#oh and here is miles making out with a guy

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

[rqyup]

# is this part of the plan ? (oneshot)

pairing.. rafayel x dating coach!reader

cw.. angst, non mc!reader, repost

love and deepspace masterlist

thinking about.. rafayel after mc rejects him with the cutting yet honest words,

“you’re too emotionally unstable right now. you need to figure yourself out.”

rafayel is crushed. he spends days sulking in self-pity until a friend points him toward you, a well-known dating coach.

when you first meet him, he’s awkward, defensive, and a little too overdramatic. “i’m not here because i’m bad at love,” he insists. “i’m here because she doesn’t see what’s right in front of her!”

thanks to your years of experience, you saw right through him. he’s stubborn and emotionally guarded, but deep down, he’s just a broken guy who wants to be loved. you agree to help him—not because you think he’s hopeless, but because you see potential in him.

the first sessions are a mix of awkwardness and resistance. rafayel treats it like a battle, constantly questioning your advice.

“you want me to… share my feelings? i think not.”

“writing letters? that’s ridiculous. who does that?”

thinking about.. slowly but surely, though, he begins to trust you. he starts sharing little pieces of himself—stories of his 800 years of waiting, his fears of rejection, and his struggles with being vulnerable. meanwhile, you’re genuinely rooting for him. you find yourself impressed by his progress, even charmed by the small, unguarded moments he shows during your sessions.

one day, you’re both walking back from a session, and rafayel surprises you by holding the door open for you. it’s a simple gesture, but it feels oddly thoughtful.

another time, he shows up to a session with your favorite drink, casually saying, “you mentioned you liked it last time.”

he starts practicing small compliments. “that color suits you” he says offhandedly, and you nearly drop your notebook.

at first, you think he’s just practicing for mc, but there’s something… different about how he treats you. the way his gaze lingers just a little too long. the way his tone softens when he says your name.

during one session, you’re giving him advice about emotional vulnerability, explaining how important it is to express how you feel to the people who matter. he stares at you, his usual sharp retort dying on his lips. for the first time, he really listens—not because he’s thinking about mc, but because the only person he wants to open up to is you.

thinking about.. how the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. “oh no,” he thinks. “this isn’t about her anymore.”

rafayel spends the rest of the session distracted, his mind racing. he starts avoiding eye contact, stammering over his words. by the time he leaves, he’s completely panicked.

rafayel begins skipping sessions, making up flimsy excuses like, “i’m busy,” or “i don’t think i need your help anymore.”

you assume it’s because he’s succeeded with mc. while you’re happy for him, a small part of you feels… empty. you hadn’t realized how much you’d started looking forward to his presence, his awkward smiles, and his dramatic complaints.

alone in your office, you find yourself staring at the empty chair where he used to sit, thinking, “why does this hurt so much? he was just a client… wasn’t he?”

thinking about.. the day you see rafayel with mc at a café. you weren’t stalking him—you tell yourself this over and over—but your steps falter the moment you spot them. she’s smiling at something he said, her laugh soft and genuine, and he’s leaning back in his chair, relaxed in a way you’ve rarely seen.

it hurts more than you expect. wasn’t this what he wanted? wasn’t this the whole point? your chest tightens as you force yourself to look away, swallowing the lump in your throat. you remind yourself that you were just his coach, that his happiness is all that matters. still, you can’t stop the wave of jealousy that washes over you.

you walk away before they notice you, but all the while, rafayel’s thoughts are miles away from mc.

he’s smiling, nodding along to whatever she’s saying, but his mind is filled with you. he remembers how your voice softens when you’re explaining something important, the way your eyes light up when you laugh. he thinks about how you believed in him even when he didn’t believe in himself, and the way your presence alone made him feel like he wasn’t so broken after all.

mc’s voice pulls him back to the present, but it only makes him feel more out of place. he realizes, with a pang of guilt, that he doesn’t care about impressing her anymore. the only person he wants to see, to be with, is you.

thinking about.. how despite everything, forces himself to love mc because she is his bride, his soulmate.

he’s standing in front of her, the weight of history pressing down on him. the truth that had once been buried beneath all his emotions rises to the surface—mc is his bride, his destined love, the one he was bound to all those years ago. and though his heart aches with the thought of how much he's changed, how much he’s grown through his time with you, rafayel forces himself to turn away from the feeling he’s found with you.

he doesn’t want to, but duty and fate are stronger than desire. he watches mc with a mask of calm, the same mask he wore when he first met you—detached, guarded, emotionally distant.

“ive changed, im ready now,” he tells her, but the words feel hollow, even to him. he’s not ready. but he’s been waiting for so long that he can't abandon what was promised.

you, on the other hand, are left with the silence of what could have been. the empty chair where he once sat no longer feels like an absence but a choice. you can’t deny the sorrow you feel, but you understand. rafayel made his choice, and it wasn’t you.

you let him go, quietly, silently. because even if he didn’t choose you, you know you’ll always carry a piece of him, the part that was real, the part that was always meant to be free.

at the end, you could only dream of what could've been, you imagine both of you sharing a life where he will joke about.. “you were a terrible coach. you made me fall for you instead of the person i was supposed to love.”

and how you will laugh and reply, “and you were the most stubborn client i’ve ever had. but i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

But I suppose some dreams aren't bound to become real.

rqyup © 2024 – do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my content; dividers by me; likes and reblogs are appreciated !

[spn-lesbian]

tlsp music videos are just a whole different kind of universe

[noxious-fennec]

3 years and I'm STILL IN THE FUCKING BUILDING... unbelievable... anyway happy re-bday to my pathetic cringefail politician

Alt ver. under the cut

***Massive disclaimer: i do not support the cc this is strictly about the fictional character

[fellhellion]

Something something the spot’s goofy antics distract from how dangerous his own entitlement and resentment is

[cherrysnax]

I don’t fear getting older, but I sure as hell don’t want to grow up

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao

I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?

Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.

I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x

a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.

“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”

You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”

Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”

Oh. My. God!

You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 

Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”

He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 

Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 

But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”

You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 

The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 

The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 

None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 

You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 

You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!

Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 

The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”

It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 

You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 

Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 

“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 

Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 

“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do. 

There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”

You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 

Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 

But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”

“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 

She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”

She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 

You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 

“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 

You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 

Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 

You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 

You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 

You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 

You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 

But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 

It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 

Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 

He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 

Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 

When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 

You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”

Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 

The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 

Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 

She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 

She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”

The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 

You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”

Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”

You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 

“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”

“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 

Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 

“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”

“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 

Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 

So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 

“What’re you doing?”

You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 

He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 

“I think that’d be best.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 

You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 

What the fuck?

It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 

He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 

Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 

And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 

He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 

He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 

He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 

Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 

Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 

Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 

You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 

But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 

You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 

You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 

You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 

“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”

It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?

Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 

“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 

“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 

But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 

Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”

If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.

“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 

He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 

“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 

The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”

He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”

You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 

Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”

“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 

Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 

“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 

It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”

“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 

The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 

You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 

You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 

You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 

You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 

You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 

Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 

It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 

It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 

“Has he made much progress yet?”

Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 

His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 

That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 

He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 

You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”

You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”

“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 

There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 

You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”

Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 

“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 

He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 

He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 

Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”

Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”

She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”

As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 

You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 

You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 

You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 

You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”

Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”

You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”

He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”

His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 

“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”

You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”

“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 

“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 

His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 

You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 

“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 

“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 

You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 

That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 

You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 

Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 

You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”

You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”

He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”

You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 

He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 

a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 

[luveline]

Hi idk if u have already written this if u have pls igonore but what about the first time bombshell reader calls Spencer beautiful?

fem, 1k

“Gideon has a new prodigy.” 

Your head rises of its own accord. “Yeah?” 

“He's younger than you. Twenty three, I think Hotch said. Fresh out of college, two degrees and working on a third? Or maybe he was getting his doctorate? I couldn't keep up.” Morgan shakes his head in disapproval. “Overeducated and under-experienced. He failed his physicals. The ones he took, anyways.” 

“Ooh, ouch. A baby on the team before me,” you joke with a smile. “Genius baby, but a baby.” 

Morgan smiles when you smile, he's too nice not to, but he picks up soon enough, crossing his arms where he's stood and wrinkling what was once a finely steamed suit jacket. “I don't know what Gideon's thinking.” 

“Does anyone ever know what he's thinking? What's Hotch say about it all?” 

Morgan reads what you're typing from over your shoulder and corrects a mistake. One day you won't need his help, but for now you take as much of it as you can get. You're not too proud to acknowledge when you mess up, you're a realist. Super sensible (in mind if not action). 

“Hotch lets Gideon do what he wants, mostly. What can you do when he's one of the originals?” Morgan leans heavily onto his desk by the forearms and shrugs. You’re similar in this regard; complain, move on. You're similar in other ways, too. That's why you get along. 

“Well, I want to meet this guy,” you say. “We'll be teammates just as soon as Strauss stops hating me. I'm one strategic boxed bouquet from a full pardon.” He laughs and touches your arm like he believes you. “Is he around?” 

“Here they are now.” 

You spin in Morgan's desk chair slowly. Jason Gideon is stalking through the office with his head in the contents of a manilla envelope, while a new face follows behind him talking a mile a minute. 

“Obviously,” you hear Gideon interrupt as they get close enough. “Agent Morgan can explain that to you. Don't overthink it, Spencer, just try to get through it.” 

He doesn't acknowledge you nor Morgan as he leaves Spencer and hurries up the steps leading to his and Hotch's offices. You aren't expecting much else from him. What little Gideon knows about you he doesn't like. If you ever get over the Strauss hurdle, it's him you'd have to convince next. You don't watch him cross the landing, your gaze focused on the man making his timid way toward you. Your lips part briefly, and then quirk into an overjoyed smile. 

“Oh, you're beautiful,” you say without thinking. 

He frowns at you. 

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, “This is Y/N L/N. She works in the sex crimes division. As you can imagine, we get a lot of crossover.” You stand, holding out your hand. “Y/N, this is Spencer Reid.” 

“I don't shake. Sorry.” 

You press your hand to your chest. “Oh, that's okay. I shouldn't assume…” Your voice melds into a silkiness that has his shapely brows furrowing further, “It's nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. You're really pretty, do you know that?” 

Spencer peeks at Morgan quickly, who laughs good-naturedly. “She's serious, Reid. She's not making fun of you.” 

“You'd know,” Spencer says. It isn't malicious, but it isn't exactly friendly, either.

You twist to frown at Morgan deeply. “Morgan, you're not being nice to him?” 

“I'm being plenty nice, sweetheart, but this is how it works. I gotta haze him a little.” 

“No, you don't.” You tip your cheek toward your shoulder to look at Spencer through your lashes. “He pretends to be worse than he is, I promise. But don't let him neg you, okay? You're smarter than he is–” 

“Hey.” 

“–and he's used to being the office pretty boy. It's jealousy, nothing else,” you finish. Spencer really is gorgeous now you're close enough to see his eyes. A brown like caramelised sugar tented by dark, dark eyelashes. When he smiles, the very slightest hint of teeth shows, and it makes him even prettier. You endeavour to make him smile again. “Sorry if I'm coming off a little strong. It's not my intention.” 

“She's just nervous. You have everything she wants,” Morgan says. 

You sigh forlornly. “Oh, doesn't he?” Spencer's confused pout is even cuter than his smile. “Getting into the BAU is about as easy as walking on water.” 

“For a human,” Spencer says. “Easier if you're smaller. Like a water strider.” 

There's a silence. Morgan is aghast, you think. You're in love. 

“Yeah?” you ask, stars in your eyes as his own spark to life. 

“Because water strider's can transfer their weight, but also due to their hydrofuge hairpiles. Their microhairs.” He catches himself, measuring your expression carefully. “Did you really wanna know?” 

“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee and tell me about it?” you ask. 

His lips part as yours had when you first saw him. 

He's prevented from answering as Hotch's office door opens and the man himself walks out near the railing. “Good, you’re here. I have something to talk to you about.” 

You grin at him. “I'd love to chat, Agent Hotchner, but I'm getting to know your new protégé.”

“I see.” He waits. 

You would ignore him —Hotch has a soft spot for you (or rather, he likes you enough to put up with you, which is more than can be said about other members of his division) and he'd shrug off your dismissal— but you're really keen to hear what he has to say. Perhaps Strauss has changed her mind about your proposed trail basis with the team. 

“I'm so sorry,” you say to Spencer, immediately re-dazzled by his pretty, lovely face. “It was really nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. Maybe next time you can tell me more about it.” 

You give Morgan a quick thank you for the help with your paperwork and trust him to log out of your emails. In your rush up the stairs, you hear a wisp of conversation. 

“Was she messing with me?” 

Morgan laughs. “No, kid. That's how she is.” 

"Oh... She's nice."

"You have no idea."

[ervotica]

27. kisses for cover at a party with poly!rosekiller. reader goes to evan to get a guy off you, he makes out with you, barty sees and is like "yay i wanna join" and then just devours you

ahhh i love them! poly!rosekiller x fem!reader, college!au ✩ 900 words

You slip beneath the handsome guy at the pub with practiced ease, dipping under his outstretched arm in an attempt to shake your unwelcome admirer of the evening.

To his credit, he doesn't flinch but rather curls his arm round the nape of your neck, tucking you into his shoulder in one fluid movement until you're mostly obscured. He dips his head low enough to murmur in your ear; his voice is like smooth, dark honey.

"Who you hiding from, lovely?"

"This bloke's been following me round all night," you admit, voice high and breathy. "He's still looking, I think. Will you- will you pretend to know me until he goes away?"

He grins and the sight almost blinds you; crinkled eyes and a soft smattering of freckles across his high cheekbones. Miles and miles of brown skin and a curly blonde mop that sits high on his head.

He really is lovely.

And if you'd met him under different circumstances, you'd be nervous for an entirely different reason.

"Consider it done, okay? No need to fret."

He tips his head lower until his nose brushes yours. You hold your breath in anticipation.

"Let's give the prick a show, yeah?"

Your insides flush white-hot as you wait for his lips to make contact. It's a languid sort of kiss, building in intensity as your mystery man flattens his tongue against your bottom lip. He palms at your neck, angling your face upward until you have no choice but to part your lips and let him lick into your mouth, soft and slow and deep.

You push up on your toes - encouraging him closer - and you feel the corners of his mouth tip up even as he indulges your wordless request.

The kiss ebbs and he pulls back. You bite your lip and try to pretend that he didn't just give you the best kiss of your life.

"I'm sorry," you say, cadence twinged with embarrassment. "I don't even know your name."

He smooths the pad of his thumb over your pencil lined eye and smiles, unperturbed. His expression is softer this time, something akin to fondness lingering in his eyes.

"Evan," he murmurs. "And you?"

"Y/N."

A weight settles at your back and you go rigid, pushing back into Evan's space with a startled gasp.

"It's okay, lovely girl," he placates with ease, as though he's known you for much longer than a few minutes. "This is Barty."

This boy is taller – sharper round the edges than Evan, but no less beautiful. His face is shrouded by thick, dark hair that contrasts so heavily with his pale skin it almost looks unnatural.

"Hi, pretty," he coos. "Oh, she is gorgeous, Ev. The gorgeous ones always love you."

"Hi," you almost whisper. You're suddenly even shyer under Barty's fervent gaze, red-hot at his rapt attention.

He folds at the waist and twirls one of your loose curls between his fingers. From here you can smell his breath, mint and vodka and something sweeter that lingers on the tip of his tongue.

He steps closer, right into your space until you're sandwiched snugly between the two of them.

"Do I get a kiss?" he asks, borderline pleading. Intense, for a man you've just met.

Your throat works around a thick swallow and you look down at your feet, suddenly overwhelmingly shy.

"Um..."

"Don't be jealous, babe," Evan placates, a lithe hand massaging teeny circles into your shoulder.

"I find a pretty little thing snogging my boyfriend and I'm supposed to not be jealous?"

You balk. Your eyes gloss over, and wet and wide and painfully apologetic.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'm really sorry."

"Shh." Evan loops an arm round your waist and tugs you neatly into his side. "He's teasing. He just wants a kiss, too, if you're willing to give it."

You can't deny that Barty is beautiful – all long, milky limbs and dark features. You nod tentatively.

"Okay."

Evan plants his chin in the juncture of your neck as Barty leans in, long fingers roaming the expanse of your waist with a fervour you've never felt before. Your stomach flips.

Barty's kiss is far more fervid. All tongues and clashing teeth as he angles his head to get more of your mouth on his– as though he wants to eat you whole.

You whine into his mouth when his hand settles on the dip of your spine and presses down, forcing you to arch up into him. There's not a part of you that isn't being touched in some way.

Especially not when Evan trails his lips along your pulse point and begins diligently sucking a bruise under your jaw.

Barty gets you by the nape of your neck and probes his tongue further into your mouth. He's persistent, flicking his tongue behind your front teeth until you gasp and open your mouth wider to grant him more access.

"There's a good girl," Evan says, voice rumbling against your back.

The trail of spit that stretches and bows between the two of you when Barty pulls back to get a good look at you has you feeling faint.

"Can we keep her, Ev?" Barty nuzzles his nose against the soft swell of your cheek.

"What do you say, angel? Can we keep you?"

You're too dazed to answer with more than a nod, curling your own arms around Barty's waist to keep him pressed against you.

[starsenha]

WET DREAMS / L.H

Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x roommate!dom!heeseung

Genre ◊ SMUT, roommates to ???

Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), cursing, neck kisses, nipple play, petnames, praising, dirty talk, fingering, kind of needy!hee, oral (f. receiving), bigdick!hee, unprotected sex (wrap it up ppl), rough

Word count ◊ 7,4k

Summary ◊ when heeseung moved in with you, Jake's friend, he knew it was a bad idea the moment he saw you for the first time because you were exactly his type. But it became even worse when he started making wet dreams about you.

a/n: not proofread, enjoy!

You were just another broke college student trying to survive the semester when your old roommate decided to move out, leaving you with a hefty rent and an empty room. Desperate for a new roommate, you posted an ad on your school's website. Enter Heeseung, a friend of Jake's – and since Jake was a solid guy, you figured Heeseung would be too. From the moment he moved in, it was clear this was going to be interesting. Heeseung was charming and easy to get along with, but there was one tiny problem: you were exactly his type. Beautiful, sexy, teasing, playful, but also cute and funny. After just a week, the tension between you two was undeniable. It would be a lie to say you didn't feel the same. The sparks were real, and living together was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

But everything became weird after that night: the night he had his first sex dream about you.

Heeseung lounged on the couch, a textbook open in his lap, though his mind was miles away. The apartment was quiet except for the occasional creak and hum from the old pipes. Heeseung was drifting off, and before he knew it, he was deep in a dream.

In his dream, the living room was dimly lit, bathed in the soft glow of a few strategically placed lamps. He heard the soft patter of your bare feet on the hardwood floor before he saw you. You were wearing nothing but his oversized shirt, the hem barely brushing the tops of your thighs. Your hair was tousled, and there was a mischievous sparkle in your eyes.

"Hey," you purred, leaning against the armrest of the couch. "Whatcha doing?"

Heeseung's breath hitched as he looked up at you, his mouth suddenly dry. "Just… studying," he managed to say, though his voice was thick with desire.

You sauntered closer, a playful smirk on your lips. "Mind if I join you?" Without waiting for a reply, you slid onto the couch, your leg brushing against his. Heeseung's pulse quickened as you leaned in, your lips so close to his ear that he could feel your warm breath.

"You know," you whispered, "I've noticed the way you look at me."

Heeseung swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. "I don't know what you're talking about."

You chuckled softly, your hand resting on his thigh, dangerously close to the edge of his shorts. "Oh, I think you do." Your fingers danced lightly over the fabric, teasing him. "I see the way your eyes linger."

His resolve crumbled, and he turned to face you, his hand cupping your cheek. "You're driving me crazy," he confessed, his voice a low growl.

"Good," you replied, your eyes dark with want. "Because I've been wanting you too."

He crashed his lips against yours, a hungry, desperate kiss that spoke of all the pent-up desire between you. You moaned into his mouth, your body pressing against his, and he could feel the heat radiating from you.

Heeseung's hands roamed over your body, slipping under the shirt to feel the smooth skin beneath. You arched into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. The air was thick with the scent of arousal, and Heeseung was lost in the sensation of you.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding up to cup your breast.

You whimpered, your back arching as you pushed into his hand. "I want you, Hee. I want you to take me right here."

Heeseung growled in response, his hand slipping between your thighs to find you wet and ready. He stroked you lightly, eliciting a gasp from your lips. "Fuck, you're so wet for me," he muttered, his voice rough with need.

"Only for you," you whispered, your hips bucking against his hand.

With a low groan, Heeseung positioned himself over you, his hands gripping your hips as he aligned himself with you. He entered you slowly, savoring the way you stretched around him, your moans music to his ears. "God, you feel so good," he breathed, his forehead resting against yours.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Faster, Heeseung," you begged. "I need you."

Heeseung complied, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. The couch creaked beneath you, but he didn't care. All that mattered was how delicious and incredible you felt around him. Your nails scratched down his back, leaving marks that would linger long after.

"You're fucking mine," Heeseung growled, his pace relentless. "Say it."

"I'm yours," you cried out, your body trembling as you neared the edge. "Only yours."

With a final, powerful thrust, Heeseung sent you spiraling into bliss, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. He followed soon after, his release mingling with yours as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing hard.

Heeseung jolted awake, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His body was slick with sweat, the sheets tangled around his legs. He groaned softly, feeling the unmistakable wetness in his shorts. He just came in his dream. His mind raced, the vivid images of you still fresh, your breathy moans echoing in his ears. He covered his face with his hands, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. "God, what's wrong with me?" he muttered to himself. "She's my roommate." Heeseung sat up, the room dimly lit by the early morning light filtering through the blinds. He ran a hand through his damp hair, trying to shake off the lingering arousal. But as he glanced at the closed door of your bedroom, he knew resisting his feelings for you was going to be harder than ever.

The next morning, Heeseung reluctantly dragged himself out of bed, the remnants of his dream still clinging to the edges of his mind. He took a deep breath, trying to push it all aside, and headed toward the kitchen, hoping a cup of coffee might clear his head.

As he turned the corner, the scent of something delicious hit him, and he saw you standing by the stove, humming softly as you flipped pancakes. You were wearing an oversized shirt that fell just below your thighs, the fabric worn and soft, clearly not yours. His heart skipped a beat as he realized it was probably Jake's shirt. The thought made him gulp, his throat suddenly dry as the dream came rushing back in vivid detail.

You turned when you heard him enter, your face lighting up with a smile that made his heart do a somersault. “Good morning, Hee,” you chirped, your voice sweet and playful as always. “I’m making breakfast! I hope you’re hungry.”

Heeseung swallowed hard, trying to keep his cool as he forced a smile. “Yeah… morning,” he mumbled, his voice embarrassingly shaky. He couldn’t meet your eyes, afraid that you’d somehow see right through him and know exactly what had been running through his mind all night.

You tilted your head slightly, noticing his unusual shyness. “Are you okay? You seem… off,” you asked, concern lacing your tone as you walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

Heeseung stiffened under your touch, his pulse quickening as the warmth of your fingers seeped through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. “I’m fine, just… didn’t sleep well,” he lied, hoping you wouldn’t press further.

You gave him a soft smile, squeezing his arm lightly before letting go. “Well, breakfast will help, I promise,” you said, gesturing to the pancakes with a grin. “And coffee’s ready too.”

Heeseung finally managed to meet your eyes, the sincerity and care in your gaze making his guilt twist even tighter in his chest. “Y-you didn’t have to, really,” he stammered, moving to pour himself a cup of coffee, hoping the familiar routine would steady his nerves.

“I wanted to,” you replied simply, your voice warm and kind. “You’ve been working so hard lately, I figured you could use a little pampering, seungie,” you added, using the nickname you’d given him that always seemed to melt his defenses a little.

Heeseung took a sip of the coffee, trying to hide his flushed cheeks behind the mug. “You’re too good to me,” he mumbled, the words half muffled by the rim of the cup.

You laughed softly, the sound light and cheerful, easing some of the tension in the room. “You deserve it,” you teased, reaching up to ruffle his hair playfully. “Besides, it’s fun spoiling you a little.”

Heeseung’s heart raced at the casual affection in your touch, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you had any idea what you were doing to him. “Th-thanks,” he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper as he sat down at the small kitchen table.

You joined him a moment later, sliding a plate of perfectly golden pancakes in front of him. “Eat up, Hee,” you said, sitting across from him with your own plate. “And don’t think too much today, okay? Just relax.”

Heeseung nodded, but as he cut into the pancakes, his mind was anything but relaxed. The sight of you in that oversized shirt, the smell of the warm breakfast you’d made just for him, and the way you called him “Hee” so sweetly—all of it was making it impossible to forget the dream.

He desperately needed a distraction. Anything to keep his mind from wandering back to the dream that was now seared into his memory. As you dug into your pancakes, he forced himself to speak, his voice a bit too loud as he asked, “So, um, how are your classes going?”

You looked up at him with a smile, happy to share. “Pretty good, actually! I’ve got this new project for my psychology class that I’m really excited about. We’re studying—”

But Heeseung barely heard a word. His eyes kept drifting to the way your shirt clung to your body, the soft curve of your waist, the smooth skin of your legs peeking out from under the hem. Every time you shifted in your seat, his thoughts betrayed him, flashing back to the way you felt in his dream, warm and soft beneath him. He could almost feel the ghost of your touch, the way you whispered his name in that breathy, needy tone.

“—and so I think I might need to interview a few people on campus,” you continued, oblivious to the turmoil inside him. “It’s going to be a lot of work, but I’m really looking forward to—Hee? Are you even listening?”

He blinked, realizing too late that he’d been caught staring. His cheeks flushed, and he quickly tore his gaze away, focusing on his plate like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Y-yeah, sorry, just… zoned out for a second,” he stammered, trying to play it off, but his voice betrayed him.

You smirked, sensing something was off but not quite sure what. “Uh-huh, sure you did,” you teased, leaning in a bit closer. “What’s up with you this morning? You’re acting kinda weird.”

“N-nothing’s up!” Heeseung blurted out a little too quickly, his pulse spiking as he forced a shaky laugh. “Just tired, that’s all.”

You raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced, but you decided to let it slide. “Okay, if you say so, Seungie,” you said, still smiling but with a hint of curiosity in your eyes. “But you know, if there’s something on your mind, you can talk to me.”

Heeseung nodded quickly, trying to avoid your gaze as he took another bite of pancakes, barely tasting them. “Thanks, I appreciate it,” he muttered, though his thoughts were spiraling again. He could feel your eyes on him, and when he glanced up, the sight of you, all sweet and concerned, sent a jolt of heat through him.

His eyes betrayed him, lingering on your lips, imagining how they had felt against his in the dream. He was falling back into that dangerous territory again, and his body reacted almost instantly. He felt the blood rushing south, his breath hitching as he realized he was getting hard just from looking at you.

Panic set in, and he knew he had to get out of there before you noticed. “I-I gotta go to class,” he stuttered suddenly, pushing his chair back with a scrape. “Don’t want to be late!”

You blinked in surprise at his abruptness. “But, Hee, it’s only 8:30. Your first class isn’t until—”

“I need to, uh, review some notes!” he interrupted, stumbling over his words as he stood up, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Before you could say anything else, he turned on his heel and practically fled the kitchen, his face burning with embarrassment. You watched him retreat to his room, a little confused by his behavior but deciding not to pry. “Okay, then…” you muttered to yourself, shrugging it off as one of those weird morning moods.

As Heeseung shut the door to his room behind him, he leaned against it, exhaling sharply. His heart was pounding, and he cursed under his breath. “What the hell is wrong with me?” he whispered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. But deep down, he knew the answer. It wasn’t just the dream—it was everything about you. And the more he tried to push those thoughts away, the stronger they seemed to become.

The entire morning, he couldn’t keep his thoughts from drifting back to you. No matter how hard he tried to focus on his classes, his mind kept replaying scenes from his dream, the way your body had felt beneath his, the sound of your voice whispering his name in that sexy, sultry voice. He just couldn't you out of his head and that was driving him crazy.

By lunchtime, he was a mess of pent-up frustration and confusion. He had barely touched his breakfast, and the thought of seeing you again made his stomach twist with a mix of guilt and desire. So when Jake texted him, suggesting they grab lunch together, Heeseung jumped at the chance to get out of the apartment, hoping that his friend could help take his mind off things.

They met up at a small café near campus, Jake already waiting at a table with his usual easygoing smile. “Yo, Hee! Over here!” Jake called out, waving him over.

Heeseung managed a weak smile as he sat down, trying to seem normal. But Jake was too observant, and the moment Heeseung dropped into the chair with a heavy sigh, Jake’s smile faltered slightly. “You okay, man? You look like shit.”

“I’m fine,” Heeseung lied, picking up the menu and pretending to scan it. But his hands were a little shaky, and Jake wasn’t buying it.

Jake leaned forward, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Uh-huh, sure you are. What’s going on?”

Heeseung sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing, really,” he insisted, but his voice lacked conviction.

Jake grinned, sensing that his friend was hiding something. “Come on, man. You can’t fool me. I’ve known you too long.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. “Let me guess… you had one of those dreams, didn’t you?”

Heeseung froze, his eyes widening as he looked up at Jake, who burst into laughter at his reaction. “I knew it! Dude, you’ve got ‘I had a sex dream’ written all over your face!”

Heeseung groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Seriously, Jake? Can you not?”

The younger chuckled, leaning in closer. “Oh, come on! You can tell me! Who was it with? Someone from class? Maybe that cute barista at the coffee shop near your place?”

His face burned with embarrassment. He shook his head, hoping Jake would just drop it, but his friend was relentless.

“No way, man. You’ve gotta tell me now,” Jake teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re not getting out of this one. I won’t judge, promise. Unless it was, like, a teacher or something, then maybe I’ll judge a little.”

Heeseung squirmed in his seat, trying to come up with an excuse, but Jake was too good at this. Finally, he gave up, knowing that Jake wouldn’t stop until he got an answer. “Fine, okay! It was… it was with her,” he muttered, his voice barely audible as he glanced around to make sure no one was listening.

Jake blinked in surprise, his grin faltering as he processed what Heeseung had said. “Wait… with who?”

Heeseung exhaled deeply, his heart racing. “With her… you know, my roommate.”

For a moment, Jake just stared at him, and then a slow, incredulous grin spread across his face. “No way. You had a sex dream about yn?”

Heeseung buried his face in his hands, his embarrassment reaching new heights. “Yeah, okay? I did. And now I can’t even look at her without… i don't know, thinking about it.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, dude. That’s intense. No wonder you’re all messed up this morning.”

Heeseung groaned again, feeling like he wanted to disappear under the table. “I can’t stop thinking about it, Jake. Every time I see her, I just… I remember how it felt, and it’s driving me crazy. I’m either embarrassed as hell or… or horny or something, and I don’t know what to do.”

Jake took a sip of his drink, clearly enjoying Heeseung’s misery a little too much. “Well, you know what they say,” Jake said, leaning back with a casual shrug. “You’ve got to fuck her to get it out of your system.”

Heeseung choked on his water, sputtering as he set the glass down with a clatter. “W-what? Jake, are you serious?”

Jake grinned, shrugging again. “Hey, I’m just saying. Sometimes the best way to stop obsessing over something is to just… do it. Maybe it’s your brain’s way of telling you that you need to, you know, make a move.”

Heeseung’s face was practically glowing red at this point, and he could barely meet Jake’s eyes. “I can’t just… I mean, we’re roommates! And it’s not like she feels the same way.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, giving Heeseung a knowing look. “You sure about that? I’ve seen the way she looks at you, man. She’s always so playful with you, always teasing. Maybe she’s just waiting for you to make the first move.”

Heeseung shook his head, his mind spinning. “I don’t know, man. It’s just… it’s complicated. And I don’t want to mess things up between us.”

Jake nodded, his expression softening a bit. “I get it. But you can’t keep torturing yourself like this. If you really can’t handle it, maybe you need to talk to her. Or, you know, find a way to cool off before you drive yourself completely insane.”

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah… maybe you’re right,” he admitted, though the thought of actually doing anything about it made him nervous as hell.

Jake chuckled, giving him a pat on the back. “Whatever you do, just remember I’m here to help, even if it’s just to give you shit about it later.”

Heeseung managed a small smile, grateful for Jake’s support despite the teasing. But as they finished their lunch, he couldn’t shake the lingering tension inside him, knowing that sooner or later, he’d have to face the feelings he was trying so hard to ignore.

The day wore on and he just couldn’t get Jake’s advice out of his head. The idea of just taking the plunge, of letting himself have what he so desperately wanted, seemed almost logical in his mind, twisted as it was with frustration and desire. Maybe, just maybe, if he gave in and finally fuck you, he could finally get you out of his system and things would go back to normal. But every time he even thought about it, an overwhelming sense of dread and guilt would wash over him.

The next few days were torture. Every time Heeseung saw you, you were just so effortlessly hot and beautiful, it made his resolve crumble. Like when you walked around the apartment in those tiny shorts and a tank top that hugged your curves perfectly, or when you’d smile at him, that playful, teasing glint in your eyes that drove him crazy. He couldn’t bring himself to make a move, not when the thought of losing your friendship or making things awkward between you weighed heavily on him.

So, instead of facing his feelings, Heeseung did what he thought was the next best thing—he avoided you like the plague.

Whenever he heard you coming down the hallway, he’d quickly retreat to his room, shutting the door quietly behind him. If you were in the kitchen, he’d grab a snack later, waiting until you left. If you sat on the couch to watch TV, he’d suddenly remember something he had to do in his room. It was ridiculous, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it.

You, of course, noticed almost immediately. The first time you called out to him as you walked into the living room, he barely acknowledged you, muttering a quick “hey” before disappearing into his room. You frowned, staring after him with confusion etched on your face.

At first, you thought maybe he was just busy with schoolwork, but when it happened again and again, you started to worry. Heeseung wasn’t the type to just ignore you. You two had always been close, laughing and joking around, but now it felt like there was a wall between you that hadn’t been there before.

One evening, after another day of dodging you, you finally cornered him. Heeseung had just come out of the bathroom, hair still damp from his shower, when you caught him in the hallway.

“Hee, what’s going on with you?” you asked, your tone a mix of concern and frustration.

Heeseung froze, his hand still on the doorknob of his bedroom. “W-what do you mean?” he stammered, not daring to look at you.

“You know exactly what I mean,” you pressed, crossing your arms as you took a step closer. “You’ve been avoiding me for days now. Did I do something to upset you?”

He finally looked at you then, and the sight of your worried expression made his heart ache. “No, you didn’t do anything,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s not you, it’s… it’s me.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “That’s the oldest excuse in the fucking book, Heeseung. Seriously, what’s going on? We used to hang out all the time, and now it’s like you can’t stand to be around me or something.”

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to come up with something, anything, to say that would make sense. "Look, can we talk about it later? I'm really tired right now," he started making his way to the kitchen.

“No, don't you run away from me, Lee Heeseung,” you called after him, your voice tinged with anger as you followed him into the kitchen. “I’m done with the vague answers and the weird behavior. I want to know what’s really going on!”

Heeseung stopped in his tracks, his hand gripping the counter's edge as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “I told you, it’s nothing; I'm just tired,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes.

“Tired? Seriously? That’s all you’ve got?” You stepped closer, your frustration boiling over. “You’ve been avoiding me for days, acting like I’m some kind of stranger, and now you’re telling me it’s ‘nothing’? What the fuck?”

Heeseung turned around to face you, his jaw clenched as he tried to find the right words, but they kept slipping away. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I just… I can’t…,” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You can’t what?” you pressed, your patience running thin. “What’s so horrible that you can’t even look me in the eyes anymore?”

Heeseung’s frustration finally reached its breaking point. The tension, the guilt, the overwhelming desire—it all came crashing down at once. “I’ve been avoiding you because every single time I lay my fucking eyes on you, I just want to fuck your brains out!” he snapped, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

The room fell into a heavy silence. Your eyes widened in shock, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to process what he had just said. Heeseung immediately regretted the outburst, the rawness of his confession hanging in the air like a storm cloud. He sighed deeply, cursing under his breath as he ran both hands through his hair, looking anywhere but at you.

“Shit… I didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” he muttered, his voice filled with a mixture of frustration and regret. “It’s just… it’s been driving me crazy. I had this dream, and it was so real, and ever since then, I can’t stop thinking about you like that.”

You finally found your voice, though it was tinged with disbelief. “You’ve been avoiding me, acting like I don’t exist, just because you had a sex dream about me?”

Heeseung nodded, his shoulders slumping as he braced himself for whatever you might say next. “Yeah… I know it sounds messed up, but it’s true. And every time I see you, it just makes it worse. I didn’t want to make things weird between us, but I ended up doing exactly that.”

You let out a laugh, but it was devoid of humor, more of an expression of sheer incredulity. “So let me get this straight,” you said slowly, needing to confirm you weren’t misunderstanding. “You’ve been avoiding me, treating me like I’ve got the plague, all because you want to fuck me?”

Heeseung winced at your bluntness, but he couldn’t deny it. “Yeah… I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair to you. I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

You shook your head, your emotions a chaotic mix of anger, frustration, and something else that you hadn’t fully processed yet. “You know, hee, you could’ve just asked,” you said, your voice carrying a hint of sarcasm.

Heeseung looked up at you, shocked, as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. “Wait, what?”

“You could’ve just asked me,” you repeated, crossing your arms and looking him dead in the eye. “And I wouldn’t have said no.”

For a moment, Heeseung just stared at you, his mind struggling to comprehend what you were saying. “You’re kidding… right?”

“No, I’m not,” you replied, your tone steady and serious. “You’ve been making things weird all by yourself when you didn’t have to. If you’d just been upfront with me instead of avoiding me, we could’ve dealt with this a lot sooner.”

Heeseung was at a loss for words. The idea that you might actually want him too had never seriously crossed his mind, not like this. “I… I didn’t think…” he started, then trailed off, still trying to wrap his head around it.

You sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement coloring your expression. “Well, now you know. So what are you going to do about it?”

Heeseung swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized the door you’d just opened for him. The air between you was thick with tension, but this time it wasn’t just from frustration or anger. It was something more, something that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

He took a tentative step closer, his eyes locked on yours. “Are you sure?” he asked softly, needing to know that you were serious.

You nodded, your gaze steady and unwavering. “I’m sure, seungie. But only if you’re ready to stop running away and actually talk to me about what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Heeseung’s breath hitched, his thoughts racing as he looked at you, really looked at you. The playful, teasing side of you, the warmth and care you always showed him, the way you were looking at him now—it all made his desire for you flare even hotter.

“I’m done running,” he said quietly, but with conviction. “But… can we take this slow? I don’t want to screw things up.”

You smiled softly, the tension easing just a little. “Slow is good,” you agreed, stepping closer until you were just inches apart. “But maybe, just this once, we can forget about slow?”

Heeseung’s pulse quickened, and with a shaky breath, he closed the remaining distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with yearning.

“Then stop fucking talking and show me,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his as you finally closed the gap, giving in to the moment that had been building between you for far too long.

The moment your lips met, it was as if a dam had burst, releasing all the tension that had been building between you two for days. Heeseung wasted no time, his hands immediately finding your waist and pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you gasped into the kiss, giving him the perfect opportunity to deepen it.

He took control, his lips moving over yours with a hunger that left you breathless. He tilted his head slightly, angling the kiss just right as his tongue slipped past your lips, exploring your mouth with a fervor that made your knees weak. You moaned softly, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, clinging to him as he backed you up against the kitchen counter.

The edge of the counter dug into your back, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the way Heeseung was kissing you, his lips demanding, yet so incredibly soft against yours. He broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against your lips, “You taste so fucking good,” before diving back in, his hands gripping your hips tighter as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You responded eagerly, matching his intensity as you kissed him back, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Heeseung pressed his body against yours, pinning you against the counter, the heat between you growing with every second. His hands roamed up your sides, brushing over your ribs before settling on your waist again, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your skin.

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” Heeseung muttered, his voice rough with desire as he broke the kiss for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.

“I think I have some idea,” you whispered back, your voice just as breathless as you stared up at him, your eyes half-lidded with want.

Heeseung’s eyes darkened at your words, and with a low growl, he claimed your lips again, his kiss more demanding this time. He pressed you harder against the counter, his hands sliding down to grip the backs of your thighs, lifting you slightly so you were perched on the edge. The movement made you gasp, and Heeseung took the opportunity to kiss down your jawline, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck.

You tilted your head back, giving him more access as he nipped at the sensitive skin just below your ear, his breath hot against your neck. “Hee…” you moaned softly, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

Heeseung groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your skin as he kissed his way back up to your lips. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, but no less intense. He took his time, savoring the feel of your lips against his, his tongue teasing yours in a way that made your heart race.

You could feel the hard edge of the counter digging into your thighs, but it only added to the intensity of the moment. Heeseung’s hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a mixture of reverence and desperation, as if he was trying to commit every inch of you to memory. When his hands found their way under your shirt, brushing against your bare skin, you gasped, arching into his touch, a soft moan escaping from your lips.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice thick and low. "All shy and putty in my hands, and I haven't even touched you." You shivered at his words, your hands clutching at his shirt as you tried to steady yourself. He kissed his way back to your ear, biting softly your earlobe. "What's the matter, baby? I thought you were the confident one," he smirked, his lips brushing against your ear.

You wanted to answer, but before you could, his lips found your sweet spot just below your ear, and a loud moan escaped from your lips. You could feel him smirk against your skin as he started nibbling and sucking that spot. You closed your eyes, your head tilting to the side to give him all the room he wanted to do whatever he wanted. "God, you're so sensitive," he murmured against your neck, his breath hot and rigged.

You whimpered, arching your back to press closer to him. "Hee, please..."

He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing lightly over your inner thighs, teasing you. "Please, what, baby?" Use your words."

You shivered at the pet name, your teeth capturing your lower lip to avoid any more moans slipping from your mouth. "Please, touch me," your voice came out more whiny than you intended, but at that point, you didn't even care.

His eyes darkened, and he captured your lips once again in a hard kiss. "Good girl," he murmured against your mouth, his hands slipping your shirt before finally pulling it over your head, revealing your bare chest to him. His hands immediately flew to your tits, caressing your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, his lips trailing down your jawline. "So perfect for me."

Gathering your courage, you reached out, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He raised his arms, allowing you to pull it over his head and discard it on the floor. Your hands roamed over his toned torso, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin. You marveled at the contrast of his strength and the gentle way he had been touching you moments before.

Heeseung's breath hitched as your fingers traced the lines of his abs, but he quickly regained his composure, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory gleam. "Enjoying yourself?" he teased, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your hands still exploring his body. Heeseung smirked, leaning in to capture your lips in another searing kiss. As he kissed you, one of his hands slipped between your legs, finding your core outside of your shorts. He hissed, finding you already wet and ready for him.

"You're so wet for me," he murmured against your lips, his fingers brushing over your sensitive folds. "I barely have to touch you, and you're already this fucking needy."

You whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you. "Heeseung, please," you begged, your voice trembling with need.

He finally took your shorts and panties off, his fingers finding your bare cunt. His index parted your folds, his eyes fixed on your face to catch every little reaction. Then, without a word, he slipped two fingers inside you, his thumb finding your clit. He started moving them roughly, setting a relentless pace as you gasped for air.

"Is that what you wanted, baby?" he asked, his voice a low growl as the wet sound of your pussy filled the kitchen.

"Fuck, yes, hee, just like that," you moaned, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support.

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust. Your brain quickly turned to mush, and you found it increasingly difficult to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. Every time you tried to speak, it came out as a garbled moan.

"Fuck, look at you," Heeseung mocked gently, his eyes filled with a mix of adoration and amusement. "You're already a mess, and I'm just using my fingers. What are you going to do when I'll have my cock inside you, mmh?" You whined in response, your hole sucking him in even harder as you clenched around him. He smirked at that, his lips dropping beside your ear as he whispered. "You like the idea of my cock stretching your little hole, yeah?"

You let out a loud moan, your eyes closing shut as you threw your head back. Your body started to shake as he continued to work you over with his fingers. "You gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispered, his thumb circling your clit with increased pressure.

You nodded, not trusting your voice at that moment. And with a final rough thrust of his fingers, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body convulsing with pleasure as he continued to move his fingers inside you, drawing out every last bit of your release.

Heeseung smirked, watching you come undone beneath him. "So beautiful," he murmured, finally slowing his movements. "I love seeing you like this."

He looked at you, eyes filled with an insatiable hunger as he licked his fingers clean. You were still reeling from your orgasm, your body trembling with aftershocks when he suddenly knelt down in front of you, his hands gently parting your thighs.

"Hee, what are you—" you began, but he silenced you with a heated look.

"I need to taste you," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I need to hear those beautiful little sounds you make, you can do that for me, right?."

Before you could respond, Heeseung's mouth was on you, his tongue parting your folds and delving into your sensitive cunt. You gasped, your hands flying to his hair as a surge of pleasure shot through you. His tongue moved with a skilled precision, flicking over your clit before dipping back down to slurp all your juices.

"Oh my god, Hee," you moaned, your head falling back as you surrendered to the sensations.

He groaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine. He was like a starved man, devouring you with an intensity that left you breathless. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he licked and sucked, his tongue exploring every inch of you. You'd never had someone eat you out like this before, so focused, so determined to bring you pleasure. Heeseung's mouth was relentless, his tongue circling your clit before sucking it gently, making you cry out in ecstasy.

"You're so sweet," he murmured between licks, his voice filled with admiration. "So perfect."

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you rode the waves of pleasure he was giving you. "Fuck, please don't stop," you begged, your voice a mix of desperation and bliss.

Heeseung's response was a deep, guttural moan, his tongue moving faster, more insistently. He was already addicted to your taste, the way your body responded to his every touch. Your moans and whimpers were music to his ears, driving him to push you further, to see just how much pleasure he could give you.

Heeseung's hands moved from your thighs to your hips, lifting you slightly to get a better angle. His tongue plunged deeper, his nose brushing against your clit, sending electric shocks through your entire body.

"Oh, God, hee!" you cried out, your back arching off the counter as you felt another orgasm building rapidly. "I'm so-so close."

Heeseung groaned again, his mouth working more fervently, his tongue lashing against your most sensitive spots. "Come for me, baby," he murmured against you, his voice a low, sultry command. "I want to taste you when you come."

That was all it took. With a final, desperate cry, you came undone, your body shuddering violently as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Heeseung didn't stop, his mouth continuing to work you through your orgasm, drinking in every moan, every whimper.

You were a quivering mess, your mind blank with ecstasy as Heeseung finally pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and filled with satisfaction. He stood up, his hands firmly gripping your hips, and you could see the raw need in his gaze. He tugged at his sweatpants and boxers, hastily pushing them down in one go, and your breath hitched when you saw him. He was big, and your mouth watered at the sight of him.

"Fuck," you whispered, eyes wide with a mix of desire and apprehension.

He noticed your reaction, a smirk playing on his lips. "Like what you see?" he teased, his confidence bolstered by your response.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're... you're so big, Hee."

Heeseung's smirk widened, and he leaned in to kiss you deeply, his hands trailing down to position himself at your entrance. "Don't worry, baby. I'll make it fit," he murmured against your lips, his voice dripping with promise.

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Are you sure? I don't know if..."

Heeseung's hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips. "I'm sure," he said softly, his eyes locking with yours. "I'll go slow at first. Just tell me if it hurts, okay?"

You nodded, your heart racing as he began to push inside you. The initial stretch was intense, and you gasped, your hands clutching his shoulders. Heeseung moved slowly, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to his size.

"You're doing so well," he whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Just relax for me, baby."

You took a deep breath, willing your body to relax as he continued to slide into you. The sensation was overwhelming, but the look of pure desire and care in his eyes made you feel safe. Finally, he was fully seated inside you, and he paused, giving you a moment to adjust.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, his forehead resting against yours. "So tight."

You whimpered, your body clinging to him, feeling so full. "You're so big, seungie."

He kissed you softly, his hands caressing your sides. "Just tell me when you're ready, baby."

After a few moments, the initial discomfort began to fade, replaced by a deep, aching need. "I'm ready," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Heeseung's eyes darkened, and he pulled back slightly before thrusting into you with a powerful, rough stroke. You cried out, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. "F-fuck," you moaned, the intensity of his movements sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

He set a brutal pace, his hips pounding into yours. "You like that?" he growled in your ear, his voice rough and filled with desire. "You like being fucked like this?"

"Yes, f-fuck," you gasped, your mind going blank with pleasure. "So good. So fucking good."

Heeseung's lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice possessive. "Only mine. Say it."

"Only yours," you echoed, your voice barely more than a whimper.

"Good girl," he praised, his hands gripping your hips harder as he pounded into you. "You're taking me so well."

You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, and you felt yourself spiraling out of control. "Heeseung, I... I can't..."

Heeseung's hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. "Come for me, baby," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

With a final, desperate cry, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and gasping for breath. Heeseung followed soon after, his own release hitting him hard as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning your name.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Heeseung held you close, his forehead resting against yours. "That was fucking incredible," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You smiled weakly, still catching your breath.Heeseung chuckled softly, his hands gently caressing your sides. "We should definitely do this more often."

You laughed, your heart swelling with affection for him. "I think I'd like that."

[fireinmoonshot]

the hard way | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Tyler Owens have a bad habit of butting heads, but all it takes is one hint of jealousy and things change in the blink of an eye. Warnings: Tyler is lowkey an asshole, but reader can be too, there is a creepy guy that tries to come onto reader and puts his hands on her. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched the original Twister movie today and got this idea while watching it and then it all just came out of my head onto the page and here we have it! I had so much fun writing this, it's honestly one of my favourite Tyler fics I've done so far. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the love on my Twisters fics so far!

“Oh, here we go again,” Boone says, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you walking towards Tyler, your laptop in your hands. Judging by the look on your face, you have something fairly important to show Tyler – and Boone knows Tyler won’t be happy about it.

Dani sighs beside him, her legs kicked up on their cooler from their spot at the motel. It’s late at night and none of the storms had turned into anything today, leading to a very long day for all of you. You’d driven hundreds of miles only to end up with no new footage.

“How long do you think it’ll take him to get mad?” Dani asks.

“He’s just spotted her and he already looks annoyed, so I’d guess straight away.”

They watch on from a distance as you finally reach Tyler. You move to stand beside him so he can see the screen of your laptop. “I was right after all,” you glance up at him. “See this? That storm was never going to amount to anything and even the radar showed it dying out. We could have saved ourselves half a tank of gas and a few hours if you’d listened to me.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and looks away from your laptop, trying to focus on not burning the dinner he’s been cooking the team on the barbecue that the motel has. “Okay, I get it. But I can’t go back in time and listen to you, so will you just drop it? I’ve had to listen to this all day. You’re drivin’ me insane, sunshine’.”

“Well, if you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have kept bugging you about it, T.”

It’s never been smooth sailing between you and Tyler. You get along most of the time, sure – you have to when you’re working together. But you also tend to butt heads more often than not. With both of you having studied meteorology, you’re the only two members of the team with formal training, which means you often have differing opinions on your interpretations of the weather and the forecasts. 

You disagree with Tyler, he disagrees with you and the rest of the Wranglers watch on, both amused and irritated at the fact that the two of you just can’t seem to work together sometimes. There are, of course, times when you can deal with it. But today… well, Boone had been glad to get out of the car at the end of the day and distance himself from the two of you.

He swears he’s not riding with you both tomorrow.

“If I listen to you now, will you stop bugging me still?” Tyler looks at you.

With a scowl, you slam your laptop shut and hold it under your arm. “If you listen to me tomorrow, then I might stop bugging you. I am not having another failed day chasing because of your inability to choose which storms to follow.”

Tyler sighs. “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”

You huff and walk away, heading back over to the rest of the team. You grab a drink out of the cooler and sit down on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck, sitting your laptop beside you. The other members of the team watch you cautiously, like you’re a brewing storm that could become a tornado at any moment.

“Anyone wanna take my spot in the truck tomorrow? I’ll ride elsewhere,” you offer.

Boone stares at you for a moment. “You promise?”

You make a face at Boone and take a sip of your drink. “Yes, I promise,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to listen to all that today. God, he just drives me up the wall sometimes. I don’t know how he expects us to continue running this damn Youtube channel or get the research we need if we don’t get the right storms to chase.”

“Hey, no Tyler talk while you’re over here,” Dani pipes up. “This is a safe zone.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter, lapsing into silence just as Dexter, Lily and Kate re-join the group, having headed upstairs to their rooms to refresh themselves before coming back down for dinner. You watch as Kate heads over to help Tyler out.

By the time the two of them bring dinner over to you, you’ve managed to cool off a fair amount and are now discussing the forecast for tomorrow with Dexter, who is leant up against the truck, looking at your laptop over your shoulder. 

“Burgers are ready,” Kate announces as they place the tray of them on the small camp table that someone had set up earlier in the evening. “We worked real hard on them.”

You’re surprised when Tyler picks up two paper plates, puts a burger on each of them and then walks over to you, handing one of them to you before taking the seat beside you on the tailgate. 

“Truce?” He says, looking across at you. “I’m sorry ‘bout today, I mean it.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You promise you didn’t poison my burger?”

Tyler chuckles. “No, not unless Kate put something in there that I didn’t see.”

“Okay, then. Truce,” you nod. “But I’m not riding with you tomorrow.”

He raises his eyebrows just as he takes a bite of his burger. It takes him a few moments to reply, refusing to speak with a mouth full of food – something his mother had instilled in him from a very young age. “What? Why? You’re not still that mad at me, are you?”

“No, I just need a change of scenery or I’m worried I’ll run you off the road. I saw the way you got today when you got distracted cause I was arguing with you. It’ll be good for us to cool off and get a break from each other.”

From across the group, Boone adds “I think you just want to argue over the radio, actually. That’s what you mean by a change of scenery, isn’t it?” His voice is teasing.

“Funny,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“You can ride with me and Lily tomorrow,” Kate changes the subject ever so slightly. “Boone can ride with Tyler. Just like old times, right?”

You look at Tyler, expecting him to be happy with the idea of you riding with the others tomorrow so you don’t bother him all day, but instead he looks concerned. His eyebrows are knotted together and the look on his face shows he’s displeased. 

“Ty?”

He blinks and the look disappears off of his face. “Yeah, go for it. Boone and I’ll be right, hey buddy?” He raises his beer in a cheers to Boone, who does the same thing. “Don’t miss me too much from the other car though.”

“Me, missing you? I think you should try not to miss me, T.”

Tyler grins. “Easier said than done, sunshine.”

The following morning it feels strange to be getting into a car that’s not Tyler’s red truck. It’s your usual mode of transport. Your seat is the passenger seat and it has been for most of the chases in the past, except for ones where footage was the primary purpose of the chase and not research. 

You’re just lifting your bag up into the trunk of Lily’s car when Tyler swoops in behind you and helps you lift it – as if it weighed more than it actually did, as if you were actually having trouble with it. You turn around, eyebrows raised. 

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Tyler grins. “Haven’t had a sudden change of heart, I see?”

“Not happening,” you smile in return. “You’ll be fine without me. You and Boone will be able to catch up like old times. And don’t worry, if we disagree on something, I’ll be sure to let you know about it over the radio anyway. I have Kate on my side today.”

Tyler laughs. “Oh, double whammy. I’m in danger today, aren’t I?”

Kate appears from the other side of the car, putting her own bag in beside yours. She wraps an arm around your shoulders and shoots a smile at Tyler. “You’re gonna regret letting her ride in a car other than yours today, Tyler. A day driving with Lily and I… she’s gonna be a changed woman by the time she gets back in your truck tomorrow.”

“That’s if I even want to get back in his truck, Kate.”

He stares at the two of you and then shakes his head and laughs to himself. “Okay, I’m getting Boone and getting out of here before Lily shows up and you guys gang up on me even more,” he turns and heads for his truck. “Drive safe, all right?”

You and Kate both laugh, watching him as he walks towards his truck, Boone joining him on the way there. Dani and Dexter aren’t far behind him, hopping into the van, and Lily comes bounding down the steps after them, her bag over her own shoulder. 

“We ready for today, ladies!?” She calls loudly from across the lot. 

“Let’s do this!” Kate matches her energy.

You take the back seat, feeling incredibly out of place in the car as Lily starts the engine and follows the other two cars out of the parking lot, leaving the motel behind. It’s smaller in this car compared to Tyler’s, and as you pull your laptop out of your bag and get the radar up on it to get another look at the storm you’d all chosen earlier in the morning, you wonder if you made the right choice.

You’ve been on the road for two hours, heading for a storm north of you when you look down at the radar again and see that it’s gotten smaller – not becoming the larger storm you were all hoping for and certainly not likely to produce a tornado. It’s your job to reach up and grab the radio from between Lily and Kate in the front seats to inform the others. 

“The storm’s shrinking, I think we should pull into a gas station and regroup,” you tell the others through the radio, already preparing yourself for the response.

It comes through almost instantly. Tyler, laughing, then his voice: “What was that you were saying to me last night about listening to you? Guess you’re off your game, darlin’.”

Kate grabs the radio off of you before you can say anything else. “Okay, we all chose this storm together, Tyler. Let’s not throw accusations around and not over the radio.” 

You’re unaware that in the truck, Boone is telling Tyler off for the exact same thing. 

“Thanks, Kate,” you reach forward and squeeze her shoulder as she hands the radio back to you. “Next gas station, let’s pull in and we can all look at the radar together. I don’t think we’re gonna get anything massive in the time it takes us to regroup.” 

“You sure about that, sunshine?” Tyler’s voice comes through the radio again. “I don’t know if we can trust your ability to forecast the weather anym–” His voice cuts off abruptly.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” You hear Boone say shortly after. “We’ll see you at the gas station.”

You give the radio back to Kate and lean back in your seat, sighing as you look out the window at the blue sky and the clouds scattered around it. How could he have been perfectly tolerable last night during dinner, help you with your bag this morning and yet be so irritating? You hadn’t even said anything to spur him on. 

It’s about an hour later by the time you reach the next gas station and you’re grateful when you can get out and stretch your legs. Lily and Kate both head for the bathroom while you head inside to order some drinks and food for the three of you. You don’t bother to wait for Tyler when you see him hop out of his truck. 

He makes his way up to you once you’re inside, waiting for your drinks to be made.

“How’s the other car goin’?” Tyler asks, nudging your shoulder gently.

You look at him, arms crossed over your chest, and look away, choosing to say nothing.

“Come on, sunshine. You’re seriously ignoring me? Where’s that fiery attitude of yours? Just cause you’re in another car doesn’t mean you can’t give me shit right back when I give it to you,” he tries. 

But you’re not interested in the slightest. His words had been uncalled for – especially when you’d moved to another car in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, and he’d just brought it right back up.

The waitress slides the drinks over the counter and calls your name just as Lily and Kate exit the bathroom, heading straight for you. 

“Can you guys watch my drink? I need to go grab my phone from the car,” you tell them.

Lily and Kate happily take your drink, moving to stand beside Tyler and make conversation with him as you head back outside to grab your phone. You don’t really need it that badly, it’d be perfectly fine to leave in the car till you headed back outside anyway, but it was your way of getting out of a conversation with Tyler. Not that it really was much of a conversation anyway.

When your phone is in hand, you make no hurry to walk back inside the gas station. You make note of several other storm chasers in the parking lot and filling up their cars with gas. It’s a popular stretch of road for chasers and you assume several of them had been chasing the same storm as you and had realised it was going to be a bust.

You almost bump into one of them as you’re heading back inside. You recognise him instantly. He’s in one of the more well known teams, one of the Wranglers rivals and one of the many other groups of chasers that think you guys are just in it for the money you get from the Youtube videos rather than a genuine love of weather and chasing.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Tornado Wrangler,” Xavier flashes a smile at you and holds the door open for you to enter, following in after you. “Bit of tension in the group, I hear.”

You frown, unsure about his words meaning, when he continues.

“One of my guys was switching frequencies in the van and got yours on accident. We, uh, we heard your little… disagreement with Owens,” he admits. “I promise we weren’t listening in on purpose. That’s the last thing I’d wanna do. But y’know… open channels and all.”

You can’t help but cringe at his words and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Xavier. It’s nothing a little time and a successful storm won’t fix, anyway. I think everyone in the chasing community knows Tyler and I butt heads nearly every day.” 

“Butt heads? Honey, that sounded a lot more like an intentional insult to me.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, Tyler wouldn’t do that.”

Hearing that Xavier thought Tyler’s words were an insult is the kick you need to make you realise that they weren’t. Tyler was the type to get on your nerves, that was true. But the type to intentionally insult you in an attempt to hurt your feelings? He would never do that.

Xavier gives you an unimpressed look. “Listen, honey – we have a spot available in our team and it’s yours if you want it,” He reaches out and places a hand on your waist, almost making you flinch at the action. You resist the urge to hit his hand off. “You have the degree to prove you know what you’re doing and I think we both know you’re wasting your time with the Wranglers. Especially proven that their leader seems to treat you like something on the bottom of his shoe… me, on the other hand, well… I’d treat you better.”

You try your hardest to control your expression, not wanting to come across the wrong way or to make a scene in front of everyone in the gas station – your team, his team and the several other teams and general patrons all milling about and eating their mid-day feed. Even though you feel uncomfortable as all hell and would love nothing more than to deliver a swift punch to his nose and book it straight back out the door. 

“Listen, Xavier,” you take a step closer to him and almost cringe at the way his lips move up into a smile at your closer proximity. “I wouldn’t join your team if it was the last storm chasing team on earth. If you think I’m wasting my time with my team, I hate to think how much time I’d waste on yours. I’ve seen how much time you spend looking in your car mirrors. If you didn’t know, the tornadoes don’t actually care how your hair looks.” You reach up and pat his chest condescendingly. “And if I hear you say one more bad word about Tyler Owens, I’ll make sure the whole chasing community knows about what happened here today, how you tried to come onto me just to get me to join your team. Trust me, it won’t end well for you.”

You don’t waste anymore time in removing his hand from your waist and leaving him standing alone as you head back over to your group. Kate and Lily are watching you from right where you left them, though Tyler isn’t with them anymore. 

Kate hands you your drink. “You all right? What the hell was that?”

“Just Xavier being an asshole,” you mutter, risking a look over your shoulder to see that he’s gone to join the rest of his group. You hope he’s seething and embarrassed by your words. “I dealt with him though.” 

You can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling still running through your body, though. You try and take a sip of your coffee to calm yourself down. It doesn’t work, really only making you feel more jittery and strange. 

“I’m gonna go wait out at the car, when you guys are all done we can check the radar together and decide where to go from here, all right? You guys can tell the others?” You ask.

Kate nods. “Yeah, course. You sure you’re okay, though?”

You look between her and Lily, noticing the worried looks on their faces, and try and put a smile on your own face to stop them from worrying so much. “Yeah, I promise. It’s just packed to the brim in here and I wanna get some fresh air after all the driving.”

You can feel Kate and Lily’s eyes on you as you leave, coming out the door you’d only just come inside through. You make a beeline straight to the car, taking a deep breath, grateful for the cool breeze on your skin and the warmth of the sun above you. The uncomfortable feeling starts to fade as you open the door to the car and climb up, putting your coffee in the cup holder and leaving your feet hanging out the door as you start to scroll on your phone to distract yourself. 

It’s only a few minutes later when someone stands in the way of the sun and casts a shadow over you. You blink up to meet Tyler’s eyes. He stands in the doorway of the truck, a hand on his hip.

“Already scouting a new group to join cause of me, are you?” He starts, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and come out to see you and freakin’ Xavier all close? When the hell did that happen?”

You let out a huff and squeeze your eyes shut. “Seriously, T, can you not do this right now?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to insult you over the radio, sunshine. Usually, you give it right back to me, so that’s what I was expecting, and I know I took it too far – Boone said as much after we put the radio down. I really am sorry about it.”

You open your mouth to tell him it’s all right, that you accept his apology, but he continues speaking, cutting you off and making you glad you never got a chance to actually speak.

“But out of everyone, I see you flirting with Xavier? I mean, come on.”

“I wasn’t flirting–”

“Sure as hell looked that way to me,” he huffs. “You two were all touchy. I saw it.”

You take a deep breath and move to stand up, forcing him to move out of your way. You close the car door behind you and turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. You are not going to have this argument like this. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Tyler.”

Tyler doesn’t hesitate before he replies. “Well, that’s cause I am.”

For the first time since you’ve known Tyler Owens, you’re lost for words. You open your mouth once, twice, unable to come up with anything to say to him. It seems Tyler is the same, just staring at you, his eyes ever so slightly wide. 

“Then… then you’re jealous for all the wrong reasons,” you manage.

You should be saying something else – teasing him, getting on his nerves, but your short response is all you can get out and it’s nothing like your usual tone when you talk to Tyler.

He frowns. “Why is that?”

You clear your throat. “Cause he was the one coming onto me, telling me to join his team and talking shit about you, and I was the one telling him not to talk shit about you and not to put his hands on me, like he thought he could clearly do without consent.”

As soon as you finish speaking, you regret your words only because of the look that crosses over Tyler’s face. He glances over your shoulder towards the gas station where you assume Xavier and his team still are. 

“That piece of shit,” Tyler mutters, and then he’s moving.

You’re quick to react, hurrying after him and reaching out to grab his arm and attempt to tug him to a stop. It doesn’t work the first time, but the second time it does. “Tyler, stop. You going in there is not going to help anything, it’s just going to make things worse.”

Tyler turns to look at you and you’ve never seen him look so mad before. 

“You’re telling me that guy put his hands on you and tried to come onto you and you don’t want me to go and give him a piece of my mind? Sunshine, he deserves worse than what I can do to him, but I’ll do my best,” he says.

You don’t miss the fact that Tyler manoeuvres your grip on his arm to take your hand in his instead, weaving his fingers in-between yours and giving your hand a squeeze.   

“I’m saying that I already gave him a piece of my mind, T, and I threatened that I’d tell everyone about what he did if he said anything bad about you again,” you explain. 

“I don’t care if he says anything about me, but the fact that he did that to you… everyone already deserves to know what a piece of shit he is,” Tyler seethes. 

You squeeze his hand, then. “I’m sure they’ll find out one of these days, but not today, T, please. I just wanted to come out here and get some fresh air and try and forget what happened.”

Tyler takes a breath and then takes a step towards you, away from the gas station. “Do you want company or do you want me to go back inside and tell the others to hang back inside a while?”

“You’d do that?”

He laughs softly. “Have the last few minutes not shown you that I’d do pretty much anything for you, sunshine? And last night? The last thing I wanted was for you to ride with someone else other than me, but I could tell it’s what you wanted, so I didn’t fight you on it.”

“And what you said over the radio this morning?”

“I missed you and the way you always disagree with me. I just acted on it the wrong way.”

“Yeah,” you nod your head. “You were a real asshole.”

Tyler’s face breaks out into a grin. “Not gonna disagree with you on that one.”

You stare up at him for a moment, honestly surprised at how quickly things had changed between you. Only minutes ago, Tyler was mad at you, then he was mad at Xavier and now he was standing here, smiling at you like you were as bright as the sun. His nickname was fitting for you, you suppose.

“Will you just come and stay with me for a bit? Till whenever the others come out?” You ask, nodding your head back towards the car where you’d been sitting before.

Tyler nods. “I have one condition, though.”

“Name it.”

“You sit in my truck instead, and you come back and ride with me in it again.”

You can’t keep the smile off your face. “That’s two conditions, actually, T.”

“And you didn’t say no to either of them,” Tyler smiles. “Come on, sunshine.”

[narnian-neverlander]

For You, Always [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Plot Summary: You press your forehead to his lightly and whisper your thanks again, and “What you did was more than enough. You will always be more than enough.” He tightens the arm still looped around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, the hand on your face slipping to the back of your neck, mirroring you. This is how things have always been between you two and how they should stay: clearly caring and loving, yet a certain line never crossed.

Word Count: 4,7k

Warnings: slight angst, self-worth issues (both of them need a freaking hug), internalized ableism, talk about a non-consensual relationship (nothing explicit/graphic or sexual, but reader’s ex is clearly an abusive, ableist pos)

This is part of a series of stand alone One-Shots that all feature the same reader, you can find the masterlist here :3

A/N: Jayce is playing matchmaker, because both Viktor and the Reader have such bad self-worth issues, they’re not gonna get anywhere unless he whacks them over the head with his hammer

“According to Mel, he is an absolute ass, but unfortunately one of the most influential people in Piltover, so—“

“Unfortunately, he’s also kinda, sorta my ex…” you mumble into the rim of your glass, interrupting Jayce and it is comical, cartoonish almost, how his head turns to look at you so fast you’re afraid his neck might snap. Not to mention Viktor accompanying his reaction perfectly by choking on his own drink. You watch Jayce open and close his mouth several times until he finally settles on: “That guy? Seriously? Didn’t think that was your type…”

He casts an incredibly unsubtle, overly obvious glance over at Viktor as he says this and you would’ve loved to strangle him for it; thankfully the man in question is too busy coughing up fancy champagne to notice, he does however manage to get out a “Oh please tell me you lost a bet.”

Downing the rest of your drink in one go, you shake your head. “Gods, I wish. Just… young and stupid and naive and always too eager to please and — and he’s coming this way. Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.” You all but flee the scene about to unfold, grabbing another glass off a passing waiter’s tray as you make a break for the nearest balcony. Your friends watch you disappear into the crowd with worried frowns; Jayce’s statement of “Probably a pretty bad breakup…” getting answered with an eye roll and a heavily sarcastic “You think so? I never would have guessed.”

The next hours are spent hopping from hiding spot to hiding spot, snatching drinks and snacks off trays whenever you manage while keeping an eye out for your personified worst nightmare. By some godly miracle you manage to utterly avoid the man and the next familiar face you spot when you dare venture back into the crowds is the Man of Progress himself, surrounded by nobles and merchants alike, polite smile on his face as he makes conversation. A polite, fake smile in danger of slipping that you spot from a mile away. Catching a glimpse of the band getting ready to strike up another song, you decide to be merciful and rescue him. It’s not entirely selfless though, as you figure if the asshole does end up spotting you, watching you dance with Piltover’s very own golden boy might be a good enough repellant.

“Excuse me, Mr. Talis?” Relief floods his features as he turns around to find you right behind him, having shoved your way through the circle of admirers. “I hate to interrupt, but you did promise me a dance. You’re not the kind of man to go back on his word are you?” Voice all sweet and coy and honeyed, batting your lashes at him; the picture perfect flirt making starry eyes at the man leading the city of progress into a brighter future. And it takes all he has not to burst out laughing, because he’s seen this from you before, except it’s usually not him on the receiving end of it, but his partner. It is charming, endearing even, he will admit. No wonder Viktor can never say no to you when you look at him like that. And right now he’s beyond elated you’ve decided to play his saving grace for some reason, so he wouldn’t even dream of turning you down.

“Of course not. If you’ll excuse me.” he states, ignoring any protests from bystanders and guides you to the dance floor with a hand on the small of your back. He leads you into a waltz and waits until you’re swallowed by dancing couples until he lets his face drop into an exhausted grimace. “Oh sweet Gods, thank you. Anymore of that and I would’ve driven the cocktail sticks into my ears.”

“You’re welcome. How did you even end up like that, though? Where’s your better half? He’s usually pretty capable of getting you both out of situations like that.” He sends you a knowing grin as he spins you. “Oh so you think he’s the better half? Ouch.” It earns him an eye roll, but you’re smiling nonetheless. “Like you don’t know I have a favorite. Now answer the question, golden boy.” There’s hesitation before he answers with, “He went home for the evening.” and you almost fumble your next steps. “Excuse me? The bastard begged me to come along for weeks and now he just ditches? The only reason I agreed to come was because he actually promised me a dance.”

Jayce hems and haws and you’re ridiculously close to intentionally stomping on his foot to get him to cough up an explanation; luckily for him he manages in time. “No, no, it’s more like… I sent him home cause if he would’ve had to be in the same room as your ex any longer, I was genuinely afraid he’d take the guy’s head off with his cane.” The laugh that bubbles up from your throat is joyful and real; Jayce has always been good at defusing your irritation with humor. It takes another few seconds and another look at his face to realize that he’s dead serious and your laughter dies on your tongue, leaving behind the taste of ashes. “You can’t be— He— What?! I left you guys for two hours max!”

“Yeah, well…” he starts as he dips you, “your ex has a way of getting under people’s skin.” No shit. But you’d honestly thought Viktor was above it. “What did the asshole do? Dismiss Hextech as an obsolete fantasy?” Shaking his head, he leads you into another turn. “No, quite the opposite, actually. He was incredibly interested, but his demands for becoming a sponsor were ludicrous, to put it mildly. Final say in the direction of Hextech, majority of the shares, unrestricted access to all stages of development and… you.” This time, you do stumble over your own feet in shock, falling straight into his chest. “Pardon?!”

The poor man looks as uncomfortable as you feel as he explains. “Apparently he saw the three of us talking earlier and one thing led to another and— fuck, I don’t know what happened between you, but that man is absolutely not over you. For some reason that is entirely beyond me, he was under the impression that because we’re friends we’d somehow be able to coerce you into being with him again. And the way he was talking about you? Gods, it made me wanna punch him in the face; it was so utterly vile I can’t even repeat it. Scratch that, I just really don’t want to.” All things considered, you’re glad for his hands steadying you, cause the room’s spinning even without the dance you’re still enagaged in and you feel like you’re gonna loose all the fancy hors-d’oeuvres from earlier on the polished marble floor any second now. “Great. Lovely. Perfect. And how exactly does Viktor fit into this now?”

He sighs. “Honestly, I can’t repeat what he said either.” This seems to ground your spiraling for a moment and you cock a brow at him. “Are you kidding? He’s usually pretty eloquent.” To say you’re surprised when he snorts in amusement would be an understatement. “I mean I literally can’t repeat it, because he was so utterly livid, he slipped into his mother tongue and while I can’t be sure, it didn’t exactly sound like he was complimenting the guy.”

Finally all the pieces click into place and when they do, you slow your steps to a stop and blink up at your friend owlishly. “He… Viktor got upset on my behalf?” The way he so openly laughs at you makes your ears burn and your fist connects with his chest in a halfhearted punch. “I don’t see what’s so funny about that!” Catching your hand as you ready yourself for another swing, this time aimed at his stupid, handsome face, he reigns in his laughter and simply smiles at you; not mean spirited or teasing, but shockingly gentle and sweet. “You really can’t even begin to understand the way he sees you, huh? The lengths he’d go to for you?”

The anger and embarrassment in your veins all but evaporates, replaced by something soft and warm; heat gathering at the back of your neck and the balls of your cheeks for an entirely different reason now. Your mouth drops open as you try to formulate some sort of response, only to fail miserably; incoherent stuttering and beginnings of words the only thing you manage to produce. The music finally fades out and is replaced by applause for the band as your friend chuckles and inclines his head towards the door. “You should go talk to him.” A glance over his shoulder shows you the gaggle of potential investors you’d saved him from earlier already making their way towards you again. “And you’ll survive if I leave you alone with these people?” An overly dramatic sigh is your answer. “I’ll gladly sacrifice myself for your happiness.” The ‘my hero’ he gets in return is dripping with sarcasm as he winks at you and makes a shooing motion towards the exit, then turns around to head back into the fray, giving you a clean escape.

Freezing winter air hits you as you exit the venue; bitingly cold but a welcome change from the sweltering warmth of the gala nonetheless. Starting left, you catch yourself after only a few steps to reconsider. Left would be Viktor’s apartment. Right would be the lab. You know him better than that, don’t you? So you change directions, readjusting your scarf over your nose. It’s a relatively short distance to the academy, even so your fingers are starting to go numb when you reach one of the big, heavy doors leading inside. The hallowed halls are quiet and dark, making the high ceilings and ornate walls seem even more imposing than usual as you make your way towards the lab with hurried steps. It all feels like you’re doing something illegal - or maybe it would, if all the security guards hadn’t seen you hang around the two Hextech pioneers often enough for you to know all their names by heart at this point. Arriving at the lab, first glance tells you it’s as empty as the rest of the building. Except for the tiny sliver of light peeking out from under the door. Bingo.

You gingerly, quietly press down on the handle, not wanting to involuntarily startle the man you know to be inside, just in case he’s handling something explosive. One experience like that had been enough to last you a lifetime. You’re in luck, as you instead find him hunched over one of the desks, furiously scribbling notes onto various scattered pieces of paper, muttering under his breath. The small lamp at his side casts deep shadows across his face, but you’re still able to make out the frown; thick eyebrows drawn together in irritation and lips pressed into a thin line. He couldn’t possibly still be upset about what happened at the gala, could he? No, impossible. Preposterous. Idiotic. He’s hit a roadblock in his equations, that had to be it. But seeing as you’re not in any danger of accidentally causing him to blow you both to pieces you make your presence known to him.

“I do believe Jayce told you to go home, didn’t he?” Viktor almost drops his pen in alarm, swiveling around on his stool to find you have sidled up to him, leaning against the desk, in the process of ridding yourself of your coat and scarf, an amused grin on your lips. He puts a hand over his racing heart, as he says “And a heart attack is a fitting reprimand for my crime in your eyes, yes?” You only raise your brows in return, smile slipping from your face, disapproval obvious in your eyes as they flit towards the clock in the corner of the room for just a second; it’s the same look he always gets from you when he’s working when he clearly shouldn’t be. Running a hand through his already messy, chestnut hair, he shrugs. “I simply didn’t feel particularly tired when I left.”

“So I’ve heard.” you muse and pick up a random cogwheel from the table to fiddle with. “Apparently you had some… disagreements with a potential investor?” He clicks his tongue in annoyance and all but chucks the pen still in his hand across the desk. “Potential investor, don’t make me laugh. That appalling, pathetic excuse of a man shouldn’t be allowed in a five mile radius of anything Hextech. Or a five mile radius of you, for that matter.” Humming in both agreement and intrigue, you continue with what’s really been eating you up. “Jayce said you hit him with some choice words. Mind repeating those for me?” A sideways glance your way to confirm you’re certain and then he launches into a repeat of his rant from earlier that evening. He gets about three or four words into it before you throw the cogwheel at him; it bounces off his shoulder and lands on the floor with a ping. “Oh someone thinks he’s particularly funny tonight. In a language I understand, maybe?” Try as he might to hide it, you catch the corners of his mouth tugging upward slightly. “That’s not what you asked of me, though.” Know-it-all bastard.

“Oh how dare you?” Hopping up on the table for additional theatrics, you grip your chest in mock offense and throw your head back dramatically. “Here I am, having braved a journey of freezing winds and complete darkness, to bestow my thanks upon you and you don’t even have the courtesy to thrill me with a retelling of your courageous deeds. Disappointing, truly.” A pointed cough into his fist does little to hide the laugh at your antics. “Please, the venue is a ten minute walk from here and all the streets are lined with lanterns. You’ll need to try a little harder, miláčku.”

Huffing, you run a hand over your face, desperately trying to hide how much the nickname affects you and give you a second to think. Your salvation stares at you from the other end of the lab, the golden horn of the phonograph glinting in the light of the moon that filters through the windows. And he immediately knows he won’t like what comes out of your mouth next, with the way your eyes flash and your lips curl in an absolutely wicked smile. “Well you see, I still haven’t been paid for tonight.” Confusion is clear as day in both his face and his voice. “I do not recall discussing payment for your participation in the gala…?”

“Oh but we did!” you giggle as you hook your foot around the center of his roller stool to drag him closer, very much enjoying the look of utter shock on his face and the slight graze of his hands on the sides of your things as they land on the desk next to you to try and regain his balance. “A certain someone promised to dance with me if I showed up. Guess who ditched before he made good on that?” At least he has the courtesy to look sheepish, a little knowing ‘Ah…’ sound escaping him as he rubs a hand over the back of his neck and drops his gaze to his lap. With how the night had gone, he’d genuinely forgotten all about it. And before the night had even started he’d hoped you’d forget. He really should’ve known better. A finger enters his field of vision to poke him in the chest. “You’re in luck; I am nothing if not merciful, so I’ll leave it up to you: a dance or an explanation. So what’ll it be, darling?”

He’s beyond grateful you can’t get a proper look at his face at the moment, with how pink he knows his cheeks to be, lest you realize how much the nickname actually affects him. And this shouldn’t be such a hard choice, really; the way his heart stutters at just the thought of either, he should be doing both. Besides, you deserve to know. Deserve to know that he’d told that pompous swine to go choke on his wine the moment he’d as much as uttered your name. Told him that he shouldn’t even be allowed to breathe the same air as you, much less be allowed close enough to touch you. That he could amass as much money and power as he liked, he’d never be worth even a fraction of you.

You deserve to know all of that. And yet he doesn’t tell you. Because while he did what he did for your sake, it had still been selfishly motivated. Because if he tells someone interested in you off, then at least it feels like you’re his, even for just a second. Because the irony of the situation is that while your ex might be undeserving of you, so is he. For different reasons, yes, but he feels it’s true nonetheless.

So he doesn’t tell you any of it, his personal demons are not your burden to bear after all, simply grabs his cane in silence and walks over to the phonograph. Slow notes of a gentle melody fill the air a few moments later, as he turns and offers you his hand.

And you’re absolutely shell shocked, to say the least. This is… not the choice you’d been expecting. Words are his forte; he’d always choose them over physicality if given the opportunity. Or so you’d thought. This doesn’t make sense to you; why was he so desperately trying to keep what he’d said about you a secret? Or had Jayce completely misunderstood the situation he’d recounted to you and Viktor had never said anything about you at all? Why would he bother to anyways? You and your past demons aren’t his burden to bear, after all. The uncertainty must be written all over your face, as you’re met with a concerned, “Are you alright?”

It’s a simple enough question, with a simple enough answer, yes or no, but all of a sudden, you’re a child again. Sitting bruised, bleeding, soaked to the bone and crying your little heart out in the shallows of one of the offshoots of the river, an altercation between you and some other kids having turned out to be another case of you biting off more than you could chew. And then a little pale hand holding out a dirty handkerchief had appeared in your peripheral, belonging to a small, lanky boy with a cane and big, worried golden eyes.

Are you alright?

You hadn’t known him then. But you’d taken his hand anyways. Had decided to trust him. He’d never once let you down since and you have no reason to doubt him now. So you do the same thing in this exact moment as you did all those years ago: just take his hand and trust him.

He pulls you flush against him, hands linked behind your lower back, your own coming up to rest on his shoulders. It’s nowhere near as elaborate and elegant as your waltz earlier this evening, more of a simple swaying from side to side, but it doesn’t have to be. Not for you. Not as long as it’s him.

Smiling softly, you say, “A dance with each one of the Hextech geniuses in one night. I must be the luckiest person in Piltover.” He hums in acknowledgment. “And do you have a preference?”

“Oh come now, that is an utterly unfair comparison.” And your heart aches at the way his face falls just the tiniest bit. “I’ve had my preference for years, regardless of dancing abilities; poor Jayce never even stood a chance.” It’s quiet and subtle, barely more than a deep breath in and out, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. “Don’t tell him that, it’ll break his heart.” In direct comparison to him, the bark of laughter that escapes you is loud and boisterous, only amplified by the muted, soft atmosphere surrounding you both. “Please, he knows. He’s been yanking my chain about that for a bit.” Not that you particularly mind; it’s a chain you wear proudly and for all to see after all. You’d shout your love for this man from the highest towers of Piltover if only he asked. “Besides…” you start while tucking your head into the crook of his neck, “I’m here dancing with you because I want to be. I really only danced with Jayce because I thought if… if you-know-who saw it, it might keep him off my back a little longer.”

A slight turn of his head has him nuzzling your hair; the hushed whisper of your name almost sounds pained as his arms tighten around you protectively. He isn’t sure what exactly happened between you and your ex, but he’d be willing to bet that the nature of your relationship hadn’t been… consensual. It’s plain to see that the man scares you and it makes him sick. Angry. Desperate. But most of all, he’s disappointed - in himself. The conversation him and Jayce had had with him had been one thing; the bastard knew how to behave at least somewhat diplomatically while there were people of importance present. Of course, Jayce, and by extension, you, couldn’t know that he’d had the misfortune of running into him yet again while he was leaving. He’d had to listen to that waste of oxygen in expensive clothing talk about you like you were nothing more than a filthy piece of his property yet again and this time around he hadn’t managed to remain even remotely civil. Had thrown every curse and threat under the sun in two different languages his way. Had hissed at him that he’d turn him inside out if he ever even looked at you again - only for the pig to laugh in his face, pat his cheek condescendingly and give a disgusted, embarrassed look at his cane, telling him that he was ’welcome to try’ before vanishing back into the crowd. Viktor had wanted to scream at the top his lungs; it had been a while since he’d felt so utterly livid, yet so humiliated and useless at the same time.

And here you are, wanting to thank him for some courageous, chivalrous deed he didn’t actually commit. Looking at him with the biggest eyes, like he’d hung the stars in the sky just for you, when in reality, he couldn’t even properly defend you against someone who’d clearly hurt you. He has to tell you. He’s not the hero you think him to be.

“About what I said to him—“ is as far as he gets, as you promptly cut him off with, “Don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter.” Not even ten minutes ago, you were essentially blackmailing him into spilling this secret and now you don’t care anymore? “I would argue that it does.” He feels more than sees you shake your head, your hair tickling his cheek. “You stood up for me, right? That’s all I have to know. It’s enough.”

Anger and disgust come back full force, choking him like bile rising in the back of his throat, not aimed at you, never at you, but at himself.

“It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out so harsh and bitter and cold.

“It’s plenty.”

Soft and sweet and warm, the exact opposite of his own words in every way; the reassurance and comfort he’s supposed to be offering you dripping from every word. When did your roles get reversed? You’re the one in distress and you’re comforting him? He’s not just useless, he’s absolutely pathetic. And even though you might be none the wiser to his self destructive thoughts, some part of you seems to know; it always seems to know as your fingers dance across his shoulders to busy themselves with the hair at the nape of his neck, calming his nerves.

“I haven’t had— I mean, no one’s ever— Most people—“ A sigh, a clear sign of frustration as you try to get your thoughts in order, warm breath fanning over his neck, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. “I can count the people who ever stood up for me over the course of my life on one hand; I mean, my birth parents never even bothered to. So knowing there’s someone who has my back, even when I’m not present? It’s…” Pulling back to look at him, his breath catches at the way the silvery light from outside empathizes the affection in your eyes and the tenderness of your smile. “It’s a nice feeling. Thank you.”

His hand is moving before his brain has time to play catch up, cupping your cheek and all but melting when you nuzzle into his warmth, eyes fluttering closed.

“For you? Always.���

He’s not sure he’s ever seen you look quite so peaceful and at ease and it feels like his heart is gonna jump right out of his chest; his gaze is drawn to your lips before he can fully think about what that could entail.

He watches your lips part slightly and when he manages to wrench his golden eyes back up, he finds yours already on him, wide in astonishment and he knows he’s been caught red handed.

And you consider yourself most fortunate, cause if he’d looked up even a second earlier, he would’ve caught you staring. The air is heavy and promising and whoever makes the next move decides wether or not things between you both are gonna change irrevocably.

Tonight, you’re the one that makes that decision. The decision that you’re not ready for things to change. You like what you have and are too scared of losing it. Instead, you settle for something different, yet just as poignant and important; a clear and explicit expression of love for people from Zaun. Softly tugging on his neck, he goes oh so willingly, happily even. You press your forehead to his lightly and whisper your thanks again, and “What you did was more than enough. You will always be more than enough.”

He tightens the arm still looped around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, the hand on your face slipping to the back of your neck, mirroring you. This is how things have always been between you two and how they should stay: clearly caring and loving, yet a certain line never crossed.

Neither one of you notices the music coming to an end, replaced by the scratchy static of needle against vinyl, too wrapped up in the moment, in each other. A bell tolls outside, signaling the coming of midnight and just like in a fairytale, the spell you seem to be under comes to an abrupt end. With a deep breath, you step back, putting some much needed distance between you, if you want your brain to function properly again, that is, and clear your throat awkwardly. “I uh… I should be getting home. Some people still have a regular day and night schedule, unlike you.”

With a small smile, you go to gather your coat as he switches off the phonograph. When he turns back to you, his heart falls in disappointment; you’re already dressed and halfway to the door. He would’ve liked to walk you home, at least, but you honestly look like you’re fleeing from something; he apparently has imposed on you enough for tonight. Pausing with your hand on the handle, you call his name again, delicately, quietly. When your gaze finds him, you’re pleased to find his full attention already on you.

“Next time you’re pulling an all-nighter… save me another dance?”

And with the way his golden eyes start to shine like the stars and his beautiful lips quirk up into that crooked half smile you adore, you can almost believe Jayce’s words - almost.

You really can’t even begin to understand the way he sees you, huh? The lengths he’d go to for you?

“For you? Always.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼

Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??

First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣

Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…

Part 2

You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.

‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.

He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.

For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.

‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’

‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.

‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’

He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.

‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.

‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.

Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’

Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.

‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.

As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

Female reader and Leona Kingscholar, heat and breed please!

Warnings: Leona in a rut, oral (f! receiving), biting, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick lion ig?, always have your partner’s consent just like Leona has yours, creampie

Leona Kingscholar

When this man goes into his rut, he is an insatiable beast. It’s not even that he actually wants kids, but the thought of filling you up made him so hard that he couldn’t help himself but keep you full of his cum.

It was a mistake, really, walking into his room because you were so worried about him. Actually, a lot of Savanaclaw was on lockdown, and you were worried about your boyfriend. A few of the students who were still out and about warned you about going into the dormitory, let alone Leona’s room, but that made you even more concerned.

Once you opened the door, you heard the lion in question groaning. You called out his name, worried that he might be in some sort of pain. 

“Y/N, I need you to leave… now,” he growled.

“What’s wrong, Leona? Your dorm is on lockdown-”

You were cut off by him, because you blinked and suddenly you were pinned to the now-closed door.

“I said that you need to leave.” You expected him to be angry, but instead he had a look of desperation. He was pleading with you. You could feel the intense heat with how close he was. His hair was more disheveled than usual, a telltale sign that something was wrong.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on!” You insisted. He bore his teeth, his canines showing. You were starting to get a bit scared before he pushed off of you. “Leona?”

“Some of the beastmen in the dorm are going into their ruts. Did you walk all the way over here? In the midst of all this?! Where all these guys can smell you?!!!” His mind was racing a million miles a minute. How could you be this stupid? How could you come here, to a place with a bunch of guys going through this??

“You weren’t responding to my texts or calls, and I was getting worried!” This guy must have purchased his audacity because any girlfriend would be understandably worried when their boyfriend wasn’t responding.

He went quiet for a few moments. He was looking away from you, and you were worried that something was truly wrong. But, in the light, you saw a sheen of sweat on his face and you saw that his face was tinged with red. He was panting. You also noticed the not-very-subtle bulge in his pants.

Oh. Oh shit.

Now is when you process his words. The entire dorm was on lockdown because they are in their rutting seasons…

A certain familiar wetness made itself known between your legs, and Leona’s pupils dilated at smelling your arousal. What have you gotten yourself into? And why were you excited to find out?

In a matter of seconds, you could feel passionate kisses trailing up and down your neck, and you were powerless against it. The lion that you had called your boyfriend up to this point was nowhere to be found, and he had gone quite feral. However, he was still a gentleman.

“Y/N, this is your last chance to leave. If you stay, I won’t be able to control myself.” Leona managed to pull away for a few seconds to utter those words right next to your ear, and you felt your stomach flutter.

“Good, because I don’t want you to control yourself.” Was all you said, and you were hoisted up into the air, pinned to the door once again. You wrapped your legs around his torso to make sure you didn’t slip as you both began to make out. 

The beastman pulled away first, making sure to bite your bottom lip. However, the space wasn’t open for very long. It was just enough time to take you from the door to his bed. If he was going to make you his mat, he wanted to do it properly. Wait… mating? When did that come into play??

Doesn’t matter because he places his hands on the inside of your thighs a bit to separate them so he could slide your shorts and panties off easier. The smell emanating from the heat between your legs was heavenly.

Leona found himself quickly climbing off so that he could unbuckle his belt and take off his pants and boxers, revealing a length you weren’t sure you could handle. He saw your eyes widened, and so he crawled between your legs and started licking at your exposed folds.

His tongue had a bit of a rougher texture, not quite like a cat, but not quite like a human. It was something in-between, and it worked for your benefit. The sensation had you writhing and squirming in pleasure… that was, until he wrapped his arms around your thighs and put your legs on his shoulders.

“You’re not going anywhere, herbivore,” he mumbled straight into your pussy before going back to eating you out. 

Even though this was supposed to be to prepare you for his cock, this was also for his pleasure. Being surrounded by your smell and getting to taste your juices was all he could ever ask for. He left hickies and bite marks on your thighs as well. His canines drew blood on one of the marks, and he licked it up which made you whimper.

When he deemed you wet enough, he climbed up and lined his tip up with your entrance.

“It’s going to hurt, and you can tell me to stop whenever you want. If I don’t, slap me or some shit. I don’t want to do anything without your consent,” you nodded at his words, but he shook his head. “I need words, Y/n.”

“Please, Leona! I want you in me!” You moaned, hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. That’s when the last shred of sanity was barely hanging on.

He slowly entered you, giving you time to adjust to his size. You winced in pain, and once he was fully inside, he stopped. Your walls were squeezing the life out of him, and a groan made its way from out of his mouth. It was taking all of his willpower not to just rail you into oblivion.

After a few moments, he started slowly pulling back out, and the feeling was unlike anything else. He thrust his cock back in, and your eyes rolled back. Leona took this as an okay to start moving quicker. Your pussy squeezed him so hard, every time he pulled out it was like a magnet, calling for him to go back in. 

The coil in your belly unraveled not too far into your session with him. You soaked his cock in your juices, and he let out a deep, sexy growl before speeding up even more. Your overstimulated cunt was weeping and begging for more, and she got what she asked for. 

“Where do you want my cum, herbivore?” He was nearing his own release, and he looked into your eyes.

“Inside… Inside, please!” You mewled. You locked your legs around him, locking him in place.

Not too long after, you felt an explosion of warmth inside of you, and Leona leaned into your neck, biting into it and drawing even more blood. His tongue gently ran over it to clean it up, and he placed kisses along it as well.

He tried to pull back and admire his work, wanting to see you in your entirety. However, your legs were not letting go. Where you both remained connected, your juices were mixing with another, and some were getting on the sheets as well. Not that the Housewarden minded; it would remind him of the day he got to claim you as his own.

Your walls began squeezing him again, also not wanting to let go of him. Even though it hasn’t even been a full 5 minutes since you both came, he was hard again and you were aroused again.

“If we go again, herbivore, I might knock you up. Shit, I might have already. Do you want that?” He leaned more towards your ear, whispering. “Do you want to be filled with my cubs?”

And with that, you both fucked in every. possible. position. for the entire week he was in rut. You barely caught a break, and you were often on the verge of passing out from exhaustion.

[astonmartinii]

i can do it with a broken heart [guilty as sin part three] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

life goes on after a bombshell but this silence isn't mysterious it's ominous

MASTERLIST | GUILTY AS SIN MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,304,509 others

yourusername: don't tell lies about me and i won't tell truths about you

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user164: oh holy moly this is so much worse than i thought

user165: i don't think i can ever look at those men the same ever again

user166: SEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS FOR FAVOURS?

user167: my mouth dropped open when i read that

user168: so like not to be insensitive but like who do we think it was

maxverstappen1: so like y/n obviously can't talk on this because she needs her silence but my big mouth will remain open they tried it on me that's why she mentions that she managed to make friends.

user169: what the fuck

maxverstappen1: they thought that i would be an easy target because i was so young but jokes on them i've always been taken advantage of so i saw that from a mile away (also y/n didn't want to so that obviously helped)

user170: that is actually insane like her and max are the same age so that would've made her so young i hope to god that they didn't try it with anyone older

maxverstappen1: they did but by the time they realised that it hadn't worked on me y/n had allies and fernando and seb were not about to let any of that happen

user171: thank the lord she had some friends when people control your money you'll do anything

fernandoalo_oficial: she became my daughter the moment that i saw them try and offer their family to some of the older men in the paddock

user172: i am actually in shock this was a "oh gosh this is so dramatic situation" but now it's just "holy shit i kinda need to see these guys in jail"

fernandoalo_oficial: me and you both

user173: i'm going to need ferrari to let charles out of the cage for this one

user174: kinda expected him to be in the comments supporting her i'm not going to lie

user175: he's in the likes?

user176: girl? his girlfriend is being sued by his own family and is confessing that she was offered round the paddock like a prize cow i feel like he should be actively voicing his support

oscarpiastri: you're loved and have the full support of the paddock

maxverstappen1: we're behind you 100% of the way

olliebearman: nothing but full support for you mum

pierregasly: we're all here for you no matter what we're allowed to say

fernandoalo_oficial: 🫶

sebastianvettel: it'll all work out in the end

user177: still no charles ???

user178: eh i feel like pierre is confirming charles' support in his place

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 835,923 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

maxverstappen1: i'm missing my best friend has anyone seen her?

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user179: oh good i was just about to lose it from y/n and max withdrawals

user180: at least one of the trio of dumbasses is keeping us fed

yourusername: i miss you toooooooooo :( (reply fast my lawyer has gone to the bathroom)

maxverstappen1: hurry up and win your lawsuit so we can go back to kicking ass and drinking gin and tonics

yourusername: i'm trying 🤞

maxverstappen1: and if i said it's time to red wedding them?

yourusername: i think we would be swiftly arrested

maxverstappen1: they can't arrest us our face cards are too strong

yourusername: well one of us is currently in court so what does that say about my face card

charles_leclerc: THAT YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL REGARDLESS FUCK THEM

this comment was liked by the author and @yourusername

this comment was deleted

user181: so is that like confirmation that charles is back in PR jail in maranello

user182: right i understand that he's literally employed by them but like he's also a grown ass man who can speak up

user183: like i know max isn't obviously at ferrari and isn't contractually obligated to be teammates with carlos but even he's out here slamming him

user184: and oscar who's only in his SECOND year in the sport

oscarpiastri: bold assumption that you're the best friend max

maxverstappen1: let's not get too rowdy piastri i can deal with you as the 'child' - you cannot be a bestie as well

oscarpiastri: i don't think that's the exact rules

maxverstappen1: you'll soon learn that I MAKE THE RULES AROUND HERE BUSTER

oscarpiastri: i can't wait for y/n to kick their asses so she can come back and KICK YOURS FOR ME

maxverstappen1: she would NEVER

oscarpiastri: okay maybe she wouldn't, but my dad on the other hand ...

liked by @charles_leclerc

user185: charles just PLEASE GET ON THE MIC

user186: i'm about to lose my patience i'm not going to lie

user187: guys we have to remember that this is a complicated situation with a lot of different moving parts, as long as charles is there for her in REAL LIFE it doesn't matter what we're seeing

liked by @yourusername

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, user190 and 308,994 others

carlossainz55: what was it you said? all is fair in love and poetry.

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user191: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

user192: not the childhood dog too ???

user193: these are unbelievable levels of hating

user194: i'd be impressed if he wasn't such an asshole

maxverstappen1: get fucked

carlossainz55: she shouldn't dish it out if she can't take it

maxverstappen1: she fell in love ?? and you thought that was a good excuse to take everything she's ever had

carlossainz55: she cost me my dream

maxverstappen1: as far i can remember, she's not on the fucking FERRARI BOARD GENIUS

carlossainz55: it's her pussy-whipped boyfriend that's the problem and she deserved this as soon as she choose him over her blood

maxverstappen1: you're insane and history will always remember you as the biggest crybaby loser to ever grace this sport

user195: so this ^^ is definitely referring to y/n's poetry

user196: are we living through scooter braun volume two

user197: @taylorswift PLEASE HELP

charles_leclerc: EAT SHIT I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL

this comment was deleted

charles_leclerc: you are the lowest of the low and you will get what is coming to you

this comment was deleted

charles_leclerc: there's only so long i have to stay silent and the people will know just the type of person you are

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user198: so is like carlos deleting this comments or ferrari?

user199: i bet it's ferrari

user200: 1. can they stop being allergic to fun 2. i think this has gotten past the need to uphold image like these are your employees and this is serious actually

user201: also like silencing charles when its CARLOS BEING THE MESSY ONE HE IS ACTUALLY STILL YOUR EMPLOYEE

yourusername: old habits die screaming

carlossainz55: you can spout all the 'poetry' you want it'll all belong to me anyway

yourusername: i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning

user202: stealing poetry? now that's a new low

user203: i'm gonna need someone to take one for the team and put a cheeky front wing in his tyre

georgerussell63: well this sounds like a job for me

charles_leclerc

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 893,450 others

charles_leclerc: lets go racing.

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user206: is this even charles? where are the emojis? where is the excitement

user207: i think we might be witnessing a lil PR takeover after his deleted comments tirade under carlos' recent post

user208: you'd think they'd at least get his tone right like the rest of his account is RIGHT THERE

user209: charles leclerc's PR team we now have beef

liked by @yourusername

maxverstappen1: ugh you people are useless

oscarpiastri: i'm not going to lie i'm losing my patience

maxverstappen1: for real i'm gonna need this court case to finish up fast so we can get back to being a united front of haters

oscarpiastri: and then we can also wrestle charles' phone back by force

olliebearman: PLEASE KNOW THIS ISN'T ME I LOVE Y/N AND WE WILL LIVE TO KICK ASS AGAIN

user210: oh so they quite literally took his phone?

olliebearman: whoops

user210: ollie coming for kid of the year

olliebearman: i can't be told off for accidentally leaving my phone out while in the car and accidentally making my password something easy to remember and accidentally telling charles that his PR team had posted something - accident i swear

user211: @maxverstappen1 can you confirm they're still grossly in love?

maxverstappen1: i do have the letters to prove so but i think he's going insane with withdrawals

user212: that's it GET ME TO MARANELLO RIGHT THIS SECOND I HAVE A SCORE TO SETTLE

user213: yo i know we just got some confirmation from max but i can't help but think how lonely this must be for y/n

user214: for real if i was being sued by my family and had everything stolen from me i'd want more than some 'confirmation' through her bff in an instagram comment

carlossainz55: i hate to say i told you so @yourusername but that would be a lie i'm enjoying this so much

maxverstappen1: i want to fight you so bad but my therapist said that's bad

oscarpiastri: it's also illegal?

maxverstappen1: what's the point of being a rich white man oscar if i can't use to it to traverse the justice system and defend my bestie's honour

user215: @charles_leclerc get a backbone and do it like these two ^^

user216: i still have faith that he'll rain hell on that family when he's free

user217: well can he hurry the fuck up cause he's really shaping up to be the worst boyfriend of the year

user218: he has to get fucking loud HE CAN'T PROVE CARLOS RIGHT I DON'T WANT TO LIVE IN THAT WORLD

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 934,520 others

yourusername: i can do it with a broken heart

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user223: no no NO WE'RE NOT DOING ALL THIS GUESSING GAME SHIT WHAT WAS THE VERDICT?

user224: it's finished?

user225: that's what the spanish media are saying

user224: well in that case Y/N WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE YOUR POETRY BACK?

maxverstappen1: a wine evening without me? prison changed you

user225: SHE'S IN PRISON?

yourusername: STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M IN JAIL

maxverstappen1: want me to put some money in the commissary so you can buy cigarettes?

yourusername: i don't even smoke and i'M NOT IN JAIL

maxverstappen1: now you've done time can you employ some stricter parenting on oscar and ollie, they've gotten unruly with both parents absent

yourusername: i'm not an absent mother :(

oscarpiastri: SHE'S VERY PRESENT SHE'S BEEN TO EVERY RECITAL SHE CAN IN HER CURRENT CIRCUMSTANCES

maxverstappen1: did you just refer to literal FORMULA ONE GRAND PRIXS AS RECITALS?

oscarpiastri: maybe i did

yourusername: he's allowed to call them what he wants

olliebearman: i feel sufficiently supported by you mum x

yourusername: i'm glad

olliebearman: family dinner when dad gets released from ferrari's top secret base jail?

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maxverstappen1: did he just get sniped by ferrari's PR?

user226: okay cool got the main kids update but WHAT ABOUT LEO?

user227: please tell me he's been been in good care

yourusername: he's been my rock 🤞

user228: not the dog being more present than charles - it would be funny if it wasn't so sad :(

user229: so are any of you going to address the literal caption of this post

user230: there's two options here she either lost the court case or her and charles have actually broken up

user231: the fact carlos is not in this comment section actively gloating makes me think she might have actually won?

user232: but i don't want it to be the other option... charles and y/n are end game :(

user233: but he's been so so silent and that BULLSHIT response in the press conference

user234: idk the delusion in me has this theory ... she won the case but like t swift, doesn't have access to her old work so maybe she's heartbroken over losing that and then it's just exacerbated by her boyfriend's useless bosses that are holding him captive in italy (also he was totally coached to say that shit in the presser it's written all over his strangely expressive face)

user235: at this point i might go to italy and just prison break him out of there this is ridiculous

fin.

note: DON'T HATE ME YALL i promise it'll get better we must have faith in the man (i know i hate to put my faith in men) xx

extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: in comments!

[love-lilacs]

as simple as that | tyler owens x reader (18+)

“That alright?” Tyler asks, voice husky and breathy in your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine as heat pools in your core.

You nod quickly, not trusting your voice not to waver and betray you.

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI. porn w minimal plot, not beta read. smut. unprotected pnv (wrap it before you tap it pls). oral, m+f receiving. spanking. dirty talk. no use of y/n. slumby in a truck on the side of the road yk.

word count: 3.7k

It’s the middle of the night. The middle of the fucking night, and you’re tucked into the passenger seat of Tyler’s beat up red truck as you make your way through the middle of nowhere, Oklahoma. There aren’t any streetlights here, and the last car you saw was nearly an hour ago. 

“Tyler, the storm will still be forming tomorrow morning. Please, lets just pull over and get some sleep.” 

He shakes his head stubbornly, “It’s better if we make it tonight.” 

You huff, crossing your arms. “We won’t perform any better if you’re half-asleep while we’re chasing.”

“Darlin’ when have you ever known me to half-ass anything?”

You grit your teeth, unwilling to concede. “There’s a first time for everything.” 

Another half-hour passes in silence with only the tinny music crooning from the radio to fill the air. 

It annoys you, how perfect the great Tyler Owens is. He was the big man on campus back in college, 4.0 at graduation, party guy, and never turning down a challenge. 

And your personal nemesis, because while you were studying late into the night, he was blacked out at a bar and still managing perfect scores. He would always tease you in class, gently tugging your ponytail or stealing your pretzels during group projects. 

“I’m just saying-” 

You’re interrupted by a loud thunk from underneath the hood. You lean forward, peering through the windshield as if you could miraculously see through the metal to see what went wrong. 

“It’s probably nothing.” Tyler says calmly, anticipating your quip, “we’re only an hour and a half to the hotel. Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll get it checked in the morning.” Even as he speaks, Tyler grips the steering wheel a little tighter, an action you don’t miss in the dark cab. 

Something rattles, as if in response to his assuredness. 

“Oh yeah, it sure sounds like nothing.” You snark, turning to face him.

“Just relax, would ya?” Tyler snaps. “I know my truck.”

Silence fills the air as the truck begins to loose speed, the hood steaming as the two of you come to a slow, rumbling stop. On the side of the road, in Bumfuck, Oklahoma. 

Tyler must be reading your mind as he whips open his door and points a finger at you. “Don’t go anywhere.” He slams his door shut before you have a second to respond, circling the front to open up the hood. 

“Couldn’t if I wanted to!” You call sarcastically at his slammed door. Huffing out a sigh as you wait, petulant and childish as you sulk. 

But you aren’t good at waiting, and you aren’t half awful with mechanical things, so you jump out and join Tyler at the front of his truck. You stare down at the mess of metal and the steaming engine. 

“I can’t get it going again tonight.” He begrudgingly admits. “We’re going to have to wait until tomorrow morning for Triple A or someone on the team to get us.” 

“You’re fucking kidding.” You groan, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“It’s not half bad out here.” He muses, looking around. “We have our sleeping bags and blankets. We can just stretch out in the truck bed and sleep there.”

“Seriously, Tyler? That’s your best idea? Motel Owens?”

“Do you have a better one?” He fires back, putting his hands on his hips. “If so, I’d love to hear it. The next town isn’t for another fifteen miles, the team is blacked out at the motel, and even if they weren’t, there’s no service to call. Even if we walk, we aren’t getting there until daylight anyways.”

“If you had just listened at the last town-”

“Fuck! Okay! I get it! I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know the truck would break down.” Tyler yells, stepping closer to you. 

“It’s not my fault your truck is old and shitty!” You yell back. 

“No, but you could be less of a dick about all of this. I’m not trying to piss you off, but you because you hate me you’re apparently determined to make me feel like shit!”

You open your mouth and close it. Your faces are inches apart, only illuminated by his headlights. You feel his breath coming quickly, in cool puffs from whatever mints he kept popping, and for a split second your eyes dart down to his lips. You don’t say anything and neither does he, chests heaving as if waiting for the other to say something. 

“Can we just suck it up for tonight?” He says lowly. 

You swallow thickly and nod.

“Good.” He steps backwards, slamming the hood and going to grab the bedding to make up his truck bed, leaving you standing alone and questioning the sudden desire you’ve had to kiss Tyler Owens. 

When he’s done creating a makeshift bed, you clamber into the truck next to him. Neither you or him have changed into sleep clothes, him in those stupidly tight jeans and flannel, you in linen shorts and a tiny t-shirt. Not the most comfortable sleep clothes, but you both seem determined not to complain to the other.

Tyler gave you the right side, knowing you like to be on that side of the bed in whatever hotel you crash in. He gave you the only sleeping bag you have, leaving him covered only by a thin fleece blanket. It’s springtime in Oklahoma, and while its been warm for the last few days, the incoming storm brings a cold front that leaves you wishing you had a sweatshirt and that you couldn’t feel him curling tightly into himself to try and keep himself warm.  

You tuck your hand under your chin, musing to yourself about Tyler’s chivalry. He wasn’t bragging, and knew without asking. You know each other more well than either of you would ever like to admit. 

So you don’t hate Tyler. Maybe you like how determined he is to contribute to every project equally. Maybe you love how much he strives to make everyone feel included, and how he volunteers in towns that storms have hit badly, searching through rubble for precious lost items and offering free food to the locals. Maybe you steal his food right back, secretly hoping he doesn’t eat the blue and red sour gummy worms because he knows you like those best, buying the spicy pretzels because he off-handedly mentioned that he really liked them the first time you brought them. You don’t hate Tyler Owens at all, in fact you might like him more than you can possibly handle. 

You’re both facing away from each other, staring at the walls of the truck bed. You roll over to face him, greeted with his plaid covered back, the blanket comically small and barely covering his waist to feet. 

“Tyler?” You ask tentatively.

He grunts out a “Hm,” in response. 

“I don’t hate you.” You say meekly.

There’s a pregnant pause, filled with the sound of crickets from the nearby field. Tyler rolls over. “Sure have a funny way of showing it, darlin’.”

“Well, I-I don’t. I’m sorry if I made you think so.”

“It’s okay.” 

Crickets again, and you can’t help but notice him shiver again as a rough breeze lifts the ends of his hair from his forehead. Abruptly, you sit up, yanking down the edge of your t-shirt where it had ridden up and unzipping the sleeping bag. 

“What are you doing?” Tyler asks groggily. 

“You’re clearly cold. We’re both adults. We can share the sleeping bag like a blanket for tonight.”

Tyler’s green eyes are wide in the moonlight, looking up at you uncertainly.

“Really, darlin’, it’s okay. I don’t want you to-”

“Tyler, we’re sharing a blanket. It’s not like I’m asking you to cuddle or something.”

“You don’t want to?” Tyler teases, propping himself up onto his elbow, that relaxed, crooked grin making an appearance on his face. 

You laugh and it comes easily as your cheeks go pink, imagining your body pressed against Tyler’s, him holding you close. “Are you asking?”

Tyler shrugs, laying down again with the sleeping bag covering him and an open space for you next to him. “Just to stay warm, right?”

You swallow hard, nodding slightly. You can’t deny that you want to cuddle him.

“Right.” You echo, laying down next to him. 

Your back is pressed to his front as he tucks the sleeping bag and blanket into your side to trap any heat from escaping. Tyler carefully tucks a thigh between your knees, wrapping his arm around your middle to secure your bodies together. 

“That alright?” Tyler asks, voice husky and breathy in your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine as heat pools in your core.

You nod quickly, not trusting your voice not to waver and betray you. Tyler’s chest is firm and comforting at your back, his arm securing you to him as if he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers like sand. His breath comes in soft, even puffs against your neck. However close you were to sleep before, its all gone now. 

Tyler has consumed your senses. His touch, his scent, his voice, and you’re becoming very aware of his hardening cock against your ass. 

Fuck it, you decide, testing the waters and grinding ever so slightly back against him.

The soft groan he lefts out surprises you both and you freeze. Tyler grinds forward into your plush ass, pulling you ever tighter as he whispers.

“Now darlin’, I know that wasn’t an accident.”

You respond by grinding back again, whimpering as you feel him against you. He’s so close to where you want him and yet so far. 

“Please?” Is all you can manage, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation. Wether for in preparation for rejection or mortification, you aren’t sure. Tyler flips you over to face him, green eyes searching your own for any sort of hesitation or regret. 

“Kiss me.” You beg fervently, running a thumb over his lower lip. “Please, Tyler.”

You don't have to tell him twice as he surges into you. It’s hard and rough, yet romantic in a way that only he could manage to pull off. Those mints are still on his breath and you find yourself addicted to the taste as it mingles with the scent of whatever cologne he’s wearing. Tyler’s tongue prods gently into your mouth, exploring with gentle fervor. 

You’ve never understood just how romantic kissing with tongue could be until this moment. 

Tyler bites your lower lip, taking advantage of your shocked moan to haul you on top of him, cradling your cheek gently as he presses your body to his. He’s warm and smells intoxicating, like sandalwood and sage. You can feel him pressing into your thigh. 

Tyler’s fingers trail up your shirt, tracing the underwire of your bra. You sit up, pulling your shirt over your head as he stares at you with what must be awe. His lips are kiss-bitten and swollen but his eyes are wide as he takes in the view of you topless and perched on his thighs. 

He surges up to meet you, kissing you again and letting his hands rove over the newly revealed skin. Your body shudders with anticipation as he reaches behind him to yank off his own shirt. Toned, tan skin meets your hungry gaze and your eyes catch on a newly revealed scar at the base of his neck. You must know what it feels like under your tongue, so you attach your lips to it, biting softly.

Tyler lets out a guttural groan, filling his large hands with your ass through your jean shorts. 

You grind down onto him, moaning as the rough fabric of his jeans catch on your shorts just right. You must be soaked through your panties. Still, you rock forwards on his groin, him guiding your movements. Need is pooling in your lower abdomen- it must be pathetic how close you are just from grinding on him. Your motion becomes quicker, chasing a high you never knew could come so quickly.

“Does that feel good?” Tyler prompts, slapping your ass.

“Yes!” You cry out, raking your nails down his pecs to his abs. Ignoring the throbbing in your cunt from your abandoned orgasm, you slide down his body to mouth at him over his jeans. Eyes darting up to meet his, he gasps as you pull the zipper down. 

“Shit, baby. You gotta let me have a chance to-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish, instead trailing your hand to the waistband of his jeans. The soft hair of his happy trail meets your fingers as you dip your fingers inside and grab his thick cock. 

He groans like he’s been punched, when you first reach your fingers around him. Tyler changes his grip to fist his hands in your hair as you pull his jeans and boxers down, taking him out. 

No wonder he walks around like he does. He’s long and thick, with a thick vein trailing down the side. His tip is swollen and leaking cum, a rosy pink color you’d love to have a lipstick shade in, making you question why you’re waiting so long to have him in your mouth. 

When you first wrap your lips around him, Tyler sighs, the sound music to your ears as you take him more and more. What you can’t fit in your mouth, you pump gently with your fist. His breaths are coming in short jagged bursts.

“Fuck.” He cries out as you start bobbing your head. “I can’t believe I’ve been letting you run your mouth all this time when I could’ve been using it for- shit, this.” 

You love having the weight of him on your tongue, love the taste of him as you bring him closer to the edge. 

Abruptly, he pulls you off of him, eyes wild and crazed as he pulls you up to his mouth again. “I don’t want this to be over too fast, baby. I’ve gotta get my mouth on that pretty cunt.”

You let out a moan without thinking and he smirks.

“You like the idea of that, huh baby?”

You nod and he smiles, laying you down on your back. Where you were quick and eager, he was slow, taking his time as though you were something to be worshiped. Tyler took his time making his way down your chest, sucking your nipple into one mouth while he flicked the other with his fingers. You moaned softly as he lifted up his head, blowing cool air onto the hard bud. 

When he finally makes his way down to your core, you squirm. He presses a kiss over the top of your underwear before sliding them down your legs. Tyler spreads your legs, using his shoulders to hold you open as he drags a thick finger through your sopping folds, pausing to suck the finger into his mouth. 

“So goddamn’ wet, tell me how bad you need it, baby.” Tyler breathes, settling in. He rubs slow, tight circles on your clit, light enough to leaving you keening into his touch. He watches you intently as he waits for your reaction.

“So bad,” You whisper, “so, so bad.”

“What do you want?” Tyler teases, nudging your hole with his fingers. But he hold back, not quite giving you what you want without you asking.

“Your fingers. Your mouth, please Tyler.”

Tyler smirks, pushing his fingers into you and you gasp at the sweet intrusion. “Please, Tyler.” He mimics you, “I could get used to hearing that. Lucky for you, I’m desperate to taste your sweet pussy.”

He doesn’t give you a second to think, much less respond as he leans forward and licks a long stripe through you, thrusting and curling his fingers as he down so. You clench around him as he manages to find the right spot, barely curling his fingers before doing do. 

You gasp, pressing a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound.

“Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, darlin’.” He pulls your arm down, hand away from your mouth and lacing his unoccupied fingers through yours. His forearm bands across your waist, holding you in place as he sets his unwavering pace, rubbing your clit gently through it all. 

When he finally wraps his lips around your aching clit, you nearly scream, feeling him smirk into your wetness as the sound reaches his ears. “Atta girl. So sweet, baby. Come for me, I know you wanna.”

You can’t control yourself as you chase your high, grinding into his face. He moans as you do so, encouraging you as you chase your high. The sight of Tyler between your legs is nearly unholy, him deriving as much pleasure from it as you are. The thought turns you on even more as you feel back, all shame lost as you squeeze your eyes shut and stars bloom behind the shut lids. 

“Atta girl. Come for me baby, you’re so beautiful. This pussy is so sweet, so sweet for me. You gonna come for me? Let me feel this pussy come for me.”

Your high washes over you in a wave, warmth surrounding you as he works you gently through it. It finally starts to calm as Tyler presses a kiss you your clit, causing you to jolt up.

“‘S sensitive.” You whisper as he comes up to you, kissing you sweetly. His chin is wet, dripping with you and you can taste yourself on his tongue. The thought makes you want him more. 

“You did so good for me, baby.”  

You peel your eyes open as Tyler nudges his nose against yours. The action is sweet, but your mind isn’t on sweet. His cock is still resting against your thigh, throbbing, hard, and you’re desperate to be stuffed with it.

“Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t fuck me in the next minute, I’m going to kill you.” 

Tyler laughs, then groans, “Fuck, I don’t have a condom.”

“Don’t care.” You mumble, kissing him, “I’m clean and on birth control.”

Tyler groans, pressing his cock to your dripping pussy. “Thank fuck. Me too.” 

He pushes in slowly, and you grip his shoulders, lips ghosting over his in a silent moan when he bottoms out. Tyler stays still to let you adjust, an oddly romantic gesture. Then again, your last boyfriend didn’t give you a chance to adjust to the feeling and he wasn’t anywhere near Tyler’s size. Tyler must know that too, based on the gentle praise he’s whispering into your ear.

“Gotta move, baby.” Tyler says after a moment, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. 

You nod, digging your nails into his back and gripping the short blonde strands at the base of his neck, looking down at where your bodies join. You watch as Tyler pulls his hips from yours, relishing as the drag of his cock against your velvet walls. Tyler trusts back in sharply and you cry out as he sets a bruising pace. The way he moves is intoxicating, playing your body like a violin as he works you towards your high with just his cock. 

“You take it so fucking good, darlin’.” Jake sighs into your ear. You can only cry out in response as he hits that spot inside you again and again. 

Tyler trails his fingers down your body, never ceasing his movements as his fingers reach your swollen clit. He rubs tight circles on the nub, determined not to reach his high before you can get yours. 

“Tell me who makes you feel this good.” 

“You, Tyler!” You maon breathlessly, tugging at his hair again, “So good. You’re so fucking good.”

Tyler groans shamelessly into your ear. 

“Atta girl. I know you want it. Come for me, baby. Let go.”

Stars bloom from behind your eyes as your whole body goes hot, coming with his names on your lips. You feel like Jell-O as he pulls your orgasm from your body. Yet, he slows down as your clench around him, coming down from your high. 

When you open your eyes, Tyler is gazing sweetly down at you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “All good, darlin’?” 

You don’t say anything, rolling your hips in response. You take advantage of his shocked expression and agape mouth to slip off of him and flip him over. Before he can open his mouth to speak, you’ve mounted him and are riding him within an inch of your own life. 

Tyler’s emerald eyes are wide as he gazes up at you, running his hands from your hips to your breasts, squeezing tightly as he gasps sharply. He thrusts up to meet you with every rock of your hips. Tyler is looking at you like you hung the moon and stars, pure wonder in his eyes. It only spurs you on; you like being under his gaze. 

“Gon- gonna- fuck, baby.” Tyler moans, “so fucking good for me.”

You rake your nails down his chest as he thrusts quickly and messily. You don’t stop as you feel him spill inside you. Slowly, you still your movements and slip off of him. He turns to look at you as you flop next to him. Tyler doesn’t say anything as he pulls you into his side, brushing a thumb up and down your spine. 

“Never would have taken Tyler Owens for a cuddler.” You mumble, kissing gently at his pec. You feel his laugh rumble though his chest. You tangle your legs with his, snuggling closer to him. 

“Is this just a tonight thing?” His voice permeates the silence.

You sigh, looking up at him. For once, he looks unsure and timid, afraid of your answer. 

“If you want it to be.” Is what you reply, feeling nerves settle in the pit of your stomach at his question. 

“Honestly? I don’t. Been chasing you for years, baby.”

“So ask me out.” You sit up, legs still tangled with his and blanket pooling around your waist, “and I’ll say yes.”

Tyler swallows hard, eyes catching on your exposed chest and pebbled nipples. “As simple as that?”

“As simple as that.” You smile reassuringly, placing a hand on his cheek. Tyler turns his head slightly, pressing a chaste kiss to the palm of your had. Instead of saying anything else, he pulls you back down into a searing kiss, holding you close as the sound of the Oklahoma night lulls you both to sleep.