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cxrsed-angel · 2 days ago

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Long Distance Calls| Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut

summary: You call Eddie for you routine phone dates, since you're away at a college and it elevates to phone sex. (late 80s/ early 90s college AU)

warnings: Phone sex, mutual masturbation (Both m and f), use of a dildo. dirty talk, pet names, (lmk if I forgot anything please)

wc: 2k

a/n: Im in college and was missing Eddie so this was the result and wrote this. Sorry for the shitty header. not proof read or beta read

You lay on your twin XL bed in your dorm, lying on your sheets, on your stomach, fidgeting with the pink phone cord on your pink barbie phone you've definitely outgrown, but your dad said if it’s not broken, don’t fix it, so it came along with you to college. Glancing at the clock on your nightstand.

You’ve moved a few hours away for college, and since then, you and Eddie have had to get creative with how you spend time together. You would have date calls a few times a week, and then on the three-day weekends or breaks, you would drive up to Hawkins to hang out, or he would drive to you.

You wait impatiently for Eddie's call, glancing at the clock on the nightstand of your dorm room again, back at the phone, then at the phone, counting the seconds until 10:30 PM. The moment you hear your pink Barbie childhood phone ring at 10:30 PM, right on time, the clock showing 10:30 PM, you pick up, immediately answering.

“Eddie?” you answer, responding faster than usual, too excited, honestly. You really missed Eddie this week. Nothing particularly bad happened this week. You just wished you weren't 5+ hours away from him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you hear his voice greet you, and you immediately start smiling. The familiar pet name makes your heart race, and even though he says it all the time, you still feel giddy hearing it.

“Hey Eddie, how was your day?” you ask as you lay in your college dorm bed, the phone in your bed so you're more comfortable. You grab your brown teddy bear, holding it closely. It's the teddy bear he had given you for your one-year anniversary. You hold on to it as he starts sharing about his day.

“Well, it was pretty boring at the shop. I fixed some cars, the usual. But then I got home to the trailer, and Wayne told me I got a small package from you. Now, I thought it was your usual package with cute little gifts and pictures and stuff, but I was surprised when it was a little naughtier than the usual package from you.”

Since you’ve gone away to college, you send each other little care packages, small gifts, pictures of things you did that month, letters, small candies, and stuff like that every now and then.

You frown, trying to remember what you sent since it has been a while since you sent it, but when it comes back, you feel flustered as you remember. You were particularly horny that month, a few days before your period started, and really missed Eddie, so you decided to take some explicit Polaroids while your roommate was away, it was just supposed to be you in some lingerie and suggesting poses, but with your mood, it escalated to photos of you enjoying a toy. A few with the dildo in your mouth sticking out tongue, and you got a little carried away taking some with your pussy wet evident you had cum while the dildo was on display covered in your arousal.

You smile, flustered. “Oh, did you enjoy it?” you ask, a bit embarrassed, wondering if you had gone too far. You hear him laugh through the phone.

“Did I enjoy it? Baby, I just opened it and almost came in my jeans. I had to call you and hear your voice. I liked the letter you added, gushing about how much you missed me and wanted me to touch you all over, rubbing my hands along your body and eating that pretty pussy of yours. You were really horny, huh, babe.”

You nod, feeling yourself getting wetter at his words and the memory of taking all those photos and how you fucked yourself hard on the dildo, thinking of him wishing it was him. “Yeah, Eds, I was-must’ve been ovulating or something,” you laugh lightly, joking as you feel your body getting hotter.

Eddie hmms, obviously condescendingly, teasing you. “Aww, poor baby. Is your roommate there.”

“No, she is visiting her family for the weekend.” You hear ruffling through the phone speaker for a few minutes before hearing his voice again.

“You must’ve really wanted a baby in you sweetheart, because god. These pictures are killing me. You look so sexy posing for me like this. Fuck.” You're quiet as you hear a rhythmic movement through the phone, and once you hear Eddie quiet moaning.

“Eddie, are you jerking off?” you ask, already knowing the answer. You set the phone down, take your shirt off, and slide your shorts off before picking up the phone again. “Hell yeah, I am, sweetheart. I couldn't help it once I saw that one picture of your pussy wet and swollen from fucking yourself. He grunts as you hear his hand rubbing his shaft.

Your own fingers slip under your shorts and underwear, rubbing your fingers along your wet folds, getting more aroused hearing your boyfriend get off. “You're touching that pretty cunt of yours, got a finger or two circling around your sensitive clit, huh? Imaging it was mine and having my cold rings touching you?”

You nod as your fingers move a bit faster around your wetness, imagining they were his fingers, thicker and rougher compared to yours. Feeling his cold rings against your clit. You close your eyes as the phone rests against your shoulder. You let out breathy moans as you think of the countless times Eddie fingered you when you were back in Hawkins. In his van, under the table while he was waiting for the rest of the party to join the campaign, against a wall at the renaissance fair. You could go on.

“C’mon princess, this only works when we’re both vocal. I know I have a huge, active imagination, but it can only go so far. Need you tell me whatcha you’re doing over there.” His voice brings you back to the call as a rush of heat floods your body, you’re head getting foggy a little by your arousal.

You nod even though he can't see. “Sorry baby, your voice is just really sexy.” You hear Eddie’s deep chuckle from the speaker for a bit before his moan replaces it.

“ ‘Are you touching my girl for me since I can't be there?” You nod as your face flushes as he refers to your pussy as “his girl.” You pretend to be annoyed when he does it, but you love it. It never fails to make you wet. Your fingers continue circling your cunt as you hear his moans and the sound of Eddie pumping his hard cock.

“Yeah, Eddie, I am. It feels good, but I want you,” you beg and whine as you continue touching yourself to Eddie's sounds.”

“She’s missing me, huh? Sounds so fucking pretty, baby, wanna talk to her? Put her on the phone for me, princess.” he groans after speaking a string of curse words coming out under his moans. Your fingers pause, stopping you to turn to look at the phone, confused about what he had just asked.

“Wh-what?” You're met with Eddie’s laugh before he answers.

“I wanna speak to my girl. Put her on, let me hear her.” you pause for a minute, and you nod your head before slowly putting the receiver to your pussy, slipping your fingers in and out, slowly letting Eddie hear the lewd sounds of you finger fucking yourself.

“Oh fuck…there she is, sounds so fucking good, bet she's all puffy and needy and soaking for me, huh, begging to be fucked.” Eddie moans as you hear him stroking his cock through the receiver. You swear it was the hottest sound. You loved hearing him.

“Miss you so much, Eddie, fuck…fuck me.” You whine, begging for him. The phone is still close to your cunt, letting Eddie speak to “her.”

“Fuck I miss her so much, baby, see her in my dreams. God, listen to her, soaking for me isn't she.” You hear his arousal through the speaker, imaging his leaky cock, wishing you could taste him.

“Eds, I wish I could suck your cock, so bad.” You whine and hear Eddie let out another moan.

“Yea baby? Fuck wish you could too. Shit princess, ‘got that dildo I sent you?” you nod, humming in agreement as you sit up a bit.

“Go get it, baby wanna hear how you use it. How you fuck yourself with it.”

“Okay, hold on.” You set the phone down on your bed before hopping off the twin XL bed, going over to your drawer, and grabbing the dildo you have hidden under a pile of socks, along with a bottle of lube.

“I got it.” you pick up the phone, pulling your underwear down your thighs, taking them off, and tossing them somewhere down on your bed. Waiting for Eddie to respond, but you’re met with gasps and groans and the pornographic wet sounds of his hand moving up and down his shaft. Clearly, he didn't hear you.

“Eddieeee, this only works when we both talk,” you repeat his words earlier, getting his attention. You hear him let out one deep groan before he talks to you.

“Shit, sorry, sweetheart, just looking at the picture of your soaking cunt, and its killing me, babe.” you feel yourself getting wetter as you remember the day you took the polaroid.

“You got the toy? Rub it over your pretty pussy. Get it wet for me.”

You listen, grabbing the toy and rubbing it along your slit, covering it in your wetness, teasing yourself with it. The size and length are almost exactly like Eddie’s. You remember seeing Eddie’s face light up when he spots the “Clone-A-Willy” box in the sex shop in Indianapolis, and you remember when he snuck it into your dorm desk drawer while you were moving into your dorm with a pink bow tied around the box and a note. “Not the real thing, but a close second - Eds.” You moan as you slowly rub the head of the toy along your wet folds.

“Jesus-fuck, you sound so good, baby. Go ahead and put it in for me, baby. I Can hear her begging for it over the phone? She’s been so good suffering all this time without me, go ahead and fuck for me.”

You nod, listening to him, slowly sliding the toy inside you. You let out a moan as you push the toy in deeper. You still missed Eddie, feeling his hand grip on your waist as he’s inside you, the way he kisses your chest as he thrusts into you, or the way he would move your leg onto his shoulder fucking deeper inside you. Or when he would manhandle you, flipping you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips so your ass was up, the sting you’d feel when he would plant a few spanks onto it.

But the fact that it was a model of his cock, did help, you moan, feeling the familiar stretch of his thickness inside you.

“Fuck Eddie!” You cry out his name as you continue fucking the dildo into your pussy, the phone lying on the side of your head as you lean back on your pillows, moving it deeper inside you. “Jesus Christ, you sound perfect, like an angel fuck baby. Go on fuck yourself for me, sweetheart.”

You move the toy faster in and out of your achy hole while you’re other hand rubs your clit, the sounds of Eddie jerking off making you wetter.

“Fuck Eddie, I miss you. I miss you so much.“ You moan louder into the phone, getting closer to your release, more from Eddie's moans than anything else, honestly.

“I know, baby, I miss you too, shit. Miss you so fucking much, sweetheart.” He grunts before moaning more, “Goddamn honey, Im…Im about to-“.

You hear eddies moans through the receiver you can tell he's cumming by the sounds of his moans, the string of curses he lets out, and how he gasps before groaning loudly. You can practically see his hard pretty cock spilling his cum onto his hand, probably his stomach too. You wish you could be there, wish he was spilling his cum into you.

You move the dildo and continue to fucking yourself, getting closer as your fingers rub your clit a bit faster, closing your eyes, imagining Eddie hovering over you fucking your deeply, moving your leg over his shoulder, feeling his balls against your pussy.

“E-Eddie…” you whine into the phone, getting closer.

“You close, baby? I can tell, I can hear it. Come on, baby, cum for me. Let me hear her.” Eddie’s voice sends you over the edge, feeling your orgasm wash over you, moaning eddies name over and over. You open your eyes, coming down from your release, dropping the dildo somewhere on your bed. You breathe heavily, grabbing the phone and putting it back to your ear. “Eddie?” you call him through the phone, and all you hear is Eddie’s laugh.

“Sweetheart, that was so hot, Jesus Christ. Next weekend I’m coming up there and fucking you in that shitty twin XL all day.” you laugh a bit, sitting up in your bed, you twirling the cord line around your finger and glancing at the brown teddy bear.

“Promise?” You light up at the thought of spending time with him, seeing him, and hearing his voice in person, touching him. “Yep, I'm taking Friday off, so I can drive up on Thursday and spend the whole weekend with my girl, well, my girls.” You hear him laugh as you hear him shuffling through the phone You roll your eyes at him and his personification of your pussy. You shift, holding the phone with your shoulder as you grab your blanket, pulling it over your legs. “Do you have to go now, or can you talk for a bit?” You ask Eddie, hoping he doesn't have to hang up. You really did miss talking to him.

“No baby, I'm yours all night.”

#angel writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson drabble

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 2 days ago

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Say it back | The Salesman x Wife!Reader |

Summary: Playing jokes with your husband its never a good idea.

Warnings: Obsession - Possessive!Salesman - Suggestive - Unhealthy relationship - Suggestive -

"I love you my Love, have a good day" The Salesman says kissing your lips, checking himself on the mirror one last time before going to the door.

And he stops.

Because the Salesman its a creature of habit. Morning routines have centrain aspects that cant be changed.

And one of them is getting a kiss from you and a "I love you back" before he opens the door to leave and meet the future unfortunated ones for the games.

But he hears nothing, just the soft music from your phone as you eat your breakfast.

The Salesman waits, one, two, up to three minutes.

He goes back to check if he did forgot something. Was this a special date ? No. Did you two have anything planned ? No. Did he do something drastic to you this morning? No.

He leans in front of you, turning the music off.

"My Love" He starts tone calm, way too calm. "I said I loved you"

"Yes, I did hear" Its your response "Can I get my phone back?" You ask him and when he puts it away and leaves his briefcase you know you have done it.

You fucked up.

"Dear wait-" You stand up trying to rasonate with him but he is not listening as he walks towards you like a predator. "I was just-"

You are cut off as he pushes you against on the wall hard. The air leaving your lungs for a moment. Your head does not hit the wall because his hand was in between.

"You were wait my Love?" He asks right into your ear his grip on your arm strong and possessive as his other one goes down caressing your side stopping at your hip. "Please enlight me on what you were doing" He says biting your neck softly

Maybe your brain did not register the threat tone his voice carries or maybe you wanted to see how much you could push him.

"I was having breakfast till you decided to get back and interrump me"

By the cold look he gives you and the shiver that runs down your spine thats both from exciment and fear you know you have made him mad.

"Oh, so you were doing that?" He asks, there is a warning there. He knows what you are doing and he is not liking it.

He takes your neck in one hand giving it a firm grip, its not enough to let yourself without air but enough for it to feel like a real warning and a danger. To let you know just as much as he can love you he can hurt you.

"I will give you a second chance" He says one hand cupping your core making you gasp "And if you answer like a good wife, the good one I know you are I will think on not being too...rough with you"

Maybe. Thats the last word his mind thinks.

"I- I was going to say that I loved you back but I forgot" You lie feeling one finger go inside your pants and past your undewear teasting you. "P-Please I just-"

But he does not believe you. He knows how to read people and hell, he knows how to read you. Part of you was made by him.

"You forgot?" He says adding pressure on your neck and his finger starting to go faster inside you "You forgot how much you love ? Tell me does this happen often ? Or did you wake up and decide to hurt my feelings today ?

He sees your cheeks go red and your breathing faster. He knows he has you were he wants you, but a part of him screams that you need to be punish.

"Should I cut the air your brain is getting and see if a little re start brings your intelligent self back?" He whispers over your lips as his grips turns harder and his finger faster.

Your foggy brain does register the danger and you are quick to say no, he urges you to continue talking.

"I was joking. I wanted to see your reaction if I did not say it back. Im sorry if I hurt your feelings" Tears forms, not from the pain but from the pleasure his finger is giving you, hitting that sweet spot inside you.

The Salesmab smirks at that. He kisses away your tears and gives you a sweet kiss as he lets go of your neck. At the same time he removes his finger form you sucking it clean keeping a intense eye contact as he does.

"Good girl, thats my lovely and intelligent wife" He says giving you another kiss, letting you prove yourself on his lips. But just as you were going to ask for permission he puts himself away from you.

"Keep the same clothes. Dont leave the house today and, you better wait for me on that needy state of you. If you touch yourself, I will know and Love you wont like what I will do, I promise you that"

He turns taking his briefcase back and looking at you over his shoulder.

"I love you my Love" He says once again starting to leave

"I love you too Dear, have a good day at work" You manage to say without suttering.

"Thanks Love, there is cream in the bathroom for your neck" He says before finally leaving the aparment.

Would he have choke you till you passed out ? Defenetly. Its a good thing you are a fast learner.

#squid game imagines #squid game x y/n #squid game imagine #squid game x reader #the salesman x reader #salesman x reader #recruiter x reader

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elleandstufff · 3 days ago

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Do I Like Her? ๋࣭ ⭑

Thanos can’t admit his feelings for you until it’s too late. Or is it…? Thanos/Choi Su-bong x fem!reader

Inspired by the song Stephanie by Nafeesisboujee! Requested by Anon!

Warnings: Dual POV, angst, talking stage, indecisiveness, hiding true feelings, implied smut but nothing described, you both get with other people to try and get over the other, drinking, drug use, jealous!Thanos, ambiguous but hopeful ending, 3.3k words

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The hum of the shitty light above you is enough to make you regret all of your decisions tonight. Your coworker had begged you to come out tonight to some club. That part actually wasn’t so bad. But just before last call, your coworker met some sleazy guy who begged the two of you to come to the twenty-four-hour diner down the street.

Now, your coworker sits in the corner booth with said guy, and the two of them are eating each other’s faces off. You sit at the dingy counter nursing a cup of coffee. You’re already up freakishly early, so you might as well stay up.

“Hey, Señorita.”

A man’s voice infiltrates your ears, but you don’t realize he’s talking to you until you look up from your coffee and see him standing right next to you. He’s tall and lean with purple hair and clothes that make you think he just came from the club like most of the diner’s crowd right now.

“Do you have a name?”

You’re not sure why you tell him, but you do. It’s not often that you entertain these sorts of things, but there’s something special about this purple-haired guy.

“I’m Thanos.” He extends a hand toward you, but instead of shaking it he just cradles your hand in his.

“What’s your real name?”

He pulls a face. “Sorry, babe. I don’t go around giving that out to just anybody.”

You smirk, ready to play along. “Well, I need to know. I’m definitely not going to be moaning Thanos all night.”

His eyes widen. He wasn’t expecting you to be so forward.

“What?” You feign innocence. “That’s why you came up to me, right? Why don’t we just skip all the talk and get the hell out of this dump?”

He smiles and threads your fingers together. “I saw you at Club Pentagon but didn’t get a chance to talk to you. Then I found you again here. That’s got to be fate, huh?”

You let your coworker know that you’re heading out, and she wishes you farewell even though she’s a little preoccupied. You walk outside hand-in-hand with the man you literally just met. His apartment isn’t a far walk, so the two of you set off on foot. The walk will give the two of you a chance to get to know each other a little bit before you end up tangled together in his bed sheets.

“It’s Su-bong,” he says, then repeats himself once you look up at him confused. “My name is Su-bong.”

“So, Su-bong, you do this often?”

“What? Bring girls home?”

You laugh. Based on his demeanor, you’re fairly certain this isn’t his first time doing this. You lift your entwined hands. “No, I meant this.”

He stalls for a minute, like your probing has him questioning everything. Why was he doing this? “No, actually. Just for you, Señorita. What about you? You do this often?”

You can’t help but smile at this man you hardly know a thing about. “Well then I’m honored. And no, this isn’t how my typical Friday nights look.”

You talk more as the two of you walk. You find out that he’s a rapper, which makes sense. He’s a bit twitchy, too. You’ve seen enough drug use in your life to know that he was on something tonight that’s starting to wear off.

You don’t waste any time when you get back to his apartment. He’s rough of course, but there’s a certain tenderness to him that sets your brain on fire. Something tells you that it’s new for him too.

You offer to leave after–even though you don’t want to–but he asks you to stay and get some rest. You had planned to just stay up and get some much needed errands done, but how could you say no? You were already feeling something toward him, which is the exact reason why you didn’t do stuff like this often. You catch feelings way too fast, and apparently even faster when the feelings are for a purple-haired rapper.

He opens up the drawer beside his bed and pulls out a pill bottle that you know is not prescription. He downs a couple and rolls over to face you. “You’ll still be here when I wake up, yeah?” He says it matter-of-factly, but there’s something to his tone that makes it sound almost like he’s pleading.

“‘Course,” you whisper, but whatever pills he took have already taken effect and he’s softly breathing beside you.

It takes you a while to drift off, and you wake before him a few hours later, but you honor the promise you made. He stirs awake not long after, and he seems surprised to still see you in his bed. Something flashes in his eyes–adoration, maybe–but he’s quick to get up. He seems different now, more walled off.

As he moves around his kitchen preparing himself a junk food filled breakfast as if you’re not even there, you try to say your goodbyes. He looks at you with his mouth full. “Oh, let me get your number.”

“So you can ghost me for three weeks and then randomly text me at two in the morning one day because you’re horny? No thanks.”

He stops you before you can get out the door with a sigh, like he can’t believe he’s doing this… “How about I give you my number then? That way you can decide if you want to ghost me or not.”

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

You end up not ghosting him, and Su-bong struggles with how he feels about it. Usually after he hooks up with a girl, he might talk to her for a couple weeks, but it never lasts. Things either fizzle out or he just doesn’t care enough to put the effort in. But with you… there’s something different. Something special. It terrifies him.

You text him. A lot. He’s not good at responding to anyone, so he has to constantly remind himself to text you back. He doesn’t always respond, and oftentimes it’s hours after you sent the initial text, but it’s more of an effort than he’s put into anyone else.

You come over a couple times a week, too. Mostly to hook up, but the visits start getting longer with shared joints and movie nights. He likes the way your bodies fit together. He likes waking up to someone in his bed, and he likes that person being you. But he can’t admit any of this to his friends, himself, and especially you. He knows you like him, he knows you would be so good for him, but he can’t seem to let himself go past good morning texts and tender forehead kisses when he thinks you’re asleep.

One night, he asks you to come to the club with him. Not meet him there, come with him. It’s a big step for him, and he tries not to think too much about it. He pops a pill from his cross necklace just to calm his nerves.

The two of you sit in a booth at Club Pentagon with his friends. Su-bong keeps an arm tightly wrapped around you, like he doesn’t want to lose you. He’s seen the way some of his friends look at you.

“I’m gonna go get another drink,” you shout over the bass-boosted club music.

“I can do it,” he offers.

“No, it’s okay.” You smile sweetly. “I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

He doesn’t realize that he’s staring at your figure the entire time you’re at the bar until he feels his shoulder being nudged. Distractedly, he turns to see Nam-gyu.

“Do you like her?”

“Nah,” Su-bong answers, before he can even think about it. “Just a fling.”

“You sure? Because-”

“Yep, I’m sure,” he answers curtly.

He doesn’t like you that much, right? So why does he feel like shit right now?

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

You’d been talking to Su-bong for a couple of months now. You never put a label on it, but it keeps your life interesting. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish you two could take the next step into a real relationship. Su-bong is not a super affectionate person, so you’ll have to take him in whatever form you can get.

You text him probably more than you should. He hardly ever texts you first, but he keeps responding to you–even if it’s hours later–so you keep texting him. You frequent his apartment more and more often, and he even starts coming by yours. His touches get more tender, his words more soft, and you begin to think maybe you’re getting somewhere with him. You know he probably won’t be the one to make the next step, so you decide to.

One morning you bring it up as you lie with your head on his chest and your legs tangled with his. He’s staring at the ceiling thinking about whatever it is that he thinks about, smoke blowing out from between his lips.

“So, I have this weird work party thing tonight.”

He takes another hit from his vape.

“And like everybody at my work is married and bringing a plus one…”

Another hit.

“So… I was thinking maybe you could come with me?”

He immediately tenses beneath you. It’s quick and he adjusts himself, but you definitely felt it. You quickly sit up feeling like a complete idiot.

He rolls on his side to look at you. You prepare yourself for what’s about to come.

“It’s just… I thought this was more of a casual thing, you know?”

You clear your throat. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, that was stupid. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I mean, I could still come I guess.”

“No, no, really it’s fine.” You get up and start throwing your clothes on as fast as you can without making it so obvious that you’re upset.

He catches your wrist. “You don’t have to leave.”

“I just remembered that I’m supposed to bring a dessert and I don’t have any of the stuff, so I should probably get started on that.”

You scramble out of his apartment before he can say much more. You don’t really have to bring a dessert, but you go to the store in a stupor anyway to try and distract yourself. You spend way too much time baking a stupid cake that tastes only half-good. You go to your work party and get introduced to a wave of husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, and significant others.

You thought you could do this casual thing, but turns out you’re not very good at it.

Texts to Su-bong get way less frequent, while texts from Su-bong are at an all time high. With the roles reversed all of a sudden, you can hardly form responses to his mirage of texts. What is even the point in texting anymore? You’ll never be anything more, so responding just makes you feel stupid.

You meet up for a couple more late-night rendezvous, but one night you decide you can’t take it anymore. You lie awake for hours deciding what you’re going to say when he wakes up. When he finally does, you squeeze your hands into fists to keep yourself from crying.

He’s groggy and barely awake, but he goes for his vape on the nightstand anyway. It’s like he knows this is coming.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

“C’mon-”

“No, Su-bong,” you stand firm. “I can’t do it. I thought I could, but I can’t. I’m sorry I’m not like you.”

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

Su-bong chews up his third or fourth pill of the day. He had taken more than he had wanted, but did he ever get what he wanted? No. Did he deserve what he wanted? Also no. He wanted you–he needed you–but he fucked that up. So now he didn’t deserve you and he didn’t have you. What a killer combo.

When you had asked him to come to your work party, he nearly panicked. He wasn’t the type of guy you take to office work parties. You knew that so why did you even ask? Fuck, this wasn’t your fault. It was his.

He should’ve just said yes. Should’ve just sucked down his fear and put on a nice outfit and a fake smile and shaken hands with all the people from your work that you can’t stand. Instead, he made you do that all by yourself. Who knows, maybe Ji-woon from your job turned out to not be so bad. Maybe you and Ji-woon are sucking face right now in the office break room. Ji-woon doesn’t have to do much to be less of an asshole than him!

And when you’d broken things off, you’d said that you weren’t like him. You couldn’t have been more wrong. He thought he wasn’t like you at first, too. He didn’t think he was the type of person to catch feelings after one night and blow up someone’s phone, but turns out he is that type of person. Just like you. He thought he made it obvious, when he started texting you constantly after declining your work party invitation. It still wasn’t your fault that you didn’t realize. He should’ve spelled it out for you. He wishes he still had the chance. But even if you were right in front of him, he would still struggle to find the words to tell you how he felt. Fuck, why did he have to be like this? It doesn’t really matter. He’s probably never going to see you again.

The girl in the seat beside him stirs. He had completely forgotten about her. If he squints, she almost looks like you. Actually, no she doesn’t. No one does.

“Thanos,” she purrs in his ear. “Let’s go dance!”

Thanos. You never called him Thanos, not even around his friends. He liked it better that way.

She starts kissing his jawline, and he turns so his mouth meets hers. He entertains it for a minute, but then he pulls away. She’s not you.

“Sorry, this won’t work. You should go.”

The girl looks at him bewildered, before calling him an asshole and storming away. Nam-gyu slides into the seat where the girl once was.

“Dude, what’s going on? That’s the third girl this week you’ve fumbled.”

Su-bong wouldn’t call it fumbling. He tried to make it work, tried to forget about you, but he couldn’t. So he pushed the girls away.

“C’mon, dude. Are you really caught up over that girl? I thought you said you didn’t really like her?”

“I do,” he says, jaw tense. “I do like her. So fucking much.”

“Well, then you better tell her before it’s too late…” Nam-gyu gestures toward the bar where a familiar face is sitting.

Su-bong nearly falls out of his seat. You’re here and he has another chance. He’s on his feet and halfway to you when he sees him. Some loser has his arm wrapped around your waist. It’s not Ji-woon, but it might as well be. You know what? Su-bong doesn’t care, he’s going to talk to you anyway.

“Hey, Señorita,” he says, sliding into the spot beside you.

He swears he sees your eyes light up for a minute, until the leech at your side speaks up. “Hey, buddy, she’s spoken for-”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I know him.”

Su-bong pulls you into a tight hug that forces the dude to drop his arm to his side. He wraps his arms around your waist so tightly, and he could just melt when he feels you wrap your arms around his neck. This probably looks really weird to the guy. Good.

You pull away from the hug, so he reluctantly does as well. Then, he starts to lean in to kiss you, and this time you stop him. “You should drink some water, go home, get some sleep.”

Shit. He didn’t realize he looks high out of his mind. At least you’re sweet about it. At least you still care.

“Uh, we gotta go,” the loser at your side says, pulling you away.

He didn’t get to tell you how he felt. Maybe it was too late for the two of you. It was definitely too late. But he still wanted to tell you how he felt. You deserved that much. Now he just needs to find a way to tell you.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The guy your coworker set you up with drags you outside. “That was weird. Who was that guy?”

“My ex?” you say, but it comes out as more of a question. Was that what Su-bong was?

The guy looks at you weird, but then he’s leaning in and so are you. You let the kiss happen. He’s not as good a kisser as Su-bong, but it distracts you at the very least.

“How about we go back to my place?” he says, pulling away.

You pause. You could go back to his place–a guy who actually likes you–or you could go inside to the guy who doesn’t like you back. Instead, you do neither. You let the guy down easy and go home to your empty bed. Maybe one day you’ll be able to move on from Su-bong.

A week or so later at work, your coworker pulls you aside at lunch. “You know that rapper guy you were hooking up with for a while?”

Your heart drops. “Yes, why? Is he okay?”

“Sounds like somebody is down bad.” She laughs. “Looks like he wrote a song about you.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “There’s no way it’s actually about me.”

Your friend hands you her phone that has his Thanos instagram page open. There’s a picture of his new single. The title of the song is your name and the artwork is a blurry picture of the two of you. Your hand flies to your mouth. This is the guy that wanted to keep things casual?

“Says he’s performing it tonight for the first time at Club Pentagon. You going?”

That night you show up to Club Pentagon early, determined to talk to Su-bong about what the fuck is going on. You can’t find him until you spot him right before he’s about to go on. You storm up to him.

“Su-bong, what the fuck!? You tell me we need to keep things casual and then you write a song that’s very obviously about me?”

He turns to you, his microphone in one hand and his other hand fiddling with his ear piece. He looks incredibly nervous, but you can tell that he’s fully sober. “You came.”

You fold your arms stubbornly across your chest. “Uh, yeah, I came. Kinda need to figure out what the hell is going on.”

“We can talk after. I promise,” he says with a shaky breath. “Just listen to the performance, please. And don’t leave without talking to me.”

You nod your head yes and find a spot to listen to his performance. As he performs, you really listen to the lyrics. Not only were they irrefutably about you, they were irrefutably a confession about his true feelings for you. Your heart leaps into your throat. He likes you.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

When Su-bong finishes his performance, his eyes lock onto you and only you. You’re silently crying, tear streaks adorning your pretty face. He waits expectantly, trying to read your emotions. You don’t react at first, your eyes remaining locked onto his. But then… You smile like you’ve just seen the sun for the first time.

⛧°。Masterlist °⛧

Here it is, Anon! Sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoyed it!

Also, I have another Thanos x reader story I’m working on that’s inspired by a song. I’m thinking about maybe making a mini-series of (unrelated) fics based off of songs. So if that’s something you want to see, comment or send me songs that remind you of Thanos (or other Squid Game characters)!

#thanos #thanos x reader #thanos squid game #choi su bong x reader #choi su bong #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #player 230 #player 230 x reader #squid game angst

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bunny-jpeg · 2 days ago

Text

vanilla cone

fernando alonso

request: “God damnit, now all i can think about right now is you licking my cock like its that ice cream cone.” with Fernando Alonso no 108. “god damnit, now all i can think about right now is you licking my cock like its that ice cream cone.”

tags: smut/pwp, ice cream. summer/heatwave, established relationship, teasing, oral sex (fernando receives), car sex/semi-public sex

eros (the valentine's collection)

hot, hot summer. it felt like the heat was painfully oppressive. nothing seemed to help ease it. it was like every cold drink or chilled shower made things worse.

and you only had so much clothes to shed. you had resorted to being in your underwear and a t-shirt. both were covered in sweat. fernando seemed unaffected by the heat, much to your bitterness. you assumed it was because he was dripping with sweat every weekend from the intense heat of racing cars for over twenty years. this heatwave would feel like child's play.

but you were melting. so with a little bit of begging you convinced your loving, generous, kind boyfriend to go get ice cream.

fernando kissed your cheek with a gentle affection while you waited for your ice cream at the stand. you smiled a little even though the heat was making you uncomfortable.

you believed that fernando's kisses could cure anything. you leaned up against him and kissed the side of his face in return. you asked, "doesn't the beard make everything hotter?"

he rubbed he facial hair and replied, "well, i think it makes me look hotter." then laughed a little, he then asked you, "how are you feeling? still warm?" he placed a hand on your sweaty forehead.

"yeah, warm. more like boiling hot." you said, "but don't worry, i don't feel like i'm going to faint." you flashed him a smile before your order was called and you went to get it.

fernando watched you. he smiled at you when you returned with two cones in hand. one vanilla and one strawberry. he took the strawberry one and said, "thank you, my love." then kissed you once more before you headed back to the car.

you looked a little more relieved with the cold treat in your possession. your eyes closed when you took the first lick and when you let you a small moan, fernando felt the noise go straight to his cock.

he brushed it off and got an arm around you as you got back to the car. "let's get you out of the sun. too hot for you."

once in the car and out of the direct sun, you were able to enjoy the ice cream more. you excitingly ate it. fernando eyed you as he ate his own, his free hand on your thigh while the two of you attempted to cool down. he asked you, "how does it taste?" you looked with a small sparkle in your eyes and he laughed, "you must be enjoying it."

"i am. i needed it to badly, i was dying back home." you said with some of the ice cream on the side of your mouth. the white substance was a bit erotic in fernando's eyes, which caused him to swallow.

"happy about that. i don't want you to overheat." he tried to brush off the feeling as he wiped the corner of your mouth with his thank you being a pleased noise from you which only made his cock harden in his shorts.

his arousal for you only grew until you were nearly done with the cone. you smiled once it was all finished and fernando took you by the chin softly. you glowed under his touch.

"hi, honey." you said as you temperature cooled.

"hello, my dove." he wiped your cheek with his thumb while he finished eating, "you enjoyed that? looks like you did. sadly you gave me a small problem." you looked at him curiously and he added, "god damnit, now all i can think about right now is you licking my cock like it's that ice cream cone. it turned me on so much."

you kept your gaze on him while your hand went to the front of his shorts, "i'm sorry, honey." you said, "i didn't mean to tease you."

fernando kissed your lips tenderly, "don't be. you couldn't help it, you had been so warm all week. any relief from it would make anyone moan. sadly, you are sometimes simply too attractive." his voice was tender and you held a smile for him.

you soon got his cock out of his shorts. it excited him at the sight of your hand around his length. he licked his lips and kept his eyes on you.

"as good as ice cream?" he jokingly asked as he finished the cone. he played with your hair. you two were parked in a quiet corner with the windows rolled up. they were tinted as well, which allowed you some privacy. he kissed your cheek before you leaned over the console to lick his cock. he shuddered and felt a bloom of pleasure in his chest.

you kept your lips wet as you slowly moved your head up and down his length. you held his knee as you kept yourself steady. your movements were an even pace as you mouth went deeper against him.

it was heavy in your mouth, but in the best way possible. you enjoyed sucking his cock. you knew people loved massive cocks, but fernando's cock was just perfect in size. and it made you excited all over. you moaned as you moved your head. you even put more action with your body to go deeper and deeper. it made your lover feel like he was on cloud nine.

"my dove." he cooed as he played with your hair, you continued the pace. you took him so well, it made his hips rise a little. he shakily exhaled and dropped his hips. he leaned further against the driver's seat and let you work yourself on him. he said softly to you, "every inch of you is perfect. so beautiful. i am happy that you are all mine. i know this isn't going to cool us down, but i can't help myself with you. it is like being given an angel, i wish to touch and worship you." he held onto you a little tighter as the movements continued.

you had come a long way with pleasuring him. he taught you everything that excited, and also where your limits were. sex was about fun, about equals.

you once told him that you enjoyed pleasuring him with your mouth, even with the dull ache in your jaw from too much of it. but you were eager and it made fernando experience heaven. he held on a little tighter and shifted as you went as deep as you could take him. spit traveled down your chin and onto his bells. he then groaned through a tense jaw.

you moaned a little bit and rubbed your thighs together. you felt excitement through your core. you had a feeling when you got home, fernando would happily return the favour. he always spoiled you, loved you in such a deep way. his lover for you was unmovable.

from the moment you met, you knew you two would always be together. through every racing season and heatwave you were intertwined and loving in a deep way. and fernando's love only got deeper as your nose grazed his trimmed pubic hair. you clutched his legs tighter as an anchor to move faster.

you kept your pace steady and let your chin grow covered in spit. you groaned out loud. fernando laughed lowly, an airy laugh. he was greatly enjoying this.

he knew you were aroused, turned on by the feeling of his cock in your mouth. his hand in your hair and even the near public location you were in. he said lowly to you, "you look good with my cock in your mouth. it is where it belongs." he watched you squirm.

it was cute.

"you look beautiful. all mine." he said with affection in his tone. there was love in his heated gaze as he watched you pleasure him. he rolled his hips slightly and you moaned a little louder. your mouth felt amazing. he loved you, everything about you. he felt pleasure grow in his core as the excitement worked through his blood.

you looked up at him and tried to smile with his cock in your mouth. it was quite an endearing sight and it made him chuckle lowly once more. he found you simply so endearing. you continued to move your head and could feel the weight of him in your mouth as drool stuck to your chin.

"oh, baby. my dove." me mused, "you are the light of my life. the most beautiful thing i've ever seen. you're everything to me." he shakily exhaled.

you felt yourself glow under his words and he held onto you to push your throat a little further down. you felt a flutter in your chest as his words made you pulse soar. you were pressed a little further down and felt him tense up.

he rocked up into your throat and you let yourself relax around his length. he tensed up quickly and you moaned as he came down your throat. the salty taste flooded your taste buds and you happily swallowed.

it wasn't the worst taste in the world, a benefit of fernando's primarily vegetarian diet. you slowed your movements to a stop and swallowed the last of it. you then pulled your mouth away and pushed back your hair. you panted heavily, able to properly breathe. the car console pressed against you and it had begun to feel a bit painful.

you relaxed back into the passenger's seat. any coolness you felt was replaced with heat from pleasure. you exhaled, "wow." you then smiled at him. he leaned over and kissed you on the lips. when he pulled away soon after, he put his cock back into his pants. you then remarked, "i think i'm hot all over again."

fernando laughed, still a bit out of breath, "ah well, maybe we can go back home and find another way to cool off. or, we could got even hotter." then gave you a wink.

you rolled your eyes playfully and said, "you're insatiable, nando. but let's go home." and placed a hand on his thigh before you shot him your own wink. there wouldn't be a lot of cooling down back home, but many more orgasms instead <3

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revelboo · 1 day ago

Note

I'm late but maybe a valentine's scenario for first aid? Or any crumbs at all would be perfect too pretty please!!!!!!

Valentine’s Oneshot- First Aid

First Aid x Reader

• “Miss me?” Returning to his habsuite, he spots you huddled in your blankets just your face visible. Those pretty eyes watching him. Setting down his tray of energon goodies and that little box that he’d gotten from that crook for an exorbitant amount of shanix, he nudges the box your way with a servo. “I have a surprise for you.” Watches you stand and walk to him as he sits on the edge of his berth, little fingers fisting your blanket. And you’re just so cute, little face upturned before your attention drops to the box. Smiling, he pops an energon goodie into his mouth. “Go ahead. That’s all yours.”

• Sitting down near the box, you watch him select another of his little glowing snacks before you open the box and inhale. “Where’d you get this stuff?” Cookies, granola bars, canned pasta, is that a candy bar? Chocolate? Not even hesitating, you snatch the candy bar and tear it open. Because this stuff isn’t those awful bars Pharma keeps giving him for you to eat. Real food. “Chocolate. Oh, I missed chocolate.”

• “I know a mech,” he mumbles as you pretty much inhale the little brown bar like you’re starving. And he feels guilty watching you. Makes him feel like he’s been neglecting you. Appetite failing him as you reach for another package and pull out a black and white disc to shove in your mouth. Eating quickly, urgently. He has been failing in taking care of you, hasn’t he? “I’m so sorry.” How long have you been going hungry and not saying anything? How has he not noticed? He’s been feeding you Pharma’s little bars formulated for your kind based on his scans. Maybe he’s not been giving you enough to eat?

• Head lifting guiltily, you realize how it must look to him to watch you scarfing food like you’re starving. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Really. Pharma’s nutrient bars are just…” Disgusting? A form of particularly cruel and unusual torture? Something you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy? “Different,” you settle on with a weak smile. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask if whoever he’d gotten the food from also has a way to get you home, but asking that makes you feel guilty. You like First Aid and honestly, he acts so lonely it makes your heart ache. Always reaching for you, worrying over you.

• “I can get you more human food.” Needs to, because watching you eat like you haven’t seen food in forever hurts him. “I mean, I will. Of course, I will.” Sliding off the berth onto his knees, he hooks a servo against your back and rests his cheek on his arm. “You know you just have to tell me if you need something.” Tip of his servo sliding against your spine, he stills when you lay a hand on his servo. “Anything at all.” Wants you to be happy. To take care of you.

#transformers x reader #first aid x reader #tf first aid

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prettyboyeddiemunson · 1 day ago

Text

perfectly imperfect.

summary: steve harrington comes into your campus workplace and flirts with you every chance he gets. after months of turning him down, you finally give in and decide to give him a try. after all, he’s the hottest ticket on campus among the girls, so there has to be something to it. right?

word count: 3.5k

warnings/notes: smut, breast play, oral sex (brief; f receiving), grinding, handjob, premature ejaculation, catching feelings

a/n: this is a college au with steve, based on a dream i had! i’m thinking he’s probably right around the age he was in season 4, so that would make him around 19-20 in this fic. as always, reader is 18+ and sorry if anything like this has been done before! i don’t have time to read fic much anymore, so i don’t know what is out there. i hope y’all enjoy!

also shoutout to my bestie @andvys for suggesting I write this dream as a one shot! ily and thank you for everything 🥺

_____

“what would you recommend, babe?”

you had to suppress an eye roll at the nickname. it was nothing new with steve harrington; every time he walked into the cafe where you worked, it was always the same old song and dance. he would walk in, smile at you, flirt, ask what you recommended, and would eat or drink it while sneaking the occasional glance at you. he was a blessing and a curse that you just couldn’t escape, not even outside of work. you had two classes with him–World History and Foundations Mathematics–and he would try to chat you up then, too. you knew his reputation around campus wasn’t a very good one; he was quite the player, apparently. you overheard girls talking about him at work and in class, talking about the time they had with him and how he never called or spoke much to them when he was done. you weren’t about that sort of life, but you had to admit you were growing curious about him. he had to be good if he was getting around and getting a reputation; the girls never said he was terrible. in fact, the opposite was true. you had been on many dates since you started going to college two years ago, but nothing ever stuck. you were mostly having flings yourself, but at least you let those down easily and didn’t just leave them hanging like he did.

“i recommend what i always do every time you come in here,” you said. “the scones are good today; get one of those.”

“i think i have an appetite for something else,” he said, eyeing you up and down. “i think i want to experience something a little sweeter.”

“you think you’re really smooth, don’t you?” you asked, chuckling. “do you realize how many guys come in with the same line every day?”

“damn, i’ve got competition?” he asked, shaking his head. “here i thought i was special.”

“oh, you’re special, all right,” you said, grabbing a scone and putting it on a paper plate. “i don’t think you realize just how special you are.”

“well, that’s a relief,” steve said, digging in his pockets for money. “i really wish you’d go out with me, though.”

“why?” you asked. “so you could fuck me and leave me, like you do all the rest?”

he shook his head. “no, it would be different with you. you’re different.”

you laughed, shaking your own head. “how many women have you used that line on?”

“come on, harrington,” someone said from behind him. “i want my coffee.”

“just a minute,” he said, leaning in close to you. “one date. we don’t even have to have sex, if that isn’t what you want. just give me a chance.”

you eyed the line behind him, and knew there was no getting out of it this time. he wasn’t going to let up until you gave in, apparently. you sighed, rolling your eyes before meeting his. “fine. one date and i’m calling the shots.”

“thank you,” he said. “that’s all i wanted.”

“yeah, i’m sure,” you said. “it’s two dollars for the scone.”

he handed you two one dollar bills and a ten. “a little tip for you, babe.”

you went to hand it back, but he was already gone, the line moving forward as you were forced to be professional yet again.

****

the night of the date came faster than you wanted. he had pestered you about it every day in class and at work, until you finally set it for the following friday night. you were off work and didn’t have many classes that day, so you thought it would be perfect. it would give you a chance to get ready, to prepare yourself, and to brace for what might happen. you’d been giving it a lot of thought since he’d asked, and you decided that maybe you wanted to sleep with him, after all. you would see how the date went first, of course, but you had no reason to expect that it would be bad. steve seemed like a decent enough guy; he was just a playboy. most men his age were, though, especially college frat boys, so you didn’t know what else you honestly expected.

you spent most of the afternoon working on yourself, and when the date finally came, he came to your room to pick you up. he couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful you looked, and you had to admit that he looked handsome, too. he was wearing a light blue button-up shirt that was done up to just below his neck, showing off a spray of chest hair underneath and accenting his muscular arms. he wore blue jeans that were nice and not torn, brown dress shoes, and his hair was done up in its usual fashion. he looked damn good; even you had to admit that. you followed him as he walked, and he offered you his arm after a little bit. you took it, feeling your heart flutter as you did so. you had already decided, upon seeing him, that you were going to sleep with him. you couldn’t wait to break the news to him at the end of the night.

he took you to a nice restaurant just off campus, an classy little italian place that served the best food. you’d been there a few times, but never on a date. steve paid for everything, and when you were both walking back to campus, you decided to spring the news on him. you stopped walking and he did, too, giving you a puzzled look. you just smiled at him, hugging yourself for a moment before walking over and standing directly in front of him.

“so i made a decision,” you said. “one that i think you’re going to like.”

“what decision is that?” he asked.

“i think i wanna sleep with you tonight,” you said. “if you’re up for it, i mean.”

“i’m always up for that,” he said with a chuckle. “but why the sudden change of heart? you seemed pretty adamant to not sleep with me before now.”

you shrugged. “i guess i couldn’t live with myself if i passed up on steve harrington.”

he laughed. “well, i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i passed up the most beautiful girl on campus, either.”

your cheeks heated at that, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze. “so…it’s on, then?”

“it’s on,” he said. “where should we go? my roommate is out with his girlfriend tonight, so my room might be the best bet.”

“okay,” you said. “let’s go there, then.”

he walked you to his dorm building and up to his room, which was, in fact, empty. it was a little messy, with clothes strewn about the floor, fast food wrappers on the desks, beer bottles hidden not-so-skillfully under the two beds, and posters of half-naked women adorning the walls. you had to resist rolling your eyes for the millionth time; it was such a typical guy room that it was almost hilarious. steve walked over to the bed on the right, sitting down and gesturing for you to do the same. he kicked off his shoes and you did the same, taking a seat next to him as he turned to face you.

“is it bad that i’m a little nervous?” he asked.

you looked at him, shocked. “you, nervous? why would you be nervous?”

he shrugged. “i don’t know. i guess because i’m not used to being with a beautiful woman like you.”

“yeah, and how many girls have heard that?”

“come on, i’m being serious.”

“so am i.”

“i’ve never really used that on someone. you’re the first.”

“wow, i feel special.”

he put one finger under your chin, tilting your head toward him. “you are special, though. at least you are to me.”

“yeah, yeah,” you said. “are we doing this or not?”

“yeah,” he said, drawing you in closer. “come here.”

he put his lips to yours, kissing you gently at first. it stayed like that for a little bit, his lips working softly against yours as you followed his lead. soon, though, he was kissing you a little harder, his tongue pressing between your lips as they met. he mewled softly, grabbing your hips and pulling you into his lap. you straddled him, cupping his face as he kissed you more heavily. you whined, kissing him deeper as he began bucking his hips into yours. you picked up on his cue, grinding against him as you continued to make out. he groaned, grabbing your ass and guiding your movements. you moaned as well, continuing to move on him as he kissed you harder.

“fuck,” he said against your lips. “that feels so good.”

“you’re already getting hard,” you observed. “i can feel it.”

“i can’t help it,” he said. “you just have that effect on me.”

“oh yeah?” you asked, smirking at him as you leaned down to kiss his neck. “well, i feel pretty flattered, then.”

“i really wanna get your clothes off,” he said, tilting his head back to give you more room. “can i?”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “not yet. i wanna keep doing this for a little bit first.”

“you’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?” he asked with a groan.

you nodded. “that’s right.”

“you’re such a tease,” he said. “but that’s okay, i like it.”

“oh you do, huh?” you asked, toying with the buttons on his shirt.

“hey, i thought you said we had to wait.”

“i said you had to wait. i didn’t say anything about me.”

“that hardly seems fair.”

“i’m the one calling the shots here tonight, remember?”

that quieted him, and he mumbled a word of permission. you giggled, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing him back on the bed. you started kissing down the middle of his chest, down his stomach to the top of his jeans, and then slowly back up. his breathing was slightly heavier as you worked on him, and he drew you in for a passionate kiss as you came back up. he pulled you on top of him again, where you resumed grinding him for the moment. his hands squeezed your ass, kneading the flesh there as you rocked against him. you whined, moving a little faster as he gasped against your lips.

“you’re gonna make me cum already if you keep doing that,” he said. “please, can i take your clothes off?”

you giggled, nodding. “fine. but not the bra or the panties yet.”

he eagerly removed your shirt and pants, discarding them to the floor with the rest of the clothes. he studied your body with hungry eyes, his pupils enlarging as he took in every detail. you couldn’t help but flush under his gaze, your cheeks hot as he studied you. you pushed him back down, kissing him hungrily, your hips moving again as he slapped your ass. you laughed against his lips and you could feel him smiling, so you kept going. after a minute, steve’s hands found the back of your bra, playing with the clasp. you smiled, knowing that you’d tormented him enough, and you drew back to grin at him.

“you can take it off now,” you said.

“i can?” he asked.

“yep,” you said. “go ahead.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. he practically ripped the garments from your body, taking in every detail of your body as he did so. he licked his lips as he studied you, his eyes moving from head to toe and back again. your cheeks turned hot under his gaze, and you reached out to pull him closer. he went easily, his body pressed flush to yours as you chuckled.

“I think it’s your turn now,” you said. “it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

he nodded, hastily doing away with his clothes. as he did to you, you observed him from top to bottom, your eyes remaining glued on his cock. he was bigger than you expected, with good girth and even better length. a large vein ran up the underside, and his tip was pink and already oozing precum. you reached out to stroke him, and his lashes fluttered as he moaned under your touch. he looked at you with heavy eyes, his lips parted as his cheeks began to flush. you smirked at him, flicking your wrist as his body jerked slightly.

“who has the power now, huh?” you asked.

“you do,” he said, rutting into your hand. “god..”

“you know what I want you to do?” you asked.

“anything,” he said. “i’ll do anything you want.”

“i want you to eat me out,” you said.

“can i?” he asked. “please?”

“mmm hmm,” you said. “go ahead.”

steve turned you over so that you were lying flat on his bed. he kissed your neck, stopping at your breasts to give them some attention. he kissed over each one, sucking one nipple feverishly as he rubbed the other with his fingers. you moaned softly, grabbing his hair and giving it a slight tug as he, too, moaned. you giggled, running your fingers through his hair as he continued to work. he shivered, his eyes trailing up to look at you as he sucked your nipple a bit harder. you arched your back, bucking your hips impatiently as he trailed one hand down your body. he ran his fingers over your clit, barely ghosting it as you gasped. he smirked against your skin, his fingers ghosting your folds next. you wanted to slap him for being such a tease, but it felt so good that you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“you’re so hot,” he said, his hands coming up to squeeze your breasts. he moaned as he watched your nipples harden even more, his thumbs circling them. “the hottest girl i’ve ever seen.”

“oh yeah?” you asked, whining as he started kissing his way down your body. “am i hotter than all those other girls you’ve been with, or did you use that line on them, too?”

“no, just you,” he said, winking up at you as he knelt between your legs. “i swear it’s just you. i told you, you’re different.”

you wanted to roll your eyes, but you didn’t. you were curious as to what he would be like, and now wasn’t the time to offend him or piss him off. you would take him at his word for now; it’s all you could do. you watched as he kissed your inner thighs, painfully slow, and as he kissed around your mound, also painfully slow. he was kissing anywhere and everywhere but where you really wanted him, and you almost pushed his head there. but you didn’t want to do that, so you waited, letting him get it out of his system. he did it again, a little faster, and then finally he was right where you wanted him.

his mouth felt like heaven, and it was a feeling that you’d never felt before with anyone else. his tongue was like velvet, wet and soft and perfect. he lapped at your folds lazily, using the tip of his tongue at first to tease you further. you moaned, sitting up on your elbows to watch him as he looked up at you. he groaned as he pressed his full tongue against you, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit and then back down. he did the same motion a few times, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. you arched, falling back on the bed and writhing as he sucked harder.

‘steve…” you moaned. “that feels so good.”

“oh yeah?” he asked, and you could feel him smirking against you. “you think it feels pretty good, huh?”

“yeah,” you said. “you’re good at this.”

his smirk widened, and soon he was fucking you on his tongue. he replaced that with his fingers after a few minutes, paying attention to your clit as he sucked again. his tongue swirled the small bud, moaning against it to add vibration. you gasped and bucked your hips, feeling the tightness beginning to settle in your lower stomach. you didn’t think you’d be so close already, but it had been awhile since you’d gotten off–with yourself or with anyone else. you were pent up, and it was about to come to a head very soon.

“i’m close already,” you told him. “please keep going.”

“already, huh?” he asked, grinning up at you.

“don’t flatter yourself,” you said. “it’s just been awhile.”

“sure,” he said, winking at you. “i’ll take your word for it.”

he kept going, fucking you harder on his fingers and sucking your clit harder. he shook his head back and forth, his eyes on you as he kept going. it only took a few more minutes before you were falling apart, cumming hard as you cried out his name. he kept going as you experienced your high, going slower and more gentle, watching as you arched your back, writhed, and tugged at his hair. he moaned, stopping once you came down from your high. he sat back and looked at you, and you could tell by the look on his face that he was proud of himself for what he’d just done.

“that’s a first,” he said. “usually i have to go for twenty minutes.”

“you poor thing,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “how ever will you survive?”

he chuckled, kissing his way back up your body. “you’re so sassy. i love it.”

“come here,” you said. “i wanna pretend to ride you.”

“pretend?” steve asked. “why not do it?”

“because i wanna make you work for it, that’s why,” you said, smirking at him.

“but i’m about to burst already,” he nearly whined.

“now who’s the one who might cum too soon?” you teased. “come here.”

he lay back on the bed, tucking his arms behind his head. “okay, babe. i’m here. do whatever you want to me.”

you straddled him, positioning yourself over his erection. you began to grind against it, moaning at the heavy, throbbing feeling of him against you. he hissed, his hands coming out to grab at your hips. you kept going, gliding along him at a steady pace as he looked up at you. he leaned up after a few minutes and started sucking at your nipples, lying back against the pillows and pulling you with him after a moment. you moaned, biting your lip as you started moving a little faster.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he said, and you could tell that he was right. he was twitching, his cock throbbing against you as you continued to glide. “please.”

you giggled, getting off of him and taking his cock into your hand. “tell me what you want.”

“I—“ he began, but it was soon over. he came all over your hand, his body in spasms as he bucked into your hand. he squeezed his eyes shut, digging the heels of his hands into them as he came down from his high. “fuck, I knew that was gonna happen.”

you chuckled, holding your hand up to your mouth. “look at me, steve.”

he did so, looking at you with heavy eyes. you started licking the cum off of your hand, making eye contact with him as you did so. he moaned as he watched, and pulled you down for a kiss after you were done. you lay next to him, snuggling against him as he held you close. it was silent, save for steve’s heavy breathing, and you opened your mouth to say something. he beat you to it.

“wow,” he said. “i never…that’s never happened to me before.”

“no?” you asked. “never? not once?”

“no,” he said, shaking his head. “i think it’s because i like you so much.”

you looked up at him. “you do?”

“I do,” he said. “you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met before, y/n. i think I wanna keep you.”

you smile at him, leaning up to kiss him. “you wanna know something?”

“what?” he asked, brushing some hair out of your eyes.

you kissed him again, a bit more passionately. “I think i wanna keep you, too.”

—

taglist: @andvys @littledemondani @etherealxwitch @eddieschains @happylilthought @trashmouth-richie @eiightysixbaby @thisbrokencapulet @sunkillerencoder @thatredlipped-classic

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fic

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hivemuthur · 23 hours ago

Text

Nothing's New - Ch.6.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit!

AU modern era, lovers to enemies to lovers, getting back together, angst & smut present

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5.

word count: 8,8K (sorry!)

warnings: angst, unsafe sex, dacryphilia, spanking, d/s undertones

tag: #nothings new

author's note: It's Sunday where I am lol. No real notes, just thank you for coming with me on this journey, it's very weird to bear your soul like this and people reacting well, never happened to me before. Moments like this, I love internet. @rennethen beta read 🖤

Cross-posted on AO3

—

It took a long time for you to part on Sunday evening. You stood in the hallway, arms wrapped around Viktor, his arms wrapped around you, and only the sound of breathing surrounded you both. He pulled away first, placed a hand on your cheek, and said, “Think about everything. And let me know.”

You nodded, and a question—the answer to which you so desperately needed—was resolved before you even mustered the courage to ask.

“Come on Friday. I’ll text in the meantime? Or call?”

“I would like that,” you admitted with a relieved sigh, and Viktor offered you a kiss on the forehead. When you finally stepped out through his door, he lingered in the frame until the lift swallowed you.

The week passed in a diluted blur of working, eating, and sleeping, interrupted by little earthquakes in the form of Viktor’s messages and brief calls. Nothing with significant push or pressure—just simple, casual chats that let you know he hadn’t forgotten you, and made sure you wouldn’t forget either. And each one made your face beam in a way that earned you silly and curious “Who is that?” questions, until you were red-faced with a juvenile blush.

It happened every time your phone buzzed. You’d be in the middle of scanning through data, only half-listening to a coworker’s offhand remark, when you’d catch a glimpse of his name on the screen, and suddenly, the rest of the world blurred at the edges.

I am convinced my students are attempting to end me. I asked one of them to justify their methodology, and they said, “I just had a feeling.”

A barely suppressed laugh slipped out before you could stop it. You masked it with a cough, ignoring the glance your colleague shot you from across the table.

Another time, you’d been elbow-deep in paperwork, eyes dry from staring at the screen too long, when your phone lit up with another text:

I hope your day is going well. Eat something before you get grumpy.

You scoffed but still reached for the protein bar you’d left untouched beside your laptop.

And then there were the messages that made your stomach turn weightless, that left you pressing your lips together to fight off a giddy, ridiculous smile.

I dreamt of you last night. It was... pleasant.

It was impossible to focus after that. You stared at your screen for a full five minutes, rereading the words like they might change or disappear. Your mind whirred with possibilities, until the sound of your name snapped you back to reality and you scrambled to act as if your brain hadn’t just short-circuited.

Not once had he asked what you were thinking. Not once had he pushed beyond a sweet Goodnight call in the evening and a Good morning text when you woke up. It made the days more bearable, but it also made new questions rise. Is this trust already? Or just caution?

You faltered on Wednesday, when there was no message to greet you. And then no message to remind you to drink water.

You told yourself it was fine. That he was probably just busy. That this wasn’t some sort of test. But by lunchtime, the silence had settled too deep, turning over thoughts you didn’t want to examine. What if he’d changed his mind? What if he was waiting for you to make the next move? Or worse—what if this was a quiet way of pulling away? Your sanity was wearing thin.

You weighed your options, over and over. If you texted and he didn’t answer, would calling be too much? If you called first and he didn’t pick up, at least you could still send a text after. But would that make you seem desperate?

It took another ten minutes of pacing before you finally pressed the call button, cringing at the way your heart was thundering in your chest. The dial tone felt impossibly loud. One ring. Two. Three—

“Hello?”

And just like that, the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding slipped out of you. “Hi! Oh, um… why are you whispering?” You blurted out the words in a rush, voice pitched higher than you intended.

There was a pause, followed by Viktor’s voice, low and steady, tinged with quiet amusement. “I’m in the middle of a lecture—”

“Oh shit, Viktor, I’m so sorry!” you gasped and started to whisper yourself, as if the class could hear you. You winced, clasped your hand to your forehead and hoped that Viktor didn’t hear the sound of the slap.

“—but I am happy to hear you,” he continued smoothly, the warmth in his tone easing some of the tension gripping your chest. “Let me call you after?”

And he did. And you talked about nonsense until Jayce caught Viktor twirling his hair, hunched over his desk like he was trying to hide.

This was your week—full of insignificant, annoying events that conglomerated into something called life, interrupted by small Viktor moments. And for Viktor, it was small you moments.

And even though a massive weight had been lifted off your chest during that session of helpless sobbing on the couch, nuzzled into Viktor’s neck, you still feel a pang of guilt each time you replay the events of last weekend in your head. It’s hard to pinpoint where it comes from, but it’s ever-present.

Now that it’s Friday, finally, you write it down on a piece of paper filled with bullet points for later this evening. Absolutely convinced you won’t use it, you still write every single invasive thought down—just in case you gather the courage to tell him.

Before leaving, you make a few critical last-minute decisions—hair up or down, skirt or trousers, or a dress? Makeup or none? Take extra underwear, or not tempt fate to make a joke out of you?

You end up in a dress, with no makeup, your hair gathered into a loose updo, and a wishful-thinking extra pair of knickers stuffed into your purse.

You walk to make yourself less giddy. You stop to buy some food for later, glancing nervously at your watch, only to see that you are, in fact, too early. Sitting on a bench to read is futile—you just end up staring at your phone, willing the time to pass.

And when you finally, finally buzz his door, it’s like last time—you are immediately let in, without him checking the intercom. But this time, you almost run to the elevator, jabbing the button over and over for the doors to close and carry you upward. When you step out, Viktor is already waiting by the entrance to his flat, greeting you with a quiet, sweet, “Hi,” as soon as he sees you.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out at first, not even the breathless hi yourself you’ve prepared. The week of waiting, of uncertainty, of second-guessing every moment—was it real? Was he real? Or was this just a fragile illusion, something too good to hold? The part of you that has spent too long in doubt tugs at your resolve, asking if you’re just imagining the warmth in his voice, the way he’s looking at you like he wants you here.

But then his fingers brush against yours as he plucks the bag from your hand, and the heat of his touch travels up your arm, quieting the noise in your head. The doubts don’t stand a chance once his hands slide up your thighs, wrapping around your waist, anchoring you to him. Your back thuds lightly against the door as he kisses you. You don’t even get a proper look at him before his mouth is on yours, his hand pulling your updo apart, fingers tangling into your hair.

Your palms clutch at his shirt and slide up his neck, pulling him closer. He muffles a quiet ah against your lips when you tug his hair and nip at his lower lip. His hips press into you, your chests flush together, and he breathes in deeply, catching up with your scent—the one he’s been missing for five days.

When he finally pulls away, he says again, “I said hi.”

“Hi yourself,” you reply, smiling sheepishly against him. You brush your thumbs over his beauty marks, and his eyes flutter closed. Your foreheads touch. Viktor looks relieved.

“I missed you,” he says, feeling stupid for admitting it—five days is nothing compared to the six months you spent apart, yet it still felt like agony. “You smell nice,” he adds, nosing at your neck, his lips curling up at the sensation of goosebumps rising under his touch.

“Thank you,” you whisper, dumbfounded by this unfiltered flood of affection. Viktor chuckles, realizing he’s overwhelming you. He moves away, and you would protest—if not for the fact that he’s still holding your hand. You squeeze it tightly, letting him lead you into the kitchen, where you watch him make tea.

“So,” Viktor starts, setting a cup in front of you before taking the seat opposite. “How was your week?”

“I—” Horrible. A blur. A very long blur. Long. Painful. “Painfully long,” you finally huff out with a chuckle, feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your neck. You lower your gaze to your fidgeting fingers, and soon, in the periphery of your vision, Viktor’s hands creep in, cradling yours across the table.

“And why would that be?” he asks quietly. You don’t have to look up to know his eyes will be hooded and his mouth quirked into a sweet smile.

With a pained sigh, you pull your hands back, stand up, and in a heartbeat, you’re kneeling between his legs, resting your head on his lap, arms wrapping around his hips.

“And whatever is that for?” Viktor giggles, startled by your clinginess, unaware of the quiet, pathetic truth that you feel safest like this—between his legs, wrapped in his warmth. You breathe in the scent of his clothes and whisper, “You smell nice too. I missed you too.”

He places a hand on your head, fingers threading gently through your hair, and you inch your hands toward his belt. Slowly, his palm comes to rest over yours, halting your movement. When you lift your gaze to meet his, Viktor almost melts into a puddle at the sight of you—kneeling at his feet, eyes pleading—but he has to ask, “What is this about?”

“I just really missed you,” you say quietly, fingers twitching at his fly. “May I?”

He studies you for a moment, swipes his thumb over your lips and says a breathless, “Yes,” reinforced with a nod. And then his eyes glue to your fingers undoing his belt and tugging at his pants to slide them down all the way to his ankles, to finally discard them. And then—

Viktor’s breath hitches, but you cannot help yourself. You press your face to his boxers, breathing in his scent and it’s a gesture so full of adoration, he whimpers despite himself. You unroll his waistband and kiss him softly with your mouth open, leaving a slick trail all the way up from his base to the tip. He is still soft, his skin is warm and silky, and he shudders at each and every one of your pecks.

You slide his underwear down and make your way up, starting by kissing his knee, up his inner thigh, to finally take his balls into your mouth and hum at the contact. Viktor’s fingers curl in your hair, his legs straighten out in front of him, head falls back, and he gives out a deep, long moan.

It’s almost crushing to feel so worshipped. You’re being so gentle with him—it reminds him of your first time together. Back when things were easy, full of possibilities. Now, things are a little harder, but the possibilities keep slipping back in, one by one, with each passing minute.

He sags in the chair, eyes glazed, and cheeks reddened when he looks down to you—rubbing your face against his cock with reverence that makes him want to pull you up and kiss you until you can’t breathe. And you hum, and kiss and lick off his pre-cum for the longest time before you give him as much as an actual proper lick to his underside, tracing the prominent vein with the tip of your tongue. And Viktor twitches and writhes under your touch, his cock resting heavily across your face.

When you finally take him into your mouth he shudders, his legs jolt and he scolds himself for acting like he’s being touched for the first time. But after a second, he decides he feels safe enough—to let you touch him like this, to give you this power over him. And as if you catch that split-second hesitation in the way he tastes, you release him with a quiet pop and ask gently, “Is this alright?”

“More than alright,” Viktor slurs, his thumb sweeping over your lip again. The string of drool connecting his cock to your mouth now clings to his hand. He leaves it. “Please, don’t stop,” he adds, a blush creeping beneath his shirt.

With a smile, and God help him, another hum, you take him back in, placing your hand on whatever you can’t fit into your mouth. Viktor sighs, the sensation of being enveloped in warmth flooding over him, when you do something that nearly makes him come on the spot—your hand flattens at the base of his cock and you push him past your throat, releasing a fresh wave of spit to drip down his length, while you gag, and the sound makes him go insane. He looks down, and oh, there it is—the first tear you shed today as you disconnect from him to catch a breath and stroke him with a slow movement of your wrist.

It’s a small tear that dries out somewhere in the middle of its journey between the corner of your eye and your chin, but it’s there nevertheless and Viktor commits it to memory. So when you kiss his tip again and open your mouth for him, he cradles your face and gives you one, languid roll of his hips. He stops to ask, “Can I?”

Your eyes flutter open, then closed, then open again. You nod, mumbling a sound as close to yes as you can manage with your mouth full, and you hope Viktor won’t retreat because you don’t want to lose the feeling of his hands cradling you and the feeling of his cock pulsing between your lips.

And, oh God, he takes it as it is. And he gives it back to you, with another thrust, careful and slow, his mouth falls open and eyes are fixed on yours. You see the vein in his neck pulsing, and you take your quick breaths through your nose each time he retreats to push back again. His cock keeps hitting the back of your throat, gently, just a touch, just enough to make your thighs clench and your knuckles go white on his thighs.

And you watch him becoming progressively prettier and prettier as sweat pearls up on his forehead and his mouth loses restraint with all the sounds he is giving you. “My good girl,” he keeps whispering. “Fuck, you are so good,” falls out next. “I love you so much, I missed this so much,” is your favourite one and makes your heart jump all the way up to meet the head of his cock in your throat.

He pants out your name, his grip tightening and the last thing that tips him over is when he sweeps your hair away from your neck to gather it in his fist. And he sees them, his own fingertips already yellowing on your skin, a faint memoir of bruises that were once there, from when he had forced you to look him in the eye while you admitted to still loving him.

“Oh, fuck,” is all Viktor can say as he spasms between your lips and spills himself inside and over, even though he wants to tell you how amazing it feels. How amazing you are, how amazing it is to fuck your mouth. How amazing it is that you shed another tear for him and that you swallowed almost all of his cum, and to convey it, he pulls you up just as he wanted earlier.

And you sit across his lap where he is still warm from your touch. And his mouth is on yours, and oh, it’s almost like the first time. The taste of him still lingers heavily on your tongue and he sucks on it with love and care and gratitude, humming and licking into you, caressing your hair and your shoulders. He kisses you like you are worthy of redemption. Finally his head falls into the crook of your neck, skin clings to skin, as he mutters, “Thank you.”

"You taste just as I remember," you say absently, the words bouncing off the shell of Viktor’s ear. Just when he thinks he cannot possibly come undone any further, you take him apart.

"What have I done to deserve this?" Viktor asks weakly, and you huff a quiet laugh at how dramatic he’s being over a blowjob. You take his face in your hands, guiding his gaze to meet yours.

"There are things I have no idea how to tell you. But you deserve this every day," you whisper, resting your forehead against his.

Viktor sits there, dumbfounded, with you perched over his naked lap, foreheads touching, his pants and underwear crumpled in the middle of the kitchen. And as if your thoughts have seeped from your mind into his, understanding dawns.

"Is this your way of repenting?" he asks, trying to catch your gaze.

You say nothing, only scrunch your nose.

"Hey, look at me, please," Viktor says firmly, his fingers tilting your chin up. The warmth of his touch is steady, grounding, but not forceful. His eyes search yours, full of something unknown. "What are you trying to atone for?"

"For… everything," you sigh, pressing yourself down until you sag against him, your body moulding into his like you could dissolve there. The warmth of his skin on yours should be comforting, but it only makes the ache deeper, and you wince at your inability to express yourself.

"And yet, there is nothing," Viktor replies without hesitation. His fingers remain at your chin, keeping your gaze locked to his, as if he won’t allow you to look away, won’t allow you to slip into this spiral.

"Viktor—"

"I do mean it," he interrupts, his voice unwavering. "I do not want any of this. We start anew, sins not forgotten but cleansed. We learn, and we start over. Nothing to repent for."

"But—"

His other hand tightens around your waist, a small squeeze that grounds. "What do you feel?" he asks, softer now, but still insistent. "You have to tell me."

You hesitate. The words feel thick in your throat, soaked in self-doubt. "I—" You inhale sharply, then admit, "I feel shame. Or guilt. Or both, all the same."

"And whatever for?" Viktor presses, patient, his thumb brushing idly over your skin, a subconscious motion of reassurance.

"For how this went before, Viktor," you say, voice strained. "I see it now, and I just can’t—"

His brows pull together in concern, but he doesn’t let you trail off into silence. "What do you need to get over this?" Ever the problem-solver.

You huff out a mirthless chuckle, the sound brittle. "I don’t know. Punishment?" you say, half-joking, half-serious, but the weight in your chest doesn’t lighten. A punishment seems fitting. The insistent heat of tears pricks at your eyes, and you try to blink them away.

"I don’t think you deserve that," Viktor says immediately, voice firm, as if the thought alone is ridiculous. His hand moves to swipe the tear from beneath your eye while he does his best to remain unaffected.

"Hey—" He moves in by an inch, your stuttering breath fanning over his face. "I really don’t," he murmurs, quieter now, more to himself than to you. His grip tightens, like he needs to keep you close to not break. "We’ve changed, and it’s alright. Oh, God," he exhales, as his thumb swipes the tear from your cheek and his expression shifts from worry to adoration in an instant.

Your brows furrow, confused. "What?"

A flicker of hesitation crosses his face. He swallows. "I have my share of shame in me as well, love."

Your stomach twists at the admission. "What? Why?"

He exhales sharply, pressing his forehead to yours. His voice drops lower, as if he is giving away his best-guarded secret. "I… seem to enjoy it when you cry," he admits. "Not in the sense of enjoying your suffering," he clarifies quickly, "but somehow, being cried for, or in front of, makes me feel… loved."

"Oh, Viktor," you whisper and pull away, your hands moving instinctively to cup his face. His skin is warm beneath your touch, the sharp angles of his cheekbones softening under your fingers. "I am doing a terrible job with love confessions if you have to seek confirmation like this," you mumble, a self-deprecating huff of a laugh dancing under your nose.

Viktor shakes his head, pressing his forehead against yours again, unwilling to let you part. "I disagree. I felt just as loved a minute ago." Then he exhales, long and slow. "I think… it’s just a byproduct of everything," he says carefully. "A change." He pauses, then asks, voice softer, "Does it repulse you?"

"Of course not," you answer instantly, faster than a blink. Your thumbs brush over his cheekbones, gentle, reverent. "You could never repulse me."

His eyes flutter shut for a moment, like he’s soaking in your words, like they’re something sacred. When he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that crushes you completely. "The feeling is mutual," he murmurs.

He studies you for a moment longer before speaking again. "So tell me—what do you need to overcome your shame?"

And you hesitate again. It still lingers. Creeps up to coil somewhere around your throat and you can’t possibly bring yourself to say this, can you? The most obvious stupid cliché. Not because of the act itself, but because of the nature of it. Because of the reason for it. You crave to shed it, to start anew, to get all dressed up in your fresh new skin, old one feeling to tight around your bones. But this is Viktor. And of all people, he’s the one you would ask.

So you lean in to whisper your undisclosed desire straight into his ear. "Spank me."

Viktor stills, his mouth falls open, and he covers it with his hand. Not in shock—just to think. He doesn’t let the moment linger, as his brain works fast. He cups your cheeks and sweeps his thumbs under your eyes. Takes a deep breath.

"This is your wish?"

You nod, lowering your gaze and fixing it on the space between you, but Viktor tsks at you. "I will need you to use your words for this and all the way through. Is this what you want, for sure?"

"Yes," you answer, quietly, but audibly enough for Viktor to accept.

"Alright," he says firmly, then smiles and places a kiss on the corner of your mouth, sweet and lingering. "Will you pass me my pants?"

You huff out a laugh but scramble up from his lap, helping him get roughly dressed—underwear left in the kitchen—when he leads you back to the bedroom. And it’s all so very sweet. He leans on you, just like last time. Kisses your cheek and neck all the way through. You manage not to look at the empty spaces this time.

He leads you to the bed, where he sits down, and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Holding your hand, he guides you to sit beside him. Without question, you do, heart all the way up in your throat.

"Alright, let’s go over this, yes?" Viktor states, as if this is a project. Safety rules, roadmap, scientific approach. He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze and smiles softly. "I will check how you are doing constantly. If you tell me to stop, I stop immediately. If, for whatever reason, you don’t feel like you can tell me, you tap my thigh three times. If you don’t like it, we never do this again. If you do, we will explore. What do you think?"

"You don’t think it’s weird?" Do you think I’m weird is truly what gnaws at you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask it. You just look at him, waiting, excited and scared.

"Of course not. Peculiar, at best," Viktor smiles again and places a flurry of kisses on your face. "Do you wish to continue?"

"Yes," you answer with more confidence now.

"Then lay across my lap, please," he says, leaning back, hands still on you—grounding and reassuring.

Air gets momentarily knocked out of your lungs when your belly presses across Viktor’s thighs. He runs a hand down your spine, finding himself strangely excited about this. The trust he asked you for last week now lay splayed across his knees—he couldn’t help but think. All he has to do is indulge you.

His hand slides down, cradling your ass. He lifts the skirt of your dress, draping it over your lower back, and runs his fingers under the hem of your underwear. Gently, soothing you with soft sounds as he does, he pulls your knickers down to your knees. Your face burns, heat prickling across your skin in goosebumps with every touch—nails grazing over the inside of your knee, up your thighs, stopping at your core. He palms your naked skin and hums once he realises you are wet.

“Good,” he murmurs, playing between your legs for a while. Your mouth parts and eyes close, while you give him quiet gasps. He spreads the wetness onto your ass cheeks and cradles your bum one last time before starting. And then, without warning, the first slap lands—firm, of medium strength—but still, you yelp in surprise.

The sensation is alien—it both hurts and doesn’t. With the mild pain comes something else, something fleeting, but you can’t quite grasp what it is. Warmth spreads across your skin, and you dig your fingers into Viktor’s thigh.

Viktor, however, receives something entirely different. Nothing flees him—something grows. Both between his legs and in his chest. He has to take a second before he asks, “How was that?”

“Good,” you reply immediately.

So he continues. Another slap echoes through the room, and Viktor watches as the imprint of his hand whitens against your skin before dissolving into pink a second later. How pretty it looks. He checks in with you again. And again, you encourage him.

Slowly, slap after slap, each one interrupted by Viktor’s questions, you feel lighter, warmer. A strange feeling of relief washes over you. At some point, your skin begins to sting, and even that is welcome. Your mouth loses restraint, and you moan each time Viktor’s palm connects with your ass. Your back arches, ribs pressing into his legs, and you feel a drop of slick rolling down your inner thigh.

So debauched. So pretty, Viktor thinks.

He can’t help himself and runs his fingers down between your legs. Gasps at the wetness pooling there. “More?” He asks, voice breathy, eyes completely transfixed on your reddened skin and he almost drools at the sight. All his doing. His hand did this. This, and the drenched state of your cunt, it’s all him.

“More,” you say weakly. The burn feels good. You feel the doubt seeping out with the warmth radiating from your skin. With each touch, something inside you feels lighter. Bigger. Like there is more of you and less of whatever had been gnawing at you.

Viktor gives you three more slaps, and when your thighs quiver with the last one, his hand comes to rest at the base of your spine. “How is that?” he asks, admiration seeping into his voice.

“I think it’s enough,” you reply in a small voice. His hand returns to your bum, a gentle caress spreading from the tops of your thighs to your hips. Slowly, you rise from his lap, only to straddle him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” you breathe into his skin. Viktor pulls you close, inhaling deeply through his nose.

“Thank you,” he murmurs in return. “Please, lie down on your stomach. I’ll be right back.”

You blink in quiet question but obey. Crawling onto the bed, you curl up on your side, fingers ghosting over the heat still lingering beneath your dress. When Viktor returns, the soft tap of his cane against the floor announces him, and you wonder how he got all the way to the kitchen without it.

“I said on your stomach,” he says gently, placing a hand at the small of your back. You roll over, propping your head on your crossed arms.

“Good girl,” he coos before exposing your reddened ass. The mattress dips on each side of your knees and once again you feel Viktor’s hands on you. Soft, gentle. Callouses gliding over your tired skin with care and love. He presses his face against your cheeks, holding them firmly, hums in appreciation, making your toes curl and your back arch, belly pressing into the bed. Then his mouth joins, as he licks you with a flat tongue. Lips grazing over you, the trail of open mouth kisses spreading all the way from the crease of your ass to the small of your back. You press yourself into him and bury your nose in the sheets, trying to muffle your whimpers.

And then comes the coolness pressing against you, making you wince at the first touch. A cold compress.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Viktor whispers. His free hand comes to thread gently through your hair. You feel safe. Whole. That sense of belonging blooms within you again—stronger this time—and you are so, so glad it’s with Viktor. You sigh and close your eyes.

He lies beside you, his hand running up and down your spine. When you blink, your eyes meet. “How are you feeling?” he asks, and he looks so in love your heart is about to burst.

“Very good,” you say quietly, offering him an honest smile. You turn onto your side to face him, the compress slipping off. “Better. Empty and whole at the same time,” you murmur against his mouth, kissing him with reverence. “You?”

Viktor thinks for a second before answering. "Knowing you trust me enough to let go like this makes me feel irreplaceable," he says finally, and you are left speechless. Because he is. And it feels great that he knows.

“It’s all very new, isn’t it?” you ask finally, and Viktor gazes at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“No,” he murmurs, pulling you closer, your name falling softly from his mouth. “Nothing’s new. It’s still love.”

You nuzzle against his neck and sigh, your eyelashes tickling his skin. The last question gnawing at you slips past your lips before you can catch it.

“Do you hate me less now?”

Viktor scoffs, outright appalled. He pulls you back by the neck, forcing you to look at him, his eyes full of intent as he replies simply, “No.”

Your heart beats only once before stopping entirely. Then Viktor’s expression softens, and he speaks again.

“I never hated you. If anything, I only love you more.”

And your heart resumes beating—hard and erratic. You wrap yourself around him, letting out a shuddering breath. “God, how can this be so good now when we’ve fucked up so badly?”

Viktor picks up what you’ve put down. “Change is inevitable. Sometimes abrupt. Maybe this is where we were supposed to be to get here, miláčku.”

Oh, God. There it is again—dragged up from the pit you were hoping to forget. The one thing that once felt most dear, a treasure Viktor gave freely, only to let it slip into someone else’s hands. Now it’s tarnished, dulled with grime. It doesn’t sound sweet anymore. It tastes bitter, feels wrong. Feels like it doesn’t belong to you.

Your heart drops again. Your voice shrinks to almost nothing as you push him away and plead weakly, “Please, don’t call me that again.” Tears are already pricking at your eyes, and you wonder when you became so quick to cry.

“Wha—Why?” Viktor chuckles, trying to wrap his arms back around you, but you keep your distance, splaying your palms flat against his chest in quiet defiance. And then he sees it.

“Oh, darling. It never happened, I promise you. The note, I—”

“What do you mean?” you ask, as if you don’t already know. Your brows knit together, a tear clinging to your lashes. “It was on the note,” you try again, your voice frail with disbelief. Your lips press into a tight line, and Viktor looks so remorseful that you fear what’s coming next.

“It was on the note,” he says carefully, “because I was fully lying to you.”

It’s so quiet you almost don’t hear him. Your eyes flick between his eyes and his lips, your mouth parting—but nothing comes out. A couple of imaginary pins drop on the floor, the sound echoes in your head.

And then a sob slips through as you blink rapidly, trying to hold back the tears. “No. Viktor, I thought—”

“I’m so sorry.” He tries to cradle you, but you resist. “I knew it was horribly wrong as soon as I saw you that day. I regretted it in an instant, and oh,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest. He holds you tight through this last, stupid display of jealousy, doing his best to reassure you.

“I would never. I would never call anyone else that. You are the only one, I promise. It’s all yours. Please forgive me. Miláčku, please forgive me,” he pleads, pressing his face into your hair, into the crook of your neck.

You don’t respond—not with words, not yet. Your breath is shaky against his collarbone, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt like you need something solid to hold onto. His heart hammers against your ear. You know he’s afraid.

Viktor shifts, pressing a kiss to your temple, lingering like he’s willing you to believe him through touch alone. His hand cradles the back of your head, his thumb brushing small, rhythmic circles at your nape.

“Please,” he whispers again, softer now, like he’s running out of words, running out of ways to reach you. “I promise it’s yours. Forever.”

“How do you know it’s forever?” you ask, voice hollowed out. That would be a gift too good to be true. Yet. You dare to have your hopes up.

Viktor winces. Your body grows pliant against him. He hooks his leg over your hip bone and nestles you close, his arm wrapping under your waist, his palm resting between your shoulder blades. His other hand cradles your cheek, his face inching closer. Your noses press together, and when Viktor speaks his quiet truth, your lips brush.

“Because loving you isn’t a feeling that fleets,” he murmurs, pouring the words into you. “It’s a condition. And I will carry it with me always, no matter what happens between us.”

Your breath hitches, and you shudder. You squeeze your eyes shut, searching for something—anything—to say. But instead, you press your salty lips to his, not in a kiss, just a press. Just to steal a breath from him.

“Come back to me,” he coaxes, his knuckles paling against your skin. “Miláčku, come back to me.”

And Viktor doesn’t really believe in any higher form of consciousness controlling the universe. The only thing he believes in is the void, that we scream into like an echo chamber, questions bouncing back to anyone who’s asking. That we only get one life and have to make the very best of it. He doesn’t believe in God, that he has called upon too many times already in the spirit of figurative speech. But if there was one thing he would pray for, it would be this.

To tether himself to you, bind himself to something real, something beyond the desperate loneliness he’s learned to live with before he’s met you. He’s been waiting and waiting for this love to fleet, and it never fucking did, no matter how hard he’s been trying to squeeze it out of himself. So, instead of praying, he offers himself to you, tries to prove in the only way he knows how that he is yours, that he will always be yours—with his needy hands that chased away your shame, with his loving eyes so honest they pierce right through you, with his hot mouth that needs, needs, needs to suck on you so his lungs could expand, and his heart could beat.

And as if gears slowly begin grinding against each other in your head, you give it all back. You kiss him—deep and messy, snot mingling with drool. Viktor sighs in relief, the taste of your tears on his tongue sealing something unspoken between you. He murmurs sweet things between breaths, hands tangling in your hair, legs hooking you closer. And he needs, needs, needs to show you how much he wants you to come back. How nothing else could ever compare. How the thought of anything else is harrowing and empty.

“So we start over,” you slice through his thoughts, stating more to yourself than to him, as if the matter has nestled in your head securely only just now.

Viktor nods brushing his nose against yours and whispers a quiet, “Yes.”

“Yes,” he says again as his shaky fingers begin to unbutton your dress. “Yes,” he breathes when his thumbs brush under your breasts and palms twitch to cup them. “Yes,” comes another murmur when his tongue meets your skin, tits squeezed together so he can lick between them, and then a moan escapes him as you slide your hands to the nape of his neck and tug at the short hair there.

Your back arches, excited and willing when the sensation of his tongue on you mingles with the sounds he makes echoing in your mind, and you breathe out a needy plea, “Do it again.”

Viktor cocks a brow, hums into your skin as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, and asks a playful muffled, “Which one?"

“Oh, God, both,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut and buck your hips against thin air, Viktor’s knee too far for you to reach. Your fingers pull at the base of his skull, and Viktor chuckles, a flush creeping up his body underneath the layers of clothing when he sinks his mouth into your breast and obeys—letting out a quiet, wrecked, “Oh, fuck,” somewhere around your heart.

His thigh finally, finally, comes to your salvation, sneaking between your legs and pressing on your core with a quiet obscene squelch. The thought of a wet stain he will get to see there makes his cock twitch painfully against the half-assed job you did of buttoning up his trousers earlier on. You breath grows short as you rub yourself on him and when a stuttered whimper escapes your mouth, Viktor huffs, “Please, do it again,” through a sharp exhale.

You tug at his hair, forcing him to look at you. "Give me a reason," you whisper in a strangled breath.

Clearly, you have no idea what you’re asking for. The cry that escapes you when his knee retreats is, to say the least, embarrassing. The sound transforms into a quiet gasp, when his hands leave your chest, one finger slides through your slit and Viktor hums, so, so pleased with you, “Baby, look how wet you are.”

“So wet for me, my girl,” he coos, and he sounds almost too grateful as his lips come back to kiss you, and a gush of cold air fans over your nipples. He palms your sickly heat, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit and you blink rapidly as your eyes roll back in your skull. Your hands fumble blindly to unbutton his shirt in a need press yourself flush against him.

And you do a very poor job, jolting and pulling at his buttons whenever Viktor’s hand parts you and his fingers tease your entrance, so his other hand comes to help you, undoing what you can’t with an ease that has you huffing. It’s annoying that he can do two things at once, while you clearly cannot. Your sulking doesn’t last very long, because as soon as his naked chest is free to be roamed, you leech yourself to his collarbone and suck a red glaring love mark into it.

Yours. All yours.

And Viktor slips, figuratively and literally, as his head instinctively falls back to grant you full access to his neck and his two fingers push inside you, where you are so, so hot it almost burns him. As if the mark on his neck wasn’t red enough, you bite on it, trying to muffle a groan. Viktor has nothing to muffle his groan on, so you can feel it crawling up his throat and vibrating under your lips.

When his fingers push in further, the only gesture you can muster is to hook your hands over the waistband of his trousers, mouth choking on his neck. You pull his pants down and he hisses as the material hooks over his cock before it springs back to slap heavily against his lower abdomen. You try to distract yourself by sliding your palms flat up and down the slope of his sharp hips, but it’s futile once Viktor buries his fingers knuckle deep and curls them brushing the sensitive spot within you. He twitches as you moan. Precum leaks out of his slit. No thoughts cross your head, only impressions. Only want and need.

You can’t decide which one it is—want or need—when your fingers wrap around his length and rub whatever weeps at the tip all over the head. He’s silky and heavy in your hand as you trace your favourite vein with the tip of your finger.

“Oh, God,” Viktor whimpers to the imaginary being again, pumping you with a stuttering rhythm of his wrist. Feeling every crevice of your cunt, he pulls you in for a kiss and you no longer know where he ends, and you begin. Attached by the mouth, his hand deep inside you, your needy wanting hands on him, just drawing gasps and moans from each other.

He has to retreat to pull his pants further down and has an audacity to chuckle when you whine in protest. His hand leaves you drawing a wet sound and your thighs fall back together with a sticky smack. “So impatient,” he hums, while doing a shitty job of undressing himself, kicking off one leg of his pants, while the other still entangles around his calf. He hooks his freed leg over your hip, takes his cock from you and aligns it at your entrance. You are completely wrapped around each other—leg pressing on leg, arms hooked around necks, fingers adding to already damp hair.

“Do you want me?” he asks, pressing his cock against your clit, hard. You tie up into thousands of knots, trying to suck him in by the force of your sheer will when you see the question is honest. He really wants to know. Eyes pensive, hooded, mouth parted. So you kiss this mouth, bite his lips until he hisses and breathe into him, “I want you, fuck, I want you.”

A silent moan rips through him, as he enters you, inch after painful inch until you can feel every ridge, every vein, every pulse of his cock against your walls. At this point you are just clashing mouths and teeth in something that once was a kiss. He fills more of you than was empty as you lose control of the clenching and unclenching of your own muscles. A quiet ah falling from him dies in the sound of a slap as your hips slot together.

He stills for a moment, buried deep, and you swear you can feel his pulse inside you, thrumming in time with your own. Chest to chest, forehead to forehead, he exhales heavily through his nose, his grip on you tightening. And then he moves.

Your mouth falls open so wide your jaw aches, breaths intermingle, brows knit together. Viktor's hands anchor around your ass as he thrusts into you, slow and deep, each movement pounding the shape of his cock into your core. You arch against him, offering yourself, giving him everything you have. Your fingers twist in his hair, and the moment you tug, he groans—a low, breathy sound that coils something filthy at the base of your spine as your skin slaps against his.

And Viktor feels himself melting against your lips, inside you, as your walls squeeze tighter and tighter around him. He loses control of his hands—they just roam, fisting at your dress, kneading the soft flesh of your thighs as he sinks deeper, hitting a spot that has you gasping hiccupped breaths straight into his mouth. He pants, struggling not to be the one who falls first, trying not to look, not to think about your clumped eyelashes, the tears that he is fucking out of you. He tries not to think about how every slap of his hips against yours must echo across your poor ass, how pleasure and pain must be bleeding together inside you.

But it just feels so fucking good for you. Every roll of his hips is a reminder of how his fingers sank into your skin not long ago, heat pouring out of you in waves. You don’t move anymore—it’s only Viktor’s sloppy, determined thrusts guiding you toward the edge. You cross your eyes to focus on his parted lips, the beauty marks dusting his cheek and lip, and when his breath fans over your face, you let your lashes flutter closed, surrendering to it. Letting it build, slow and aching, every deep stroke tightening the coil inside you until you’re cramping around him.

“Fuck,” Viktor pants as you curl into him, whining his name into the crook of his neck, fighting the urge to bite down on his tendon. Your thighs squeeze tight around him, and your cunt grips him like a vice, milking him as you finally break apart. You spasm and clench around him, neck wrenched and jaw tight as you try to catch a breath through your silent shout and it’s almost impossible for Viktor to move in the tightness you’ve created. His sweat drips onto your cheeks, and, at last, he can stop holding back.

He curls his arms around you and rolls you over, pressing you down with his weight. Adding gravity to every snap of his hips, his stomach cramps more and more with each desperate thrust as he fucks you through the aftershocks, chasing his own undoing. His mouth hangs open against yours when he holds you tight enough for his fingertips to whiten, bruises already threatening to bloom where he grips. “I’m so close,” he whispers on a breath, and you thought it impossible, but you clench even tighter at the sound of his strained voice. And when he cums, it’s with a wrenched-out grunt, his head buried in your neck, his body trembling against you.

A few stuttering jolts of his hips, spilling his seed deep inside you, and the sensation of being filled, of being utterly his, has you moaning one last time, spent and breathless. Eyes unseeing, mouth touching mouth when he falls on top of you and just stays.

And then, nothing, for a moment, only your damp stomachs rising and falling against each other.

Until Viktor is the one to move first. He pulls out, his cum spilling from you onto the sheets with a wet spurt, and rolls onto his back, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. A shuddery breath escapes him as he presses a hand to his chest.

“Viktor?” you say softly, gliding an open palm over his stomach.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what—” he croaks, then pulls you in, guiding your head to rest against his chest. His heart pounds beneath your ear, his breath uneven, and when you lift your chin to look at him, you catch the glistening trail of a tear slipping down his cheek, barely visible.

And Viktor has no idea what came over him. He has no idea whether this is a stupid way of paying back his debt to you or is it just a surge of affection that he cannot hold in, but it feels strangely freeing to pour all this fear into a wet breath. Or maybe his fucked out brain just can’t keep up with the bliss, he doesn’t know.

Gently, you tug his arm away from his face, nuzzling into him as you whisper, “It’s okay. You’re okay.” You press a soft kiss to his lips, and he exhales shakily, like he’s been holding something in for far too long. And to come undone like this is completely unlike for Viktor. You are fairly sure you’ve never seen him cry before, though you’ve heard the legends. And now they all come true, before your very eyes and even though you feel nothing close to arousal watching him spill his emotions over, the feeling you do have in your chest is about to make it burst, nevertheless.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, kissing you back through an embarrassed chuckle. “I guess something is new after all.”

“Don’t apologize, please,” you whisper, nuzzling your nose into the hollow of his cheek. “I love this.”

Viktor offers a smile and a squeeze to your neck. Wordlessly, you fall into each other, arms tightening, bodies entwining. The roam of your hands slowly dying to settle on each other’s hollows. The scent of sweat and warmth heavy between you, intermingling, blending—just as you do.

And even though all of this looks hurried and disorganised—your dress half undone, his pants tangled around one leg, brace slid down from his knee, shirt twisted around him, cold compress melting away, dampening his sheets—it feels right. And as you rest against him, your heart slowing in tandem with his, you think of how this is both familiar and new. How you’ve shed the bad and kept the good. How it’s all very fucking new and exciting and frightening, but it’s good, because it’s with Viktor.

At some point, the sun has set as you both drift into sleep. Heavy breaths, calm, bodies still half-clothed. Your dress has rolled all the way up, exposing your lower half, and Viktor, with sleep-ridden hands, pulls it down before throwing a blanket over you both. No dreams interrupt you, only the damp cloister of your shared aftermath.

He’s closed his eyes a second ago, and when he opens them again, the night has turned into a blue morning. No sun yet, but the dark already pales. Carefully, he shuffles from between your legs, pressing the soles of his feet to the wooden floor, blindly reaching for his cane. Then, takes a long breath. His knee is aching—a faint, but present feeling. Slightly annoying. Managable.

He discards his pants to the floor, the outline of the fly buttons pressed into the skin of his calf after clinging to it the whole night. He glances over his shoulder—you, fast asleep, hair clumped into a tangled mess spilling over his pillow. Mouth open, soft breaths coming in and out, the faintest sound nestling in his mind. His hand hovers over your cheek as he dusts away a stray eyelash. Moments pass as he just looks.

Quietly, he stands and expands himself into a slow stretch. Breathes out long and heavy. Then, half-naked, walks toward the kitchen. And there—his underwear on the floor. Two cups resting on the table. He puts his cup in the sink and reaches for yours—half-drunk tea, a once-wet, now dried-out ring left behind. He smiles.

Nothing’s new, comes the thought.

He drinks your cold tea and puts the kettle on.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #nothings new

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sanguineterrain · 1 day ago

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the worst day of february | jason todd

Summary: Cold and defeated on the worst day of February, you stand on your apartment rooftop, contemplating giving up. Then the Red Hood drops in and makes you tea in your apartment.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings/tags: suicidal ideation, disordered eating and sleeping habits, depression, reader doesn't attempt suicide but thinks about it a lot. a sort of hopeful ending. jason being a really really good guy.

please take care of yourselves - don't read this if you think it'll upset you.

divider

One day in February—it doesn't matter which day; it might be someone else's day too, but it doesn't matter, and it doesn't matter which February either—you realize that you've forgotten how to be happy.

When you think of February, you don't think of much, except that on those big visual calendars of the months that they put up in kindergarten, February is always pink. Pink like an organ. Pink like guts. Pink like love.

But your February—all the Februarys you've had—is blue-gray. It's like someone's cast a moody shadow over your February. It's the director's choice, clearly, to light your February like you're at a wake. It's not your choice. It's never your choice.

Here is the problem. The problem is that you're too scared, but you want the attention of someone who's killed themselves. Shame digs its claws into you at such a perverse thought. But it's true. Even if it's one person who takes a moment to inspect your guts on the sidewalk, or your body in the bathtub, you want them to hold your rigor mortis and say, what a loss. Is there anything I can do?

And then you'd pop up from the bathwater and say, why yes, there is something you can do, would you mind changing the lighting? It's bringing me down.

You're on the roof of your apartment. You don't know why, because as stated, you're too scared. And it's nighttime, and you're a speck of dust, which is comforting at times and haunting at others. Dust on a roof. Easy to be carried off by the wind.

You don't want to die, exactly. You want to rest. No amount of sleep destroys the exhaustion. Instead of marrow in your bones, it's the desire for rest that only comes through death. Unfortunately, despite not wanting to die, death seems to be your only path.

His footsteps are quiet. You don't realize that you're not alone until he's there next to you, hunched over the ledge on his elbows.

You flinch.

"Sorry," Red Hood says, and there's no smoky breath that accompanies his words like they accompany everyone else's. You wonder where the air from his helmet's filter goes.

"It's fine," you say, even though your nervous system is still reeling. It's not fine, because you hate being scared, but it also doesn't matter, so it's fine in that way.

You have a great view from the city up here but appreciating the city is difficult when it's all blue-gray shadows. Your stomach hurts. You've never felt more unbearably yourself in your life.

"Everything okay?" Hood asks.

"Yeah," you say, not bothering to lie. Not bothering to tell the truth either.

"'S cold up here."

"I'm not gonna jump."

"Didn't say you would," Hood says mildly.

"That's why you're here. You think I'll jump, and it's your duty to make sure I don't. But I won't. Too scared. I just wallow instead."

"Wallowing ain't so good either."

"Yeah," you say, throat hurting like you've swallowed a splinter. "Probably not."

An audience would see your funeral-lit life and make the obvious prediction that something bad is about to happen. The director is telling a story, and he's giving hints. You, as the protagonist, are expecting bad things too. Perhaps this is where it starts.

"You live here?" Hood asks.

There should be a curl of fear that strikes you, because Red Hood—terrifying, gangster, born and bred Gotham Red Hood—shouldn't be landing on your rooftop and checking to make sure you aren't gonna spill your guts.

He doesn't seem so terrifying, though. He doesn't seem like a gangster either. And what's wrong with being born and bred Gotham? You like it. Hood is familiar even though you've never met him before. Something about his voice, his stance, the fact that he gives a shit enough to talk to you for a minute. It feels like maybe the universe doesn't want you to kill yourself right then.

"I live here," you say, taking too long to answer.

"Alright," he says. "Lead the way."

You look at him. He's turned around now, facing the roof access door.

"What?"

Hood points a thumb at the door. "Let's go to your place."

"Why?" Why, you ask, instead of the fuck?

"'M thirsty," he says.

Well, if he's here to assassinate you, it won't matter if you bring him to your apartment or not. And now that he's mentioned it, it is cold. Probably because you're up here without a coat. A coat hadn't seemed important when you were in your apartment choking on stale black air.

Maybe you should warn Hood about the stale black air. But you feel like he won't let you return to your apartment if you do.

Hood goes first, leading you back inside. He goes down the stairs slowly, letting you drag and set the pace. It's so stupid. You feel like crying. Why is he going down the stairs with you at your stupid slow pace?

You stop two floors down. This would be another hint to your audience, the fact that you're so close to the roof that you can just climb a couple flights.

You open your apartment. You'd left it unlocked.

"Do you often leave your place unlocked?" Hood asks.

You shrug. "I don't go out enough to get the chance."

Hood doesn't say anything else but he does do the deadbolt when you're inside, as well as the chain lock.

"Shoes off?" he asks. You nod. You both remove your shoes.

Then you stand like you're not in your own apartment. Hood herds you like a sheepdog to your tiny kitchen table. Then he starts opening cabinet doors.

"Got a kettle?" he asks.

You stare at the back of his helmet, your eyebrows knitting. "A kettle? How many Gothamites do you know own kettles?"

"It's the only dignified way to make tea," he says.

Maybe Hood isn't so born and bred Gotham. "Were you raised by British monarchs?"

"Kinda," he says. He evidently gives up on finding a kettle and instead puts water to boil on the stove, even though you have a microwave. Weirdo.

Suddenly, you realize you haven't thought about death for a whole five minutes.

"Got any decaffeinated tea?" Hood asks.

You have a barely opened box of Sleepytime. You point at the top shelf. He hums and retrieves the box, taking out three tea bags to drop into the boiling water.

Hood takes out two mugs. He's surprisingly apt at navigating an unfamiliar kitchen.

He gives you your mug and sits across from you at the table. He's huge at your table, but he gracefully crosses his legs despite the limited space.

"Didja eat?" he asks.

"I had some cereal a few hours ago," you say.

Hood nods. "Fine. But you gotta eat real dinner too."

You don't think it really matters what a corpse-in-training eats, but you nod anyway. Hood's tone invites no deliberation.

"What's your favorite food? Drink your tea."

You scrunch your face and take a hesitant sip. The hot liquid burns your tongue for a moment before you swallow.

"I like pizza," you say. "And burgers. And ramen. But lately, everything tastes like nothing."

You'd tried to find joy in food a few days ago because you couldn't find it anywhere else. You'd torn open a pack of Swedish Fish and shoved the box into your drawer after eating two pieces because it'd tasted like melted plastic to you.

Then you'd bought an expensive brand of chocolate bar, desperate to be happy, desperate to be flooded with dopamine. Nothing. You'd tossed the chocolate, feeling distinctly broken. What monster doesn't find joy in their favorite candy?

You only eat to cure the hunger pains, because you can't take anymore pain. You eat to survive. Not because you want to, but because dying by starvation takes too long.

"That's okay," Hood says. "'S good you're eating."

You scoff. "I don't need consolation."

Hood doesn't give you the satisfaction of an argument. He's going to make you feel alive in a gentler way, even though you don't deserve it. "Drink your tea."

You drink. His mug remains untouched. You feel like you're in a play. This isn't even real tea, it's just colored water. And Hood's stage direction is to not drink his colored water. It's just for show.

You look out the window, expecting to make eye contact with an audience member. You're waiting for the second act. You're waiting for the end.

"I don't want anymore," you say when your mug is half-finished. Trying to finish the tea feels like prolonging the inevitable. The audience wants to go home. They have lives to get back to. They can't live with you and the stage forever.

To your surprise, Hood nods. "Okay. C'mon."

He stands up from the table. You follow him to your bedroom. He pulls open your shirt drawer. You notice the two guns strapped to his hips, two strapped to his ankles, and one bigger gun on his back. You wait for the director's guidance on how you should feel. None comes, so you remain apathetic.

"Choose a shirt," he says. You pick a plain pink t-shirt. Hood closes that drawer and opens your pants drawer. "Choose."

You take a pair of worn pajama shorts because you overheat when you sleep, especially when you're depressed. You're sweaty from your lie-in till two that you took earlier today. Your face is greasy. You're sure your hair isn't nice either.

"Go change," Hood says, walking out of your room. "I'll be outside." He closes the door behind him.

You change, if only out of shock of the Red Hood giving you orders.

"Done," you say, probably too quiet for anyone to hear. But Hood comes in. He looks you over.

"Good." He points to the bed. "Lie down."

You do. Your sheets are gross. They haven't been changed in at least a few months. You're suddenly swollen with shame that anyone, even the Red Hood, is seeing you in this state. Your eyes fill with stinging tears. You should've died before it came to this.

"I'm sorry you had to stop to do this," you say.

Hood's silent for a moment. Then he walks to your side of the bed. He crouches down. His helmet eyes glow in the dark. You've never been less afraid.

This is a plot twist you did not foresee. A new character. A guardian angel. Red in your blue-gray.

"'S not always gonna feel like this," he says.

More tears, more splinters in your throat. "It's felt like this for so long."

"Yeah," he says gently. Gentler than you fucking deserve. "I know."

The writer has overridden the director's wants, and has introduced some new foreshadowing. Should your audience believe it? Or is this a fake-out?

You lie back and want to die a little less. One young woman in your audience chokes up. She believes that you believe you’ll live. She will stay here for as long as it takes for you to make it through act two.

"If you have to go, it's okay," you say.

Hood settles against the wall near your bed. He pulls one knee against his chest. It's almost like you have a friend.

"Nah," he says. "I don't have anywhere to be. I finished my patrol. I'll stay till you fall asleep."

He doesn't ask to stay, and that feels good, not having to make the choice, to face the shame of wanting another person to care about you.

You screw your eyes shut. "Thank you," you whisper.

"I'm gonna bring you a kettle," Hood says.

You laugh. It's small and brittle but it's real. "Okay." You'll have to make it through the night. Red Hood is bringing you a kettle.

You lay there for a long time, not sleeping. You keep your eyes closed. You focus on keeping your breathing even. Then you open your eyes to check.

Hood is still there, sitting against the wall. You wonder if he's fallen asleep too. His voice startles you.

"Still here," he says. "Said I wouldn't go till you sleep. Meant it. Don't worry."

Maybe tomorrow's sun won't be so blue or gray. You fall asleep.

#Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd x you #red Hood x reader #batman fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #Jason Todd x yn #Jason Todd x gn reader #Jason Todd imagine #angst #hurt comfort #sad imagine #red Hood x you

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avianyuh · 2 days ago

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Soulmates | Jeon Wonwoo

word count: 367

“I think you’re my soulmate.” He said, our fingers intertwined as we lay side by side on his bed. He had his circle framed glasses on and the light from the bedside lamp reflected off of his lenses. The blinds were drawn up, but all you could see was darkness outside.

Normally, soulmates are viewed as some cheesy concept. Something stupid you’d say when you’re a teenager. But why? Don’t we all want to meet someone that feels so perfect. Almost like that person was specifically made for you?

I think back to all of the times we’d find ourselves saying the same things. Or he’d recommend a book to me that I had already read.

The times I’d glance at him and know exactly what was on his mind.

The way we communicate by squeezing each other’s hands to let the other know if we want to stay out or go home.

All the times he’s gone for work. Weeks at a time where we don’t see each other. I know he'll come back but always find it hard to fall asleep during those times. Yet, in the midst of the chaos, he still always found the time to send a text to check in, or sneak away to call. He’ll ask if I’m okay and if I’ve been eating enough… And though I act annoyed, I secretly love that he cares.

In response to his confession, I turn my body onto my side so I'm fully looking at him now. Our hands are still glued together. "Yeah" I smile. "I think you're my soulmate too." Eyes locked on his as I plant my lips on his own. His kisses are always so familiar, yet delicate.

So there I am, in my boyfriend's bed with his lips on mine and I know there will never be another moment in time like this. Another time where I feel as wanted and as safe as I do right now.

But that’s what a soulmate is, your better half. The one person in the entire world who completes you. Who puts your mind at ease. The one you will always find your way back to time and time again.

{A/N: Happy Valentines babes. Sorry I haven't posted much but just as I anticipated, I've been busy with school. I wanted to write something romantic for V Day and i have no manz at the moment and was a little in my feels about that😓 But I love Wonwoo in his circle lenses so I found a way to mention those lmao. Also I started a Substack (literally signed up today) to write on so I have a place to post my non fanfic content/stories. I'll link that in my bio pretty soon if anyone would like to read anything over there (it's free) Just subscribing to be on the email list would really help me and since I have over 700 followers on here I thought it'd be worth a shot to mention it. But anyways, most likely by the end of the month, I'll have up DK as a boyfriend. If not the end of the month then early March. Okay, as always, I love you and mwahhhhh💋}

#wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonu #jeon wonu #seventeen #seventeen headcanons #seventeen as boyfriends #wonwoo as a boyfriend #svt #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #svt headcanons #seventeen blurbs

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faeryleehowle · 3 days ago

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I cannot find the ask but im pretty sure its from an anon @hedwig221b about a southern Derek and he has been HAUNTING ME I cant stop thinking about country/cowboy Derek Hale being so large in size but so calm and quiet and just watching Stiles. Maybe because he comes in to help with a new addition to the town/farm like a bakery or cafe or garden or something and he’s always so busy and moving around a lot and runs off of so much caffeine, but he has a LOT to do okay? So yes he is up at 5am and is pulled down by pure exhaustion at 12am and the bags under his eyes are growing but he does it!! He gets the bakery/garden open and opening day is a success and the team he was training for weeks is flawless and capable and he sleeps for a day straight the day after and wakes up to an invitation to dinner at Dereks cabin and he thinks he’s in trouble for sleeping and skipping a day because Derek isn’t necessarily his boss but he is the nephew of the boss so maybe he is the sanctioned enforcer? And he is a nervous wreck the entire walk there but when he gets there everything is…fine??? Derek was just worried that he was working himself too hard and also Stiles is sure for a second that Derek is…flirting with him?? But no Stiles is just wired from wrecking his body and maybe Derek is right, maybe he wouldn’t have to rest so hard if he didn’t work so hard. Derek jokingly but seriously presses that he’s going to keep an eye on Stiles and that when the sun goes down and everyone else stops working that Stiles will too, and Stiles agrees! Derek looks calm and happy and actually everyone on the farm does and Stiles could use some of that. Derek walks Stiles back to his cabin at the end of the night and again Stiles swears he’s flirting but theres just no way, Derek is all man. All STRAIGHT man. He chalks it up to being intimacy starved and confused when anyone shows him an inch of kindness but he’s not going to do that to Derek, so he rids himself of this silly thoughts and waves him goodnight and from that day on Stiles actually does end his days at sundown with the rest of the farm and eats dinner with everyone in the hall and makes friends and tries his best to shake Derek from his mind. But he has got to be the only cowboy to ever exist that is so comfortable with his masculinity, because he BAKES for STILES. Buys him a cowboy hat when he notices the sunburn on Stiles cheeks one morning, (which he hand delivers to him and Stiles cant even look him in the fucking EYE), the gifts, the touches, the dinner invitations. Stiles is L O S I N G I T.

One Saturday its Dereks turn to grocery shop for the game room and he drags Stiles along and something he says makes Stiles realize that Derek isn’t just this great straight man that doesn’t care that Stiles is gay, he’s this great straight man that doesn’t KNOW Stiles is gay (he does, babe. The closet is clear.) and Stiles PANICS at the grocery store and shuts down and shuts Derek out and Derek is like fucking hell this guy is hard to read, he doesn’t like flirting or gifts or quality time maybe I just need to down right ask him if he wants me to leave him alone because MIND YOU this entire time Derek has been doing his BEST work, his next moves were going to include shirtless horse riding lessons (dont ask)

But they make it home with Stiles avoiding eye contact like its his job (which is not unusual for him, Derek has to admit) but he keeps avoiding him for the next couple days and he’s about to think that maybe he read it wrong maybe Stiles isn’t interested when he overhears Stiles talking to Peter about finding a replacement for him and fuck FUCK Derek has made him uncomfortable. The last thing he wants is for Stiles to leave because of him, he goes to bake ‘im sorry’ cookies or something but before he leaves he hears Peter trying to tell Stiles that he’s sure Derek really likes him. Like reallllllly likes him. Like really really likes him, and before Derek can get in there to shove his fist in Peters mouth, Stiles starts laughing. A little too loudly. Like okay why is it so funny babe?? And before Derek can get his feelings hurt he starts going on about how its impossible how they are from different worlds how beautiful and kind and put together Derek is and how lovely and thoughtful and strong he is and how next to him Stiles feels like nothing but a mess and no one wants that. Derek can smell Stiles eyes start to water. Peter doesn’t respond, maybe because he can sense that Derek is near but he doesn’t accept Stiles quasi-resignation, that his request is denied and that he should talk to Derek. Even as just a friend. Stiles softly accepts, slowly making his way back to his cabin. He’s dejected and confused, he doesn’t notice that Derek is following him, not until he goes to close the door to his cabin behind him and it hits Derek trying to walk in too.

“Oh, sorry…” he mutters confused turning to look at the obstruction.

Derek.

“H-hey. Derek.”

And Derek just starts talking about how like he always wants to touch the beauty marks on Stiles face but Stiles looks like cream and Dereks hands are always dirty, no matter how many times he washes up and maybe thats why he didn’t come outright and just say how much he liked Stiles from that first dinner, he liked him before but that first dinner just cemented it, and he’s sorry about how he found out because he was eavesdropping (because he is southern and a gentlemen thank you) but he’s glad that he’s finally told him because Stiles deserves to know that someone looks at him and sees someone important and lovely and kind and beautiful, and the messy bits make him even more of all those things and stiles cannot hear anything anymore he leaps and kisses Derek and Derek catches him and kisses back and moans so loud into the kiss because Stiles tastes every bit as sweet as he dreamed he would and Stiles clings on for fucking dear life because he doesn’t remember kissing or being this close to another human being feeling this fucking good and right, it always just felt warm and kind of nice but this. This, he couldn’t even think. Remember his name, where they were, he never wanted it to end but wishes he never felt it at all because how is he supposed to go on about his day after this doing anything else other than kissing Derek Hale????????

#baby idk what this is #sterek mini #mini fic #I have like 5 other fics to finish and sat down and posted this #jail #sterek #southern Derek hale #cowboy Derek hale #ficlette

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enha-roza · 2 days ago

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MORE ENHYPEN JEALOUS MOMENTS

Enhypen x 8thmember!oc

synopsis : Times where the Enhypen members were jealous over Roza.

wc : 2.7k

Heeseung : “Where are you going?” Heeseung asked, popping his head into Roza’s room. “It's Ryujin’s birthday, she's invited some of us out for dinner.” “oh that will be nice.” And Roza blushed as she continued to get ready and Heeseung watched her. “You look pretty.” He whispered. “Okay, that's enough.” “Sorry, sorry.” He smiled making his way back to his room. Now sitting at his desk about to get on his game Jungwon walks in. “Did you see Roza, she's heading out now.” “yeah i just saw her.” Heeseung watched as Jungwon stood at the door like he wanted to say something. “What?” “did you know Keeho’s gonna be there.” Jungwon smirked as Heeseung snapped his head back to Jungwon. “What… Keeho’s going to Ryujin's birthday dinner?” “Yeah, Sooyoung just told me. Thought i should let you know.” Jungwon left knowing the chaos he caused in Heeseung’s head.

Should he call her or was that being too much. Heeseung sat in his chair, his mind going through all things that could happen. What if Keeho and Roza sit together, what if they talk and get closer. He needed to distract his mind with some games. A couple hours had passed and Roza still wasn't home, so Heeseung decided to make some ramen to pass more time. He served it up and sat eating while his thoughts overtook his mind. He hated how he felt when Roza was around Keeho. Yes they broke up but they ended things on good terms and are still friends. He shouldn't be jealous right? Heeseung didn't have anything against Keeho, he just didn't want him anywhere near Roza.

He finished eating and right before he went back to his room he heard the door open. And suddenly all that jealousy came right back. “How was the dinner…” Roza noticed the slight rage in his tone. “Good… what's up with you?” her voice slowed as she looked at him. “I don't know, why don't you ask Keeho.” Heeseung mumbles. “Keeho? Why would I ask him?” “I mean wasn't he there. Talking to you, bet he didn't leave you alone all night.” Roza left confused as Heeseung got more annoyed.

“Keeho wasn't there, it was just us girls. No need to get jealous.” Heeseung stood still as he processed what she just said. “But Jungwon said he was gonna be there…” “what? That makes no sense. Why would Jungwon know that?” “I don't know…” Roza laughed as Heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed. “You need to calm it with the Keeho hate. You're making it a bit obvious.” “I don't hate him…” Roza eyed him. “Yeah, sure Hee.” Now he stood in the doorway dumbfounded. Jungwon got him good.

Jay : Jay loved spending alone time with Roza, especially after a long week. So when Jay and Roza were relaxing in her room after a busy week of schedule, the last thing he needed was Niki coming in to disrupt them. “Noona can I join you guys?” “Yes Niki, you can.” Roza said joyfully, opening her arms to invite him for a hug. Which Niki accepted. Jay was pissed. That should be him, it felt silly. Him, jealous over Niki.

He knew Niki could tell, he was doing it on purpose to piss him off. And he hated that it was working. “Noona I missed you…” Niki smirked at Jay. “awe Niki, i missed you too.” Roza none the wiser played perfectly into Niki’s plan. “We should do something tomorrow. Maybe bowling?” “Funny you say that Jay and I are gonna go shopping tomorrow, you should come.” Jay sat up and stared at Roza. “umm, no he's not.” “why not?” “It was gonna be some alone time for us. Can do that if you have a giant baby hanging on your arms.” Roza laughed as Jay ranted.

“Woah, calm down Jay. Niki doesn't have to come, it was just a suggestion.” Niki giggled as Jay rolled his eyes. “Sorry hyung, i just wanted to spend time with my Noona.” “yeah whatever, I know what you were up to.” “And you still fell for it… I'm gonna go now.” Niki smirked once before he left the duo alone. “You missed me too, huh?” “yeah, yeah… come here.” Jay pulled Roza into a bear hug.

Jake : Jake has been playing League of Legends recently and Roza has also been wanting to play. Jake was more than happy to teach her. He and Roza had spent many nights up playing and Jake loved it. There's nothing more he loves than personal time. So when Jake came home from a schedule to find Roza and Sunghoon playing League of Legends, he felt something in his gut twist.

“What are you doing?” Jake asked as he stood behind Roza, watching her play. “Oh, I'm playing League of Legends with Sunghoon. He's really good, you know.” Jake's smile dropped. “I'm better than him though. Aren't i?” His eyes looked over her face as she stayed quiet. “Come on, you don't think Sunghoon is better than me?” “He's ranked higher than you. The facts don't lie, Jakey.” Jake rolled his eyes, annoyed but knowing he can't ignore the truth. “Fine. play with Sunghoon. I don't care…” Roza watched as Jake dragged his feet back to his room.

Roza quickly shut down her game and found her way to Jake's room. “Hey.” “What do you want?” Jake turned his back to Roza. “I wanna spend some time with you, is that a crime?” “Go spend time with Sunghoon.” Roza sighed as Jake still sat back facing her. She sat down and put her head against his back. “I'm sorry Yunnie, I was bored and Sunghoon offered to play.” Jake tried to hold back his smile. “God, you're hard to resist.” Roza laughed as Jake engulfed her in a hug. “Trust Me I know.”

Sunghoon : “For the next game you need to pair up with another member.” a staff member announced as they members looked at one another. Sunghoon’s eyes looked over at Roza and watched as she turned to look at Jay. “Jay, you and me?” Jay nodded and Roza joined his side. “Hyung us two?” Sunghoon’s head snapped around to Niki. “yeah…” Niki watched as his eyes continuously drifted back to Roza and Jay.

“This is the piggyback game. One of you has to piggyback the other while trying to complete certain tasks.” “oh this is gonna be easy!” Jay said excitedly. “That's not fair, me and Niki are tall.” Sunghoon complained, now more annoyed. “Sucks to suck.” Roza said, winking at him, reading his jealousy like a book. “Yeah, whatever.” He sighed.

The game continued with Roza and Jay as well as Heeseung and Sooyoung doing the best. “I'm telling you it's not fair. Of course the pair with the girls is gonna do better.” Niki whined. “Okay final game!” the members laughed as the staff members ignored Niki. “Roza, Jay and Heeseung, Sooyoung will stand on a piece of newspaper and everytime you will fold it and keep going till one team wins.” Sunghoon stood to the side watching as Jay held Roza on his back and Roza’s arms wrapped around his shoulders.

He could practically feel the jealousy all throughout his body. Sunghoon knows he is a jealous person, he knows that very well. But he just can't help it when he sees Roza with other members, whether it's friendly or not. In the end Heeseung and Sooyoung won the game. “We were so close, we'll win next time!” Jay said, hugging Roza. “Indeed Jay, we will.”

The members had finished filming and were heading to the cars to head back to the dorms. Roza saw Sunghoon sitting in the back seat and sat down next to him. She tried to lace her fingers with his but Sunghoon pulled away and turned to look out the window. “Okay grumpy.” She smiled, knowing in time he will open up again. Roza watched as Sunghoon’s hand moved to hold hers. “Knew it.” She smirked. “Shut up..” embarrassment reddening his cheeks.

Sunoo : Roza, Sunoo and Sooyoung were going shopping for some new clothes as Winter was coming to an end and summer was not long away. “Ooh, let's go in here.” Sooyoung pointed as she dragged the other two into a store. “Omg all the clothes are so pretty.” Sunoo noticed that all the clothes were tailored towards women. Dresses, skirts and women's lingerie. “Unnie let's try these on.” Sooyoung pulled out two matching dresses. “I'll just wait out here…” Sunoo said, taking a seat outside the dressing rooms.

This is not how he planned his day to go. It was originally supposed to be just him and Roza but both got busy and had to put off their plans till another day. That being today. He loved having Sooyoung around but it wasn't wrong for him to want some alone time with each of his members. “What do you think?” Sunoo looked up to see Roza standing in front of him. “Wow, that suits you so well! You definitely have to get it.” Roza smiled and Sooyoung joined her side, matching dress adorned. “You too, Soongie.”

Time passed as the trio furthered their look for clothes. Sunoo’s jealousy was starting to get the best of him, he was starting to get snappy with both girls. “We should go in here!” “ugh, really? It's all female clothes, nothing for me..” Sunoo deadpanned at Sooyoung. “Well we're girls, where else are we supposed to shop.” Sooyoung eyed him back as she went in anyways. “Aren't you going in?” “nah, I think i'll stay out here with you.” Roza smiled at him but Sunoo’s expression stayed blank.

“You okay?” ‘yeah…” Roza watched as Sunoo stared blankly into space. “Sorry, I know we were meant to have our own time together.” “it's okay… things come up. We'll just have to plan another day soon.” Roza nodded and linked her arms with Sunoo. “I like the sound of that.” Sunoo now smiled, happy for plans to be back on track.

Sooyoung : The two girls were getting the makeup done for the award show that Enhypen was attending that night. Roza sat in the chair next to Sooyoung, she was on her phone messaging someone. “Who are you talking to?” Sooyoung questioned. “Oh, it's Wonyoung! We're gonna go get some dinner together after the shows done.” “oh nice…” Sooyoung looked away. Roza noticed it, she knew something was up. “You good?” Sooyoung looked confused. “I'm fine..”

Later the members were sitting watching the other groups perform when IVE members came to sit down. Sooyoung watched as Roza and Wonyoung chatted back and forth. She didn't know why she got this feeling in her stomach but it didn't make her feel good. “Hey, you don't look good.” Heeseung questioned as Sooyoung tried to focus on the performance. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired I think?” Heeseung nodded, brushing it off.

The award show came to an end and the members were now getting ready to head back to the dorms. Sooyoung settled into her seat ready to fall asleep for the drive back, when someone yanked her headphones out of her ears. “Going to sleep so soon?” Sooyoung sat shocked as Roza sat down next to her. “What are you doing?” “going to the dorm.” “What about your dinner?” Roza put the earbud she pulled out into her own ear. “Decided not to go, tired.” she snuggled next to her resting her own head on Sooyoung's shoulder. “You don't mind do you?” Sooyoung's smile stretched across her face. “Fine with me.” she whispered resting her head on Roza’s.

Jungwon : Tensions were high. It was award show season and the members schedules were packed, with very few days off. Roza was usually Jungwon’s right hand woman when it came to leading the members. She helped him wangle the members when they weren't listening. And he very rarely got mad at her. This time was different. Jungwon was on thin ice with everyone, no matter what they did Jungwon was bound to find something to get annoyed about. One reason came when Roza and Jake were playing around and not listening to Jungwon. At first he watched as they played around and slowly felt this bubbling jealousy in his chest. “Yah! Are you actually gonna listen?" The room went silent as Jake and Roza apologized and the members went back to practicing.

As time went on the members were almost done practicing and were taking a quick water break. “Okay let's go over everything once more.” the choreographer said as they got ready to continue. Jungwon looked over and noticed Roza and Sunghoon still talking, taking their sweet time. He wasn't sure why but it annoyed him. “Hurry up you two!” His eyes dug into Roza specifically. “Jeez, we're coming.” Roza said, rolling her eyes, now annoyed herself as Jungwon continued to seemingly single her out. The other members also noticing the tension.

“Stop messing up will you…” Jungwon grumbled to Roza as she kept messing up. “The more you mess up, the longer we have to stay here.” He said as the room went quiet. “I'm sorry…” Roza whispered. “Won ease up-” Heeseung tried to say before Jungwon glared at him, shushing him. “You haven't been paying attention this whole practice. Now would be a good time to start.”

Practice came to an end shortly after and it was time to leave. Jungwon was first to the cars as the other members came one after another. Jungwon noticed Roza wasn't in the car as Sunghoon came in last, shutting the door. “Where's Roza?” “She's staying late to go over the dance a couple more times.” Jungwon had already realized he let his jealousy get ahead of him. “Let me get out.” He quickly ran up to the practice room to find Roza sitting in the corner half asleep.

The noise of Jungwon arriving woke Roza and she quickly stood. “I was just about to practice. I promise I'll be better by tomorrow." This broke Jungwon’s heart. “No it's okay. I… I came to apologize.” “No, it's fine. It's my fault, I should have been paying attention.” Jungwon walked closer and grabbed Roza pulling her into a hug. “Please don't be sorry. It's my fault, I Lashed out at you. I was stressed and a little… jealous” he mumbled the last part. “What?” “huh?” Jungwon tried to play it off. “Jealous… why?” “Uhh, I don't know. We don't need to dwell on it. Let's go home.” “You love me too much don't you.” “maybe..” Jungwon smiled as the pair finally headed home.

Niki : Roza was set to do a dance collab with Yeonjun of TXT for an upcoming award show. Niki was curious about what dance they were gonna do, so decided to tag along and watch them. The duo arrived to find Yeonjun already warming up. “Hey guys!” “Hey Yeonjun!” Niki watched from the side as they began learning their dance.

If he were honest, he was a little annoyed that he wasn't picked to do a dance with Roza. Him and Roza made a great pair. He would have made a better pair than her and Yeonjun. Coming out of his thoughts he watched as both complemented each other, clearly enjoying working together. “I need air..” Niki muttered to himself as he went to get some water. Standing in the hallway not ready to endure another hour of jealousy, Niki decided to wander around the HYBE building.

An hour and a half passed before Niki heard his name being called. “Niki, what are you doing over here?” He turned around to find Roza standing at the end of the hallway. “Oh Noona. I was just getting some water…” “for the past hour? Are you okay?” She questioned as she slowly made her way towards him. Niki could feel his ears getting hot as she eyed him. “Yeah…” “are you sure, you can tell me anything you know.” Niki now felt bad. Roza clearly was worried about him. “I got a little jealous…” he whispered. “What? Say that again?” “I got a little jealous that you were dancing with Yeonjun.” He watched as her lips formed a little smile. “Don't laugh!” “I'm not! I promise, I'm not…” Roza held back her giggle as Niki pouted his duck lips in embarrassment. “Noona…” “I'm sorry. It's cute, okay.” “yeah whatever.” Niki rolled his eyes running away from her. “Wait Niki. Come back!”

a/n : hope yall like this <3

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suprababka · 2 days ago

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Saint Valentine's Day with them

A/N: Happy Saint Valentine's Day, everyone! Here is my valentine for all of you!🫂💝💌 Hopefully, you have someone (not necessarily a lover) to spend this holiday with :) (for example, I ate out with my friend😋) If you don't have a pair like me– If not, then OPM men are here to entertain you!😉

Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs and following me! I really appreciate your feedback and support, guys!🥰🫶

You can check my masterlist to see more of my other works.

Prepare for possible OOC!

(Sorry if there are any mistakes!)

And, most importantly, enjoy!!!

Sorry, but this man does NOT care about Valentine's Day

Maybe aside for sales in shops

So yeah, don't expect something romantic from him

If you don't feel like celebrating, then both of you just spend this day like any other day

If this holiday is special for you, then you have to talk to Saitama and explain to him that you want to do something romantic

He doesn't understand why would you need some holiday to do lovey-dovey stuff with your partner when being in a relationship implies doing that from time to time

Saitama isn't someone who loves going into fancy places and doing all too sweet couples stuff

(+ spending money on all of this)

And you know that

So both of you find a compromise: taking a walk in the park and then eating out in a cozy café that you both like so much or cooking delicious dinner together at home

The rest of the evening you spend watching TV together

Though your activity was interrupted once by a door ring

When both of you open the door, you see only a small, but beautiful bouquet of flowers and chocolates in a heart shaped box

It's signed "For Y/N💘"

You excitedly thank Saitama and both of you return to the TV

Saitama can't help but steal a few glances at you, admiring your beaming face

Later, he will need to thank Genos for helping out with a surprise for you

After all, it would be rude of Saitama not to gift you something when you gave him a box of chocolates in the morning, wouldn't be?

Even though Genos is inexperienced in relationships, you better believe that he prepares for this day

Firstly, he will ask you in advance your plans on this holiday and if you would like to celebrate it

If you don't want to, then it's all okay

(but Genos still gets at least flowers and chocolates for you)

If you'd like to make this day special, be prepared for another questionnaire from your boyfriend

Do you want to go out? To go to some romantic place? What are the criteria of a romantic place? Are in a mood for something extravagant or simple and cozy? How many activities would you like to do? Outdoor or indoor? Both?

You stop Genos and say that what matters is that you both spend time together

But if you have something specific in mind, your boyfriend will be only happy to comply

If you want Genos to surprise you, he will arrange that!

Thanks to his attentiveness and perseverance, he comes up with a great plan how to spend Valentine's Day together

Please forgive me, but I'm not going to tell you how exactly your day goes because!!!

Genos makes sure to include everything that you like (or might like) so you both enjoy your time together

So yeah, you can say that both of you celebrate the holiday like you want to

All I can add is that Genos gets you a box of chocolates, bouquet of flowers or strawberry covered in chocolate, and a note with a handwritten speech of how much he loves and values you

Speaking of gifts, S-class hero receives tons of letters with hearts from his fans

But there is only one that he accepts

Yes, Genos pays attention only to your gift

And it doesn't really matter to him what you give: a pair of socks, a valentine, chocolates that you made, heck, even a rock

He will be grateful for any gift and will keep it for himself like it's something sacred

Sonic is actually excited for Valentine's Day

He will spend the day with his precious girlfriend! Why wouldn't he be happy?

Moreover, not just a day, but a holiday devoted to couples

Meaning, to you and him as well

(the funny thing is that he didn't even care about Valentine's Day before he met you)

Since it's winter, Sonic can't make you a bouquet of flowers

But he can make a paper one!

I feel like he's good at origami and crafting, so he settles to a bouquet made of paper

And yeah, your boyfriend doesn't want to buy you a real one not because he doesn't want to spend money on you, but because he believes there's more soul in handmade gifts

He spent the night on making it

His heart melts when you receive the bouquet with that sweet smile of yours and in exchange give him a box of chocolates that you made

He looks so thrilled when he stares at the gift!!! <3

And of course Sonic immediately starts devouring chocolates, sharing them with you

Thankfully, he stops and saves some for later

After that, you both take a walk in the forest

If there is enough snow, you definitely play snowball fight, make angels and a big snowman

After a long, but lovely walk, you head back to home where the coziest part of the evening begins

In order to warm up, you make your favourite hot drinks with something sweet as a snack (your leftover chocolates, for example) and cuddle with a blanket draped over both of you

When you're done, you just chill for some time

Suddenly, Sonic suddenly stands and asks you to wait for him while he prepares dinner

You're quite surprised and intrigued

When you suggest your help, Sonic decisively declines, saying that he wants to make dinner for you by himself

And suggests you to take a nap / scroll through your social media / play games on your phone / read a book / have a shower / do something else

But you don't have to wait for long

Soon enough, Sonic appears with a proud smile and invites you in his kitchen

You're wowed when you enter the room and see how candles on the tables are the only thing that lights up the room

Speaking of table, you notice that it's served like in restaurants: white tablecloth covers the table, a vase with the paper bouquet stand right next to glasses with your favourite drink, cutlery is carefully placed between plates with silver cloches on them

As both of you sit down, Sonic takes off the cloches to reveal your favourite dish

Undoubtedly, your boyfriend excelled at preparing the meal and making a romantic date for both of you

The gleam in your eyes as you say how everything is amazing is more than enough for Sonic to know that he reached his main goal: make you happy

I feel like one might think this is OOC, but hey, that's how I see our tsundere boy (^３^)

I believe that when Garou was a child, he acted like Valentine's Day was for fools

But in reality, he low-key wanted someone to send him a valentine

(and was jealous of popular kids who would get tons of them)

When he got older, he didn't care about this holiday

Until he started dating you

Garou doesn't show it, but he expects something special in this day

But don't get me wrong, he's not looking for some cheesy couples stuff

Deep down, he hopes that you give him a valentine

He'll be happy even for a small one

So please, please, please make him one🙏

He acts like it's nothing, but it means a lot to him when you give him your valentine

And you know it by how he smirks at seeing "For my pookie <3" and doesn't comment to stop calling him that like he always does

And by stealing glances at your boyfriend when he rereads your love note with that childish smile of his

(he thinks you don't notice it)

Don't think that Garou didn't prepare anything for you

He actually spends a lot of time thinking about what he could do for you

Buy flowers and chocolates for you? Nah, that's too cheesy for him

Make a valentine or craft something? Nope, he doesn't have the needed skill

(he actually has, but poor boy is self-conscious)

(spoiler: he definitely makes you valentines for the next years)

Cook something for you? Pass, he isn't a great cooker

Steal your favourite food from the restaurant or store? There is no way in hell you'd appreciate that

And the last thing he wants is to disappoint you

Maybe he should get you a little present like a plushie or perfume or..? Good idea, but Garou wants to put soul into his present for you

Huh, soul...

Your boyfriend takes your hand and starts leading you somewhere, saying that he wants to take you somewhere special

You follow him, being interested in what he has to show

It takes time to get there, but Garou promises it's worth it

If you feel tired, he will give you a piggyback ride or carry in his arms

When both of you get to the place, you're amazed at the opened view before you

It's a tall, frozen waterfall covered with snow

Truly a magnificent sight

Garou tells you it's a special spot that Bang once showed him

And that he usually comes here to clear his mind

He attentively examines your reaction to see if you like the surprise

Your boyfriend is kinda scared that you won't appreciate it and that he should have got you something material

But, judging by how your eyes light up and the corners of your lips curl up, you're more than satisfied

After chilling near the waterfall, you both head back to your house and have dinner that you kindly cooked

Usually, Metal Bat spends Valentine's Day with his sister, taking her to the amusement part or somewhere else

But his plans change when you appear in his life

Now he's looking forward to spending time with only you

Especially on a day like this

You and Zenko spend the morning on cooking chocolates or cookies for Badd meanwhile he is asleep

When he gets his homemade sweets from both of you, he melts and takes pleasure in savoring the chocolates

Duh, of course he loves it since his favourite girls made this for him!!

Unfortunately, the sweet morning bliss gets interrupted by a call from HA, telling about a nearby monster attack

And according to Murphy's law, Metal Bat is the closest hero available

Thankfully, it's a wolf-level monster, so S-class hero shouldn't have a problem with that

Badd promises you to be quick

And so he does

When he turns back, two big bouquets of flowers can be seen in his hands

One with roses is for Zenko

And the other (bigger) one with your favourite flowers is for you

You and Zenko thank Badd and start preparing yourselves for going out to the mall

Meanwhile, Metal Bat waits for both of you, eating his chocolates

When you're all ready, you go to some shopping spree or other small activities

Zenko has no problem with spending her brother's money on every item she likes

In contrast to her, you're humble even if your boyfriend is ready to buy you anything you want

He WANTS to spoil you badly

There is one item that piqued your interested though

But, unfortunately, it's expensive, and you decide to just move on with the shopping

After Zenko gets exhausted, the three of you eat out in a café

When you're finished, you see Zenko off her friend's home

And finally, you and Badd can spend time together alone

Moreover, it's just the two of you until the next day as Badd's sister is staying overnight at her friend's place

Your boyfriend doesn't really have plans on what to do, so he's eager to follow you

All he wants is to be with you and make you happy

If you want to just chill at home, Metal Bat is totally fine with that!

If you wanna take the most of the evening, that's great, let's go!

But no matter what, Badd somehow manages to pull that very thing that you wanted earlier out of his pocket and gift it to you with his valentine

You don't know how and when he prepared this, so it really surprises you

Grinning proudly, Badd watches how you enthusiastically thank him and proceed to unwrap your present and read his valentine

Little does your boyfriend know that a small surprise from you is awaiting him

But at home

Later in the evening, when you're cuddling with Badd on the sofa, you suddenly remember that his mailbox is practically breaking apart from fan letters and tell your beloved hero to check it

Badd furrows his brows and tells you that he would rather to continue cuddling with you

But you insist on your own

Finally, your stubbornness wins and Metal Bat hesitantly complies

He starts reading through his fan mail

Even though your boyfriend seems annoyed, you know that deep down he's pleased to read these letters

His expression suddenly turns into a surprised one and he looks at you

Ah, he finally gets to your surprise

You were quite puzzled to what you should give Badd on Valentine's Day

He didn't really need anything nor wanted to obtain

And you knew that he would appreciate any gift from you

Especially handmade one

So you settled with a valentine and a bunch of photos of both of you

When Badd finishes examining your present for him, he tells he's grateful for it

And the shimmering glimmer of tears in his eyes proves his appreciation

Valentine's Day is a painful topic for Amai Mask

No, not in a meaning that he once got his heart broken, or he feels lonely

But in a meaning that he has to do immense amount of clipping, photo shooting and other stuff for his merch and for partners by this holiday

This doesn't change when you both got together

Beaut is overwhelmingly occupied with his work before Valentine's Day

You barely manage to keep in touch with each other due to his busy schedule

So you don't really know how you will spend the holiday

Will your boyfriend be engrossed in his work? Or he will find some time for you?

Fortunately, you get a call from Amai late night before the holiday

He says that he's finally free and will be happy talk to you

You both spend great time talking on the phone

You're perplexed whether you should bring up the topic of Valentine's Day

On one hand, your boyfriend made it quite clear that he doesn't even want to hear about anything regarding this day anymore

On the other, he's free for the whole day and says that he misses you

So it must mean that he's looking for spending time with you, right?

Swallowing, you ask him about his plans for tomorrow

Silence

"... I was actually hoping to spend it with you", Beaut finally speaks

You're relieved to hear that

You both agree to just chill at Amai's place away from everything

But!!! Your boyfriend tells you to bring one of your fancy outfits with yourself as he has something special planned for you in the evening

This definitely improves your mood

You wake up feeling excited about the day

Not only because you're finally going to spend your time with Beaut and something particular is awaiting you tonight

But also because you're eager to realize your surprise for him

You spent a lot of time thinking on what you should get Amai

He has everything he needs

And gets a lot of stuff from his fans and important events

In addition, you're not sure how he feels about handmade gifts

But you for sure know that he values thoughtful gestures towards him

That's why you decided to make him breakfast

Amai Mask is probably going to sleep, a lot despite being an early bird

Plus, he probably will order food instead of cooking due to his exhaustion

So you have to make sure to cook everything before he wakes up

Thankfully, you manage to get to his place unnoticed and before he wakes up

And just like that, you started making breakfast

After some time, you hear how your boyfriend goes to bathroom and follows his morning routine

Beaut is quite pleased to see you when he enters his kitchen

You tell him to get settled because you're almost finished cooking

No complaints from him

He absolutely loves the food you made

He doesn't say it, but it means a lot to him

But of course you know it ;)

After having breakfast, you both just chill together, talking about anything, cuddling and definitely taking jacuzzi together

When evening comes, you get dressed, and a limo takes you... somewhere

Sweet Mask still doesn't tell you what you're going to do

When you arrive, you see that you're in front of that specific luxurious restaurant that you badly wanted to visit and that requires booking at least half of a year in advance

Amai only smirks at your impressed face

Moreover, you come here to try the famous tasting menu of your favourite cuisine!

I believe that it's obvious enough that you totally love the food and have great time with your boyfriend😌

I don't want to disappoint you, but Flashy Flash simply forgets about Valentine's Day

He notices that there is some commotion about this day in shops, but doesn't get into it

He has other things to deal with

When you ask him how you're going to spend the day together, Flash doesn't really understand your question

"Like usual," he says and goes to his hero patrol

While he's on his work, he can't help but return to your conversation

And replay the moment how your eyes lose their sparkle when you hear his answer and mumble something like "I thought we could do something romantic and spend time together today..."

Why would you want that out of sudden?

No, of course when you're in a relationship, you want to be with your partner as much as possible

But Flash has his hero work

Both of you know it

And that's why you plan dates in advance

You're always understanding when your date gets postponed

But why you seemed so heartbroken today?

Did you want to spend time with your boyfriend that badly?

It's not like Flash doesn't want to go on a date with you

But you both went out just a few days ago

When Flash takes care of some Tiger-level monster without breaking a sweat, he walks down the streets and notices how everyone is in some holiday mood

He can see heart pattern on almost every store, billboard, food truck...

Something is off

Soon enough, Flash notices a display ad that says "50% sale for your other half! Make a surprise for your pair in day of love!"

Day of love?

...

When your boyfriend goes off to his work, a few tears stream down your face

You don't even notice it until you feel wetness on your cheeks

Wiping away your tears, you try to calm yourself down

You feel like an idiot who hoped that Flash would care about Valentine's Day

You clench your fists for a couple of times and reach for a valentine that was in the pocket

Your hands almost start tearing apart the gift as you remember how you put your soul into it

You stop

No, it wasn't idiotic of you to make something cute for a person you love

You know that Flash struggles with showing his affectionate side

That's why he's always ready to listen to you if he makes you upset somehow

So maybe he didn't mean to brush you off like that?

Maybe he didn't realise how important this day is for you?

Or he had an emergency at work and had to quickly go?

Yes, you should just wait for your boyfriend and talk to him

And you will sort everything out like you always do

You decide to chill for now

But no matter what you do, you get reminded of Valentine's Day practically everywhere

Because of that, unpleasant thoughts start running through your head

What if Flash is out for a whole day?

What if he never understands the meaning of Valentine's Day, even when you explain to him the importance of the date?

Are you really going to spend the holiday alone?

Ugh, other couples are so happy together...

All your worries disappear once you hear a door opening and your boyfriend standing there with your favourite take out

He apologizes and tells you that it totally slipped off his mind what holiday today was

And he didn't mean to brush you off

So he's ready to spend the rest of the day with you

Of course, you forgive him and finally give him the valentine

After reading it, Flash pats your head with a small smile on his face

You already know that it's his way of showing gratitude

You happily eat together and then take a relaxing bath

Flashy even gives you a nice massage

Maybe this day didn't start how you wanted to, but everything went well in the end✨

Just like others, Zombieman didn't pay much attention to Valentine's Day

But when he gets into relationship with you, his opinion regarding this holiday drastically changes

He wants to spend the day with and do something special

If you don't feel like it, he is okay with just chilling at home

If you're as excited as he is, then he has another reason to do his best to plan the holiday

Zombieman is quite puzzled with choosing an activity to do

He tries to remember what place you wanted to check out, but nothing comes out in his mind

Not because he doesn't listen to you, but because you didn't even mention anything in your conversations

If you did, then he has no trouble with remembering it and taking you there on Valentine's Day

But let's imagine that Zombieman has to do some brainstorming to come up with a prefect place for you to go

He tries to remember what you were excited about in past days, checks his chat with you, even surfs the Internet, reading different articles with compilations of unusual places to visit with a partner

Finally, an idea pops up in his mind

He hopes that you will like it

When you both meet each other on Valentine's Day, he gives you a bouquet of flowers and a box of your favourite sweets

You give him a valentine for him in return

It may be not so generous like his present for you, but your boyfriend really appreciates it

After that, both of you start going to that mysterious place he has picked

He doesn't tell you what is it until you reach it

Doesn't even give you any hints

When you reach your destination, you don't see any mansions that stand out

Zombieman takes you inside, and you find yourself in...

Zoo center with raccoons?

That's unexpected

S-class hero can't really read your reaction

Are you disappointed? Or too stunned to speak?

Crap, maybe he should have told you in advance

But when you excitedly clap your hands with a broad smile on your face, he signs in relief

Both of you have fun while playing with raccoons, feeding them and taking pictures of yourselves with these fluffy animals

(mostly, photos are of you because Zombieman couldn't pass an opportunity to capture your cuteness)

Unfortunately, he has to tell you that you can't adopt a raccoon, at least not now

Some time later, both of you head to the café

And spend the rest of the evening, cozily chatting with each other and sharing your impressions of the day

I believe that King always felt lonely on Valentine's Day as he never had someone to spend this holiday with

So he would just stay in his room and play Doki Doki Sisters, locked away from the world

When he became a hero and gained his popularity, he'd get valentines from his fans

But it still felt wrong

After all, these people admired him for the image they created, not for real him

However, when you become his girlfriend, he can finally make up for the all Valentine's Days he spent alone

And no, it doesn't mean that he is looking forward to doing all couples stuff that you see on the Internet

King still prefers to spend the holiday at home with you

And you're not against that

Though you two still go out and spend time at your favourite café in the day

King is happy to exchange the valentines with you

It's first time when he made it for someone

And the first time he gets a valentine from a person who cares about him and who he cares about in return

He smiles sheepishly as he reads the love note

I swear, he acts like a young boy whom a girl kissed on the cheek for the first time in his life

This dude is 29 years old, remember

After having lunch at the café, you go to King's place and play games together

If there are features devoted to Valentine's Day in games, then you're both doing it

Such as sending valentines and gifts to each other, completing romantic quests, etc.

If you also play Minecraft together, then you definitely find out that your boyfriend built a huge heart (or something cute like this) and customized your home in your shared world

In the evening, you also make a heart sized pizza together <3

38 notes · View notes

th3mrskory · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter 9: Across the Divide

Pairing: Original fem!Reader x Origins!Logan Warning: angst, fluff, 18+ MDNI, SMUT, explicit language, loss of virginity, handjob, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, missionary, creampie.

A/N: If Chapter 8 was a punch to the gut, this one is… well, let’s call it an attempt at first aid. Sort of. Have you ever watched two people try to fix something in the worst possible way, only for it to somehow work because they don’t know any other language but this? Yeah. That.

Consider this a little Valentine’s Day treat. Twisted, messy, and completely them. Read when you’re ready. And yes, my inbox is still open for any and all reactions.

Word count: 7 k

© th3mrskory. don’t copy, translate, or use my works in any form with AI, ChatGPT or any other automated tools. I only share my stories here, so if you see them posted elsewhere, i’d appreciate it if you let me know.

The yard had grown quiet as the other workers moved further into the forest, leaving Logan to finish stacking the last of the wood alone. The sharp bite of winter hung in the air, his breath clouding in front of him with every exhale. The solitude was welcome—at least, that’s what he told himself.

But the silence didn’t stop the memories.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

Logan clenched his fists, the words circling in his mind like a relentless echo. He grabbed a log from the pile and slammed it onto the stump, the impact reverberating through his arms. The ax swung down, splitting the wood clean in two.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced.”

He knew better than to hope for steady ground, better than to let himself believe he could hold onto something good. With Evelyn, it had felt different—like maybe, just maybe, he could carve out a life that didn’t feel like running or regret.

Now, it felt like a mistake.

The kiss he’d seen replayed over and over in his head, each time cutting deeper. It wasn’t just her ex he was angry at, though the smugness on the bastard’s face made Logan’s blood boil. No, most of the anger was for himself—for being stupid enough to think he could be enough for her.

The crunch of boots on gravel pulled him from his thoughts. Pete and Rick approached from the truck, their faces drawn with concern.

“You alright, Howlett?” Pete asked, his voice cautious but probing.

Logan didn’t look up, hefting another log onto the stump. “I’m fine.”

Pete and Rick exchanged a glance, the kind that said he’s definitely not fine.

“Look,” Pete began, leaning on the tailgate. “You don’t want to talk about it. But you’ve been going at this woodpile like it owes you money. Maybe take a second to breathe?”

“I don’t need a breather,” Logan said flatly, his tone daring them to push further.

Rick, quieter but no less perceptive, stepped up beside Pete. “You don’t have to talk,” he said after a pause, his voice measured. “But if you keep bottling it up, it’s gonna come out sideways.”

Logan didn’t respond, his focus locked on the ax as he brought it down with enough force to split the log cleanly.

Pete let out a low whistle. “Man, whatever’s eating at you must be big. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Logan finally stopped, leaning on the ax handle and leveling Pete with a glare. “I said I’m fine.”

“Sure, sure,” Pete said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But if you keep this up, there won’t be any wood left in the yard for the rest of us.”

Rick sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “Look, Logan. I don’t know what happened with Evelyn, but if she’s got you this twisted up, maybe she’s worth hearing out.”

Logan’s grip on the ax tightened, his jaw clenching as he stared at the ground. The truth in Rick’s words cut deeper than he cared to admit.

“Not my place to butt in,” Pete added, though his grin said otherwise. “But if you’re spending this much time stewing over it, she’s probably thinking about you, too.”

Logan shot them both a sharp look, then yanked the ax from the stump and turned toward the forest. “Leave it alone,” he muttered, stalking off into the trees without another word.

Pete waited until Logan was out of earshot before muttering, “Yeah, that went well.”

Rick shrugged, grabbing the thermos from the truck bed. “He’ll figure it out. He always does.”

During the course of the next couple of days the rhythm of the yard was the same, but Logan’s presence felt heavier. He worked harder than usual, his focus razor-sharp, but the tension in his frame was impossible to ignore.

Pete and Rick kept their distance this time, their occasional glances filled with concern.

By midday, Logan had thrown himself into another project, replacing a broken tool rack near the shed. His movements were precise, his jaw set in determination. But even as he worked, his mind wandered—back to the driveway, to Evelyn’s face when she saw him, and to the kiss that had shattered something inside him.

The guys noticed, but they didn’t say a word. Pete started a fire near the edge of the clearing, his usual jokes subdued. Rick passed by with a nod but left Logan to his thoughts.

By the time dusk fell, Logan was still at it, the hammer in his hand swinging with a force that bordered on reckless.

Tension seemed to follow him wherever he went, and his coworkers gave him a wide berth, exchanging knowing glances but keeping their distance.

The others gave him a wide berth, the tension in the yard thick enough to cut with a blade. Midday, the office phone rang, its shrill tone breaking the monotony of the worksite. Rick wiped his hands on a rag as he stepped inside to answer.

“Yeah, this is Rick,” he said, leaning against the desk.

“Hey, it’s Mary,” his wife’s voice came through the line, light but concerned. “Thought you’d want to know—I saw Evelyn back in town. She was at the general store this morning.”

Rick raised an eyebrow, glancing out the window toward Logan. “That right?”

“She looked... well, not great. Like she’s been through it. Thought Logan might want to know.”

Rick thanked her and hung up, stepping back outside with a purposeful stride. Pete caught his eye as he walked toward Logan, who was hunched over another stack of wood.

“What’s the news?” Pete asked.

Rick ignored him, stopping a few feet from Logan. “Hey, Howlett,” he called out, his tone even.

Logan didn’t look up. “What?”

Rick hesitated, then said, “Mary saw Evelyn in town this morning. Thought you’d want to know.”

Logan froze, his hands stilling on the axe handle. For a moment, it looked like he might respond, but then he shook his head and resumed working.

“Good for her,” he muttered, his voice flat.

Pete stepped forward, frustration evident in his expression. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re hurting, and so is she. Go talk to her.”

Logan’s grip on the axe tightened, his knuckles white. “I said I don’t care,” he snapped.

Pete sighed, throwing up his hands. “Alright, fine. Be stubborn. But don’t come crying to us when it’s too late.”

Rick shot Pete a warning look, but Logan didn’t seem to hear them anymore. He swung the axe down with a force that sent the wood flying, the conversation over.

When the day finally ended, Logan climbed into his truck, his body aching from the nonstop work. The drive home was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound to fill the cab.

As he pulled onto the dirt road leading to his cottage, his headlights illuminated a familiar vehicle parked in his driveway. Logan’s chest tightened, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he slowed to a stop.

It was Evelyn’s truck.

For a long moment, he sat there, staring at it, his mind racing. A part of him wanted to get out, to see her, to hear whatever explanation she had to offer. But the memory of that kiss, of her ex standing so close to her, was a wound that hadn’t stopped bleeding.

With a sharp exhale, Logan put the truck in reverse and backed down the road.

He didn’t look back.

The next day Logan was halfway to the kitchen when he noticed the Polaroid resting on the mantle—the one Evelyn had taken of herself.

He stared at it for a long moment, his chest tightening as he reached out to pick it up. The sight of her smile—the carefree warmth in her eyes—brought a lump to his throat he couldn’t swallow.

A sudden knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. He hesitated, his grip on the Polaroid tightening as he listened.

“I know you’re there, Logan,” Evelyn’s voice called softly from the other side. “Are you done running away from me? Please... let me explain.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the photo in his hand. He didn’t move.

“Logan,” she tried again, her voice trembling. “I’m not leaving until you hear me out.”

Still, he didn’t answer.

The minutes stretched on, the silence heavy and suffocating. Eventually, Evelyn exhaled shakily, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry. For everything. For not stopping him, for not calling you first. I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me.”

When the sound of her footsteps receded, Logan finally let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He sat down heavily, the Polaroid still in his hand as the weight of the past few days pressed down on him like a boulder.

They didn’t speak for a week after Evelyn’s return. The silence between them was deafening, but neither seemed willing to bridge the gap.

The logging yard was alive with the rhythmic sound of axes striking wood, the hum of engines, and the occasional crack of a tree falling in the distance. Evelyn’s truck rolled into the gravel lot, its tires crunching softly against the frozen ground. Her heart pounded as she parked near the edge of the clearing, unsure if she had made the right decision by coming here.

As she stepped out, the cold air nipped at her cheeks, her breath visible in the chill. Her gaze scanned the bustling yard until it landed on two familiar figures standing near the truck bed—Rick and Pete. They noticed her almost instantly, exchanging a quick glance before Pete raised a hand in greeting.

“Miss Evelyn!” Pete called, his tone warm but tinged with curiosity. He closed the distance between them, wiping his hands on his flannel shirt. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Everything alright?”

She hesitated, shifting on her feet as Rick joined them, his expression more reserved but just as welcoming.

“Is Logan here?” she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

Pete and Rick exchanged another look, this one heavier.

“He’s around,” Rick said carefully, his arms folding across his chest. “But this probably isn’t the place for whatever conversation you’re looking to have.”

Evelyn’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of the last few days catching up to her. “I’ve been trying to talk to him,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I went to his cabin, but... he wouldn’t see me.”

Pete winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s been... well, let’s just say he’s not exactly himself lately.”

“He’s hurt,” Rick added bluntly, his gaze steady on her. “You can see it in the way he’s working—pushing himself harder than he should. Whatever happened between you two, it’s eating him alive.”

Evelyn swallowed hard, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t even—” She stopped, her breath hitching as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I never wanted to hurt him.”

Rick’s expression softened slightly, and he nodded. “I believe you. But he’s got his walls up right now. It’s going to take more than just words to get through to him.”

Pete stepped closer, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We’ll talk to him. Try to get him to see reason. But you’ve got to give him a little time, alright? Let us handle it.”

Evelyn nodded reluctantly, the knot in her stomach tightening. “I don’t want him to think I don’t care,” she said softly.

“He knows,” Pete assured her, his voice surprisingly gentle. “He’s just too damn stubborn to admit it right now.”

The drive back to the cottage felt longer than usual, the winter landscape passing by in a blur. Evelyn’s mind raced, replaying her conversation with Pete and Rick. Their words had given her a small measure of hope, but the weight of uncertainty hung heavy in her chest.

By the time she reached home, the familiar sight of the cozy cottage brought a semblance of comfort. She slipped inside, the warmth of the woodstove embracing her as she shed her coat and boots. Her gaze drifted to the basket of unfinished crochet pieces sitting by the couch.

With a deep breath, Evelyn settled herself down, picking up the half-finished sweater she had started weeks ago. Her hands moved methodically, the repetitive motion of the hook and yarn soothing her frayed nerves.

Hours turned into days, and the rhythm of her life resumed, though it felt emptier than before. She spent her mornings tending to small chores around the cottage, her afternoons lost in her crafts, and her evenings staring at the quiet phone, willing it to ring.

She wanted to give Logan space, to let him come to her when he was ready, but the silence was agonizing. The weight of waiting gnawed at her, and though she tried to keep herself busy, the ache of missing him lingered.

“He knows,” Pete assured her, his voice surprisingly gentle. “He’s just too damn stubborn to admit it right now.”

It wasn’t until a rainy evening, as Evelyn was driving home from a fair out of town, that their paths crossed again. Logan’s truck was idling at an intersection, his expression unreadable as their eyes met through the windshield. Without thinking, she pulled over, her tires skidding slightly in the mud. She threw her truck into park and jumped out, the cold rain immediately soaking through her coat as she ran toward him.

“Logan,” she called, her voice barely audible over the downpour.

Logan slammed on the brakes, his truck skidding slightly before halting. He stepped out, his gaze finally meeting hers, his eyes shadowed with a mix of anger and hurt. Rain plastered his hair to his forehead, drops clinging to his lashes as he looked at her.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growled, his voice low and sharp.

“I’m trying to fix this,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can’t stand how things are between us right now.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his hands clenching at his sides. “Maybe things are better this way.”

“No,” she said firmly. “They’re not. I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. I’m not letting you leave again. Not without hearing me out.”

“I’ve heard enough.”, he spits out.

Evelyn steps closer, her voice rising over the rain.“No, you haven’t! You think you know what happened, but you don’t! That kiss—it wasn’t me. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it.”

Logan’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing.“Didn’t look like you were pulling away, either.”

“I froze! I didn’t know how to react. But the second I saw you, it was over. I didn’t care about him—I care about you.”, she said looking at him.

He let out a harsh breath, looking away. “Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change what I saw.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she admitted, tears mixing with the rain. “But it doesn’t mean I didn’t care about how it would hurt you. I love you, Logan. Do you hear me? I love you. And I’m not letting you push me away because of one stupid mistake.”

Logan’s breath catches, his usual walls crumbling under the weight of her words. For a moment, he just stares at her, the rain streaming down his face, a flicker of something raw crossing his face. “Don’t say that,” he muttered. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it,” she said, her voice breaking as tears mixed with the rain streaming down her face. “I love you, and I’m sorry for everything. For not stopping him, for not calling you first. I never wanted to hurt you, Logan. Please believe me.”

For a long moment, they stood there in the rain, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. Finally, Logan closed the distance, his hands cupping her face as he kissed her—desperate, hungry, and filled with all the emotions he’d kept bottled up.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads resting together, Logan exhaled softly. “I love you tooI’ve been alone a long time,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I know how to do this... but I can’t lose you.”

Evelyn smiled through her tears, her hands still cradling his face. “You’re not going to lose me, Logan. We’ll figure it out together.”

The rain continued to pour around them, but in that moment, it felt like the storm had finally passed.

Logan’s eyes searched hers, and without another word, he leaned in again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was deeper, hotter, and filled with all the longing he had tried to suppress. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Evelyn responded with equal fervor, her fingers threading through his rain-soaked hair, her lips parting to meet his urgency. The rain continued to pour around them, but neither seemed to care. Each kiss was hungrier than the last, the heat between them undeniable despite the cold storm.

Logan’s hands slid up her back, strong and steady, anchoring her as their kiss deepened. When she pressed against him, he let out a low, guttural sound, his restraint slipping. His lips left hers, trailing along her jaw and down her neck, his breath hot against her skin as her head tilted back, exposing more of her to him.

“Maybe we should—” Logan murmured against her neck, his voice rough and uneven.

“Get out of the rain?” she finished breathlessly, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the tension crackling between them. “Yeah. Before we end up with pneumonia.”

They broke apart reluctantly, the air charged as they hurried to his truck. Once inside, the doors slammed shut, the rain pounding against the roof providing a steady rhythm to the silence that followed.

But the moment was far from over. As soon as the doors were locked, Logan reached for her again, pulling her onto his lap. Their lips collided once more, this time with an unrestrained passion that made her shiver. Her hands roamed over his chest, the damp flannel clinging to his broad frame as he held her tightly, his fingers gripping her hips as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

Their movements grew more heated, her hips grinding down against him instinctively as their breathing quickened. Logan groaned, his head falling back against the seat as she moved again, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through both of them.

“Evelyn,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “If we don’t stop now…”

She paused, her forehead pressing to his as they both struggled to catch their breath. The weight of his words hung between them, but neither made a move to pull away.

“Then let’s go,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the flush rising to her cheeks.

Logan’s hands tightened on her waist, his amber eyes dark with emotion and something deeper. “You sure?”

She nodded, brushing her lips against his once more, softer this time but no less certain. “I’ve never been more sure.”

Without another word, Logan gently lifted her off his lap, his touch lingering as they adjusted themselves. He started the truck, his hand finding hers as they drove through the rain, the tension between them simmering and unresolved—but not for much longer.

The rain hadn’t let up by the time Logan pulled the truck into the clearing by his cabin. The headlights cut through the downpour, illuminating the weathered wood of the small structure nestled among the trees.

Logan killed the engine, turning to glance at Evelyn. Her cheeks were flushed, her damp hair sticking to her neck and temples, but she was staring at him with an intensity that sent a pang through his chest.

“Come on,” he muttered, stepping out of the truck. The cold rain hit him immediately, but he barely noticed as he rounded the vehicle to her side.

Evelyn climbed out, wrapping her arms around herself as the chill seeped through her already soaked clothes. Logan’s hand pressed gently against her back, guiding her toward the cabin. The touch was firm but protective, his warmth cutting through the cold.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of pine and faint smoke. Logan flicked on a single lamp, its amber glow softening the shadows in the small space.

“Go shower,” he said gruffly, already shrugging off his wet flannel and hanging it on a hook near the door. His voice softened as he added, “Don’t want you catching a cold.”

Evelyn hesitated, watching as he bent to stoke the fireplace. The orange flames roared to life under his practiced touch, casting flickering light over his broad shoulders and damp hair.

“What about you?” she asked quietly.

“I’ll dry off,” he replied without looking at her. “Go on. Bathroom’s down the hall.”

She lingered for a moment longer, the warmth of his care sinking into her even if his tone was brusque. Then she nodded and disappeared down the hall.

By the time she returned, the cabin was bathed in a cozy glow. Logan had shed his wet clothes, now dressed in a clean pair of jeans and white t-shirt. He was seated on the couch, his head resting against the back, eyes half-closed as he warmed himself by the fire.

Evelyn paused in the doorway, her heart stuttering at the sight of him. He looked so unguarded, so human, a stark contrast to the stormy, gruff exterior he so often wore.

She was wearing one of his shirts—soft and slightly oversized, the sleeves pushed up over her elbows. Her hair was still damp, and her cheeks held a faint blush.

Logan’s eyes opened as she stepped into the room, and they darkened when they landed on her. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet between them carrying all the weight of what had happened that night.

She crossed the room and climbed onto his lap, straddling him without hesitation. Logan stiffened slightly, his hands instinctively resting on her thighs, but he didn’t pull away.

“Evelyn…” he began, his voice low, almost a warning.

“I just want to be close to you,” she whispered, her hands finding his shoulders. “Is that okay?”

Logan’s eyes softened, the tension in his body easing as he exhaled. “Yeah,” he murmured, his hands sliding up to rest on her waist.

She leaned forward, her forehead pressing gently to his. They sat like that for a moment, the crackling fire filling the silence. Logan’s hands moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer, and she sighed softly, her fingers trailing along the curve of his jaw.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said, his voice rough but sincere.

“I know,” she replied, brushing her lips lightly against his. “But I want this. I want you.”

Logan’s breath hitched as her hands slid beneath his shirt, her fingers grazing his skin with the kind of deliberate, maddening slowness that made his muscles tighten. He caught her wrists, holding them still against his chest as his amber eyes locked onto hers, dark with a mixture of frustration and desire.

“Evelyn,” he rasped, his voice low, like gravel, as though her name alone was enough to unravel him. “Don’t push me unless you mean it.”

Her lips curved—not into a smile, but something softer, something steeped in the kind of certainty he wasn’t sure how to face. “I mean it,” she whispered, her words quiet but carrying the weight of all the times she hadn’t said them before.

Logan’s grip on her wrists loosened, his hands sliding up her arms and pulling her closer as if he couldn’t help himself. He lowered his head, his forehead pressing to hers, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the faint storm still raging outside.

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” he murmured, his voice raw, thick with the effort it took to hold himself back.

Her response was immediate, her fingers curling into his shoulders as she tugged him closer. “I’ve waited long enough,” she said, her voice steady despite the way her heart was racing. “Haven’t you?”

The question landed like a punch to his chest. Of course he had. Every glance, every touch, every moment she’d been close enough to feel but not touch—it had all been building to this, wearing him down piece by piece. And now, here she was, not just asking but demanding, her presence overwhelming in a way that left him powerless to resist.

“Damn it, Evelyn,” he growled, his voice barely a whisper as his hands slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him. His lips captured hers with a ferocity that surprised even him, the kiss deep and unrelenting, years of restraint and denial crumbling in an instant.

She responded in kind, her hands threading into his hair as if she couldn’t get him close enough. Her hips shifted instinctively against his, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest that sent a shiver racing through her.

When he pulled back, it was only far enough to press his forehead to hers, his breath ragged as his hands tightened on her waist. “If we keep going…” His voice was strained, his words a warning that came too late.

Her gaze locked onto his, unwavering. “Then we keep going,” she said simply, her voice soft but resolute. Her hands drifted down to the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward in one fluid motion.

Logan let her strip it away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he studied her. His hands hovered at her sides, hesitant, even now. “You sure?” he asked, the question a bare whisper, almost lost in the space between them.

Her answer was to close the gap, her lips brushing his with a gentleness that sent his control spiraling. “I’ve never been more sure,” she murmured, her voice steady even as her fingers traced the faint scars across his chest.

Logan groaned softly, his hands finally moving, sliding up her sides with a reverence that made her heart ache. When he kissed her again, it wasn’t hurried—it was slow, deliberate, as if he was trying to commit every second to memory.

Without a word, he shifted, lifting her effortlessly and carrying her the short distance to the bedroom. He set her down carefully, his hands lingering at her hips as he stood over her, his chest rising and falling with the effort of restraint.

Her hands reached for him again, pulling him down until he was hovering above her, the weight of him grounding her as much as it electrified her. His lips found hers, his kiss deepening as his hands explored her body with a mix of hunger and care.

When her hips rolled against him again, drawing another guttural sound from his throat, Logan pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “If we’re doing this,” he said, his voice a growl softened by something deeper, “I’m not letting you go.”

Her lips curved, her fingers threading into his hair and tugging just enough to make him groan. “Good,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion and desire. “Because I don’t want you to.”

Logan’s eyes locked onto hers, the raw heat in his gaze making her pulse race. He crushed his lips to hers, the kiss no longer gentle but searing, desperate, as though he couldn’t get enough of her.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he pressed her back into the bed. The weight of him was intoxicating, his strength overwhelming yet controlled, as if he were holding himself back by sheer will alone. She wasn’t having it. Her fingers slid down his chest, nails skimming the taut muscles before finding the button of his jeans. With a flick of her wrist, she popped it open, dragging the zipper down with deliberate slowness, savoring the sharp inhale he couldn’t suppress.

Logan growled against her mouth, his breath hot and uneven as he broke the kiss to bury his face in her neck. His teeth scraped against the sensitive skin, a teasing bite that made her gasp and arch into him.

Logan’s hands, large and rough, gripped the hem of her shirt and yanked it upward, pulling it over her head in one fluid motion. The garment fluttered to the floor, forgotten, as his eyes roamed over her, dark with hunger.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice a low, gravelly murmur, tempered with a tenderness that made her chest tighten.

Her cheeks burned, her nerves tangling with her desire. “I… I want to,” she whispered, her fingers gripping the edge of his waistband, but her voice trembled despite her conviction. “I just—”

Logan silenced her with a kiss, this one slower, deliberate, as if he were savoring her. When he pulled away, his thumb brushed over her cheek, his expression a mixture of hunger and restraint. “You don’t have to rush anything,” he said softly, his forehead pressing against hers.

Her heart thudded at his words, and she nodded, her fingers trailing up to his chest, where his heartbeat was steady and strong beneath her touch.

Logan’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, his hands moving to her waist, steady and sure.

Her hands trembled as she reached for him, sliding over his chest and down to the waistband of his jeans. “I want to see you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan grinned, the expression almost feral, but there was a softness in his gaze as he stood to strip off his jeans and boxers in one smooth motion. When he returned to her, he moved slower, his body warm and solid as he pressed against her.

“Touch me,” he encouraged, his hand guiding hers to explore the ridges of his chest and the lines of his muscles. The heat in his voice was laced with reassurance, and the way he watched her, patient and unhurried, made her boldness grow.

Her fingers mapped his skin, her touch tentative at first, but when he groaned, low and deep, she felt a thrill she couldn’t ignore. “Like that,” he murmured, his hand sliding down her thigh to pull her closer, his touch igniting sparks along her skin.

She tentatively grabbed hold of his thick and veiny penis, wrapping her fingers around him. Logan inhaled sharply at her touch, his jaw tightening momentarily before his expression softened. He placed his hand gently over hers, guiding her movements with slow precision.

"Just like that," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Evelyn’s blush deepened, but she didn’t pull away, her curiosity outweighing her hesitation. She watched his face, captivated by the way his brows furrowed slightly, his lips parting as she followed his lead. Her movements were clumsy at first, uncertain, but Logan’s patience never wavered.

"Good," he whispered, his voice laced with encouragement. "You're perfect."

The praise sent a shiver through her, and she felt a growing confidence in her actions. Logan leaned down, kissing her deeply, his hand sliding from hers to cup her cheek once more, anchoring her in the moment.

“Logan,” she breathed, her voice shaky but filled with trust.

"May I?" he asked, his fingers toying with the delicate fabric of her panties.

Evelyn nodded, her breath catching as he began to slide the garment down her legs. His eyes never left hers, even as he rid her of the last barrier between them. Once she was bare beneath him, Logan took a moment to simply look at her, his gaze reverent.

Logan let his hands smooth over her thighs slowly opening them up, her arousal glistening in the low light of the room.

“Don’t be scared”, he whispered as he lowered himself coming face to face with her sex. “You smell so good.”, he said, nuzzling the skin of her inner thigh.

Logan peppered kisses over her mound and inner thigh’s, whie his hand snaked up to grab hold of her right breast and gave it a good squeeze.

Logan gave a kiss to her clit eliciting a moan to erupt from deep within. He took that as a sign to keep going, the hand that was on her breast trailed down her belly and stopped when it came in contact with her pussy. His index and pointer finger lowered down to her glistening hole collecting her arousal and spreading it around. Evelyn gasped and his tongue ran a single long line across her slit to her bud,making her shiver at the foreigner feeling.

“Logan…” she moaned.

“Tell me what you want.” he answered, his breath fanning over her hole.

“More of that, please.”

He took her plea as an incentive to keep going. His tongue replaced his thumb, slowly circling her clit and occasionally dipping it to her hole.

Evelyn's legs closed instinctively around his head as her moans became incrinsingly louder.

“Feel good?” he asked rhetorically.

She nodded looking down at him and biting her lip.

His index finger started to circle her hole as his tongue remained focused on her clit, carefully dipping it in, until his hand came in full contact with her pussy.

Evelyn moaned at the intrusion but welcomed it. Logan started to slowly pump it in and out, creating a steady rhythm.

Evelyn started to moan softly, and at that Logan decided to add another finger.

“Oh God…”she moaned as his fingers pumped easily in and out of her.

Her hand clasped around his arm as he began opening her hole “Logan…”

He positioned himself above her, continuing to pump his fingers. He licked her lips and gently bit her bottom lip pulling it slowly.

Evelyn, taken over by the overwhelming feeling, grabbed hold of his arm.”Logan…”, she moaned.

Logan could feel her walls tightening around his fingers and incresead the spead,making sure to stimulate her clit with his thumb.

A loud moan erupted from Evelyn as she came hard.

Content with this work, Logan retrieved his fingers from her hole and, staring at her eyes, sucked his fingers clean.

“So good,” he said as he laid between her legs.

Evelyn blushed at his words and pulled him in for a kiss. Logan laid his hips over hers, allowing for his manhood to come in direct contact with her pussy. As the kiss grew hungrier, their hips started to move, creating friction, allowing for moans to erupt on both ends.

Logan, without breaking the kiss, pulled his hips back, allowing for him to line himself with Evelyn's entry. He began to slowly push in, feeling the resistance slowly ease.

Evelyn gasped in his mouth, as she felt him bottom out.

Logan rested his forehead on hers and intertwined their fingers above her head.

“How are you feeling?”he asked, looking for any sign of discomfort.

“Full,” she said breathlessly.

He shifted his hips slightly, giving her time to adjust, his hand caressing the curve of her waist to steady her. Evelyn gasped again, her legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as her body adjusted to the stretch and fullness.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Logan said softly, his voice carrying both reassurance and patience.

“I just… I need a moment.”she replied breathlessly, her cheeks flushed.

Logan nodded, leaning down to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering there. He stayed still, allowing her to acclimate to the new sensation. His fingers remained intertwined with hers, their grip grounding her in the moment.

When Evelyn shifted her hips experimentally, a soft sigh escaping her lips, Logan took it as a sign to move. Slowly, he began to withdraw before easing back in, his movements controlled and deliberate. He watched her face closely, his sharp eyes scanning for any trace of discomfort, but all he found was awe and the growing haze of pleasure.

Evelyn’s breaths came in short gasps, her lips parting as she met his thrusts tentatively at first, then with increasing confidence. The connection between them deepened with every movement, the air heavy with shared vulnerability and trust.

“You’re doing so good,” Logan praised, his voice rough yet tender as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his lips brushing her skin.

Her hands tightened around his, her head tilting back into the pillows as soft moans spilled from her lips. “Logan… oh, Logan…” she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of astonishment and need.

He groaned at the sound of his name on her lips, his pace quickening slightly as he felt her relax around him. Their bodies moved together, finding a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. The heat between them built steadily, the tension mounting as every thrust brought them closer to the edge.

“You're so tight and wet- Fuck” he rasped, his voice thick as he pressed his forehead to hers once more.

Logan's hand left hers to brush a strand of damp hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her flushed cheek. “I got you baby,” he whispered, his tone reverent.

One of his hands made its way down, and Logan began circling her bundle of nerves.

“Yes! Oh, my God, yes!” Evelyn cried as her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders for stability, as she felt herself overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

He smiled looking at her. “Look… Look at how good we fit together - shit” he moaned.

Evelyn looked down, and was amazed at the sight, his thick and veiny member covered in her slick going in and out of her, the motion creacting a creamy white ring at the base of his manhood.

“Logan,” she said moaned.

Logan speed up, the sound of slapping skin feeling the room.

“It's okay baby, let it happen.” He leaned down and kissed her with a bruising force.

Evelyn moans filled the room.

She looked deep in his eyes and took hold of his hair.

She tugged on his hair as she came hard around him, the bed beneath her shaking.

Logan growled as his tip bumped into her cervix, the extra lubrication helped him dive even deeper.

“Sh-it!” He cursed as he felt her walls contracting around him urging his release.

Logan moaned deeply as his penis throbbed, spilling his seed deep inside of Evelyn’s velvety walls.

The new sensation made her eyes roll to the back of her head. It was something so deeply intimate and messy.

Logan collapsed on top of her. They were still both breathless as he lifted his head and looked at her.

“You okay?” He asked breathlessly as placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Evelyn smiled against his mouth, her arms still wrapped loosely around his shoulders. “More than okay,” she murmured, her voice carrying a mix of awe and teasing.

He smiled gently, lifting himself off her, to pull out his member from her. He growled at the sight of their conjoined release coming out of her achy hole.

Logan laid beside her, his chest rising and falling in time with her soft breaths. Evelyn rested her head against him, her hand splayed over his heart as though it belonged there. The warmth of her body pressed into his, and he tightened his arm around her, pulling her impossibly closer.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her breathing evening out as sleep began to claim her. Logan let his fingers trail lightly along her back, his touch lingering, savoring the moment.

For a long while, he simply stayed there, listening to her breathe, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Eventually, his own eyes began to grow heavy, his mind and body at ease in a way he’d never thought possible. With Evelyn tucked safely against him, he let himself give in, falling into the pull of sleep.

Together, they drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber, tangled in each other’s arms, exactly where they were meant to be.

Chapter 8

______________________________________________________________--tagging some amazing people that showed interest on my previous post (if you don't want to be tagged please let me know):

@coocoocachewgotscrewed @latinapiscess @littlebunnybigheartfics @themareverine @pandapetals @logansbaby @the-quick-red-fox @throwmethroughawindow @ifyouseethisnoyoudont22 @galacticglitterglue @whos-nin1

@thisismajortom21 @may-vol-6 @Oh-basic @sarahbarbosa22 @luvpalepinkjazz @irish-pooka @yologans @equilight @lxrxvsp @h4nluv @uncannywolverine @thesecretlifeofmo @mystifiesjdmtcw @socisse @thickynicky547 @peculiarpiscess @tezooks @greenturtlegirl @greenbearplaidbow @eummm @benispunk @th8mz @jounal3sports @alsoprettyinpink @softepiloguemylove @manicandobsessive @b-y-3-n @blahkateisdone @karencaribou @sidkneeeee @theworstwolvie @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @lunellas-library @pedroscurls @britttzy267 @aliensfeltmyjoy @steviebbboi

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taeaura · 20 hours ago

Note

Hey! I really like your posts.(Sorry for my bad English💔💔💔) And I feel so awkward asking you something..😭 Well, in general I was interested. Thomas is a very closed person and I was interested if it is AT ALL possible to get closer to him. Like, is this even possible? What would he value in a person? Or maybe there would be some rules when communicating with him and his family? Sorry if my question sounds stupid💔

Hi! Don't worry, your English is very good! This question isn't stupid at all - I think it's wonderful! Plus, it gives me more to work with which I always appreciate. I took this as an opportunity to introduce what life would be like as a Hewitt "guest" - Which I will expand on in future posts 🫀

Surviving Thomas {Hewitt} + The Family

Yay! You’ve survived the Hewitts - A real accomplishment if you ask me. Sure, you’re scratched up, bleeding, and traumatized but you’re alive, aren’t you? {Would’ve been better to die, but..can’t do much about that now.}

____

The Family

Communicating with the family? That's not gonna be as hard. Submission and respect is what they accept - Nothing but.

First of all, you’re not automatically “family” just because you survived - You’re a “guest” captive. You’ll join them for dinner, you will NOT interrupt prayer; You’ll do chores, specifically the tedious or strenuous ones: Cleaning bathrooms, helping with laundry, dusting {the house definitely needs it}, getting Thomas for dinner, tending to the animals, dishes, ironing clothes - Anything to help the family. You will do as you’re told. If you don’t, they won’t hesitate to penalize you.

Be prepared to give up all your belongings and morals. Everything they want, they’ll get. Books, clothing, food, MONEY, it’s theirs. If you have weapons, Hoyt is taking those IMMEDIATELY - They’re his now.

You will eat. Do not waste food, time, money, anything. The Hewitts have little as is, don’t decrease their chances of survival.

If you’re fem-presenting, watch for Hoyt and Monty. Both are sexual deviants with no respect for women outside the family. From what I’ve seen in the films, Hoyt tends to prefer blondes - I don’t see Monty as caring too much. Just like he did with Erin, Monty will ask for “help” when you two are alone.

“Can you help me grab that?” - “Could you help me get up?” - “Could you pick this up for me?”

Anything that gives him room to grope. He’ll try to trip you and lift your clothes with his cane, too.

Back to Hoyt,

Hoyt’s a piece of shit, but he’s not as bad once you’re “family.” It’ll start off very rocky - Calling you slurs, being physically, verbally, mentally, emotionally abusive, trying to grope and rub-up you {if you’re fem-presenting}, VERY little trust, and lots of belittling remarks.

“I don’t know what {whoever spared you} saw in you” - “One word, and I’ll get Tommy to chop your pretty ass up n’ serve you on this very dining table” - “What the hell are you doing? You ain’t doing it right..asshole” - Lots of comparisons to livestock and hookers, and lots of “you fucking idiot!”

Once he's gotten used to you, he'll respect you a bit more. {If you've gotten close to Luda Mae or Thomas, he'll calm down}. If you're not a straight white woman, he'll call you a slur and frame it as a joke - It's not. He respects those who're part of the family, but that doesn't mean he wont ridicule you when you {or a victim} pisses him off. The easiest way to gain his respect is work. When he sees you working your ass off for the family, he'll slowly but surely gain respect for you. It may not seem like it, but Hoyt Charlie does care. He'll protect you from whatever once you're part of the family..but he'll still be 'tough love'.

You’ll have the best luck with Henrietta - She’s the least likely to get violent or judgy if you aren’t judgemental to her. You won’t see her too often - But when you do, don’t get confrontational {this goes for every family member}. The Tea Lady {Kathryn} Won’t do much harm either. She’s not too confrontational, only minor teasing with other family members. When she comes over for tea with Luda Mae, don’t interrupt unless you’re spoken to.

OFFER AS MUCH AS YOU CAN !! If you see Luda doing housework, offer to help. At the scene around 1:12:00 in TCM: The Beginning, when Hoyt’s in the kitchen with Luda Mae - At around 1:12:20 when she says “I’ll go set the table”, it would be best if YOU offered to set the table. Preferably before she announces that she will. Recognize their routine, incorporate yourself by helping out when you can.

One of the biggest, most influential things you could do is warn the family when something happens. For example; in TCM:The Beginning, at around 1:16:55 {when Chrissie grabs the knife?} You should immediately either A.) Tell Hoyt; Or B.) Run after/Yell for Thomas. This will prove to them that you care about the family, their safety, and how they operate. That will automatically bring you closer to becoming a “member” of the family.

It’s easier to become part of the family if you’re: A woman {Luda wants a daughter}, a Christian, submissive, quiet, hardworking, or NICE TO THOMAS !!

This doesn’t mean you have to compliment Thomas or be attracted to him - Just don’t alienate him, stare excessively, or give him judgmental looks / remarks.

{if you’ve gotten close to Luda Mae}

When she starts talking about Tommy, that’s a good sign. ESPECIALLY in relation to you.

“Y'know, Tommy’s really starting to take a liking to you.” = He’s stayed up thinking about you.

If she ever sends you to get Thomas, she’s trying to set you two up / get you two closer. If she likes you, she’ll connect you with Thomas.

She’s pretty kind to you - But she’s still strict. No wasting food, no defiance, no secrets, no shaming of the family {especially Thomas}, do as you’re told. If you’re not busy, she’ll invite you to join her and Kathryn for tea sometimes. {Especially if you’re in a relationship with Thomas, they wanna know everything most things}.

Jedidiah just wants a friend. He's a lonely boy who will happily draw you {please praise it, he needs some.} He gets hurt often {cuts, bruises, scabs}, he's outside a lot. You might be asked to babysit, which if you do, be prepared. He's a bit of a chatterbox if he likes you. Draw together, pose for his portraits, and let him ramble about whatever's on his mind. {You could try to get family information out of him, but butter him up first.} This will also help you get closer to Luda Mae and Thomas - Showing care for Jedidiah is a good sign that you're not a total asshole.

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Thomas

Thomas is closed off for a few reasons: Previous trauma, anxiety, insecurity, and "fear" of outsiders. One of the easiest ways to get closer to him is by showing respect to the family. If you don't cause chaos, he’ll be less antsy around you. Especially if you get close to his mother. Be patient with him, please. He’s trying his best. Leave him alone when he’s stressed or really upset - He’ll usually storm off to his room or the basement. He needs time to himself, be mindful of that. Thomas, in his nature, is introverted. This doesn’t mean he hates people - He’s just very cautious.

You don’t necessarily have to compliment Thomas, but it’ll definitely help him weaken his guard. I.E; “I like your mask{s}” is a wonderful place to start. Even if you don’t like his masks, complimenting his work is the easiest way for him to reconsider how he views you.

He LIVES for praise. {This connects to the compliments} - Compliment his strength, his stature, his craft, how he provides for the family. STAND UP FOR HIM !!! Oh my god, and PLEASE thank him for things. For example, if he gets something for you, please say ‘Thank you’, it’ll mean so much to him. He just needs lots of praise and appreciation.

If you’re ever serving dinner, give him a bigger portion. He’ll appreciate it.

If you ever find things he might like {CD’s, Jewelry, BONES, Needles, Thread} anything he can craft with, give it. It’ll further weaken his protective walls and show that you’re one of the very few people who’s genuinely interested in Thomas.

When attempting to have a conversation with Thomas, do it when he’s not busy - And when he’s not too tired. At the dinner table? Not the greatest option; Hoyt will be eavesdropping and Thomas is focused on eating. Maybe after dinner - If no “guests” are around. If you’re gonna ask him questions, it’s preferred if they’re ‘yes/no’ questions. Something easy and quick for him to answer.

As soon as he starts loosening his guard, softening his gaze, staring at you / acknowledging you more, and doing things for you; You’re in. He’s semi-comfortable with you. When he’s really comfortable around you, he’ll treat you as if you’ve always been here. More touchy {depending on what type of relationship you two have}, open to conversation, less likely to guard his things; Just generally calmer around you. Oh, and he’ll be very protective :) {Hoyt and Monty will be deterred}.

Ask him how he's doing - He may not always respond but it's a start. Bring him water, don't get in the way of his work, give him his space, compliment / praise / acknowledge him, and let Thomas grow at his own pace. The best things take time, especially relationships {of any kind}. Mutual respect is key 🫀

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I hope this answers your question! If it doesn't {or you have more questions}, please let me know! Thank you for the ask <3

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