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pushingdaisies1 · 4 months ago

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Kinda hate you, kinda love you . . . ♡

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x Reader >_< (✧ ˚.) SUMMARY -> Being an X-men was a lot for you to sign up for. Well.. you didn't have a chance to deny this safe haven. The school became your home and the people that made up the X-men like a weird little familial unit. You had many reasons for staying as long as you did, but one was more prickly and jaded. The feelings you harbored for a stern and calloused Logan were.. weird for you to feel firsthand. One day, you are stuck overlooking a danger room drill between Gambit and Logan. With the new member of your world-saving team Jubilee by your side, it's too dull to NOT talk with each other. She was a good kid, hyperactive and spirited that's for sure. You talk, and talk a lot you do to the human embodiment of the fourth of July. It makes you think a little bit too hard about yours and Logans... predicament. (✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> Hiii!!! This is my first time writing stuff for Logan so - bee tee dubs it may be complete and utter horse shit. I'd like to thank @velvrei for helping me ignite some well-dead thoughts. Genuinely love ur work sm and reading that and a lot more new/old logan content helped TONS. This is linked to the {♡x-men animated series/x-men97♡} series. I do wanna write more for the Deadpool timeline xmen/early 2000s timeline xmen!! But after seeing the masterpiece that is Deadpool and Wolverine, I lowkey just clung to those shows. I love animated Logan!! He is even more emotionally stunted/sassy sad!! (✧ ˚.) CWS (?) -> Logan nd u are sad ppl who don't know how to voice ur feelings!! , pining from afar/one-sided not so one-sided yearning, UHM HURT/KINDA COMFORT??? MAYBE??? I THINK??? , unprompted suggestiveness from logan , mentions of struggling to connect with other ppl/fears of the future (bay bay jubilee my love) , u and Jubilee just kinda bond, off topic idk cajun dialect so..... , and u infodump as a weird suto older sister/mom in her life, this was all very spur of the moment so uhm - not proofread!!! kinda!!!!!!!

The dangeroom was a room a lot of the X-men team spent their time in. To either train for a new threat or for general movement, drills were a common theme. Especially after world-shaking events, which were always somehow a constant, the professor was the equivalent of an alarm clock. Drills this, always having to run down into the war room. You didn't mind the training sessions if it was one-on-one or even with the whole team. Sometimes though, it was almost nagging.

Though there were little things you'd do to pass this time. If you were made to overlook it or otherwise. Most of the time there didn't need to be supervision within the training center itself. Everyone was on high alert, and off days were few and far between. Logan had been hashing it out with Gambit all morning and wanted to do a specific procedure setting. You held your head in your hands as you sighed at the grown men's demands. Gambit was a professional sweet talker, Logan wasn't when needed. Of course, you complied, understanding the sudden want for more extensive training. When Jubilee volunteered you started to not loathe the idea of sitting in on Logan and Gambit - literally butting heads.

Jubilee was a nice kid, you felt bad for her sudden entrance into life within the school. The professor was welcoming as always. With your push and her foster parents wanting her to be safe from threats like the sentinels, she was a bonified member.

Being the "newbie" always had its drawbacks. From day one you made sure to have her back, you could relate to her whole fish-out-of-water point of view. Logan saw the way you attached fast to the kid. He was like a vault of thoughts and feelings. Thoughts and feelings he never wanted to bring up or even let alone talk about. But it made your heart flutter just a tad when he sat his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing a thumb against it.

He had stopped you before you were about to retire to your room. In the doorway to your personal, pillow escape he made sure to reel you down to earth. "Give the kid some breathing room. I know you want to help but there's no use for you smothering her."

You were almost baffled. What was he going on about? You were just looking out for her? Deep down, you did know what he meant. He might have not been a long-term X-Men member. But he did know you and the fragments of "memories" you held so dearly close to your chest. You two were so different and yet one in the same. Before you could even argue, he gave you a small .. somewhat comforting pat on said shoulder. "Just a friendly word of advice bub, don't take it so close to heart. Oh wait, that's inevitable." He joked at you with his signature toothy grin. You couldn't help but scoff in surprise and laughter as he jabbed at you with his SINGULAR witty remark.

Logan could be many things. Rough around the edges, even a total asshole when he felt like it. But to you, he was your kryptonite. It was pathetic the way you'd always eventually be pulled to bend at that man's every word. He just did that to you, and you had no answer to it.

Making your way up to the upper room with Jubilee, you watched with tired eyes as the door to the observation room slid open. Cold - walls and floor head to toe with this sleek metal texture. There were two chairs, right behind the control panel where the training sequence(s) would be initiated. Your eyes were trained on the window as you watched Gambit and Logan make their entrance inside the training room itself. Gambit of course was rapidly shuffling a deck of cards. They were almost flying in the palms of his hands as he prepared them. Logan was of course blabbing his big mouth, in his signature suit "lumbering up" as he would call it. Finally, as you just now sat your bottom into the smooth-cushioned observation chairs, Jubilee was already starting the conversation. Thank god for you as you were still shaking the morning off of you."So what? , we just watch them throw around with each other, or what?" She cracked with a curious glance at the two men down below. You rested your chin in the palm of your hand as you leaned back. "Pretty much, we're here just in case the system doesn't shut down in time. Sometimes it does that."

She paused before she gave you a pointed look, her chunky pink sunglasses almost falling off of her black head of hair. "We're babysitting them!?" She retorted with a sort of faux annoyance. "I mean it's 'something' to do but - come on...." She groaned as she crossed her arms, heavy in on the air quotations. Cutting in, you directed your hand to the control panel. "No no no, not just that.”

Gathering your thoughts, you pointed out each scenario on the deck. You couldn't help but crack a smile at Jubilee's small "ohs" and "ah's". With the development, you two were brought into a nice steady stream of conversation. Hunched in her seat, yellow boots crinkling in this position, she poked and prodded you about your style and so on. it was nice to be looked at with such idealization. Her eyes were huge with wonder as she jumped to questions and searched for answers. Though it was only so nice until the two of you were interrupted by the impact of a card deck. As it smacked against the window, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Hitting the intercom, you cleared your throat. "So sorry gentlemen! You two ready or what?" You retorted as you leaned over the panel. Gambit gathered back the cards into his hands. "Me? , 'course cher! Any day I would love to stick it to da fuzz ball over der." He remarked with a scheming smirk. Logan growled as his claws immediately sprouted from his knuckles. "I'll show you fuzz ball you pest." His lip curled up almost like a predator ready to pounce.

Jubilee sat back quiet as a mouse as she watched you talk through to the two. "Alrighty alright! Save the pouncing for later." You barked with a small chuckle at the end. You couldn't help but feel buzzy at the way Logan reared his head up. Gambit was too busy swapping cards from hand to hand. But all of Logan's attention was just on you, it was always just on you.

"Okay, how are we feeling about the ruined city for today?" You asked the two as Gambit started to twirl a card in between his middle and pointer fingers. "Yes yes yes, dat will do just nicely, right Wolvie?" He asserted - training a hard on the hard-headed "foe." Logan's voice was low and gruff as he found his stance. "Don't get so ahead of yourself Gamby." He retorted as he turned back to you in the window. "Start it up doll, before this one here loses all of his spice." He barked with a laugh as Logan jostled his mask on. You rolled your eyes with a faint smile. "If you say so, bee-tee-dubs .. don't kill each other! Please and thank you." You affirmed as the array of buttons were clicked. As the scenery shifted into a torn-down cityscape, foes were already on the two men. The only fun thing about watching over the training sessions was getting to watch fellow X-Men in action. Just not with the risk of losing your life in the process. Leaning back into your chair, you took in a nice breath of air. Peace, for now at least. Jubilee sat up more straight, letting her bright yellow duster-like jacket collect at the sides of her chair. She brought her legs to her chest as both you and she watched Gambit and Logans fighting. You could feel her eyes wander to you in the quiet. You looked directly towards her, a sympathetic smile gracing your face. "How are you feeling?" Your voice was small but warm, comforting almost. This was the first time someone had even really asked her. "I don't know... it's like everything is just changing at once. I feel like a big Rubix cube." She said with a frown as she got more comfortable where she sat. You nodded your head in almost remembrance. "Trust me, becoming an X-men isn't the hardest part. It's living like one." Admitting with a soft sort of comfort, Jubilee was already warmer than before. The training session flew by as you two just talked and talked. She lamented about what life would be like now, what she would and wouldn't miss. How she was stripped of living like a normal teenager. "I mean everyone here has already been so nice to me, but this is just gonna take a lot of getting used to. ", she would lament to you in honesty. You tried to be as insightful as possible. Telling her that living as an X-men will always be tricky. But there will always be the people around here that'll keep you steady. Her ears perked up when you listed off your so-called "anchors." She immediately butted in after you listed off the Wolverine himself, Logan. "That guy? You two seem to be always at each other's throats?" She cracked at you with an inquisitive grin. "Well I mean yeah - he can be .. overly confident a lot of the time." You were almost reminding yourself. You didn't realize how long you spent talking about your scruffy metal-clawed 'friend.' You went on and on about how he combated with you in the best possible ways. How with his time in the X-Men, he opened up your worldview in many instances. He did so much to you and for you. He was almost like your escape in a way, and he maybe shared the same view. You didn't get into the nitty-gritty details of it, 'cause ew. But the moments away from daily life hecticness within the school you and he shared were your favorite. His arms were the sweetest embrace anyone could ask for. But that's what friends do, that's what friends are for.

Though you always wondered if maybe you were wrong. Maybe you were holding on to nothing. Maybe there was an intimate connection between you two hiding under the surface. But you had a track record of getting your hopes up. You dashed those daydreams away as Jubilee yanked you back down into the now of things. Time flew by as the training sequence ended. Logan was immediately gloating his way out of the danger room. You and Jubilee met the two halfway. Gambit sang your high praises as he lamented about kicking Logan's ass in the drill. As the two grown men bickered Jubilee made her exit known. Since the professor was already summoning them all to the war room. Gambit waved you off with a small wink and another grand shuffle of his cards. Which just left you and logan ... fun.

He quirked his brow in your direction as he realized your quiet demeanor. “Can you believe the guy? - come on bub you saw me!” He said in astonishment at Gambit's gambit tendencies. You crinkled your nose in a small giggle. If you were seeing straight, you couldn’t help but notice a small dash of a smile on Logan's face once he saw your mood brighten. His smile always found ways to make your knees weak and arms all jelly. “Yeah yeah, dont get your panties in a twist Lo.” You said with a twinkle in your eye. A grin followed spreading almost ear to ear.

His eyes softened ever so slightly with your jokes. He grumbled out his poorest joke yet. “Oh, I’ll show you.” He retorted before yanking you into him. Your back met his chest plate as you felt his collection of sweat. His muscled arms wrapped around your midsection as he whirled you around like a windmill. You ignited with laughter and “yucks” as you felt his sweat spreading onto you. You fought out his hold with a grimace and a sheepish chuckle, wiping your eye. “Christ man, you got all your .. muck on me!”

By now his claws were already dashed away. So his hands were now placed on his hips. He rolled his eyes as he looked you up and down. “Come on, you’ll live to see another day shrimpy.” He claimed with his eyes slowly wandering. “I look like a wet dog thanks to you.” You frowned jokingly, shaking your arms out. “On and on with you.” He remarked once again with his eyes rolling AGAIN soon after.

Closer and closer the two of you got as you both threw phony insults back and forth. Before your lips were inches away from one another. He drawled his quick mouth up and spat back something that would leave your mind in utter… shock. Was confusion the right word? “Don’t play around with me, dimples. I know you��d like more than just my arms around you.” You quickly gasped out the pocket of air you were holding onto. A long pause was felt throughout the hall before you two darted in separate ways.

“I need to change!” You sheepishly shouted as you headed in the opposite direction of him. He did the same, mumbling whatever under his breath. “Don’t slip and fall!” He coughed out as you rubbed your face in annoyance. “Eat shit, Logan!” , “That’ll be a long time coming!” The both of you remarked to the other in unison. Both of your voices share the same sort of flustered frustration. You raced into the showers as you soon stumbled towards the sinks.

You splashed your face with cold water as your heart was still racing. Your cheeks were burning up let alone from his words. But you were soon able to catch up with your breath. Regaining your composure you looked yourself in the mirror. Gritting your teeth as you looked at the fool Logan made you. The Wolverine could be a hard-headed buffoon. Always on his way to making a snide insult with whichever X-men member was disagreeing with him. But god damn it was he your poison. You hated him and he hated you. That was the thing that kept you steady as you changed into uniform and raced towards the ongoing meeting. You knew that same smile still lingered on your face once you made your entrance into the war room. Able to brush off the team's sudden accusations as you made sure to remind everyone about the issue at hand. The Professor thanked you as he went back to discussing what new threats plagued human life. Your eyes always made their way back to Logans with small lingers. Making eye contact with you, his eye-line was diverted by you as you turned your attention back to the professor. The Wolverine was a fool, and he had already found purchase in your foolish heart.

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3 part two - ⭐️

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sonolynn · 4 months ago

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Comfort

summary | Aemond isn't lovable, he never has been. In his insecurity he finds you. He always finds you.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x fem!wife!reader

tags | not proof read (when is it ever), mentions of death, grief, killing of innocents, war crimes (kinda), low-key shitting writing I'm not gonna play with ya'll. Genuinely just angst

w.c. | 1.4 k

note(s) | Loosely based off of Conan Gray's "Alley Rose". This is literally pulled from my ass cause I wanna write but I didn't know what to write so I'm just going off the dome.

___________________________________________

Aemond was a vice. He corrupted everything he touched and everyone he loved. He made the wind stop singing and the moon stop shining. At least, that was what everyone had told him, or made him, believe.

But you were different. Somehow in this dark and cruel world Aemond found a beacon of light. He found you. You made him feel. Anything. Everything. All at once. He felt overwhelmed with you; How could someone like you-internally unsullied and outwardly unbroken by the horrors and disappointments of life-be so comforting to him, and yet also find comfort in him.

___________________________________________

He laid his head on your chest, his large hands gripping your sides as you ran your fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, sighing as he melted in the embrace. You two said nothing yet a million things at once. “You’re safe with me.” “I love you.” “You’re going to be okay.” All these things circulated Aemond’s mind instead of the normal, self deprecated thoughts that lead him to do drastic things.

He looked up at you, his eye softening as he caught you already staring at him. He breathed out slowly, his large palm stroking your sides absentmindedly.

“You keep me sane.” He whispered, staring into your eyes as he slowly trailed kisses up your naked body. “Sane…comforted…” He murmured, his eye fluttering closed at the feeling of your soft skin against his chapped lips. “Loved.” He finally breathed out, before resting his forehead against the side of your neck. He’d often do this, breathing words that seemingly didn’t make sense, but felt like small praises to you.

You smiled, looking down at your hands. You slowly laced your hands with his, admiring how they looked together-as if these two specific pairs of hands were always meant to melt into the hold of each other.

“I am glad I can be such a comfort to you, Aemond. Just as you are to me.” You breathed out, bringing his hand up and kissing his knuckles.

“Why?” He asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you feel comforted by me when I am so broken?”

You paused for a moment, thinking over your answer as you played with his long fingers.

“Broken things can be mended.”

“Sometimes I fear that I am too broken to be mended.” He sighed heavily, closing his eye and nuzzling his head against your neck.

“Perhaps it is the broken pieces that make you Aemond Targaryen. Perhaps it is the fact that you are so easily broken down that makes you the man that you are.” You replied.

“That man sounds weak.” He scoffed, his hands tightening slightly around your hand and waist. He always feared that he would lose you. He would never leave you, you were too precious to him. You were too much of a comfort to him to let go, which in truth, is why he thought that you’d leave him someday. He depended on you and your comfort so much that he feared at times, it could be suffocating.

But you didn’t mind. When you saw Aemond, you saw the broken boy of his youth, deprived of what he could have had; Love, affection, acceptance. You wished to give such things to him. You wished to make him want for nothing, as long as he had you.

“That man sounds vulnerable,” You corrected, pulling away from him slightly to stare down into his lilac eye. “Vulnerability is what carves connection, Aemond.” At your words he hummed, sighing heavily as he replied,

“Vulnerability kills people like me.” “Only if you are vulnerable to the wrong people.” She breathed out, remembering all the times he tried to be vulnerable with his mother, only to have her manipulate and abuse the vulnerability to try and get into her son’s mind.

“Everyone seems to be the wrong person.” He replied.

“Everyone? Even me?” You asked.

“No. Never you.” He answered.

___________________________________________

“You burned down Sharp Point?” You questioned, and the offense in your tone almost made Aemond flinch. Aemond clenched his jaw, holding his hands behind his back as he looked out over the terrace.

“It needed to be done.” “Why? To prove your worth? Solidify the fact that you will stop at nothing if it means to gain something?” You almost laughed at the notion, and Aemond’s anger got stronger. How dare you question him? The Prince Regent, the protector of the realm?

“I have my reasons.” He answered.

“Reasons you have yet to share with me-” “I needn’t share everything I do with you. You have no taste for political jargon such as this.” You scoffed as he spoke, staring up at him in disbelief.

“Political Jargon? Aemond you killed and harmed innocents.”

“The cost of war.” Your heart stopped. You didn’t expect him to be so callous, so heartless when it came to the very civilians that the crown deepened on. Suddenly, he continued, “I must go to Harrenhal.”

“Why?”

“To face my uncle.”

“And if you die?”

“At least it will be done in battle.” He spoke, you softened. Aemond would never admit it, but he did fear death, the great beyond that no one knew about nor wished to experience. You stepped forward, gently wrapping your hand around his. A gesture not of forgiveness-you thought that you could never forgive him, for being so cruel-but a gesture of comfort. Because even if Aemond was a cruel man, he was no monster, at least not in the depths of his heart. And even if he was, monster’s needed comfort too.

___________________________________________

The next morning Aemond would leave for Harrenhal. You watched as he readied his horse to ride to Vhagar. You studied him, looking for any signs of anxiety or uncertainty. But of course, you saw none. Aemond was good at the mask he wore, good at keeping it on but never good at taking it off.

You stepped forward, taking his hand in both of yours. He looked down at your hands for a moment, before he sighed and brought the hand up to his lips.

“I will return.” He murmured, kissing the soft skin of your knuckles. You smiled at the feeling, sighing softly as you spoke,

“I have no doubts that you won’t.” Aemond seemed pleased by this. He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours in a quick, hurried manner before pulling away. He studied you for a moment, not because he was afraid to forget your face in the eye of death, but because he needed a reminder of what he wished to come home to, of what was at stake.

___________________________________________

The news of Aemond’s death came to you quickly, and in the dead of night as you sat by the fire. A guard had come to you with the news.

Your husband has passed, princess. At the hands of Daemon Targaryen.

You felt your world crumble and your very being shaken. He had died, fighting like a true Targaryen. Yet the notion did not comfort you. It did not bring you solace to know that your husband had died like a Targaryen. You had longed for his arms, for his loving gaze and gentle caresses.

Grief did not even begin to describe how much pain you felt. You had lost your husband, your childhood friend, everything that you had based yourself around; your past, present, and your future, gone.

You screamed, as the servants gossiped, for days. You cried until your eyes bled, and you screamed until your throat felt as though it would throw itself up.

You blamed Alicent for making her son like this. You blamed Viserys for never being there. You blamed Daemon for landing the killing blow on your husband. But, you feared that above all you blamed yourself.

You could not have stopped the murder of your husband, nor his inevitable death, but the idea-the slightest notion-that you could have held him back for mere moments, or that you could have asked him to suspend the trip, genuinely anything to make him stay. Yet you didn’t, and the idea gnawed at you.

Not even a full moon after Aemond’s death you died of what only the Maester’s could describe as heartbreak. And in the afterlife he waited for you. And there was light in the darkness again.

___________________________________________

Not proud of this one guys 🫠

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simpee9000 · 3 months ago

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I love your “not just friends” series🥹 im obsessed! Im hoping to see more I love it soooooooooooo muchhhh!!!!!!! Even telling my friends to read it

But I saw a bakugo headcanon by another anon about him having a crush which I wanna add a spin on, what if he rejected this said crush back in middle school but developed feelings after xD I find it funny

Thank you !!! I'm glad you enjoy it so much!

And that is literally Katsuki Bakugo, can't see him not doing it tbh. (This was also a lot longer then I planned for it to be- I just started typing and here we are- 1k)

He isn't confused about a lot of things in life but his feelings definitely stump him. He tries to analyze other people and how they react to people, but the dots just don't connect. He hears people rave on and on about how cute their crush is, but he just doesn't get it.

It's not that he hasn't been introduced to it either. I mean, it's middle school. Everyone is crazy about dating someone even if it's just to hold their stupid hand. Bakugo didn't get it, he honestly didn't want to get it. Sure he wanted to understand it, but only so he could know a weakness or some shit. He didn't want the gushy feelings or anything such.

Rejecting girl after girl was normal for him, people just loved how great he was. But after the first year of middle school that stopped. Mainly because of how rudely he rejected every girl in the past, but also because of you.

You got extremely close with him rather quickly, working your way into his life and friend groups. It was rare to see you away from each other.

Yet when you confessed to him in your last year of middle school, he stood still. It was the only confession he hesitated on. And while you swayed on your feet, anxious for a reply, he tried to cough up any words possible.

But the only ones that came out were. "You're not special."

In the most blunt way possible, he crushed your dreams. With the way he was looking at you, it was like he couldn't fathom the thought that you thought you were good enough for him, different than all the other girls. So you choked up any spiteful things you wanted to say and nodded before walking off.

He didn't necessarily like you then, but the thought didn't seems gross. So when he watched you walk away, he shrugged it off. You'd talk to him tomorrow definitely.

When tomorrow came and went, he was waiting for you to show up by his side at any second. But of course, you never did. You waited a day before showing up to class, but when you did you stuck near your other friends.

It stayed that way too. You only nodded at him after you finished middle school, a small final goodbye.

So it was rather unfortunate that one of your friends happened to be Izuku. It was a hard-built friendship, but he's very forgiving.

You came and visited the dorms often, encouraged by his mother to help him get by easier.

Bakugo hated it, you never even looked his way.

When he googled his feelings he didn't want to believe the words typed on his screen. It was all saying he was jealous. He'd never been jealous of anything, especially nothing Deku had.

Eventually, Kirishima pointed it out, commenting on the glare he was giving Midoriya. He also called him out the next day, when he kept glaring despite you not being there.

The day he cracked was after he fought Deku, after being yelled out by Aizawa he and Deku were told to wait.

Bakugo mentioned your name in a mumble at first before Deku questioned it. "She like you or some shit?"

"What?!"

"You fuckin' heard me," he spat back.

"No!" Deku scrambled for a reason. He knew you had a crush on Bakugo before, but you haven't mentioned it in a while, "Do you?"

"Do I like you?!"

"NO! HER!"

Bakugo's aggression faded as he thought. Everyone was saying that. Kirishima, his dad, and now Deku. He gave a small shrug because he was unsure.

"She still asks about you," Deku decided to say, rather than poke the bear.

"Hm."

"Wanting to know if you're okay. After the sludge, and after.. well you know," Deku mumbled.

The door opened before anything else could be said, but even if it didn't, they both knew the conversation was over.

Feeling the commonly named butterflies in his stomach, at just the thought of you thinking of him still, was odd. It was an entirely new feeling. After googling, once again, he came to terms with the fact that he finally felt all the gushy feelings that everyone else got in middle school. The ones you used to have for him, hopefully still do.

He still waited a year to act on his conclusion first. But he still slowly tried to weave his way back into your life. Choosing to sit next to you when you visited, to othering you the remote.

Everything was without words for a while. Almost a year in he was forced to talk to you often. All conversations being awkward and strained.

Confessing was a different story, it was the last day you could visit before it was officially summer break before the second year. Everyone was all sat around watching TV, people leaving before they got too tired. Surprisingly, Bakugo and you were the last people in the living room. He didn't want to miss a second of your presence because he knew he couldn't see you during summer. He was so glad Aizawa let you stay late.

His head snapped away from the TV when you stretched to stand, silently grabbing your stuff.

"What are you doing?" he spoke before thinking.

You looked stunned, he never talked to you without you talking first, "It's late, I should go. Plus is it not past your bedtime?"

He glared at your joke before looking at the clock. It was 2:54a.m, you asked him out at 2:54 p.m in middle school.

"Do you still?"

"What?" you switched your weight onto one foot, crossing your arms confused.

"In middle school," he sighed, "do you still?"

"You're gonna have to be more specific."

"Have feelings and shit."

He still wasn't looking at you, but out of the corner of his eyes, he could see how you froze.

"I don't know how that's relevant," you huffed, embarrassed and annoyed that he'd be so cruel to bring up the rejection again.

"I do."

"Do what? Know how it's relevent? Of course you do, it's your brain-"

"Have feelings and shit," he mumbled, crossing his arms at how irated you sounded. He was finally making his move and you seemed pissed as hell.

You barked out a laugh, muffling it with your own hand, "You can't think I'm that stupid, right?"

"I'm being serious," he looked at you straight on for the first time. He was always easiest to read when you could see his eyes, and he looked nervous. Out of all the emotions you've seen on him, this wasn't one.

"Oh."

He sighed and looked down, "Don't gotta say anything, you can spend the night in the common room. No one will care," he pushed himself off the couch, turning to leave.

"Bakugo," you called out softly.

"Hm?"

"I might," your voice was shaky, "but I need to think about it. Know that you're not fucking with me or something."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. Take your time. You have my number."

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hazelfoureyes · 6 months ago

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A Doe in Fall (part 7)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Part 7 Recognition

It was time to start again. Alastor couldn't forget what his mother had wanted, even if she didn't ask it of him directly. And while he finds his comfort again in killing, Detective Brady finds a lead.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, reader's thighs as ear muffs, referencing cruel racists in the early 20th century south, reference to marital violence, pussy eaten, p in v sex, no creampie BOO, bad dancing, Alastor's southern accent, Alastor's mother, gossip, murder, greed , two idiots pretending they aren't madly in love, poor family planning, lots of 1920's slang with notes for your ease」

I think I fixed the broken tag list!

....it's been over a month. Here's nearly 9000 words of our favorite idiots. I feel weird labeling this smut now as...we are...kinda past the smut point and just making sweet sweet love. lol ugh gross. thank you to everyone whose offered help, donated, and shared the word about my mom! It’s been an immense help and has made her a little emotional (in a good way) <Florida stole my moms teeth— explanation and donation link> unrelated, anyone want some RadioDust?

Minors…. Minors. My inbox counts as interacting when you’re literally in there requesting smut. I know your bio has no age but baby honey darling I can tell by your writing. 🔞 Do Not Interact 🏠🚗

A development he knew was coming even if no one else believed him. A drug addict with debts to the local crime syndicates disappearing was neither suspicious nor a mystery. Everyone was confident it was obvious Tommy was at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain or halfway to California.

But not to him, not for Detective Brady. He had been on the beat for the better part of a year, convinced there was a connection between some of the disappearances in town.

No one wanted to hear it though, most people didn’t even care the people were missing. Only the occasional wife, concerned how she would keep a roof over her head and food in her kid’s bellies with the man of the house gone. But other than that, no tears or chest beating for the missing men and women.

Which made him confident there were countless more unreported cases. Just because no one missed them, a crime is a crime.

But, no bodies, no blood, no crime scenes… he looked like he had lost the fucking plot to his colleagues.

The city didn’t want the bad press, not to mention the fact there was no actual crime to be reported. Someone up and left down? Okay, he was a wife beater? Probably left with his mistress. The cruel den mother of the home for unwanted kids? Her assistant takes the lead and she moves onto a new town to menace. Probably running from the people angry with her.

But he finally had something. Tommy was pimping out dancers, and even laid hands on one. Surely there was a man looking for revenge for that. Can’t knock around a man’s woman and have it go unanswered.

So he tried again to find the woman whose only name he knew was a moniker. Autumn Hind.

Every time Brady came to the theater, another excuse. You left early. You were on the roof smoking—- oh, you slipped out the back. Weekends were your off days, so that was useless.

“You’re obsessed.” Detective Freeman threw an eraser he’d picked off his pencil at Brady. He had seen the man devolve slowly over the past couple months.

“Thanks.” Brady was staring at his notes.

“Not a compliment, Kenny. Shit happens, people leave town. You’re acting like a handful of no shows are some conspiracy.” Freeman came to stand behind Brady, leaning over to read his notes, “How can you even read that chicken scratch?”

He clapped the notebook shut, “Every report was a person less than liked. What are the chances they all leave town in the middle of the night, last seen in the same general area?”

Freeman patted his shoulder, “Did you just ask me why a bunch of assholes,” he stood up and made a show of stretching out tired muscles, “who liked illegal hooch* and jazz with plenty of enemies disappeared?” (*booze)

Brady slapped his desk, “There! You said it! They had enemies. But what— what if they had one enemy in common. A bar manager or — or a,” he was still looking for that link.

“Kenny, the boogeyman isn’t roaming New Orleans killing people. If the higher ups don’t care, if the families don’t care, it doesn’t matter. Let it go.”

The sleep deprived detective sunk into his wooden chair, swiveling side to side anxiously, “Tommy’s mother cares.”

“Yeah well mom’s are famously bad judges of character.” Slipping on his jacket, he shot a worried look to his partner, “Ya gonna go home? Janet’s probably a mess. You’ve been keeping late hours.”

“Nah not yet. I gotta get to the theater before this dame goes ghost on me again.”

“Yikes, still? You’ve been chasing her for a while.” He was making a slow inching walk to the door.

“It’d be easier if I had some support. I gotta do this on my own time.” A deep sigh, well past the point of hiding his frustration with his colleagues and bosses. Freeman looked over the wrinkled shirt and wilted tie, evidence of a man losing his grip.

“Welp, good luck buddy. Hope you get to the bottom of whatever this is.” He gestured at the messy desk and disheveled man, “See ya tomorrow.”

Brady waved without looking up. His eyes were staring into the black leather of his notepad. Tommy was the only recent assumed victim with any real suspicion. The woman whose husband disappeared after going to see a show? Only enemy to him was her, and she wasn’t strong enough to take him down. Deadend.

Most recent, nice young man from up north. Went out for a good time, hoping to catch a little lady for some stress relief, according to his coworkers. Never showed up at work the next day. No one had a bad word to say about the man. Making him an outlier, but still. He was young, strong, soft spoken. Not an enemy in sight but no family to worry, either. Deadend.

But Tommy. Someone cared he was gone. He was in the jazz game, the drug dens, the illegal drink business, and had a heavy hand. He was the perfect bad man, right?

He looked across his desk. Bad men. The occasional unsavory woman. Maybe it was just their time. They pissed off the wrong people.

Or the wrong person.

Someone who worked downtown, someone into dance and drink, someone with nights free to do his work. Maybe a hired gun? No, some of these people didn’t have the money for that.

Plus, one person and so many missing? That would be unheard of, it’d be some kind of record for Louisiana.

A record Brady could claim.

When he entered the theater James, the manager who replaced Tommy, noticeably rolled his eyes, getting in front of the man. “It’s real bad for business to have a cop in here all the damn time. Come on, if you’re not here for a raid then could you be a little less obvious.”

Brady looked past him, “What do you mean?”

“You’re— what is it? What can I do for you?”

“Here again for Miss Autumn. Care to give her real name yet?”

“No can do. Ain’t my business to tell. She’s finished her set, asked to head home early.” Brady turned and kicked a chair over, a large man approaching behind the manager before seeing the hip badge and backing up. “Nah we’re not doing that. We’ve told her you’ve come by but she’s a busy lady. Several gigs here and there. Enough, you’re harassing the dancers now.”

With a snap, Brady had his finger in the manager’s face, “Whatcha gonna do? Call the cops?”

“She. Isn’t. Here. What the fuck do you want? For me to tie her up and bring her to your station?”

That’d be ideal.

A month, nearly. Coming once or twice a week to try and speak to you but every time he missed you. He was going to snap if he heard one more time you were gone. Maybe everyone was in on it. Maybe you werenin the back right now laughing at him.

Brady scanned the room, “Where’s she live?”

“How the fuck would I know— please, leave.” James gestured to the doors.

He lifted his badge up, waving it at the patrons seated closest to him, “Yall know it’s still illegal to partake-,”

“Jesus! Enough!” The manager pushed him back, flashing an apologetic smile to the guests, “She moonlights Sundays at The Dime near the park on 5th, singing for a friend. That’s all I got about her life off stage. Will you fucking go?”

The detective perked up, “See, was that so hard?”

Finally, he could feel his fingers grasp the shifting shadow that was his only lead.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I never said sorry.”

You turned your head, not expecting him to say something serious. Waiting, he didn’t add explanation. Sorry? What had he done… ran out of milk? Forgot to bring in the towels before it rained last week? A quick search of your memory yielded nothing.

“For what?”

He was staring off in front of him. “For putting you in danger before. In the park. I am sincerely sorry.”

You’d somehow almost forgotten. It’d been weeks. Every bad feeling that night had brought you had been carried away by good morning kisses and gentle words before sleep. Nearly every night was spent in his bed, Alastor dropping you off at your apartment when he went downtown for work. The incident in the park was a different lifetime already.

Had he really put you in danger? Or had you rushed into the danger of his hobby to feel closer to him?

“I put myself in that situation. You didn't throw me at that guy. I don’t do a damn thing I don’t want to do. You should have learned that by now.”

Tough act for a woman who jumped up to pour some man’s coffee.

You shook your head, you had to stop equating doting on Alastor as a show of weakness. It wasn’t. Even if admitting that meant admitting you were wrong.

But he had put you in danger’s way, he knew it. “No, you wouldn’t have ever been in that situation if it wasn’t for me.”

Your laughter bounced off the car windows, “Alastor, you met me getting choked to death by a strange man. People will always make dangerous situations for women to be in. Don’t act like you’re special.” A sly smile to ease his anxious heart. “I’d rather be in danger for you than just because I’m a woman. If it’s gonna happen anyway, might as well be worth something.”

His hand slipped onto your thigh, expression softening before his own smile grew again, “Don’t lie to my face so easily. I am very special, we can all agree.”

You looked around, the two of you alone in his car on a side street, “All? You know the trunk is still empty, right?”

“Oh, is that so? You’re quite dangerous yourself, I nearly forgot why we were here.” He patted his pockets to make sure he had what he needed. “When I give you a wave, back up to me, okay? Don’t leave the car. Just drive off if-,”

You kissed his cheek, “Shut it. Not a chance. Go give em hell, baby.”

Alastor crumpled against his steering wheel momentarily, your words cutting his heart open in a most wonderful way. He could never have predicted getting kisses before beginning his dark work. What had he done to deserve this? Perhaps proof someone in hell was in full support of his actions. Straightening his back and checking his hair and glasses in the mirror, he flashed you a smile before slipping out of the car.

When Alastor said he was ready to begin killing again, you were a mix of excited and scared. Excited for normalcy to return but scared of the dangers presented there in. You’d been dodging the blue eyed detective for a while already, and moving forward meant possibly making mistakes he could grab a hold of. Not mentioning the risk of someone hurting Alastor again…but for your part in everything, you and Alastor found a compromise.

A deal had been made. You’d stay in the car and bring it to him when he was done. He had asked you flee if something went wrong but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Crawling into the driver’s seat, you tried to remember what he had taught you. How to get it started up, how to make it go backwards. How to make it go, in general. You’d never driven a car. Well, not until Alastor insisted on teaching you. Driving up and down the long stretch of road he lived on, Alastor white knuckling the door handle as you jerked the car forward with every failed shift. You had started on his land, but he feared for his home's safety with you behind the wheel.

Your hands slipped down the steeling wheel, big and round. Your mother would’ve had a hoot had she seen you in the driver’s seat. Clearing your throat, you leaned into the back of the car and double checked the canvas was properly secured.

Another man tonight. The few times you’d both gone out for leisure, having preferred to spend time alone at home, Alastor had gotten gossip that piqued his interest.

You remembered the way the woman’s hand touched his arm when she leaned in. “You didn’t hear it from me but it’s best to avoid French Study on Thursdays. Real piece of work slipping something in drinks and robbing people.” He reported what she had said back to you. It’d panicked you, realizing you were closer to being on Alastor’s list than you’d realized.

“No, the issue isn’t the stealin’. It’s what he does with the people with,” he had been delicate as he said it, taking another long sip of whiskey, “other things of value. And the fact this man has no need to steal. It’s ridiculous! His family has been land ownin’ and well off for generations.” Alastor was always impassioned when discussing the things he hated, even when slipping into drunkenness. His accent came through when he had too much to drink, his real accent. The accent his mother had. “You robbed men for power balance, for their assumptions you were easy to manipulate to begin with. He? Uh, Him? He’s just a piece of shit. He thinks he’s better than everyone else. And no one would report him ‘cause his family name.”

His drink spilled a little, when you had offered to clean it he just slipped the button up off. He lost his usual classy air as the bottle emptied. Which you actually liked.

The benefits of drinking on his back porch was no need to worry about decorum. Music was softly spilling from the open window behind you, Alastor’s prized record cabinet spinning the newest presses.

“It’s like there’s a little bug under my skin,” he wiggled his fingers over his sternum, “It’s gonna dig into my bones if I don’t cut it out.”

Despite your own drunkenness, you nodded and followed along, “So, ya gonna kill ‘em?”

Alastor pouted, making you snort, “I don’t want to think about that right now.” He enunciated every word clearly in his practiced and professional voice.

You’d ended the evening playfully arguing the merits of prohibition on the jazz scene and watching Alastor dance around the wrap around porch. But the conversation hadn’t ended for him.

Little hints he was still focused on it popped up over the following week. Alastor randomly asking you how it felt to be drugged, did you wake up in pain? Embarrassed? Scared? You caught him staring at the greenhouse from the window one morning, lost in thought. Before he had finally said he wanted to go out again, you understanding what that meant, you’d seen him turning a dinner knife over and over in his hand impatiently.

And now here you were. In the car beside a park late Thursday, Alastor having done some scouting while you’d finished up early at the theater.

It took hours. Which was good, it meant Alastor wasn’t rushing. He liked the stalking aspect of killing, of watching someone from across a room knowing exactly how their night would end. And as that man whose name would soon be buried with him alternated smiling and barking orders at staff, Alastor felt his stomach flutter. Like watching a slab of meat slowly turn over the fire. The crueler he was, the worse he acted, the more Alastor found his fingers tapping on the bar with anticipation. Perfect. Damn yourself more. No fake smiles or double faces, no, people like him didn’t even try to play the game others were forced into. Born with money and land already theirs, they didn’t even know the rules.

But Alastor did. Alastor mastered them at the tender age of 14. When he realized his father’s features were a shield. His mother’s lessons on manners and charm his weapons. The first time he was in mixed company, when someone leaned in and whispered a cruel “prank” he had planned for a young dark skinned woman on the other side of the room, he understood. They pulled back and smiled at him, and he managed to muster one of his own. Just smile, they’d take it to mean whatever they wanted it to mean because they thought he was of the same mindset. They assumed it. Like so many other things people would assume about him as he grew.

When he told his mother the story after getting home, she shook her head. When he had asked her what he should have done, she set down her book.

“Well, I’d love to say you should have stood up for her. But I’d also like to have my son above ground.”

He asked her why she couldn’t have both.

“Sweetheart, we don’t usually get the choice to do either, let alone both.”

He offered a solution, after a moment of thinking, “I shoulda buried him first then.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if that was how the world worked?” She returned to her book, “If God just struck em down dead as soon as they hurt people. Better yet, before.”

It would be nice. It was nice. Because Alastor couldn’t wait for God to make the world his mother mentioned. He grinned ear to ear, gloves a second skin, as the man crawled backwards in the grass like an animal cornered. His heart was pounding in his ears. Where to cut first? The gut, his family fat and soft from the money they made off the labor of others? The pale neck of a man who never spent a day outside, instead indoors drugging strangers for sport? The chest covered in a fine cotton shirt he didn’t appreciate?

He wished he had many arms, as many as he could imagine, to slash and tear in tandem.

“What do you want? Money?” the animal asked him.

Alastor shook his head no. No, he didn’t want money.

“Do you know who I am?”

Alastor nodded. “That is precisely why I am here.”

Would he beg? Cry? Bargain? Experience told him it’d be the latter.

“Alright well, if you know who I am you know you’re making a mistake. Here.” The man opened his wallet and pulled out a few greenbacks, holding them out for Alastor. Alastor’s smile softened slightly, remembering tossing you a wallet once before.

He reached down with his left hand to take the money, but instead grabbed the man’s wrist. Swiftly, quicker than the man could process, he took the knife tucked into his belt behind his vest and stabbed the man in the stomach.

Staring into his eyes, he could see his own image looking back at him. Smiling.

Alastor grabbed your face with both wrists, hands bloody and one still holding the knife, and kissed you when he’d flagged you down.

“Is this for bringing the car around without running you over?” Your eyes glanced at the knife beside your head. He apologized, tossing it into the trunk.

“No, just happy to see you.” A mischievous grin that made your knees weak, his body shimmied closer until he was pressed against you, stealing another kiss. His arms stretched out to keep from bloodying you. Your fingers slid up his cheeks to return the kiss. “Thank you, dear.”

When you returned home, to his home, that is, you took to task bringing in the laundry he’d left on the line and putting away the things still on the counters from breakfast. You couldn’t resist going to the second floor room and looking down into the greenhouse. You couldn’t see perfectly well, but you could see nonetheless. Alastor didn’t want you in the greenhouse yet when he was working. He said it was the ugliest parts, the kind that would sure give you nightmares or rob you of your appetite.

Considerate. But, it only made you more curious. Would you be sick if you saw? Would you never eat meat again?

What would you do if you didn’t have any reaction at all?

You watched Alastor leave the greenhouse and lock the door behind him, so you hopped down the stairs to meet him in the hall beside the kitchen.

He’d been sweating, shirt open to reveal a thin white undershirt, and under his arm was a canvas roll. He lifted it up, “Tools. Rinsed them off but I’d like to dry them under the electric lights.” You grabbed the aprons from the wall hooks, Alastor letting you slip it over his head and tie it for him. “Why so tight?”

“I like the way it makes your waist look.” You’d seen him wear it when making biscuits. It made his shape so clear. It reminded you of watching water drip down his sides and roll off his hips in the shower.

He beamed, “I’m listening. What exactly do you like about my waist?” Sharp brows raised as that friendly tongue peeked out at you.

“Hush.” You cooed.

You stood on the long side of the table, him at the short, and took turns wiping the tools dry and checking the other’s work.

As he grabbed each one he would tell you what he used it for. Holding up the garden shears and explaining the point along the blade that had the strongest force. The advantage of curved pruning blades when used on a human body. His eyes were gleaming as he spoke, looking so lovingly at each item like it was a loyal pet.

He finally noticed you were grinning and chuckling softly, so he dropped his smile for dramatic effect, “What? What’s so funny?”

Shaking your head, you set down the next item for him to inspect, “Nothing. You’re just so cute when you’re talking about your passions. Your face lights up from the inside out.”

His breath hitched, smile actually lost as he processed every syllable. Your turn now to notice him staring as you looked up from your work. You recognized that look though, the wide eyes and serious lips. The air of the kitchen felt like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm rolled in.

Alastor set the tools back onto the canvas one by one and carried them to the counter. Before returning he picked up a small knife and set it near the edge of the table.

“Come here.” He nodded his head to space in front of him. The way he said it, that tone, made your heart begin to skip beats.

You slid between him and the table, Alastor lifting you up with a startling ease and setting you onto cool wood. Kicking your legs a little, you set nervous hands onto your lap. You wanted to touch him. To pull him by the apron straps into you.

“How do you always say the right things?” He closed the distance between you, one hand on your neck while his mouth came to your ear. “The things I didn’t know I wanted to hear?”

Swimming. Your mind was swimming. “Why is your idea of right the same as my idea of the truth?” You could feel the grin. Sighing into your ear, down your neck, his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the table enough to press your core into his clothed erection. Even through his pants and the apron, you could feel him clearly. When did he get so hard? You always wondered in those moments if it was the topic of discussion. Or the knives. Or your need. Biting your lip wasn’t a thought out action, but Alastor loved to see it. Rolling his hips into you in response.

“Wanna go upstairs?” you asked.

He shook his head, slipping off his glasses.

“Oh no, don’t even wanna see me?” You teased, but firm hands held you tighter to him in response.

“I won’t be letting you get far enough away from me for that to be a problem.”

When he leaned down and his lips so very gently pressed into yours, you could feel it. That missing something from before. It was in the air, it was rolling off of his body and dampening your senses. A desire, a drive that you felt that first time you had sex with him in that apartment above the theater. A motivation that was lacking last time in his bed.

His eyes were staring down into yours, waiting for your response. Eagerly you replied by chasing his mouth with yours. A chain of kisses as you tried to ever remember enjoying kissing another person as much as him.

Not a single soul. Why did it feel like this was all you ever needed? Eyes closed and lips on lips, hands in his hair, it felt like you’d been holding your breath all of your life. His body on yours was a gasp of air.

For Alastor, he couldn’t even think of breathing when around you. Let alone when your mouth was on him. Every time you touched him all he could think about was the word ‘affection’.

So when your tongue swiped up his lips, he moaned as he opened for you. Not because he was new to kissing someone with so much lust. He’d grown accustomed to the things you did to him. No, because you were a fever that had taken hold of him and your kiss the medicine that soothed his delirium.

He wondered, was that why people called it ‘love sick’?

“You really like me, don’t you?” He asked, nose sliding up your jaw.

An opportunity presented to you. A chance to spill over the edges.

You pushed it away, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Something like that, yeah.”

His hands pressed flat against the table to balance the deep roll of his hips against you. One of your own fell behind you to keep from falling backwards, the other flung over his shoulder. When you moaned into his cheek he captured the sound with his mouth and slipped his tongue back into you.

You liked him. He’d known people to love and not like their partner an ounce, but the way you appreciated his quirks made his heart sing in its brittle cage. You never ceased to see him. The issue with always putting on a show is people tend to be disappointed when the actors become human again. But you never met his persona. He was knife wielding, bloodlusting Alastor from the first word. So when he was himself, you recognized him clearly. Because he was all you ever knew.

And you liked him

You appreciated him.

He dared to think maybe he could inspire more from you. A thought that made him twitch below the belt.

Closer. He needed you closer. He needed you so near to him that he’d never forget the feeling of being wanted. It’d be imprinted on his chest and his arms and his lips.

Impatient hands slipping up your sides, along your neck, down your chest. His greedy mouth suddenly understanding the same greed he once marveled at in your own kisses. Hot tongue sliding over yours, delving deeper into you with every return.

When his hands seemed to come to an agreement, they yanked you forward again. You’d fall off ass-first if he pulled you any further.

You watched with only slight horror has he grabbed the small knife and hiked up your dress in tandem. A gulp, worried the other shoe had finally dropped on a too-good situation.

“Are you particularly attached to these panties?” His eyes were looking up and over his glasses.

“No?” Did you really need panties, you wondered. Ever? Girdles we’re falling out of fashion perhaps you’d all be naked again soon enough. Maybe you two could start another Eden. A pomegranate’s juice the new red staining his skin.

Not even a tremble, his hands lifted each side and sliced them free.

“Oh?” You didn’t have a real question in mind when he tucked the panties into his back pocket. Just a need to express you saw it and didn’t understand it.

Alastor took your hand and pressed it against his hardened length, eyes locked onto yours with a sharpness to them. But when your hand took hold of him and squeezed, everything softened in his features. Funny how where one area grew stiff another melted.

He rolled his eyes closed as you finally undid his belt and pants. A struggle you didn’t see, Alastor trying to keep from pouncing on you like a horny virgin. He didn’t want to rut into you, he didn’t need the pleasure. He needed something he couldn’t see or explain. He just knew you held it behind your teeth.

When your skin pressed into his and you both moaned together he was sure you were the same. One person, split into insufficient parts. Finally lined up flush in place.

When you circled your hips against his aching cock, he wondered what you were chasing after. Was it the pleasure? He’d give it to you in spades.

He was on his knees with his face between your legs before you could close your thighs in surprise.

You needed both hands now to keep from falling back onto the table. “Alastor,” a whine.

He knew better than to talk with his mouth full, so he let two fingers work their way into you with shallow thrusts. Easing you open for him.

“Yes?” His eyes didn’t leave his fingers, glistening under the kitchen light. You hadn't thought much ahead past his name, once his fingers were in you and curling up to find your spongy and soft bundle of nerves your mind had gone empty.

“We can just fuck, if you’re horny.” You watched him watching himself.

“Where’s the fun in that?” His mouth returned to your mound, broad tongue forming a point and finding your clit.

A lazy moving tongue would be frustrating if not for his fingers punishing your g-spot. Consistency was key, and his hand was focused and skilled.

Suddenly you remembered the piano in the sitting room. That’s where you knew that movement from. That clearly practiced muscle memory.

Alastor felt confident everywhere but rarely did he feel comfortable. When your thighs came together and squeezed him at the ears, he felt positively cozy. Would you be so kind as to be his ear muffs come winter? He’d have to remember to ask when his mouth was free. How many cold nights he could now rest assured he would have warmth just a little dive of his head away.

Lowering his mouth, nose buried in your muff, he wriggled his tongue in with his fingers. Not enough, rarely was anything enough any more. He stilled his hand and prodded at your sensitive walls with that intrusive tongue, relishing the little movements you made in response. Taking his digits out entirely, he buried his wet muscle as deeply as he could reach.

The huffs of exhales you were making triggered a moan from him that you felt through your skin. His enjoyment was tripling your pleasure.

Goosebumps ran up your arms at the combine sensations of his moaning and prodding.

When his lips and tongue returned to their uneven teasing of your clit, three fingers now swiping past your inner spot with every thrust, your hands came to his head. Fingers slipping through his hair and gripping every time your body shook. Encouragement, the more you tugged the surer he was he was doing the right things.

And oh, he was. You said the right things but Alastor always seemed to act on them. Your senses lodged themselves between the even stroking of your g-spot and the unpredictable movements of his tongue. One kept the pressure rising as your orgasm climbed, the other pushed you along jolt by jolt.

Curious thing. That night in the park he didn’t have much reaction to your enjoyment, but he found himself not fully softening in his lap as he continued. Normally, unless still physically stimulated or the rare time you stirred something in him, he wasn’t very… battle ready.

But the feeling of you pulling him in by the head, fingers in his hair and thighs at his cheeks; this was different than the others. He was sure now it wasn’t just physical pleasure you wanted. His pride said it was more.

Dozens of times before— he truly was a rake in some aspects, though admittedly it was all in the pursuit of avoiding “sex”, as defined by most, not chasing it — he helped a date find release with his tongue. But it never did anything for him. They moaned and said his name and screamed. Which was lovely. Who doesn’t enjoy recognition?

When you said his name, it was heavier. It was material, it had mass and as its gravity began its pull he found his mind circling that sound. He was pleasing his darling, not placating. And it made him react in that unusually crass way.

He felt like an apex predator when killing, tearing open animals made for him to hunt. But you made him feel baser. Prey in your gentle bite.

As your orgasm mounted, you began tugging at his hair to pull him off. You didn’t need him to stop, but everything was suddenly too sensitive. It was alarming to feel your body rocking from overstimulation. A strident cry filled the kitchen as your back arched off the table. He didn’t let up, despite how much you thrashed under his mouth. Rolling pleasure, muscles electrified and shaking beyond your control.

You patted his head harshly, “Good, I’m good. Alas—tor! Fuck!”

Ah, he loved when you swore. It punctuated your otherwise preternatural aura with a touch of humanity.

He stood and leaned over your now reclining body. Your pussy still clenching and legs shaking as he admired his work. You admired his shape in his apron, his broad shoulders and sharp eyes. Caught between your legs like a lion in a mouse trap; he acted like he had no way free of you. His grin widened and he made a display out of licking each finger clean. Eyes never leaving yours.

You knew many men to squawk at going down on a woman. To balk at wearing an apron. To grimace at the suggestion of cooking a meal while their lady took a nice bath or enjoyed a coffee. Alastor seemed to not think twice about any of it. How nice it would be. To have a partner beside you, to not be the woman in the often referenced “behind every great man is a great woman.”

“Alastor, I want you.” You pulled him down by the neck and stole a kiss. When he began to stroke himself fully back to life you pressed that hand to his chest. “Not like that. Though I’m not declining the offer.”

His eyes saw something in yours. “Sweetheart, you have me. There is no part of me that isn’t possessed by you. I know we keep things relatively… tightlipped for safety but I’m your fella and you’re my gal.” His nose touched yours. “But if you want more, I’ll become more. I’ll break myself apart and make myself better.”

Your heart sank. Sitting up to command a little authority, a feat given you were sitting panty-less on a kitchen table, “Don’t you dare. I’ll always meet you where you are, got it? Don’t go… groping around in the darkness for me; trying to find what I need. I’ll always come to you. Because you’re more than enough as you are.”

A little cough to clear his tightening throat, “I’ve not had a day of darkness since you arrived.” A kiss to your forehead before a soft thumbpad wiped at the corner of your eye. “Did I make you sad?”

You wanted to say it. But not now, not like this. You didn’t want Alastor to connect love and sex. To think one was necessary for the other.

While you were coming to learn how lovely it was to pair the two together, it was a fact they were wholly independent things. And you couldn’t allow him to think they were a set.

“You’ve made me too happy. It’s absolutely terrifying.”

But Alastor had found your expressions of acceptance always tumbled the circle of Love to overlap with that of Sex. It was only in that mixed space did he find desire in pleasure.

A wicked smirk, “Let me pile on my affections and drown out your fears.” His hips rolled into you again, a surprising eagerness returned to his lap. “Can I continue?”

With a nod and a smile, “But not another word of change, buster.” You leaned back on your hand for support. Alastor was happy to return to your heat, lining up and sinking into you. An embrace like no other, one he found particularly earnest when with you.

Close. Finally. You began where he ended, a natural extension of who he was and who he could be. The things he could have. A relieved sigh he didn’t try to hide before he began moving, a moment when his tension could melt. You were both an unseasonably warm autumn day and the cool comforting shade of an unfamiliar tree. Both the heat and the relief.

He watched your body rock against the table, even fully dressed you managed to look more scandalous than any show he’d seen downtown. He was grateful he didn’t seek this comfort often in others, the way his mind melted made him feel vulnerable. He couldn’t think straight. And then you began to make those lovely little groans, high pitched and needy, and he was sure his soul was errant.

As his thrusts deepened, cock no longer kissing your cervix but ramming into you with good intentions, you dropped back as you lost the battle against his hips.

Alastor’s arms slid up our waist and pulled your arms towards him, “Too far, I can’t see your face.”

Your arms were slung over his shoulders as your back curved for him, “You don’t need to see my face.”

“Tsk, wrong.”

Your new favorite place was right in front of him, wherever his line of sight was you wanted to be in it. Nose to nose, heads tilting to recapture soft lips and softer moans.

Until the softness left, Alastor’s skin slapping against yours as he dragged those lovely sounds from you. He watched your eyes roll closed, mouth open as you moaned with the safety of the seclusion of a country home. A thought bubbled up, inspired by you.

“I want the neighbors to hear you.” That smile half cocked across his upsettingly handsome face. His hand slipped between you both to repeat the motions he learned before. Hard and fast, no choice but to raise your voice.

Your head fell back, clit still sensitive, “You don’t have neighbors!” A new moan hitting the walls.

“I do— just a few miles down the road, dear.” His mouth latched onto your neck but he didn’t suck like he wanted, he couldn’t bite. Your skin was your job, your body not his to mark. Suddenly he remembered, “Do you still have that make up? For your bruises?”

You couldn’t understand why he would bring that up while balls deep in you but you nodded.

“Would it work on your neck?” He nipped lightly.

It clicked, “Absolutely.”

You felt like a teenager again. When his tongue swiped over your soft flesh before he began to suck on the skin there you could feel the heat rising off your chest. You could feel him everywhere, and with the knowledge he wanted to hear you, you tossed your shame out of the kitchen window and relaxed into the pleasure.

As he moved up your neck he left little marks behind. There was no sense left you didn’t occupy. He could smell the soap and sweat of your skin, taste your cunt still on his tongue, your sights and sounds a decadence he couldn’t get used to. And the feeling of you… velvety walls, a feeling finer than silk as he slipped in and out of you. So incredibly hot on his most sensitive areas, pulling him back in with admirable strength.

He felt his orgasm ratcheting up but tried to hold back. He wanted more time to experience your ecstasy, to wallow in your openness. Even pressed skin to skin now wouldn’t satisfy that deep desire for this unique level of intimacy. So he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he had it.

But, he knew he should prepare. “I don’t want to dirty your dress.” A lust heavy voice penetrating the nap of your neck. He’d made a risky release before at your urging, something he often thought about when work got quiet. But he knew he needed to think clearer now.

“Then don’t.” A terrible reply but you wanted all of him, every drop of his hunger for you. “Keep the mess in me.”

“My dear,” he slowed his hips, autopilot keeping them moving at all, “I don’t think now is the time for,” you tightened around him to trip him up, which worked spectacularly. Alastor had take several seconds before continuing, “talks on family planning.”

A pang of nausea and fear, small and sharp in your abdomen. It wasn’t that you weren’t aware of biology, just that Alastor brought out your baser animal instincts, too. And before, when he came buried as deeply as he could reach, it felt like you’d actually completed some ritual. Bears hibernated, birds migrated, Alastor came in you.

You’d never let a man do that before Alastor. “I just want to… accept everything you are willing to give me.”

He bit his bottom lip to redirect some attention away from his now throbbing member, “And when you’re sure on me, I’ll always provide.”

A pout that he kissed, you accepted the terms. An argument could be made you were already very sure, but you were well aware how naive that sounded when you’d known each other for so little time. Had a coworker told you she’d met a guy and within three months was ready for… the consequences, you’d have laughed and asked if she was drunk or just stupid.

Alastor wanted to provide. But he knew you’d be the one with the raw end of the deal, he couldn’t risk coercing a decision in the heat of the moment. If your mind was half was addled as his with pleasure then you were in no state for big decisions.

Life changing decisions.

Decisions that filled empty homes.

Fuck, why wasn’t he a less considerate man?

When his kiss deepened, so did his ministrations. He was fully sheathed and so unwilling to draw back more than a couple inches you wondered if he had changed his mind. It felt like a man not wanting to stray too far from home. One hand on the small of your back, his other other on the back of your neck. When he pulled out he pressed his tongue further, only stopping the kiss when he came onto the little space of table between your thighs. Soft and swollen lips parted as his breaths ran ragged. A smile spread across your face as you watched his eyes open, witnessing a pleasured blow out of his pupils.

When he grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned the table, you chuckled at his grimace. “See? My way is cleaner.”

He didn’t reply at first, taking the cloth and hovering over the sink before tossing it into his trash. “Only in the short term. We can finish up tomorrow with the tools?”

Your legs kicked again, not ready to slide off, “Mm, it’ll be easier in the daylight.”

“Instead,” he zipped his pants but removed the belt and set it on the counter, “Let’s get zozzled* and sway around the sitting room? Crash where we land.” (*drunk)

“I’ll pour if you get the music on.”

He turned to leave but paused, “No, I’ll handle the drinks. You always have too heavy of a hand.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last time…”

“I’m not sure I remembered I was at home and not at a drum* last time…,” He uncorked the label-less whiskey, grabbing two glasses with one hand. “Didn’t wanna insult the pretty waitress.” (*speakeasy)

Fair. You weren’t much for drinking and always underestimated the strength of illegal hooch. Some were weak and some could kill you. But fancy Alastor had connections with the kind of people no one dared to risk harm to, so he always had the most trustworthy goods.

Good music, great whiskey, and even better company. You thanked him for being safe while working, he praised your ability to learn new skills so quickly. After a few drinks he pushed the coffee table against the wall and you drunkenly swayed around the room to something playing smooth and low. As much as you enjoyed your conversations, having your head tucked under his chin as neither of you said a word somehow filled in the little cracks of your heart more so than any talk. For him too. No tension after sex, no stress of how long he’d get to breathe before the next instance of prodding to do it again. He could smile and close his eyes and feel the room swing and sway in total safety.

A safety neither of you knew was being threatened from afar.

When you woke, Alastor was gone. A note on the table letting you know he’d run out to grab some things for breakfast. Telling you to relax and recover.

You put the furniture back, bringing the glasses to the kitchen and his belt to the bedroom.

Coffee and a slow perusal of his home. Intimate details you tried to not stare at when he was there. The rare photo of his mother, a woman you didn’t speak about, a conversation you didn’t need to have, but someone you knew existed fondly still in his life. A silent thank you to her.

No photos of a man to give thanks to you so you turned to the little curios and mementos.

Little seashells and sand dollars, a small gator’s skull. Books, about anatomy and history. Novels about crime and love and mystery. Ticket stubs for films he’d seen. Little bits of his mother scattered in. A woman’s necklace. A chatelaine* with all of the accessories and tools. (*wikipedia page)

When you felt you’d spied enough, you crawled into his side of the bed and inhaled as deeply as you could. His pillow smelled like him. You let yourself sleep off the hangover surrounded by pieces of Alastor.

Pieces you couldn’t contain. Pieces left around town as a dick* hunted for his personal monster. (*a detective, but also, a dick, fuck this dude?)

Beth, or Betty as you called her, the friend you often sang for, was cleaning up from the previous night when Brady walked in. She tried to tell him they were closed, but he took a seat at the counter anyway.

“I’m looking for a singer named Autumn. She been around lately?”

She paused, knowing the name was tied to your work. This man didn’t know you. “Whose asking?”

“The city of New Orleans”, he set his badge on the counter top.

“Is she in some kinda trouble?”

“She the kinda dame to get into trouble?”

Beth laughed, “She doesn’t try to but men, liquor, and jazz tend to make it happen. She’s okay, right?”

He took a deep sigh, trying to blink away the exhaustion and remember he needed to be someone strangers trusted. Being honest hadn’t been working and being rough barely got him a lead. “Well I was hoping you’d know. Found out someone roughed her up a bit ago and just wanting to make sure she’s okay. But I don’t have her legal name, no address, nothing to track her down.”

Shaking her head, she leaned onto the counter, “What? Some egg* forget it’s just a show?” Brady shrugged. “I can’t say. She hasn’t been by in a couple weeks.” (*man)

He asked why. Feeling the deadend approaching.

“She was just doing me a favor. Once she got a guy she didn’t have much time.”

Fighting the urge to slam his fists against the wood and sling his notebook across the bar, Brady took slow breaths. Jaw clenched as he grabbed his pencil, “That is wonderful news. Hopefully a fit guy who can… keep her safe.”

Beth laughed a little, “I don’t know about that. He’s kind of a daisy*, but real kind.” (*a non-masculine man)

“Could I get a name? Or her address? Wanna follow up. See for myself that she’s doing well.”

She tapped the bar with two fingers and winked, “Ah no can do. Flatfoot* or not, I don’t tell men where to find sleeping ladies. But her fella is in radio though. I recognized his voice right away. Popular too, really ritzy air about him.” (*cop, detective)

As he left, he slapped the notebook against his palm over and over. When he stopped to take a second to congratulate himself something caught his eye. Across the street was a park he knew well. Following the block and turning, he could see the white and green awning of the cafe he’d seen you at before.

Had he been there? He hadn’t questioned why you were alone on such a nice day. But maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d been playing him from the start.

Enough games.

When you took the stage that evening, a Friday show with a promising crowd, you felt like solid gold. Alastor would be there to pick you up in a few hours, you had every need met. And now you had the adoration of strangers to pump up your chest.

Until you passed your come-hither eyes over the crowd and a striking ocean blue pair knocked the wind out of you.

James was standing behind Brady, mouthing an apology. You missed a beat in your routine but forced your smile back. It took a second, to slide back into the actress you were when away from Alastor. Every time it got harder and harder to fall back into that role but you managed. His eyes never left your face, and you thanked God your heaving chest could be seen as fatigue and not the sheer panic that had taken ahold of your body.

When you were on the other side of the curtain you considered rushing out the side door, into the alley and down the street. But you couldn’t. You’d successfully brushed him off for so long but now that he had seen you, had made it clear he was there for you, you couldn’t flee. Innocent people don’t hide from cops.

Feet dragging, you saw some of the dancers standing around the dressing room door. “He’s out of his gourd if he thinks I’m changing with him in there.” One said loud enough to ensure Brady heard. When you entered the room he was sitting at your make up table, legs spread and your shoes in his hands.

“There she is!” standing, he extended the shoes to you, “Don’t stare like a deer in the lights. I’m sure you knew I was coming. Slip these on, we’re going for a ride.” He gave them a shake, “You can call your mac* from the station and let him know you’ll be late.” (*man)

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel l , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

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#human alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel x you

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lokilysolbitch · 2 months ago

Text

wait okay so. if you stop viewing adhd as a focus issue and frame it as a internal dopamine functions aren't working issue. and if you need dopamine to do things. then. instead of thinking how can i make myself focus. you can just think how do i get external dopamine sources to make my brain machine go.

im not focusing because im not getting my internal reward im biologically supposed to get. that's why im unmotivated. i brush my teeth and i get no internal sense of satisfaction. so now i don't want to brush my teeth. if i'm not getting an internal sense of satisfaction for doing things then most tasks feel worthless. which can look like or turn into depression.

but then i find one source or one task with a bunch of dopamine like a certain fidget or hobby (recently it's been diamond painting for me) and suddenly im fine again because my brain is no longer starving. suddenly i can focus on my lectures playing in the background when im getting little hits of external dopamine from putting diamonds in the right spot. im getting the sense of satisfaction that everyone else was already getting.

or like. one day im trying to read a textbook and the words are just. not getting into my brain. so i give up and play genshin for a bit. i get dopamine in my brain. i turn back to the textbook. and suddenly. i can read again. i read for a few minutes and i'm not comprehending it anymore. i play genshin for a few minutes and then turn back to the textbook. and then i can read again. again.

people have already been saying this but it really clicked yesterday when i was trying to read a textbook for a class i love bc it's connected to a special interest but i didn't like the current chapter topic. so i wasn't getting any dopamine from the content. and of course i wasn't getting any dopamine from the act of completing the task of reading. and i was trying to think of ways i needed to multitask to focus. but i noticed i kept switching from tiktok to reading which helped. like id watch some tiktoks and there would be like a mental feeling of "okay we're at 100%" and is just toss my phone and start reading. like i didn't have to tear myself away from it.

i was literally feeding my brain. and just stopped once i got full. like putting gas in the car.

that's why i only use things if they have pretty colors or some sort of pleasing sensory input. that's where my dopamines coming from. that's why a sticker chart and playing music while brushing my teeth helped so much. to give me the sense of satisfaction i wasn't getting from my own brain.

that's why giving myself the rewards at the end of tasks didn't always work. you can't reward a car with gas if the tank is empty. i needed the dopamine to start the tasks, and more dopamine intermittently to continue longer tasks.

anyways. i'm gonna stop holding off from doing fun shit until after i finish tasks. bc in hindsight i always did better work when i put the fun stuff first. and i'm gonna stop wasting time waiting for my brain car to go when the tank was empty the whole time.

i left mid post for a little bit and came back and i didn't proofread this and it's also unfinished but i'm posting it now bc. i have DID i don't member exactly what i was tryna say. and personally i'm not reading all that.

TLDR: stop treating adhd like it's mainly a focus issue. treat it like dopamine is an external resource and it acts as gas for your brain car. how can i focus better❌ what satisfying thing can i do to help my brain initiate/focus on this task✅

#adhd #handmadeorganicpost #actually adhd

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love-belle · 1 year ago

Text

yeah my boyfriend's pretty cool !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they're living the childhood best friends to lovers trope.

for when you just can't help falling in love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - just had the most amazing idea for a daniel social media au omg!!! anyways i hope u like this i love you thank you for reading <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and 896,525 others

yourusername they say home is where the heart is

7,826 comments

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lilymhe chuckles knowingly

*liked by yourusername*

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charles_leclerc no surprise he had to cook considering you can't even make cereal

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, yourusername and 936,685 others

charles_leclerc eyes like sinking ships on waters so inviting i almost jump in

8,627 comments

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*liked by charles_leclerc*

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yourusername charles is a swiftie confirmed ⁉️⁉️⁉️

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carlossainz55 she has changed you

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-> pierregasly i don't

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by f1wags_, chxrleslxclxrc, hearts4y/n and 78,637 others

paddock.news charles leclerc and y/n gasly spark dating rumors after "soft launching" simultaneously on various social media platforms. rumors have always surrounded the pair through the years, but this time we believe that they're not just rumors. they have also been spotted out on "dates" as y/n has been attending various grand prix to support her brothers and friend and now apparently, boyfriend. they've also been posting each other on their instagram stories a lot lately. neither of the parties have made a comment about this, though we are rooting for them. for more details, click on the link in our bio.

5,267 comments

username NAH THEY'RE DEFINITELY DATING

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, carmenmmundt and 892,915 others

charles_leclerc no i don't like the tshirt

tagged yourusername

8,156 comments

username SHUT UP

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yourusername but u like the one who's wearing it

-> charles_leclerc eh debatable

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-> yourusername real lewis got nothing on me

*liked by charles_leclerc and lewishamilton*

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pierregasly someone let me out

-> charles_leclerc will you chase me with a fork again?

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and 916,628 others

yourusername yeah my boyfriend's pretty cool but he's not as cool as me argue in the comments

tagged charles_leclerc

comments are disabled for this post

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dreadful-windandrain · 8 months ago

Text

listened to the real will wood album three times yesterday. here are my thoughts:

am i being detaIIIIIIIIINED? am i under arrest?? (yes!)

"this is a song written by a dead guy" the implications..........

unsyncopate cotard's solution right this fucking second

the transition into dr sunshine lives is SO GOOD

was it when i left the cave and swore i'd. NEVER GO BACK!!!!!!!

how did he make white knuckle jerk hornier. what's with the moans. and why do i like it better than the original.

HEART BLUER THAN MY b-b-b-b-bbbbbaaaaa~a~LLLLLS!

the weird voices he uses in thermodynamic lawyer sure were a choice

fucking ADORE front street live. even better than the original and my favorite off of this album. literally just. the tempo changes. "if you're not on your worst behavior... get the fuck out!" "is this shit enough proof for you?" "give us all that fucking osmosis! oh, yeah!!" "sing it with me you fuckers!". he made a villian song sound even more evil. wtf and well done

i trusted you i trusted you i trusted you i trusted you i tru

the long ass intro for hand me my [x], i'm [y]! is fabulous. the anticipation!!!

the tempo is also faster here than the original which is awesome but overstimulating as hell when the second half of the bridge hits

take it away, creeps

here's a song *first chord of 2012*

by retracing myyyyyyyyyyyyyyy ste-epppppppppp pssssssssss

the guitar riff that starts mr capgras makes my brain perk up like a bluetooth speaker being connected

FUCKING HURT EACH OTHER! COME ON!!!!

yet another banger intro! the latter half of this album does not miss!

can we drop this shit? i wanna see you at each other's throats, man, make some fucking noise. one two three oh YEAAAAAAAH

the transition here also. magical.

i definitely didn't almost cry at the end of fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva when the tempo slowed down and everyone was vocalizing

-ish is so fucking underrated oh my GOD you people don't talk about it enough

the people who sang "myself again" after "and i'm gonna be"...... read the room

the new harmonies on where do you get off, front street, and mr capgras give me life

overall i love it but i do believe that ww didn't sing the song with five names to spite me personally. he did sing it on in case i die but still. you don't know how much tax fraud i would commit to hear it live with a full band

#will wood #will wood and the tapeworms #wwattw #the real will wood #wii woo #wee woo #ren's rambles

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hannieween · 1 year ago

Text

opening night | backstage series | l.sm

“Just play along,” he said softly, his lips curving into a playful smile as he leaned his head to kiss you deeply in front of everyone who, until that night, thought you were heartbroken for someone else.

♡︎ pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader ♡︎ genre: smut. 18+ mdni you'll get blocked ♡︎ word count: 9.3k ♡︎ aus: theatre performer!seokmin, fake dating with benefits

₊🎧: love me a little – shownu x hyungwon

₊ nsfw tags under the cut

♡︎ a/n: i am only posting this for fun, but do let me know if you like it pls pls pls. thought of this idea while doing the dishes, quite literally.

♡︎ warnings: swearing, alcohol use, minor mentions of drugs, pet names: baby, noodle (hers), smut with plot, soft dom seokmin, big dick seokmin, seokmin is kind of a simp, teasing, making out, sexual tension, unprotected sex, couch sex, creampie, hand kink, fingering (f), oral sex (f), reader is quite dramatic, might contain some minor spelling or grammar mistakes and for that i'm sorry.

part 1

Nothing could compare to opening night jitters. There were some shows in which you didn't feel this nervous, small shows, small audiences or those times you had to act in front of other colleagues. It always made you jittery in some way. Tonight, the feeling of not being able to breathe was worse.

It was as if a bubble of air got trapped in your chest, and no matter how much you breathed in and out, nothing could get rid of it.

And not to mention the inescapable tunnel vision. It was something you suspected that it only happened to you, though. You could not focus on anything at all. Food? Not hungry. Thirsty? Maybe. But those were things that you could tend to once the first show is over.

"Shit. I think I forgot my lines," you blurt out with a shaky sigh.

The script was lying on the single chair propped in front of the vanity mirror. But the dressing room was so crowded with people getting ready that you just didn't see the chance of reading out some of it again.

"You know," someone started behind you, "for someone who has been doing this for years, you certainly can't control your pre-show emotions."

You didn't have to turn to know whose voice it was. "Sorry," you reply shortly. "I haven't done this in a short while."

"Well, put yourself together. We begin in five." Minghao told you. He was just finishing dressing the supporting cast, so he gave you a look.

"What?" you say, and look down at what you were wearing, thinking that somehow you had managed to ruin your dress that he carefully confected for your role.

Minghao grabbed you by the shoulders, a soft smile began to show on his lips and he said. "You're going to do alright. Just breathe, and show them what you're worth. It'll be over in two hours."

And with that, you released a long sigh. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he nodded, patting you on the head. "Is that Soonyoung's vest?" He said suddenly, snatching the vest from a chair and exiting your dressing room. "Soonyoung, come here you little rascal!"

It has been about five months since you stepped on a stage. So, there were a few things you need to get a hold on before the show begun. You used to have a pre-show ritual, which consisted in getting into character as much as possible.

However, things changed when you had to take a break after you and your ex called it quits. Now, you don't feel as connected to that ritual anymore. Besides, you haven't had a lead role in a play since your final year at uni.

It usually got really quiet backstage when the show was about to start. Everyone was aware that voices carry all the way to the audience, so movements were quiet, and noises kept at minimal. You closed your eyes for a moment before going to the stage and play your part.

Opening nights were always a challenge. Despite rigorous rehearsals, you were faced with doubt, often believing you could spot the smallest flaws and exaggerating them to fix them.

But this opening night was sort of different. You felt at ease. Exhilarated, even. Once the play was over and you finished bowing to the audience, you went back to the dressing rooms to get rid of your dress and make up.

You changed into something more comfortable. And as you were cleaning your face, you listened to the other girls in the dressing room gush about the people they saw at the seats. Apparently some more renowned actors had come to see the play, as well as some journalists.

That made you think that you didn't invite someone to come see you. You did your part to promote the play in social media, but nothing more.

However, you did see some familiar faces as you made your way out of the dressing room. Seokmin and Seungkwan were bantering loudly about something unbeknownst to you, their voices and laughter were so sounding that you were quick to locate them.

Seungkwan had Seokmin on a playful chokehold when they both saw you. Before you could ask, Seungkwan snapped his head at you. "We're settling a matter like men. Be there with you in a sec," at the same time that Seokmin blurted through his teeth: "Help."

"Ah, they're at it again," you turned to see Soonyoung who was throwing a backpack over his shoulder. "Seokmin has been teasing Kwannie a lot these days."

"What else is new?" you hummed.

You two watched for a brief moment, only to Soonyoung turn to you and chirp. "Anyway, want to leave these two behind and go buy some booze? 'S on me."

You watched his cheeks grow fuller as he pursed his lips. He had one thumb raised, pointing towards the exit.

"That sounds great," you say, grabbing him by the arm.

You turned to the exit, leaving your two other friends fight over yet another stupid thing.

The cold air of autumn hit your face as soon as Soonyoung pushed the door open.

"So," Soonyoung begun and suddenly you knew what was coming, "how you've been?"

The question was simple. But you knew what he meant.

"I've been doing okay, Hoshi," you replied shortly. "You don't need to worry about me."

He hummed. "You can talk to me anytime. You know that, right?"

You two arrived at the liquor store. It was friday night, so there was a couple of people buying alcohol for the night.

"You have done enough for me," you gave him a reassuring smile. "Letting me crash in your apartment for months until I found something for my own is something I will always be grateful for."

He sighed. "You don't have to do that. And you don't owe me anything, you dumbass."

"Do what?" you objected.

"You're avoiding it," he shrugged. "But hey, you don't wanna talk about it, fine. I'll wait."

You smiled and slapped the front of his cap down. "Come on, Soonyoung. Don't get all sappy on me. This is supposed to be a fun night."

He finally smirked, fixing his cap. "Right. Soju."

When Seungkwan and Seokmin finally got to the liquor store, they were sweaty and panting, they probably had to run to catch up with you and Soonyoung. But they were laughing about something as you reunited with them on the sidewalk outside the store.

"Hi there, noodle," Seokmin raised his hand and patted your head at the same time that his other hand reached for the six pack of beer you were holding to carry it himself.

You cringed at the name he used to call you. Which was born after a professor called you only by noodle arms in a dance class you four had to take at uni.

"Dk, it's been ages since you called me that," you whined, but as soon as he propped his arm around your shoulders you couldn't help but smile in his familiar warmth.

"Well, I've suddenly forgotten your name. You're Noodle now," he spoke in an old man's tone. But broke in a laugh as you poked his rib with your finger. "Sorry."

You walked in pairs towards the fancy apartment building down the street.

"Were you in the audience?" you asked.

"Yeah, obviously. Soonyoung wouldn't shut up about the play for weeks," he pressed his lips into a smile. "Besides, it's your first lead role in a while, I wouldn't have missed it."

"Did you like it?"

Seungkwan turned, and you understood he could listen on everything you and Seokmin were saying. "He fell asleep. Obviously," he sassed.

"I dozed off for two minutes!" Seokmin bellowed, but a wide smile formed on his face. "I did get to see your parts, though. And Soonyoung's."

"Thanks for coming, guys."

"No problem," Seokmin smiled briefly. "Hey, I heard that you moved out of Soonyoung's. Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped."

Just five months ago, your world turned upside down when you found out your ex had been cheating on you for weeks. To make matters worse, it was with that one girl he told you not to worry about.

You had to move out of the apartment you shared with your ex, leaving behind many things you couldn't take with you. That is when Soonyoung came to your rescue and offered his place for you to crash for a while.

"Well, I didn't need much help anyways. It was just a few boxes, really."

"I was still sad you didn't call though. You haven't even shared your new address," he pouted as he spoke, and you could tell he was joking. "It made me contemplate the whole meaning of our friendship, you know."

You snorted. "Not you too," you exclaimed. "First, Hoshi gets all corny with me and now you."

He showed a downturned smile. "You know I'm only playing with you. Soonyoung, however, thinks you're still a ticking time bomb."

You glanced at your friends, who were walking some steps ahead of you. Soonyoung was showing Seungkwan some TikToks he recorded for the company's official account, so you were out of their earshot.

"And you don't?" you asked.

He shrugged, looking at the floor as you made your way towards the tall building's lobby. "I think you're doing alright. Better than any of us would in your position. Honestly."

You let out a long sigh. "I just wish that people would stop asking me about it. I'm tired of it, the pity treatment, the tiptoeing around the subject."

"Well, you can't just expect us to not worry," he said softly.

"I know," you coincided.

You were still walking together, since Seokmin had his arm in your shoulders. Lately he did it often, and you didn't mind. You liked the the warmth with which he always treated you.

"I sometimes think that I was emotionally checked out from the relationship some time before I found out," you say, and felt that you could've dropped a bomb with that confession.

"So that's why you don't want to talk about it," he reasoned, his brow furrowed, deep in thought.

"I think so," you shrugged. "But I'm being honest when I say that I'm okay."

"And I believe you," he assented, pulling you closer for a brief moment and then dropped his arm from your shoulders. "I won't bring it up again."

The four of you entered the elevator that took you to the large apartment of the show's director, who was a young man you knew from your early days at uni. He had suddenly found his way through and had started to direct full plays in local theatres. His name was Yoon Jeonghan. And he hosted a party for every opening night.

It was your first time in that apartment. You knew the director in person, however, the three guys riding with you in the elevator knew him better, as they have had more roles than you these past few months.

You feel a slight tug to your side. "You know he's most likely going to be there, right?" Seungkwan said quietly, eyeing you with caution.

"I know," you mumbled. "'M going to be alright."

Now, why would you go to a place where you probably would encounter you cheating ex? Some part within you was deeply uninterested to see him again. And the other part was just enraged that he somehow mattered in your life still.

The opening night after party was almost like a tradition now, at least for most of the people who were close to Jeonghan.

The apartment was crowded, and you could tell it was set up to avoid bothering the neighbours. It had cushioned, soundproof walls, shaded windows, speakers kept at a reasonable volume, and many guests were congregating on the spacious terrace.

Jeonghan was a great host. He was kind of shy, but eager to meet everyone personally. He welcomed you with a warm smile, however he did hug the boys as they stepped into his large apartment.

You were quickly left to your own devices as your three friends were absorbed into the group of partygoers. Then you remembered how popular they have been since you met them.

The trio kind of took you in from that point forward because you were the one who organized university projects and stayed on top of schoolwork. But short after that, you found a close group of friends who were always there for you.

You decided that the only way you were going to get through the night was with some alcohol in your system. You weren't either an introvert or extrovert, you always thought you were in some middle point.

But your ex was there, sitting outside in the terrace with a girl beside him. You never knew the girl he cheated on you personally, but you knew it was her.

You snorted.

Suddenly, you felt a hand at your back. Seokmin looked at you, wariness in his eyes that dissipated quickly. "Want something to drink?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

"I feel like a bad influence," he simulated a shudder. "It's exciting."

You two downed your first glass of soju.

A few moments, the one glass of soju turned into the whole bottle. You drank while singing karaoke with strangers or with your friends. You drank while meeting new people and getting to know those who were part of your cast.

As you said, you were alright.

You just finished singing a song in the karaoke with Seokmin, who could hold his liquor a lot better than you. Both of you laughed at the way you couldn't keep up with the lyrics anymore and became a slurry mess.

"Never again," you say as the karaoke score marked a 10% on the screen.

"Remind me to never let you do this again," he agreed, teary eyed and red on the face from laughing with you.

The microphones were passed to other people, and soon after that, the party settled for just music.

Your chest still hurt from laughing.

"I'll go get some air," you announced a bit breathlessly as you made your way to the terrace.

Suddenly, Seokmin's hand made its way to your waist again and you glanced at him, his face had hardened.

And then you understood why.

As you were heading outside, your ex was leaving the terrace with his new girlfriend causing an awkward encounter. Your ex gave you a casual nod as if you were friends still, and his new girlfriend shot you a sly smirk as your arms brushed past each other.

"Hey, y/n," your ex goaded as they made their way inside the apartment.

You didn't reply.

Within this awkward exchange, you don't know how Seokmin's hand ended up intertwined with yours.

The air on the terrace smelled like a mixture of weed, vape and cigarettes. But it was cruelly cold enough to cool your body.

Seokmin mumbled something under his breath. And you noticed he was glancing at the back of your ex's neck with a scowl on his face.

You squeezed his hand, still not knowing how he grabbed you.

"How drunk are you?" he asked, his face was still serious.

"A bit. I think I'm beginning to sober up."

"Good," he breathed, pushing his bangs from his forehead and with them his furrowed brow. "Can you do something for me, noodle?"

You hit him in the shoulder. "Don't call me that," you smiled. "What do you want?"

"How about," he begun, not letting go of your hand, "I pretend to be your date for the night? Make the bastard realize he has no room in your life anymore."

"What," you blurt out and blinked feeling a bit perplexed at his offer. "You've finally lost it, Seokmin."

"I'm sorry. I know I said I wouldn't bring it up again. But I hate the way he thinks you still give a shit about him."

"I don't," you blinked.

"Then why would he go out of his way to even speak to you?" he countered.

"Seokmin, are you angry?" you gasped.

You could count on the fingers of your hand the number of times you'd seen Seokmin angry. And the other times it didn't matter because he was more the sulky type when something was bothering him. But at that moment, he was pissed off.

"A bit, yeah," he admitted with a sigh, but immediately flashed a sincere smile, almost as if his anger was a little embarrassing to him. He raised his brow. "But my offer still stands, though."

"D'you think it will work?" you mused.

"It might tell your ex a thing or two about leaving you alone. And as a plus, everyone else will also stop asking you about what happened between you and him." Seokmin added, almost casually.

You glanced towards the other end of the terrace briefly, and realized that Seungkwan was eyeing you too, a worried look on his eye as you caught him.

Licking his lips, he grabbed you by the shoulders. "What do you say?" He seemed relaxed, even focused; he tilted his head slightly as he looked into your eyes.

You held his gaze, listening to his words. Realizing that they were very much real and that Seokmin was dead serious about it.

Then, you realize how close you were to his body. His hands slid from your shoulders to your arms, where he traced soft lines with his fingers.

"Just for tonight," you murmured, but it came out sounding like a question.

"As long as you want," he offered. One hand found your chin, his fingers pressing softly on your hot skin.

You looked at his dark brown eyes. The relaxed look on his face was almost unsettling. As if he knew your answer already.

"Deal," you breathed.

His fingers angled your face towards him. "Just play along." He said softly, his lips curving into a playful smile as he leaned his head to kiss you deeply in front of everyone who, until that night, thought you were heartbroken for someone else.

Your hands found the back of his head, burying your fingers in his soft copper hair. You couldn't ignore that it had been a long while since your body felt so ablaze. Maybe it was the remaining alcohol on your system doing its part.

But even before you and your ex split, you felt kind of longing for the touch of someone. Something real. And although Seokmin was playing a role as he did on stage, kissing him felt different. It felt good.

As the kiss deepened, his tongue brushed your lower lip almost hungrily and you thought your knees might buckle under the shudder. A moan was quickly supressed in his mouth when his hand moved from your face to the back of your hair, his fingers tangling in a soft fist.

"I never imagined you'd be this good of a kisser," you confess.

Your chests were now pressed together, so you felt him chuckle. "Well, you know now," his demeanour had changed completely.

You wanted to look if anyone had seen you. But Seokmin was quick to read your intentions. He grabbed your chin again softly, forcing you to keep looking at him.

"Act normal," he ordered quietly with a look of endearment on his face, as if he were saying something sweet to you.

"I've never done this before," you sighed.

"I can tell," he smiled sweetly.

"Don't tell me you've done this before!"

He removed his hands from you, and made a gesture with his head, pointing towards the couch on the terrace. "Come with me."

You sat next to him, and as you did so, you saw Seungkwan's face, he was looking over at you both with an expression on his face that clearly read, 'what the fuck?' to you.

Seokmin scooted close to you on the couch, and placed one hand on you thigh and his other hand rested on his own thigh.

"I haven't done this before either," he confessed. "But you're an actress, and I'm an actor. We can act this out."

You snorted. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Lee Seokmin," you said drily.

Seokmin was smiling sweetly at you. Your shoulders were pressed together and your thighs were also so close that you might as well just sit on his lap. You fought against the thought.

"Then, act like you're my girl," he said idly, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek.

An exhilarating feeling roused deep within you. You fixated on how comfortable his hand on your thigh looked, and the ease to which Seokmin took your face with his other hand and captured your lips with his.

Your hand met the one that was holding the side of your face.

"Afraid to put on a little show?" he coaxed.

A smirk crept on your lips, almost involuntarily you find yourself saying. "What do you want me to do?"

He blinked slowly, almost as if he was a little startled by your new demeanour. "Just relax." he put in softly. "And if you don't like something, tell me. Okay?"

You nod. "Okay."

His thumb caressed your jawline softly, before pressing his lips with yours. What started as a sweet kiss, slowly evolved to a enticing one. His mouth explored yours, biting softly at your lower lip, and his tongue lapping yours, testing what made you whimper or what made your hand clasp his.

You rested your forehead against his for a bit, catching your breath. "I hate that you are so good at this."

He laughed, taking one strand of hair and tucking it behind your ear. "Why is that?" he asked quietly.

"Dunno. I never thought of you as anything other than my friend."

His eyebrows shot up. "You never thought of me doing this?" he asked almost amazed.

"You did?" you quipped with half a smile.

Then you thought of doing something with your hands, since they were laying flat on your thighs. You pushed some strands of hair from Seokmin's forehead, and brushed the hair that you had messed up when you kissed.

His eyelids fluttered briefly. "I mean, I did wondered."

You pointed a finger to his face. "Don't lie, Seokmin."

He smiled sheepishly. "I just wondered what you'd be like. Honest."

"And?" you ask.

Seokmin shrugged. "You're not terrible."

The tingling sensation in the lower pit your stomach only intensified. Almost as if Seokmin had just challenged you. You laughed at his words, seeing his chapped lips smile at your reaction.

You locked your lips with his again, but this time more confidently, and your slipped your tongue to meet his. Your hands grabbed his face, and travelled to the sides of his neck, earning a small moan from him.

Feeling embarrassed, you broke away to breathe. If Seokmin noticed that you were getting all worked up, he said nothing about it. Yeah, you were both actors and have known each other for years, but you were human. And somehow Seokmin knew where to put his hands and how to kiss you perfectly.

You pulled out your phone from your pocket and opened your camera. Seokmin understood immediately and took your phone from your hands and angled it to capture you both for a few photos.

He took photos of you leaning your head on his shoulder, one in which you kiss him on his cheek and he smiles, and another one of him kissing the top of your head.

The photos would be kept in your album, as you didn't intend on actually posting them. Not yet anyway.

You tried not to think too hard about how crazy this all was. A part of you didn't feel awkward, as if the familiarity of his body near yours was meant to be this way anyway.

Testing your own boundaries, you turned to him, grabbing his chin to kiss him again, and you realized just how much you liked his lips on yours. But you didn't think it was anything else.

You nuzzled to his side softly. "D'you think that was enough of a show?" you mumbled to his ear, feeling embarrassed that you were so breathless from kissing.

You felt Seokmin smile again as if you had just spoken sweet nothings to his ear. "I think. Wanna get out of here?"

"Sounds good to me."

You stood up from the couch at the same time as Seokmin. He promptly grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers in his. As you made your way out of there, you and Seokmin waved at your friends goodbye. Making a show that you were leaving hand in hand with Seokmin.

As soon as you stepped on the elevator, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Before you saw the screen, you knew what you were about to read.

[10:39 PM] boo: hello ??? [10:39 PM] boo: wtf are you doing? [10:40 PM] you: wdym? [10:40 PM] boo: with dk ?? [10:40 PM] boo: since when ?

"We have to come up with a story," you tell Seokmin, who was leaning his back against the wall of the elevator.

He was looking at his own phone. And you couldn't help but eye at his lithe fingers. You sighed, pushing your thoughts away.

"I agree," he said and showed you his screen. Messages from Seungkwan and Soonyoung were popping on the screen so urgently that you couldn't read any.

You buried your hands in your pockets along with your phone. "I think we did stir up some waters," you muttered.

Seokmin pressed his lips into a content smile. "Hopefully they stop nagging you with questions of your ex."

"They're going to ask questions about you now," you countered with a smile. "Though I rather talk about you than that jerk."

"That is the plan," Seokmin smirked.

"Why, though?" you find yourself asking.

Seokmin eyed you for a second. "At first it was because I really despise your ex," he confessed. "But I think I'm obligated to tell you that I really liked it. The attention."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Promise?" you insist.

He came to a full stop on the sidewalk and you were force to stop too. Seokmin held out one pinky finger towards you wordlessly.

You breathed out with a smile. "This is not necessary." You say, linking your finger with his.

It wasn't just a pinky promise. It was something your group of friends took too seriously. You didn't lie to each other, and promising it with your pinkies could very well serve as an oath.

It was childish. But your friend group liked it that way.

Seokmin walked you to your apartment building, which also served as a way to show him where you lived now.

"Talk to you tomorrow," Seokmin said as he pull you into a bear hug and patted your head affectionately.

"Sure," you said.

He watched as you entered the building, and waved at you goodbye before disappearing behind the elevator doors.

Someone peeked over your shoulder to look at your phone screen to the point where you can feel their breath on your neck.

That someone was Boo Seungkwan.

You've been typing nonstop for five minutes, your fingernails snapping at the screen in a frenzy.

"Stop snooping," you tried to tell him while typing.

The coffee shop where you both work part-time has been quiet, as it's almost 9 p.m. and you're both about to clock out. There have only been a couple of passing customers during the last hour of your shift, so your attention has been diverted elsewhere.

You hear a sigh and then, "So you're not going to tell me what happened yesterday?"

"'Bout what?" you said absentmindedly.

"About what happened with Seokmin," he answered pointedly.

"What about it? We just kissed."

You heard him scoff. "You two did not just kissed, you made out on a dirty couch. And then you both disappeared for the rest of the night. Yeah, you're not fucking fooling me."

You didn't find it strange to hear him curse. He's been your friend for years, ever since you met at university. But he's lately been expressing his annoyance with you for your decisions, so you hear him cursing a lot more lately.

That is what pulled your gaze from the phone screen. "Don't put it like that. The couch was decent."

He rolled his eyes, and cursed some more. "Now, you're trying to be coy. The couch doesn't matter. What matters is that you kissed with your friend, our friend!"

"And? We're two consenting adults," you shrugged while trying to keep a straight face. But you couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed.

"Are you guys a thing then?"

You stared at him, racking your brain to come up with an answer.

A customer entered the shop at the same time you opened your mouth to tell Seungkwan everything that happened last night. Somehow, you didn't see far up ahead your actions and didn't think Seungkwan would react like this. So you feel secretly grateful that the customer drove you away from that conversation.

"Listen," Seungkwan said as soon as you two finished closing up. "I really don't care what you two are, I just hate it when you keep me in the dark on important stuff like this. Before last night, I though you were still broken over Youngho."

You two usually walked home together whenever you had to close the shop. Seungkwan lived a couple of blocks away from you so you kept each other company.

You contemplated sharing with him that what happened with Seokmin was improvised on the spot. That you were just as surprised with the turn of events as he was. But, telling him would just trump the deal you had struck with Seokmin.

And you were a bit too greedy to let that happen.

"I'm sorry, Seungkwan. I know it was shitty of me to not mention anything," you found yourself saying with a small shrug.

"That and playing dumb," he said, shooting a resentful glance at you.

"Yeah, and playing dumb or whatever," you said, rolling your eyes but couldn't help but smile. "How can I make it up to you?"

"Can you cover me on monday morning?" he answered a bit too quickly.

You snorted. "Sure. But only if you promise to stop berating me."

"I am not berating you."

You continued walking to the apartment complex in silence. For a short bit, though. You knew what was coming.

"So you two are a thing or not?"

"Sorta," you shrugged again.

"Sorta," he parroted.

You stopped at the door of the building where you live.

The weather was cold, to the point that Seungkwan's breath could be seen as he sighed with a weak smile.

"Well, just don't fuck this up, okay?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "I know that you are a big girl and can take care of yourself but, just don't do something stupid just because you can't move on."

"I got it, Kwannie," you tried to brush off with a hand gesture. "I promise not to fuck it up, okay?"

"See you tomorrow." He turned around and walked towards two buildings down the street, where he lived with his roommate Vernon.

"See ya!"

In the elevator, you scrambled for your keys, which were in the pocket of your jacket. You tried to play it cool with Seungkwan, however couldn't help but feel anxiety pulsating on your stomach as the elevator doors opened with a ding noise.

Seokmin lifted his head to the sound, he was leaning back next to your apartment door, phone in his hand. "Hi there," he said with a soft smile that reached his eyes.

"Hi. Have you been waiting long?"

He stood up straight and pocketed his phone as you walked to the door and opened it. You glanced sideways at him, he was wearing the oversized hoodie from last night, but instead of jeans he was now wearing grey sweat shorts.

"Nope. Just ten minutes."

"I couldn't shake off Seungkwan's prying," you informed, as you both entered your apartment.

You closed the door behind you two, removing your boots at the entrance. Seokmin followed suit and removed his Nike's, carefully placing them next to your boots.

"I imagined as much," he hummed. He still had a content smile on his face.

You two held each others gaze for a moment. Only to realize that you hadn't even turned on the lights, or fully invited him to your apartment.

"Make yourself at home," you chimed, turning on the lights of the living space. It was empty except for the lone large sofa, a TV screen perilously propped up on a plastic table, and a pile of boxes from when you moved out of your ex's apartment.

Seokmin smirked.

"I haven't had the chance to unpack yet... or buy more furniture," you murmured briefly.

He noticed the pillow and the pile of blankets that were tossed in the couch. "I assume that you don't have a bed yet, either."

"I just have the bed frame," you reply as you remove the pillow out of the way and fold the blankets in half. "It's still packaged, though."

"Hey, don't think I'm judging you," he raised the palms of his hands innocently. "I use to sleep on the floor at a friend's place when I got to this city, remember?"

Seokmin was a great friend. If you could describe him succinctly, it would be that. A great friend. You knew he wasn't judging you, since the curiosity in his smiling eyes didn't fade as he sat on the couch and eyed the piles of boxes that were labelled with your name in your ex's handwriting.

You also knew that Seokmin sleeping on the floor when he moved to the city to study was not the same as being kicked out of you and your ex's apartment after he cheated on you. But you were glad that his mind didn't go there, evidently.

"Can I offer you anything?" you sighed heavily. "I may not have furniture yet, but my fridge is full and the rent is paid."

"Well, that is what matters as far as I'm aware. I'm fine, thank you," he pressed his lips. He then scooped to the side and patted next to him on the couch.

Right.

"So..." you breathed, sitting down next to him. "You wanted to talk."

You were now sitting next to each other. Being so close to him sparked something deep within you, something that last night made you feel alive.

Then, you knew that you were in trouble. It was alarming the fact that you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You were aware of every gesture, every movement Seokmin made. You gulped.

Seokmin sat with his knees spread slightly apart, his hands resting comfortably between his thighs. "About last night," he begun.

"I, uh-"

"If we're going to do this, we need some ground rules," he declared.

"Wait. Seriously?" you blurted out.

"Wha- what did you think I was going to say?" He looked up to catch your gaze.

"I thought you were going to back out."

"Oh, you want to call it off?" Seokmin retorted, his eyes searching your face.

"No. Not really. Last night was..."

His eyes lit up along with a playful smile. "Fun?"

"Yeah, exactly," you matched his smile. "Well, I don't enjoy lying to Seungkwan, but at least I didn't get the pity treatment, for once."

"Wait. What did you say to him?"

"That we are sort of a thing," you mumbled.

His eyebrows pushed up. "And he believed that?" Seokmin laughed, brushing his hair hastily with his lithe fingers.

"He seemed to," you shrugged. "He stopped questioning me after that."

"Well, that is what you wanted, isn't it?" he shifted beside you, so that he was facing your body. Then he took that same hand to fix his watch on his other wrist.

You mirrored his movements, and now the two of you sat facing each other on the couch. You leaned your head on your hand, with your elbow resting on the couch's headrest.

"So what happens next?" you asked.

Seokmin shrugged slightly, a relaxed look on his face. "Whatever you want, I told you."

You bit your lip for a second, aware of the fact that Seokmin was gazing at your mouth and your eyes, silently waiting for your response.

"I'm still thinking of last night," you confessed, the act of being that blunt made your cheeks heat up.

"Me too. I couldn't think of anything else," he smirked. Your eyes lingered a bit on his lips too.

He toyed a bit with the sleeves of his black hoodie, and pulled them up to his elbows, then crossed his arms across his chest. You swallowed at the sight of how veiny his forearms looked.

"D'you think that we could talk about the ground rules later?" you asked sheepishly.

Seokmin couldn't help but notice the way you inclined towards him slightly. And you couldn't help but notice him swallow hard. "What do you want to do?"

"I really want you to kiss me again," you mumbled, feeling something rouse within you.

His eyes twinkled with excitement. "Oh, yeah?" he hummed.

He seemed as if he were waiting for you to say something inviting, you noticed the moment he smiled when you nodded a bit too eagerly with your head.

He lifted his hands to grab you by the sides of your head. "C'mere," he whispered, his lips quickly finding yours in a soft kiss.

You felt his breath on your neck as he pulled away slightly. "Again?" you sighed.

His mouth was smiling as his lips found yours again, and as the soft kisses turned more demanding, you couldn't ignore how your body responded.

This felt different from the make out session of the night prior. It was entirely carnal, at least, Seokmin kissed you with more eagerness, unafraid of being seen and judged. You heard his breath catch in a gasp and his lips smack. You both were not acting.

You broke away from him, all thoughts in your head quieted down when in a sudden movement, you moved in the couch to sit on his lap, straddling him. Seokmin said nothing either, and you silently thanked him, as his hands returned to the sides of your face to kiss you deeply.

The sizzling feeling at the lower pit of your stomach, the warmth all over your skin when one of his hands slipped from your face to the back of your head and fisted your hair softly, sending chills down your spine and making you moan in response.

"Yeah, I thought you liked that last night," Seokmin mumbled gruffly.

"Shut up," you smiled.

"Make me," he whispered back.

You leaned in to kiss him again, a rush of adrenaline filled you as his hands that were on the sides of your head moved to your back to press your body against his. Fingertips trailed softly on the sides of his neck, you felt him shudder as you made your way to his collarbones where you shyly touched his skin like never before.

Seokmin left a trail of kisses from your lips, to your jaw and ended on your neck. You gasped when he found a sweet spot effortlessly, and made something flutter in your stomach. Hearing your reaction, Seokmin sucked on the spot gently, eliciting a moan from you.

It had been a while since you felt like this. Even with your ex, you felt that the last few times you were together like this were more of a obligatory act from both of you.

So, being close to Seokmin like this was like unearthing feelings that your body had long forgotten. And it was really hard to control.

You let your hips sit fully on his lap and started grinding on him suggestively. Seokmin groaned in your mouth and broke away.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice sounded raspy.

"Oh, fuck—sorry. You don't like that?" you whimpered and made a gesture to move out of his lap.

But Seokmin grabbed you tightly to his body effortlessly, since his hands were still on your back. "No, it's not that," he put in briefly.

You stared at him, puzzled. "What is it then?"

"What do you want?" he countered.

He watched you swallow hard. "I want you," you muttered, hoping that the emphasis you put in the word was enough for him.

A few strands of hair had stuck to your wet lips, and Seokmin pulled them away with gentle fingers as he asked: "How do you want me?"

You couldn't help but smile. "Don't tease me like that."

Seokmin just shrugged calmly, but his eyes were burning with lust. "I won't do anything unless you tell me."

You planted a soft kiss on his jaw, then one on his lower lip. "I want you to fuck me, Seokmin," you whispered into his lips.

He reciprocated the slow, wet kiss. And groaned again when you grinded your hips one more time. "I didn't bring any condoms," he mumbled.

"Really?" your voice sounded obnoxiously high.

"I just came here to talk," Seokmin laughed. "It never crossed my mind that we'd fuck."

"Really?"

"Really. I didn't think you'd be this needy," he started laughing when you landed a playful smack to one of his shoulders.

You rolled your eyes at him. "I'm on the pill."

His hand grabbed your chin and he pulled away to look at you in the eyes. "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

You both understood what this meant for your friendship. Seokmin didn't seem concerned at all about you being on his lap, or that you were practically begging him to fuck you right there and then. He seemed willing, but like the good gentleman he was, he needed you to say what you wanted.

You nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Seokmin's lips parted briefly as he scanned your face with his eyes one last time. "Fuck," he groaned, and pulled you to his mouth again.

Your lips latched onto his, hungrily, teeth grazing, tongues clashing. You could feel the wetness from his saliva beneath your mouth as the kiss turned sloppy and more fervent.

His hands casually made their way from your back to your hips, where they rested comfortably before giving you a gentle squeeze.

"Take these off," he murmured in your lips, his fingers pinched at the fabric of your jeans.

You stood from his lap to take your jeans off, aware that Seokmin had his eyes on you. He rest his head on the back of the sofa, his hungry eyes watched your body up and down. His hand grabbed yours and tugged you his way to gesture you to straddle him again.

Your lips explore his neck, licking the spot below his ear, and he breathed out a moan. His fingertips dug slightly on your hips, and then he cupped your ass when you left wet kisses and sucked in the spot again.

Seokmin pressed your body back and forth, rubbing your clothed pussy against his hard cock. You moaned and hid your face in the crook of his neck and grinded some more on him.

"Let me see you," he muttered in your ear.

Your lips searched his tentatively, kissing him with haste as his hands moved from your backside to underneath your top. You broke the kiss again, and let him remove your shirt entirely.

Seokmin revelled at the sight of your half naked body, his fingers trailing softly from your collarbone, to your sternum, all the way to your bellybutton.

"Pretty," he mumbled when his fingers tugged at the band of your pink panties.

He looked at you, as if asking for permission. But he quietly trailed his fingers to your clothed core, and there he found that your panties were already soaked. You could feel yourself grow more aroused at the mere act of him feeling you without breaking eye contact.

You shuddered a sigh when he pushed the soaked fabric aside and had to bite your lip from moaning loudly when his fingers found your wet core.

Seokmin sighed. "You're so fucking wet," he smiled softly.

"God, Seokmin–," you breathed and your eyes fluttered close when he slowly moved one of his fingers inside you. And then, he pushed another finger in.

He bent his head and planted a kiss on your shoulder. "Ride my hand, baby," he said hoarsely.

A shiver went down your spine at hearing what Seokmin called you. You started moving on his hand almost immediately grinding on his fingers the same way you had done on his lap.

Your forehead found his, a tingling sensation travelled your body when you his breath caressed your face. "Seokmin."

His lips were formed into a smile when he pressed his lips on yours in a chaste kiss. "Mmyeah, that's my name, baby."

His other hand unclasped your bra expertly, and you helped him with the straps and threw it somewhere on the floor. You felt his breath on your skin and your nipples grow hard.

It was almost embarrassing to you to hear the squelching sounds you were making against the hand between your legs. But you could barely pay some thoughts to it, all you could think of was the way he moved his hands on your body. And that you wanted more.

He rubbed his thumb around your nipples, and you watch him do it, watched the hand buried in your pussy as you grinded on him, close to your release. Then, his hand rested on your neck for a bit and you shuddered when his thumb caressed your skin and curved around your throat.

"You like them?" he asked peering at your face. "My hands? I've seen the way you look at them."

"Yeah," you breathed. "I wondered what they would look like on me."

"Oh, yeah?" he smiled. Then pulled out his fingers from your core, just about when you were about to cum. You blinked at him, confused.

"Lie down," he muttered, pointing to the sofa. You did as he said, and moved your back to the sofa, your knees pulled up.

"I knew you'd be bossy," you confessed, feeling hot on your face.

Seokmin's eyebrows raised a bit. "Been thinking about me a lot, huh?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. And then his hands reached up to the collar of his hoodie, he threw it over his body in one swift motion and tossed it aside.

His bare chest was the first thing you saw, it was wide and lean. You also got a good look at his strong thighs when he undid his shorts, and step out of them.

A shiver shot up inside you when you saw the outline of his hard cock pressing against the tight fabric of his black underwear.

His toned arms as they came to the sides of your head to lean and kiss you fervently. "Stop looking at me like that," he groaned softly in your mouth.

He placed his knees on the sofa and patted you on one of your knees gently. "Spread your legs for me," he placed himself in between your legs as soon as you did what he ordered.

Seokmin left a trail of open mouthed kisses from your neck, to your collarbones as he palmed and squeezed your breasts with his hands. Your fingers tangled in his soft hair and moaned his name again when he sucked one of your nipples gently as his fingers pinched the other one.

He stood on his knees, hooking his fingers on your panties and dragged them along your legs, and dropped them to the side of the sofa.

Seokmin held your legs with his hands, as he placed kisses on the inner side of your thighs, sucking and licking softly on your skin. He gave you a glance one time before lowering his mouth to your core.

A whine reverberated on your chest quite loudly as your back arched almost involuntarily. Feeling his tongue lapping on your core, licking almost hungrily but patiently too, as if he wanted to take his time pleasuring you.

Seokmin revelled in your taste, in the sounds you made. He groaned when your fingers tugged at his soft hair again, he groaned when you whimpered his name as you neared your orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered with eyes shut. Just as when you thought you couldn't feel any closer, Seokmin slid his two fingers inside you, pumping in and out. Your hips rutted desperately against his face and he was quick to hold them down with his free hand.

"Be still," he said softly, before dipping his head down on you again.

"Sorry," you replied breathlessly.

He hummed in response, and you could tell that he was amused at the desperate mess he made of you. But all you could think of was his mouth on your clit, as he had quickly found out how you liked to be stimulated, eliciting moans and half pleas.

You heard him moan with you when you reached your climax, as if he enjoyed the noises that you made, along with his name. Seokmin pulled his fingers out and placed sweet kisses on your clit.

You watched him lick his lips and fingers clean, and you could see that the tip of his nose was slightly wet with your arousal, making you grin at the sight of it. You cleaned it with your fingers as you brought his mouth to yours to kiss him fiercely.

"You taste so good," he muttered lazily on your lips and you could taste yourself in them.

You started tugging at the band of his underwear, pulling it down as best as the position of your bodies let you. Seokmin sighed, and you noticed that he was smiling.

"Be patient," he groaned, his demeanour seemed elated still. But he stood up from the sofa, and quickly got rid of his underwear, revealing his large cock.

You gulped almost involuntarily. "You have a pretty cock," you mumbled once he was between your legs again.

That took him off guard. He gave you a breathy chuckle. "Well, that's a first," he confessed.

Yeah, you were quite sure he didn't get the word 'pretty' as often as 'big'.

He gave you a small peck on your lips, pulling you out of your trance. "You're ready?" he asked.

You winced in anticipation the moment you felt his cockhead align with your entrance. Your fingers cradled his face as he watched you nod.

"I need to hear you, baby," he crooned, placing another sweet kiss on your lip.

"I'm ready."

He held one of your legs angled for him as he eased himself inside you painfully slow. You grabbed at his shoulders, letting your fingertips dig at his skin.

"F-fuck," you whispered, releasing the air that caught between your teeth and Seokmin sighed deeply too as he stretched your pussy slowly.

It had been a while since you last had sex, so the feeling of having someone, let alone someone as big as Seokmin took a bit more from you than expected.

"Good girl," he muttered through gritted teeth when your hips met fully. You felt your walls flutter a bit around his cock, easing from the sting at having him stretch you open.

His eyes searched your face briefly, but wasted no time and started moving slowly and with shallow thrusts until you both adjusted to each other's bodies. Then he effortlessly picked up his pace and his thrusts started coming and going deeply inside you.

He kissed your moans with wet lips and released your leg from his grip. "Wrap your legs around me," you did as he said, also wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed your lips again.

His hands buried in your hair, closing in a tight first and his forehead leaned on yours. "You feel so fucking good, baby," he gritted his teeth. His hips buckled once before taking a faster and harder pace on you.

"Fuck! Right there," you moaned on his mouth. And gripped him tighter with you hands.

The grip on your hair tightened and he turned your head to the side slightly to make way for his lips on your neck where he had found a sweet spot.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself on the reflection of the tv screen. You hadn't noticed it before when you were so busy staring at Seokmin, but now, you could see your face wild with lust, and your body entangled with Seokmin's; as his hips rammed against yours.

You almost fell in love at the image of him fucking you, passionately, hard and fast. Just seeing your bodies melted like this made your body quiver almost sending you to the edge.

He lifted his head and found you staring at both your reflections, he smiled at you and cooed. "Look at you, so flustered and pretty."

His thrusts quickened, but they didn't relent on their depth. And it was exactly what you needed. Your hands travelled down his back and dug your nails in his ass, earning a throaty moan from the man above you.

You were panting, feeling all sanity lip out your mind and you could hear yourself call his name in whispers, but couldn't make out another word.

Soft, wet kisses trailed down your neck to your mouth as the lewd noises you made filled the room.

"Are you going to cum again, baby?"

"'m so close," you whimpered. You closed your eyes, savouring the feeling as you reached your second orgasm.

"Look at me, baby," you heard him whisper and opened your eyes to find his.

"God. Seokmin. Don't stop, please," you cried as your body trembled with hot waves of pleasure.

A long moan escaped your mouth but was quickly supressed by a wet kiss. "I know baby," he whispered as you came on his cock, whimpering and twitching uncontrollably under his body.

Then he sat back down on his knees, grabbing you by your hips with a tight grip, and the change in position made you moan lazily. You didn't think you could keep going, but the sight of Seokmin's face riddled with pleasure made want to chase after a third orgasm.

Seokmin threw his head back before letting out a deep moan with his eyelids shut, his lips parted and twitching slightly once. You could feel your body tremble again at the thought of his cum inside you, and moaned at the same time he did, his thrusts on you not relenting until your cream started dripping at the base of his cock, mixing with his cum.

As his hips came to a stop on top of you, he glanced down to where your bodies remained connected and sighed in pleasure at the sight.

You also could feel yourself get lost at the sight of him for a bit. His heavy breathing made his chest and shoulders move up and down in a languid manner, a light layer of sweat covered his neck and collarbones.

He moved to rest his head on your chest for a moment, without saying a word. You knew he could hear your heartbeat, as you could feel his own heart stuttering against your body.

His forehead also glistened with seat, his hot breath caressed your breasts and even though you could see his relaxed features, you noticed that he was lost in thought.

You pushed his wet bangs from his face, drawing his attention to you. "We're still friends, right?" you asked jokingly.

His lips rose in a lazy smile and nodded. "Still friends."

♡︎ Final notes: I haven't posted fanfic for years sooo... well, if you liked it please show it some love, a reblog or leave a comment, i'm all eyes. click here for part 2 ( · ❛ ֊ ❛)

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