and dangling in your face. You smelled like him. His body wash and house, mixed with your fruit conditioner. Underneath it all, he could just smell you. The salt on your skin, the heady scent of your arousal. Logan lowered himself, tucking his head into your neck, and took a deep breath, groaning at the smell of you.

“Need you logan.”

That was something he’d missed. That pitched whine in the back of your throat you got when you were all horny and needy for him. Your voice turned raspy and low, caressed his ears so smoothly, and it made him want to purr like a fucking cat. The cadence just scratched an itch in his skull, setting his nerves on fire.

With a low growl, he cradled your face in his hands, thumbs tracing over your cheekbones, relishing the heat coming off your skin. The little bumps and scars that crossed your skin felt like home to him, a map he’d always know how to read no matter how many years passed. He leaned in, lips meeting yours, and it just felt right. It always felt right. He was stupid for trying to run from you all this time.

Your fingers laced in his hair on the nape of his neck, fingernails scraping his scalp. He groaned low, wanton, animalistic, your tongue meeting his own in a warm, wet dance. Logan devoured your lips, his hunger for you impossible to sate. It was messy, desperate, the way he clung to you. Grabbing your waist and lifting you closer to him, you felt like a feather to him, all soft flesh and curves against his hard angles.

He pulled away from the kiss, moving along your jawline and neck, stubble brushing your skin, making it more sensitive than it already was. Not stopping at your neck, he continued down over your collarbones and the expanse of your chest, all the skin he could access in the v-neck you wore. His fingers tugged at the hem of your sweater, pulling it over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra, perfect fucking nipples already perking up for him.

Logan leaned forward, his lips closing around your nipple. You gasped, back arching off the bed, the cool metal of his dog tags stinging against your skin. His tongue swirled around your nipple, fingers digging in at your waist before he pulled away with a pop, your chest heaving. You always looked so beautiful coming under him, over him, beside him, any position in which your naked body was near his and your flesh met in sinful desire.

“Oh,” his voice was ragged like he had fought all his battles and wars at once. “Oh god, doll…”

Testament and faith could be read about in books and studied. The Bible could teach you of Jesus’ preaching, but true faith, true trust in the unknown, could never be read about. It had to be felt and experienced. Logan slid to his knees, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed as he went. The fabric of your leggings felt too thick, separating him from his worship. He could smell you through them, through the lace of your panties. Heady, musky, a whine rumbles through his chest as his face falls against your thigh, nose pressed against the fast of your pussy. He breathes in deep, savoring your scent, his mouth watering like he can taste you.

“Doll, please,” he begged, opening his bloodshot eyes, his voice needy. “Let me taste you?”

“You don't have to ask, Logan,” you replied, smiling. “I’m yours, always yours.”

Logan hooked his finger into the waistband of your legging and panties, tugging them down in one swift motion. The cold air of the room met your skin as he did, but you didn't have long to think about it as he parted your legs, and his hot breath made contact with your pussy. His mouth hovered above for a moment, just wafting in your scent, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Fucking love the smell of this pussy.” he murmured to himself, a low growl, before he dove in, tongue parting your folds.

Wet muscle slid between you so easily before swirling around your sensitive clit, teasing it. His hot breath ghosted over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers flew to his head, trying to find purchase in his hair as he went. Logan was ferocious. He went from your clit to your hole, delving inside you, trying to taste every inch of you. He grabbed your hips, tilting them upwards, making you squeal as he opened his mouth wider on you. Working himself into a frenzy, growling, the vibrations amplified by his adamantium skeleton. It rumbled through you, low and deep, like the base setting of a vibrator.

He takes a second, not quite remembering the perfect rhythm for you right away, but he gets to it quickly. Starts playing with your pussy like a fine-tuned machine the way he has you gushing in minutes. Your wetness coats his tongue, and that engine is firing.

Each stroke, each flick of his tongue on your clit brought you closer to ecstasy. The stars might power you, but he’d have you see them tonight. He devours your pussy like a man starved, primal hunger driving him. You couldn’t fight back, not that you wanted to. All that you could do was let him keep going. Let him take you to the edge. Push you past it. Over it. Your breath hitches, heart pounding in your chest so hard you feel it in your temples.

You push his head back, abdomen muscles flexing, a thick line of spit and arousal connecting Logan’s mouth to your pussy. His pupils were blown wide, eyes unfocused, hungry. A red, ruddy color spread across his cheeks. He felt hard enough to cut steel with his length, rutting against the bed. They move on their own accord, desperate for friction. There’s a growing wet spot of precum at the front of his darkening blue jeans.

“Cum for me, doll, please, I need to taste it.” That low vibration of his voice made you whine, hips bucking against him.

Logan spread his tongue flat and mercilessly kept going at your clit. Your moans grew louder, fingernails digging into his scalp as he manhandled you around like you weighed nothing. He gripped your hips tighter, tilting them further, ensuring he had better access to your pussy, before taking your clit in his mouth and sucking on it. An involuntary squeal came out of you as the added pressure made your back arch.

The suction made your stomach drop, and your toes curl. He kept swiping his tongue side to side, little pulses of suction in time. It left you writhing and gasping. One of his hands released your hips, moving so that he could slip two fingers into your wet hole. You were so soaked he met no resistance, walls clenching around his digits as he slid them in, desperate for something to clamp down on. The pads of his fingers brush against your G-spot, and the lights of the room glow brighter as you begin to lose control. You’re so close so quickly it feels like you can’t breathe from how overstimulating it was.

You push his head back, abdomen muscles flexing, a thick line of spit and arousal connecting Logan’s mouth to your pussy. His pupils were blown wide, eyes unfocused, hungry. A red, ruddy color spread across his cheeks. He felt hard enough to cut steel with his length, rutting against the bed. Your vision blurred, light filling your eyes, your only point of focus in the world, his mouth on your sensitive pussy.

“Taste so goddamn good,” he licked his lips, breaking the strand before diving back in. Your legs shook, thighs clamping down around his ears. You were so close, you could taste it. Logan picked up the pace, his tongue rapidly flicking over your clit, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering hole.

The room was filled with sloppy, wet sounds of Logans eating you out mixed with your cries of pleasure. He presses your pussy harder against his face, moaning as he does. You clench around him, body drawing tight like a bow as your release nears, his fangs scrape on the fat of your pussy lips. It's like you leave your body for a minute, your ears ringing and your heart pumping. Every nerve in your body is lit up.

Logan reaches up to grope at your breasts, and with a pinch of your nipple, you cum with a loud moan that startles the cows, the lightbulbs exploding as you do. Your body trembles and shakes, juices gushing onto his palette like a tall glass of iced tea after a long day of work during the summer, and his thirst is quenched, but his appetite is only hungrier. You felt like you were melting, pleasure pouring out of you.

“Fuck,” you sound winded, “I haven’t had that happen since I was 24.” Your smile shows crow's feet, crinkling comforts near the sides of your eyes as you smile, really smile at him for the first time this week.

“Getting old, kid.”

“Oh, shut up!”

He ducks to the side to dodge the pillow you throw his way.

“You want to keep going?”

“With you, I don’t ever want to stop.”

His eyes go all soft at the corners, caught up in his feelings. “Promise you won’t ever have to again.”

“Good.”

He picks you up and places you up on the center of the bed, grabbing the pillow you threw at him to place under your hips for support. His clothes come off, and his blue Wrangler jeans drop to the floor with his tank top and boxer briefs. The dog tags stay on. He knows you’ve got a thing for them. They glint in the dim light, steel catching your eye.

Rough, calloused hands slide up your legs, starting at your ankles, and he kneels between your legs on the bed. He folds you nearly in half, hooking your knees over his shoulders, his hip meeting yours. You feel the curling wisps of his pubes tickle against the back of your thighs. Always been a hairy guy, told you it's how he was so warm all the time. It makes your stomach flutter.

Logan leans down, capturing your lips against his own in a kiss before lining up his pre-cum soaked tip with your entrance. He eases into you with a hiss, your walls squeezing him tightly. The length was never an issue, he was only about an inch and a half above average, but it was the girth that made your jaw go slack and droll pool out the sides as he fucked you. The stretch is delicious as he slides inside you.

The first inch yielded a slick gushing sound from your pussy, while the second made you gasp, and the third had your walls tighten around him, taking his and your breath away. The stretch felt so good with how fat of a cock he had. One that felt so much girthier than you’d ever imagine it to be. His cock twitched, heavy, inside you, his pulse beating in time with yous.

“Jesus, princess, you’re squeezing me so tight. Relax,” he rolled his hip about halfway in and still meeting resistance. Relax.” It came out like a pant. Fuck you were so tighter, like a vice around him. He wanted to take it slow, cherish you, show you how much he’d been missing you, but he was an old dog, and he wouldn’t last that long with how bad you were squeezing him.

Your hands gripped the sheets, nails cutting the threadbare cheap cotton ones he’d been using for all these years. “Too much Logan.” You could barely breathe, let alone get the words out.

“You can take it, doll, remember?” he groaned, finally sliding in, flesh meeting yours in a wet slap. Your poor little hole stretched to the max as you whimpered. “See? You can take it.” Logan emphasized each word with a thrust of his hips.

He felt his control slipping, thrusts starting to pick up, super strength coming into play. It coiled deep in his belly as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. “Feel so fucking good. Oh fuck. You’re so perfect, perfect little pussy.”

Logan’s hands move to grab your breasts, pushing them together. He plays with your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index finger. His pace is brutal, and the position allows him to hit that perfect spot on your gummy walls that has you seeing stars. He’s all grunts and whimpers, silver tips eclipsing the skin of his knuckles. It gets to the point he wants to go faster, the need to cum inside you far too great, and he lets go of your tits and balances himself on the bed.

The base of his cock swelled, his knot beginning to grow. This was the part you missed the most. The way he’d stretch you out so good on his dick, only to then slip his knot inside you and stretch you even further.

“Ain’t gonna last much longer, doll.”

You moan, reaching down to play with your messy clit. It’s so wet between your legs it’s hard to find any purchase, and the sensitive nub slides back and forth so easily. The bed creaks, the wood floors groan, and the bed frame slams against the wall. He’s getting rougher by the second, his knot starting to press against you.

“Give it to me, I’m ready.”

Logan thrusts forward, his knot sliding in with a satisfying pop, your words spurring him on. He pulses, cock swelling impossibly large before he cums. Thick, hot white ropes paint your insides as he stutters and groans, nearly growls, dropping to his elbows and forcing your knees to your chest. His hips don’t stop moving, still rutting up into you as you play with your clit. You just need a little bit more to push you over the edge.

His voice is gravely in your ear as he careens over you, half squishing you with his weight. “I love you.”

It’s the emotion of the moment that makes you cum. Tears in your eyes and love in your heart. Love is a lot like faith, blind trust in the unknown. A bishop can train his whole life, be a theologian, a scholar of the bible, know all of his god’s teachings inside out, and have less faith than a man who’s lived through hell. Putting your trust into the unknown and praying that good comes back to you. You felt like you were finally home, like that piece of yourself you’ve been missing for years is clicking back into place.

Logan didn’t know romance. He was gruff and awkward, snappy at the random way things. But he stood on the outside when you walked along the street, never let you carry anything, and opened every door for you. Never bought you flowers because he hated the local guy who sold them. But he picked them for you daily on his runs. Didn’t ever wash your laundry, but he folded every piece of clothing you owned and hung up all your shirts, all of it, just because you mentioned hating folding clothes to him once.

He’d never be able to admit to you how much you meant to him fully. When you came into his life, he was close to ending things. There had been so many dark, endless days that only he remembered now. Horrors beyond human comprehension were his burden, shadowing his every waking moment until you came walking into his life.

There’d be a conversation in the morning that probably would rise into an argument. He’d likely storm off, and you’d be there waiting, telling him to get therapy, and this time, he would. This time, he’d go talk to a shrink about the mess in his head and sort it out for you, for himself. This time he wouldn’t fuck it up and leave you in the middle of the night. He’d have the difficult, uncomfortable conversations that activate his fight or flight.

You were soft under him as he lifted off of you, still unable to pull out due to his knot. He rotated the two of you so you were on top, your chests pressed together as he lazily traced your spine.

“I love you too.”

“I love you more, sunbeam.”

“Oh, absolutely not. You know I hate that name.”

thank you @txjis for beta reading

#uzuri writes #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #xmen imagine #marvel xmen #xmen fanfiction #logan howlett imagine #wolverine imagine #logan howlett smut #xmen #x-men

398 notes · View notes