#only if it actually benefits you though because you still come first even if he cant stand zl snd hes not dragging you into it

[astracora]

Drunken Confession - Rafayel

Characters: Rafayel x gn!mc

Warnings: Very Drunk MC and Rafayel, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2656

Written: 26th February 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship, with Rafayel and the main MC I write for. I am still feeling super soft from Raffy's birthday trailer, so this one is even more sappy.

Masterlist AO3

<- Caleb <-Zayne <-Xavier

Rafayel sulks, all through listening to Thomas talk. He had finally convinced you to come with him to an exhibit not as his bodyguard, and as his actual date. Though he hadn't quite used the words.

You hadn't really taken the offer overly seriously, he supposes the jovial tone he'd used hadn't lent itself to you hearing 'Just be my date for tonight, Cutie' as what he truly meant, 'Stay by my side forever'. You had agreed though, allowing him to pick you out an outfit to match his own.

Normally when you accompanied him, you kept your weapons at your side, and wore the same outfits he saw you fighting in. Too serious, too prepared to actually do the job he'd 'hired' you for. There were times he almost regretted that that was the only idea he could come up with, to keep you close. The first thought in his mind.

He'd had to think of something, after all. He just hadn't expected you to take it so seriously.

He'd be grouchy about his ability to protect himself, and you, if it weren't so delightful seeing you so willing to fight for him.

The moment he'd walked in with you, holding your hand tightly, fingers entwined, joy thrumming through his veins, he'd been excited for an exhibit. An odd feeling, his love for art, often tempered by the fact that it was his job. That his pursuit of inspiration through pain, meant to profit off the agony of his people, of his dying world.

A reminder every day, that he had gotten here off the backs of the lost.

Your presence brought him a sense of calm, he wanted to drown in. It had not lasted long, he'd been pulled away by Thomas to talk to people. Those who wanted to buy his works, those who wanted to talk his ear off over how they felt over his pieces. Those who simply wanted to be seen with him, for their own benefits.

An exhausting way to spend time, when instead he could be showing you his work, asking you what you thought. You'd given him that small uncomfortable smile, and pulled away, disappearing into the crowds, telling him you'd be fine.

He knows you won't be fine. You dislike crowds, the noises overwhelm and you want to avoid events like this. You come because you care, and you want to protect him as his bodyguard. Otherwise you'd rather visit him at the studio, watch him paint, or walk along the beach with him.

Rafayel would prefer that too.

He fidgets and looks around, as people are talking at him, trying to stifle his urge to yawn. He doesn't want yet another lecture from Thomas, that keeps him from your company a moment longer.

It's impossible to spot you, unable to find the flash of red in your outfit like Reddie's tail, or the white hair.

His patience wears thin, already stretched to its limits, fracturing and ready to snap at a moment. He has to get out of this droll conversation, with people he doesn't care about. Thomas is an exception, and even then, there are places he'd rather be. People he'd rather see.

"I need the toilet." Rafayel blurts out. If he wasn't ready to start a small fire just to get out of the conversation, he'd cringe inwardly at his choice of escape.

He really had to work on his spontaneous methods to solve problems.

Ignoring the looks he gets, and the sigh Thomas releases, he escapes. Running away like he's desperate, which he is. Just not for what they think.

Scouring the room, he eventually finds you, hidden away in a corner, rubbing at your arm, draining a glass of champagne you turn your nose up at. As you finish it, you scowl at it, like the taste has insulted you. He passes a waiter, slips him some money, takes the entire tray, and sneaks up behind you.

"Hey cutie, you here alone?" He speaks over your shoulder, watching as you jump, stepping back. You almost slip, before his hand takes your waist, pulling you closer, and steadying you.

When you see him, and see his smile, you smile back. Relieved, and saved.

He preens a little at the expression, at the warmth in your eyes. At the way you're comforted by him.

"I am. My date," You stress the word, turning your face away from him, "abandoned me to be very important." You aren't fully turned away, peering at him out the corner of your eye, unable to fight back the amusement.

He hands you a glass, "Spend some time with me then, I'm far less important. You could have me all to yourself." You take it from him, tilting it up to your mouth. "We could go somewhere quieter?"

It's a serious question, and as he watches you drink, balancing the tray in one of his hands, he gets a small idea. Placing the tray in your free hand, and darting off. When he returns, he's holding a full bottle of it in hand.

You blink at him, and then laugh, almost spilling your drink as you raise your hand to cover your mouth. Trying to muffle the noise, so no one comes to find the both of you, "Are you trying to get me drunk and alone, fishie?"

His grin is buoyed and boyish, he knows that. "Of course, cutie. Come on." He waits for you to put the now empty glass in your hand down, abandoning the tray, but taking two empty glasses, and then he pulls you with him. Out the back of the exhibit hall, into the surrounding gardens.

They're normally closed off when an event is happening, but he happily uses his EVOL to melt through the lock. If Thomas looked he'd figure it out, but the chances of it getting pinned on him, is low enough to be worth the risk. At worst he'd have to pay for a new lock, he assumes.

You still give him a scandalised look, and fight the amusement back as you poke him in the side, "Raffy, if you get in trouble for this-"

"It's fine, cutie. No one will know." Probably.

As he tugs you along, he imagines for a moment, running away from a wedding. His new spouse at his side, his heart thundering in his chest at your beck and call, and finding somewhere you can be alone.

A daydream on a fish's fin, amidst turbulent tides.

It still makes the mark on his chest burn, yearning and desire, keeping his heart alive.

When he finds a sufficient place, he pulls you down into grass, catching the glasses before they fall from your grasp. The two of you sit, surrounded by flowers and shadows, and he snaps his fingers, to call a small flame to light up your face. The shadows cast across your cheeks, the laughter in your face. The slight wavering to your eyes.

You are almost in his lap, close enough he could reach out and pull you into it. To distract himself, he fills a glass for you, handing it over, and fills his own. Downing it quickly, and starting on another, then another, until he feels sufficiently caught up to you.

Alcohol always makes it just a little bit easier, for him to wear out the edges of his grief. To soften the lines of his bitter pain. To look at you and quieten the agony of so many lost memories.

The bottle doesn't last long, as the more he drinks, and the more you drink, the closer the two of you get. His cheeks are heated, and he's glad for the small fiery fish swimming to help you see each other, because it cannot reveal just how flushed he is. Just how quickly the alcohol affects him.

You lie with your legs over his lap, his fingers drift over your leg, drawing patterns on your skin as you talk. Animated, hands moving, occasionally sitting up quickly just to poke at his cheeks.

"I definitely saw one of those really rich guys, spill a drink down himself. He was stood at the side scrubbing furiously."

"Never drink red wine at these things, if you're wearing a white shirt, I learned that the hard way."

You sit up, moving so you can sit on his lap, pinching his cheeks, "Did the fishie make a mess?"

For a moment he can't speak, looking down at you. At how you're sat, pressed against him. One arm draped over his shoulder, as you pinch, and pull just a bit. He swallows, once, and before you can realise how close you are, he pulls you closer. One arm around your waist, one hand taking yours wear it pinches at his cheeks.

His voice is a little shaky when he speaks, and he wants to shake himself to be calmer. Sauve, maybe? Can he be sauve right now?

"All over myself. Right in front of some of the investors Thomas spent weeks wining and dining. Horrible. He lectured me for hours."

You laugh, softly, head falling down to his shoulder, nose brushing against his neck, and his head feels fuzzy. The sensation of your skin so warm against his, that feels like ice. Goosebumps raise at every point you touch. He can't tell what is the alcohol and what is the bond. What is you.

"It's not funny cutie, I was humiliated." He whines, hand tangling your fingers together, so that he can carefully brush your fingertips over his lips. He almost whines for a very different reason. The line between the person he wants to be with you, and the person he is underneath the bravado thinning. "I can't believe my bodyguard wouldn't support me in my agony."

Your fingers pinch his lips, making them pucker, but your other hand runs through the back of his hair, easing into his scalp. His hips jump, jostling you in his lap, and he bites down on the noise he almost lets out. "Who is this bodyguard, Raffy? I thought I was your date."

The word is stressed again, but this time, your eyes are in front of him. Mismatched gaze focusing on his own. Looking in his face for something. Head tilting to the side, hair falling over your eyes.

He doesn't know if you find it, but you lean back on his shoulder again.

"You're right." He speaks through a tight throat, "I brought my date here to show them my work."

"Your date sees your work often."

"Are you bored of it?" It hurts more to ask than he thought it would. There's a feeling of fear lurking under the words. Something that he puts so much of himself into… he doesn't want you to not find worth in it.

Anyone else can think whatever they like about his worth. He just wants you to value him, his pain, his love, everything he offers.

You must hear it, able to see parts of him, even when he hides them. No matter how hard he tries to only show you what he wants you to see, he always seems to trip up. Always seems to leave a crack in the wall. Sitting back up, your hands moving to his cheeks, so you can turn his face this way and that.

"Bored?" You ask, incredulous, eyes widening. You look stunned, shocked and confused. Like the very concept stuns you. You shake your head, overly quickly, as though trying to force the point home. Before you have to steady yourself against him. Letting out a groan. "Shouldn't have shaken my head that much." He moves his hand from your waist to your neck. Easing circles into the back of it, to help with the onset of dizziness.

He really should have brought out some water too. He can feel the hazy heat in his own head, the slight delay in his vision.

You eventually relax again, smile returning, "I could never be bored of you Raffy." Your thumb brushes over his lips, and he kisses it quickly before he misses his chance. "I want to always keep seeing the world you do. Every painting, every sculpture, every song."

Leaning over, you press a kiss to his cheek, and he wants to cry. Barely fights the urge to cling to you and sob. To beg you to stay there forever, and never ever leave him.

He wants to share everything with you, tell you about the pain that shapes his world, share every secret he's ever had, all his feelings, all his thoughts. He wants you to know him better than anyone else ever could hope to.

He wants to never release your hand, for the rest of eternity. No matter how many incarnations of you he has to find. No matter how much it hurts to be forgotten, to be lost, to keep looking for you no matter what, that he has to deal with the bitter hurt and the cold edge of pain. That he would do it over and over and over again, as long as you look at him, and touch him, and love him.

He is bound to you, and he wants you to be as bound to him.

Even if he is terrified of you seeing him, every version of him, and fearing him or hating him.

Even if you could never truly understand him, not really.

Because he will not let you. He cannot.

To be so vulnerable, to the one he loves, is a Lemurian's greatest strength and weakness.

When the moment comes, he hopes you dance through the pyre together, and drown together. He's sure he'll be able to turn that into his greatest painting, his most heartfelt song.

"Keep showing me your world Rafayel. Forever, alright?" You urge, squeezing his cheeks, and shaking him from his thoughts. "As your bodyguard, or as your date." The tease comes back to your voice, but your eyes are steady, your expression serious. You're opening the door for him, so he can step through when he's ready.

"Maybe one day I'll paint you, cutie." He manages on a whisper, leaning forwards, nose brushing yours. So close he might kiss you. Your eyes flutter closed, but he cannot cross the line. Fingers trembling against your skin, so he moves past your lips, chin resting on your shoulder, lips at your ear. "Stay with me forever, and I will."

He clings to you, in his lap, holding you against him, willing you to make a promise that will bond you in the same way as he is bonded to you. His word your chain, like yours are his. Mutual and constricting in all the ways he wants. You're worlds apart, and he wishes for more than anything, for you to be able to cross a line impossible to join him in his, or he in yours. Ever since he was a child, even now as an adult.

"I promise." You speak, and he knows it's a drunken haze, and he knows you'll forget tomorrow, and he knows that you'll forget so much more, no matter how much the knowledge aches.

He knows your promise cannot bind you like his will bind him. He also knows you do not lie to him, as easily as he lies to you.

So consciously aware of every part of the divide of ocean and land. Of human and lemurian. Of everything that means he cannot truly be understood by you, as long as you do not remember everything that mattered before. Even though it aches.

Still, he watches the sunrise with you in his arms, as the both of you ease into slumber.

And he makes a note to paint his heart one day, decorate a canvas with it, even if you never were easy to capture on paper.

[lovesickeros]

zhongli and neuvillette fighting over their reader 🤭🤭

scary dog privilege wherever you go, draconic courting gestures that would scare any regular person, they send each other deadly glares the moment you turn away,

stealing your clothes to just get a whiff of your scent, marking their territory all over your house - making it a battlefield basically, neuvillette (in my hc) is cooler and zhongli is warm so the cuddles are always so comfy ☺️😍,

they give you anything you want - you don't even have to lift a finger, they make you travel between the nations a lot though 😒 sooo clingyyy, extra gentle in their dragon forms as to not squish you, don't even get me started on the size difference 😍😍

just a little thought 🤭☺️

- 🐈‍⬛

Neuvi being colder is so real and canon. I see him as being colder + a lot more lithe, kinda lanky with smaller but sharper canines versus Zhongli who's warmer and a bit shorter then Neuvi + bulkier with bigger but not as sharp canines.

They've also got very different habits – Zhongli is very prideful not just of himself but his nation. He'll personally give your a tour and purposely drag it out as long as he can. Complimenting Liyue is basically complimenting him, checkmate Neuvi. Especially if he convinces you to try on some local Liyue fashion. Harmless and just a nice gift to anyone else but Neuvi sees it for what it is (since your wearing something from Liyue, technically wearing something of his. He loves his technicalities when it comes to staking a claim over you). Adds salt to the wound by touching you in totally innocent ways like to adjust you towards something he wants to show you or accidently brushing against you when he takes the bags of spoils he's practically drowning you in but really he's just making sure his scent sticks. He's just a sweet, nice gentleman with absolutely no ulterior motives trust.

Neuvillette does love Fontaine, but his habits are more about himself then the nation. He'll take you around if you ask or if the idea strikes him, but you'll probably stay around the making city area or the opera house specifically. He enjoys more personal time with just you and him then anything else. He values the immaterial to the material. Zhongli spoils you with gifts, but Neuvi tries to offer quality time irregardless of physical gifts (though he still gives them just not to the extent of Zhongli). He'll take you to see different operas if that's to your fancy, or leverage a bit of his authority to maybe see a few films since those seem to be hitting off in Fontaine recently. Bet that creaky old archon doesn't have those huh. He feels awkward if you want to watch a trial, but he'll reluctantly agree because. well. it's you. just don't wave or anything he's trying to work and he just Really wants to see you smile at him like that again and it makes him lose his train of thought. gets custom clothes designed by Chiori to replace your clothes from Liyue because they smell of Zhongli and it makes him sulky + he likes to match.

G-d forbid these two are in the same room as you because it's a war of attrition at that point. Constant accidental brush of the hand against your shoulder or elbow but it's just them trying to get rid of the others scent. they are side eyeing each other behind your back while being all smiles whenever your looking. If it's hot and you lean into Neuvi more he's practically GLOWING. not even smug he's just absolutely smitten and happy to be of service. immediately takes off his gloves and presses his hands to your face asking if your okay and if you want to go back with him. if it's cold out and you seek out Zhongli more hes smug as hell beneath the calm veneer. Offers you his coat and stay as physically close to you as he can under the pretense of being worried you'll catch a cold if he doesn't warm you up.

don't even get me started on your house either because you probably have tons of gifts from both of them accumulated everywhere. if Neuvi sees you use a tea set from Zhongli suddenly he had a fantastic gift idea he thought you'd like. he even got some tea included with it so why don't you let him make you some? Zhongli sees you using a goblet Neuvi gave you (totally a coincidence it's similar to his) and suddenly you have 27 square cups in your cabinets that you have no idea where they came from. if the goblet is mysteriously missing oh well. who knows :]

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

pt 2 -> control

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 

[passmethatcokezero]

hot and bothered... (18+ // woozi!friends with benefits au) pt. 2

- jihoon x fem!reader - 4.4k words - warnings: smut. minors dni! bff!woozi is hot and bothered at work so bff!you came to the rescue, here comes the hoo-haa!, penetration, mention of pills (ALWAYS use protection!), overstimulation, loud af on bed!jihoon (we love a moaning and whimpering man) goshwhy is needy Jihoon so hot, friends-to-lovers (almost), some fluff here and there. enjoy! - tagging: @cherrylovescheol @syluslittlecrows

[ part one ]

The clothes that once added a sense of thrill to your heated session were now flying across the room. No more game-changers or whatnot, there is a mutual craving to be satisfied and you both wanted it now.

Albeit having your patience tested by the journey home, the kiss you two shared has never been this innocent and slow (not like you two have had so many.) This time felt like something in the air had just shifted, and you two were savoring the newfound connection. His weight on top of yours, lightly, careful not to crush you. Slightly suffocating as your mouth is being occupied but still bearable, it even makes you feel safe and comfortable. Your hands softly treading through his hair until you found a spot to tug onto as he deepens the kiss, dipping his now bare hips to the bare yours.

The hint of contact of his hardened cock to your dripping pussy had you arching your back, almost pulling his hair as you unintentionally broke the kiss. He smirked, trying to hide the hiss he just made and how the contact almost had him exploding as well. You were too wet for his sanity, and he knows it’s because of him, and now only for him.

“So… how would you like to be fucked tonight, princess?”

You choked, almost wanting to slap him for making you laugh, or maybe you weren’t used to him actually calling you princess in ways other than snarky, when he only called you that to mock you for your bratty tendencies.

“I’d like to make it quits. You made me feel like royalty earlier.” He kisses your neck down to your chest.

“Actually, I don’t mind the tempo right now.” You had your eyes close, trying to feel the trail of kisses his supple lips leave onto your shivering skin. “Just don’t tease too much or—”

“Or what?” he smirks once again, this time being a full-time menace, rubbing his dripping tip against your wet folds.

“Fuck you,” you glared at him with hooded eyes, brows furrowed from annoyance mixed with lust. “Fuck you, Jihoon.”

“My pleasure, princess.”

Jihoon cannot stop thinking, does edging turn you on? Or you just wanted to take your time? He knows he isn't your first. You had told him about the guy you met in college, a total bastard who left some cash the next morning and a rather sweet note of thanks as if it could console your shattered ego. Or that selfish one who only fucked you for quick satisfaction. And this woman who made you feel so good you almost had a thing for scissors until you realized it was just a spur of the libido confusing your sexuality.

But Jihoon, he never told you he actually never had sex. The workaholic never had a relationship, but somehow you had always thought he must have been getting laid because how on earth could he subtly refer to making love on some of his lyrics if has not had one? The only thing you knew about his sex life was how he actually had his own moments most of the time, just like how he confessed in the studio earlier. Oh and that one time you gifted him a fleshlight as a payback for gifting you a vibrator on your eighteenth birthday because you imposed on him and your group of friends that you will only be accepting useful things for your birthday from then on (that was the first time he called you princess, by the way).

His hand made its way to your abdomen down to your mound, even though his dick was itching to just finish the night off. But like what he said, it’s his pleasure to give you a royalty treatment tonight.

His finger did not need much time to tease your opening, and slips right into your hole with ease. “Jihoon-ah…” you whimpered his name, as his mouth met yours after telling you how tight you were.

His slender finger creating friction with your hole was enough to send you into a moaning mess while his mouth conquers your chest, giving both nipples attention as equals as he can.

“So wet, for me.” Indeed, he was right. You must like edging and keeping your release until you cannot anymore. What a naughty princess, he thinks. Another finger joins in, knowing one cannot stretch you out to his size. 

Jihoon’s is thick, there’s no denying you had your fair share of curiosity about it since you have seen a hint of it when he wears his favorite sweatpants. But of course, you wanted to remain wholesome so you just shrug away some unthinkable thoughts that once crossed your mind, at least that was before the first kiss you two shared. Ever since then, there had been a few times you allowed yourself to think about him when you were horny because, how would it feel, having that kind of feisty relationship with someone you hold close?

“Aren’t you a little too tight?” Beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead and you were unsure if he was just exerting a lot of effort fingering you, or maybe holding himself from jumping into you. He retracts his hand and kisses you again, before slipping his fingers coated in your juice straight into his mouth. He moaned into a lip bite. How come you tasted so sweet, just like how he must have imagined?

He was really down bad and aching for you he did not have any idea he just said that out loud.

“You’ve thought of me?”

“What? Did I…?”

You chuckled at how his eyes went wide, “Yes, you just said that out loud.”

“God I’m fucked…” He mumbled under his breath.

“You can have more,” you told him, widening your legs which signalled him to get in between and he did not waste time thinking if you really just said that, just like how he did not catch himself saying his thoughts out loud.

His mouth was warm, making you feel things and even questioning yourself if you’re doing something so sinful right now, having someone not your boyfriend eating you out while you were arching your back and moaning his name out loud for your neighbors to hear. You can’t help it, his tongue was so good flicking your clit and playing with your hole while sending vibrations through his moans, all the while staring at you with hooded eyes like was trying to engrave that image of you writhing under his spell in his mind to become a memory he would like to go back to anytime he wanted to. Oh, you’re just so glad he is just married to his work and nobody else. 

There were tears in your eyes already, trying to hold back the impending release. He was just so naturally talented at eating you out that you did not realize you were humping his mouth wanting for more. Jihoon, who has been really attentive throughout the night, tried to increase intensity when he heard your moans pitching higher, turned airy as if you were losing your voice to the nirvana you surrendered yourself into.

“Jihoon, I’m close… fuck…” his fingers once again made contact with your hole, fucking your spot as his tongue focused its pressure on your clit. The stimulation was too much taht you began seeing white at the back of your eyes, and not long enough you were clenching around his fingers.

“Go on, come for me,” amid the clouding of your hearing, you heard Jihoon’s voice sounded hoarse, which made you feel even hotter causing you to squirm and finally release your cum.

He was quick to slurp you clean of your release, humming at every sip as if it was his favorite drink. Not even coke zero can make him moan the way your taste quenches his thirst for you.

He then wipes his mouth with his arm, “I can have that all day,” he hisses and proceeds to make your mouth his again, tasting yourself in the process. It was wild, you thought, you’ve never really tasted your own even though you had been curious before. And now you just had to, straight from your friend’s delectable tongue.

The kiss once again turns somewhat slow, as you calm yourself from your high while he preserves his energy for perhaps another round if you’re not too tired enough. Anyway, his cock is still hard. It's like a never-ending cycle now because you wanted him to come, a testament to the kind of relationship you have—a very generous one. 

“I like how you kiss me…” you blurted all of a sudden. “They feel like… confessions I have never gotten.”

His eyes meet yours, a gaze like a thousand stars have been sucked inside it. It was one you’ve rarely seen him with, one which only comes out when he talks about how proud he is of the current song he is working with, or that one time you two had hours of debate over the best animes you have ever watched.

“Never gotten? Or never taken?” he wanted to ask, rhetorically that is, but his lips never moved, nor his voice made even a minute of a sound. He’d rather kiss you again, and tell you more of the words that had stayed hidden behind the walls of his mouth. He’d rather have his tongue tied for now, if it means with yours and let his actions speak. Even if you won’t still get it.

He liked the way you kissed him too, if only he could tell. He liked how your mouth synchronizes with his, and moves in perfect harmony. He liked how you get sloppy sometimes when you are trying to catch your breath, or how you adjust when it is him who gets messy because his mind just can’t control his speed. Or how you moan inside his mouth, warm breath enveloping his wet cavern that sends electricity throughout his body. He liked the way his tongue fights for dominance with yours, but even more so when they’re just simply dancing to the rhythm of his heartbeats.

Lost in thoughts, he did not realize you had him toppled over until he felt your hand over his chest, and your damp folds grazing against his girth.  “Ah fuck…” both of you chorused, making him chuckle.

“If you want it so bad…”

“Yeah, acting as if you weren’t the one who almost broke my door coming here.” you rebutted, rolling your eyes.

“It got stuck!”

“It’s extra protection!”

“Oh shit, now that you said it” he suddenly perks up, “I almost forgot,” he says squandering about to get to his pants, flailing to the air a foil packet he had been keeping in his wallet. 

“Are you sure that thing is not expired?”

He scoffs as he makes his way back to bed, “actually, maybe.” he checks the packet and to his horror, it has been way past due. “Yeah yeah, way to slap me in the face. Thanks, universe.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to laugh, oh my gosh.” you were almost brought to tears by the comedic timing of it all. He really had not gotten laid. Poor boy, everyone knows he very much deserved it considering he had been busy his entire life.

“I have pills, don’t worry.” his face lights up, but it is still evident how annoyed he was at the situation.

“I’m sorry, I… I won't forget next time…” and then his own words struck him. “Shit, I mean—”

You chuckled at the flushing of his face. He looked so embarrassed, you did not have the heart to tease him anymore assuming there would be more sexy encounters after today. Besides, you’ve been craving for some action now.

“You know I can always keep you company—that is until I get myself a boyfriend,” you pulled him close, as you settled underneath him, head nested in between his two arms that support his weight.

His eyes once again turned soft, as one hand began tracing your cheek, trailing to the back of your ear. “I think… I know someone,” nose scrunching while smiling ear to ear, his eyes turned crescent at his own words, cringing at what sounded like a hard-sell.

“Oooh, I’d like to meet him,” your smirk drowns in the kiss that once again began, while his body shifts so that his tip aligns with your entrance. Your knees instinctively wrap around his waist. 

“I’m going in, “ he says in courtesy when he had his head right in your opening, making both of you gasp for air. You didn’t even ask for it but nonetheless had you melting for his consideration, especially when he adds, “You wanted it slow, right?”

And with your nod, he goes in painfully slowly that gradually leaves you in pleasure. He was hard and thick, your hole contracting to his size as it delicately found its way inside. It was your first time for so long you forgot dicks can get this big. You clung onto him, while his mouth rested just by your ears, whispering sweet nothings to comfort you.

He kisses you passionately as your warmth envelopes him whole, taking time for you to adjust. He was a perfect fit inside, as if his cock was molded out of your hole, and it's driving you crazy the breathy moans just wont stop coming out of your lungs. You slowly opened your eyes and it was met by his, looking intently at your face with the same thought plastered on his face: you want him just as much as he wants you—both your eyes tell, no words needed. 

He began moving his hips in long thrusts to initiate his rhythm. Mouths hovering over another, catching each others’ breaths as your hips met his. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath as he increases his speed as well as the depth of his thrust. “You feel so, so good.”

Jihoon was just as loud as you are, if not louder. You kinda liked it, a man moaning to his pleasure, not afraid to admit how needy he can be nor stingy for reactions. And you had to admit, it just turned you on even more. 

“Jihoon… fuck… you’re so hot.” 

Jihoon, feeling the rush of wetness from inside you and also hearing his name through your whimpers, was going insane stopping himself not to pound onto you, drilling into your hole until you were begging for mercy. You were just so wet that it makes it so much easier to thrust inside deeper and faster, but he can save it for another time. For now, you were his princess, he keeps reminding himself. He’s got orders to fulfill, unless you amend it yourself, he will gladly obey.

“You’re so fucking wet… and tight… fuck.” he trailed the last word as he increased his intensity unknowingly, which you didn’t mind. 

“Harder… please…” 

He follows suit, pulling far and pushing deep into you in perfectly timed intervals. He definitely got rhythm, perks of being a composer, you thought, you have to tell him that later as a compliment.

“Like that, oh sh- ahh…” you cannot even form words anymore, the way he makes you feel so good was almost inconveniencing the wiring of your brain. Your body now sprawled on the bed, no other movements, just your back arching and…

And your fingers interlaced with his.

The scene felt like two passionately infatuated people making love. You two were connected south of your heated bodies, but that did not seem enough for him; he had to lock his free hand with yours just by his chest.  Heck you did not even notice how he planted kisses on the back of your hand when you were busy trying to savor how inch by inch your hole gets filled.

He is great in bed, you gotta admit, and he can be romantic as well. Why was he single again?

“I… I think I’m…” close. He knows. He felt you clenching around him.

“Yeah,” he speeds up, as he can feel him coming too. “Together?”

You nod mindlessly, gasping at the speed he is now going. The pitch ofn his moans went higher, almost sounding like a cry. The thrusting went on not long before both of you finally climaxed in unison. His forehead rests on yours, hand on your cheeks and weight slumped onto you as he rides out your high. He’d like to believe that got him tired, but not exhausted. He can definitely go for rounds given he gets rest for a while, if he gets permission that is.

He groans as he pulls himself out, a decision which gained a whine from you. The guy just chuckles as he pumps himself dry. The view looked mesmerizing, him with an afterglow, sweaty in full glory, and face contorting to pleasure accompanied by guttural moans he did not try to suppress even a bit. You imagined, does he look like that, flushed in red, shining from the little light inside the room, when he touches himself?  You thought there's nothing sexier than a JIhoon who is fully immersed in his projects. Well, you just have gotten corrected.

You leaned into him, feeling his breath touch your lips. Your eyes still hooded from your release, and you’re still a bit sensitive but damn, you’re craving for more.

“You look hot like that,” you just had to say it. There’s nothing to lose in being honest in words and in action, right?

“Uh-huh, how’s that for a boyfriend?”

“I’d love it,” You bit your lips, standing on your knees to straddle him in between. Your eyes are still hooded, and your hole sensitive. But damn, your friend over here just looked a little too irresistible and you just craved for more.

You sat on his thigh as your mouth found its way to his neck, hitting that sweet spot of his right off the bat. He was hissing at the contact, leaning backwards with support of his one arm. “No way… You’re going to make me hard again in no time.”

That’s exactly what you were aiming for. The night has just started anyway. Might as well spend the whole time enthusiastically riding out fantasies. Jihoon himself had too many of them. He got advantage, he need not think hard and just live the dream. Daydeams, rather.

The guy cannot believe he is not gonna touch his fleshlight tonight. You were here right on top of him, making out as you went down on him, reaching the twitching target that was just gaining filled up yet again.

Your tongue traced his shaft from its base, maintaining eye contact with him. He tried so hard to keep it, but failed because your naughty tongue makes it difficult for him to. The process was all too familiar, you had your own practices at this very mattress accompanied by your dildo when you’re alone. The fascinating thing now is that you witness it grow right in front of your eyes as you give your full attention to it.

“How are you so good at this—hmmphhfuck!” His brows are furrowed and mouth hanging wide, obviously having the time of his life watching your mouth take him in whole. He has gone full erect in no time after bucking his hips for a few seconds and then deciding he misses your pussy around him.

“Come here baby,” he pulls you for a kiss, with your knees automatically straddling him in between. It was like he had been away for a long time the way your arms wrapped around his shoulder, kissing him deeper. Your throbbing wet folds full of arousal was resting against his pulsating girth, making you moan in between kisses.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” his kisses went sloppy as he goes into your neck, and also your chest, giving your erect nipples more attention it deserves.

“God… I need you too, Jihoon-ah…. I need more please….”

You did not need to beg, but hearing it with your needy voice and lustful eyes had him acting from adrenaline, pulling your body closer, groping you as if you would even run away from his arms. His cock was poking your entrance by then, and you let yourself sink on it almost immediately without warning.

“Fuck!” screamed halfway through, when Jihoon himself thrusted up so he can fill you in, albeit he himself is still a bit sensitive.

The sting was quick to be washed out by sensual gratification as the overstimulation picked up your pace when you began riding him. 

“Holy shit,” tears well up in your eyes, as you writhe in pleasurable pain. Jihoon too was moaning out loud, gaining his momentum in thrusting upwards as fast as he could. Your bodies were clinging into each other, sweats mixing and skin slapping, but nothing matters. Not the sound of pattering rain drops outside the window, nor the volume of your moans that may have already reached the maximum your walls can hide, not even the creaking of the bed that has reached the floorboards. Only the pleasure you share is important right now, and nothing should come in between.

“Hold it, please…” Jihoon spoke in behind his gritted teeth when he felt you clenching around him. “Please… just….a little bit more…” He goes on thrusting, losing his rhythm once in a while due to his greed in taking his precious time with your clenched pussy.

You can feel him holding his release as well through his flexed thigh muscles and his eyes shut tight. “Fuck I dont wanna cum yet… i dont wanna cum… please….”

You were already shaking your head, arms hugging him tight to support yourself. His moans suddenly dips as he chokes on his own, and then gradually changes into whimpers like he is the neediest person in town.

“Ji… I can’t….hold it—” exhaling a breathy moan, you squirmed in his arms, head falling down his shoulder while panting heavily from your release. Jihoon came simultaneously, filling you up as he stayed inside for a while, catching his breath to its normality. Both pulsating and sensitive, no one dared to move a single muscle.

It took a while when one of you was consciously looking for the other’s lips. It was a simple kiss, a short one, but holds a lot of words he’s been meaning to tell you. He cooes, your name sweetly slipping off his drying throat.

“Hmm?” you hummed, as you rested your forehead against his, letting his hand cup your cheeks. 

“What do you think?”

You chuckled at his words. He is insufferable. He really can’t wait until you’re all cleaned up and cozy? 

“Actually, save it. I gotta clean up my princess before anything else.”

If there was an award for being the most outstanding service of an aftercare, Jihoon would have another plaque to be displayed somewhere not in his studio. It was a premium experience, even getting warm towels for the both of you before submerging you in a hot, bubble bath, complete with aromatherapy applying your lavender-scented lotion all over you right after. Stepping out of the bathroom in robes, he goes straight to your kitchen, you following him behind. He insisted actually, he wanted you to stay comfortable in your room, but you figured you did not need that right now. You just enjoyed his company way too much tonight, and you can’t seem to find another spot at home comfortable unless he was right beside you.

He prepares you a cup of warm tea just as how you preferred while he picks some drink available in your fridge.

“Banana milk? Are you sure? I’ve got juice over there.”

“Yeah, this is fine.”

“Sorry, no soda.” you shrugged with an apologetic smile.

You were sitting at the high chairs by your mini bar, with him by the edge as he pokes the carton with the straw. You stared at him for a moment, head full but no thoughts being formed.

“Ah, you were asking earlier,” you broke the stare before he senses it. “I’d be honest with you and say, that was probably the best sex I have ever had so far.”

“Pfft,” he laughs, without looking at you, trying to hid the blush forming on his cheeks. Too bad you can see his ears reddening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah…” at this point you were trying to calm the butterflies that started fluttering inside your stomach, distracting yourself as you dunk the teabag in the fully saturated cup of water. What is this sudden, stupid feeling in your gut? “Gotta give credit to your musicality. You’ve got a perfect rhythm. Oh and how your moans harmonized with mine. It literally sounded like music. You were also good with your mouth, and how you touch me. Attentive as well, the entire night. And the aftercare was a total royal treatment! And uhm…” you paused when you realized you were just babbling, staring at the ripples created by swirling the teaspoon in your tea. “Oh my gosh… sorry I got carried away.”

“No it was fine, I think I also wanted to hear that. Like a feedback you know,”

“for reference next time, huh?”

He chokes on his drink, dipping his head down in embarrassment. “No I mean…”

“I am looking forward to it,” you muttered cutting his words, as your eyelashes fluttered, feeling a bit tired yet relaxed.

He looks at you in full adoration, and a hint of boosted ego. God, why are you the most beautiful person in the world and why is he lucky to have you this close to him? Even looking forward to next time?

“I do too. I actually think we’re compatible in bed…” he says rather shyly in reference with what you told him earlier. 

“Right…” you trailed. He meets your eye almost a millisecond long (short), and goes to sip his beverage until it’s empty. He breathes deeply, as he disposes of the trash all the while avoiding any contact with your eyes as he came back, not able to hide how he suddenly feels so nervous around you right now. You can’t help but shake your head. Gosh, Jihoon, can’t you be any more dense than this?

“We do seem compatible, no?” you continued, waiting for him to look at you again. He does, revealing the blush that never left his face, and your next words deepens its hue even more.

“...how’s that for a girlfriend?”

hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it! ^^ here's the prequel because we need it!!!

[mimipolo]

hey :) could you do a nam-gyu fic where thanos is flirting/put claim on the reader, but she clearly like nam-gyu more. just him dealing with his attraction for her, but still trying to be on thanos' good side

Nam-gyu x reader

I don't know if I did this right I had like five different ideas for how it could pan out so I hope this is alright

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

You were content with the idea of completely ignoring Thanos, his odd claims and even weirder way of flirting. Sure, it was fairly entertaining but it wasn't something you planned to put up with for long.

That was until he walked up to your bunk with a friend in towe. A friend that immediately caught your eye.

"Ayy Senorita!" He draws out in his usual musical tone, behind him a man that looked uninterested, perhaps even annoyed to be there making you grin slightly.

"Aren't ya gonna come down." A whiney voice calls up to you, his face pulling into a frown as he crossed his arms.

"Dude, this a waste of time let's just go." He's still behind Thanos, a hand already on his shoulder, nudging him slightly, hoping to convince him to turn back, and as his gaze went from him to you he stops. The eye contact he made with you was so undeniable you actually looked at the rapper directly for once, startled by how your heart suddenly raced.

"I think I'll stay and eat up here...thanks though." Your refusal immediately has him grumbling as he dramatically pivots to walk away. But his friend hangs back a small moment longer, the brief acknowledgement held a value only you two could fathom.

"Come on Nam-su we outt." Thanos drawls lazily, his arms in his pockets as he swayed from side to side.

"Nam-gyu..." He sighs defeatedly, it was pretty clear this wasn't the first time and likely wouldn't be the last time he'd have to correct the rapper of his name.

Nam-gyu huh? You wouldn't like to admit it but you kept the name close to your mind, maybe he'd favour you for remembering it. Which was a weird thought to have for someone you hadn't actually properly met yet.

You hoped to though.

And he did too, when Thanos was insistent on getting you to eat with them he was almost instantly irritated. Why? What was the point of that? From the beginning he wasn't a fan of any distractions that could lead Thanos away from him, it was inconvenient and if he wanted to win he needed both their focus on that damn cash prize.

What he hadn't prepared for was the you. You who Thanos had miraculously spotted among all the bland people in this weird murder game. And he would never admit it, especially not to him that he understood why he was so hooked on you.

And with that came a jealousy. A deep, seething jealousy that came from nowhere. Now he was frustrated with himself, Thanos and you. And the worst of it all is him actually being just as bummed you didn't come down to eat with them.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

From then on there was this tense love triangle between the three of you which Thanos held no part in. You had no intention of making it clear to the man you weren't interested, first of all: it'd be too much of a hassle, and second because of his favour you've been able to survive games you probably wouldn't have. So you'd put up with him, no big deal.

The only thing, no, person making this harder was Nam-gyu. He was also seemingly smart enough to judge it's best to not make any big move as you were both benefitting from being close to Thanos. But it was painfully clear his attention was always on you, his eyes only snapping back alive at the mention of your name during the moments Thanos seems to talk forever. Having to tip toe around the unspoken attraction towards each other was fine by you, exhilarating even. But you're really starting to wonder if Thanos really can't notice when you and the longer haired man only glance between each other whenever he flirts with you.

Apparently the small amused smiles and prolonged eye contact wasn't enough for Nam-gyu. This could end badly if he was caught but he couldn't care less at this point, this whole time it's just felt like the two of you were saying a million things while saying nothing at all. And he'd actually be damned if he let Thanos hold him back from talking to you. He believed you felt the same, it's not just anyone that looks at him so fondly and sees him as an individual. You saw him like he was someone familiar and when he lies awake, he's convinced that's why he's so drawn to you.

Which is also why he's sneaking to see you during lights out. Was this a good idea?

Probably not.

But he'd already climbed past a snoring Avengers threat so he might as well see it through. He sucked in his breath harshly when he heard the familiar snoring pattern pause when he finally made it to the ground. His heart only relaxing when it fell back into rythmn. Not that he was too worried though, he had thousands of excuses on the tip of his tongue. A benefit that came with being a pathological liar.

He is oddly greatful that the majority of the people that were on your bunk had died, the only remaining players being two beds above yours. Meaning he didn't need to sweat about not waking anyone on his way up. As he begins climbing he draws to a question. What if you're not even awake? Even worse what if you are or he wakes you up and you think he's some weirdo. He physically shakes the thought away as he continues his ascent, he just needed to see you, then he'd go back.

It was odd being able to see you so up close, watching the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. Seeing you like this calmed him down and made him want to fall asleep himself.

He freezes when you shift and his hair brushes your nose, your face scrunching up as you waft away the unwanted texture with a groggy hand. Eyes squinting open to see a stunned Nam-gyu instead of a stray price of fluff from your pillow.

What, is he doing here?

You gasp sharply, immediately sitting up and accidentally banging your head against the bed above you in your rush. He's quietly shushing you as you hold your head in whine in pain. You only look back at him when the pain has slightly subsided, hissing one last time before tear pricked eyes meet his.

"The hell are you doing here?"

"Can't I come to see you?" You squint at his words, they pissed you off, obviously he could but you were literally sleeping?

"You came to watch me sleep?" You ask sarcastically, grinning knowingly as he groaned and rolled his eyes.

Seeing as you weren't entirely put off by his night visit he crawls onto your bed fully, catching you a bit off guard but you make no objection against it which makes him strangely glad.

"Thanos isn't any good, you shouldn't be with him." He says bitterly, when you don't say anything immediately after he looks away from you and runs his hair behind his ears.

"...And you're saying you are?" you say with the slight raise of your brow.

You were just fucking around you already liked him more from the moment you saw him. Long disobedient hair and an angular face and a surprisingly sharp tongue when provoked. Ticking most of your boxes, you just wanted to see how he'd respond.

"Nah... but I could be better, than him at least." He says with a small huff which makes you laugh slightly, and he immediately notes he's never heard it before.

"I'll see you to that." Your words make his heart seize up but in the way when he's won when he didn't expect to. The carefree act he had going was going to crumble if you kept being so casual with him.

It's only now he feels the tensity of the situation, sitting in your bed in an area mostly secluded. He was actually feeling nervous being around you without Thanos there as some barrier to the two of you. You're looking at him expectantly as if waiting for him to make some smart ass response but you're so pretty right now. Your eyes on him and him alone. He's keeping quiet because if he spoke as he was now... he couldn't promise he wouldn't immediately embarass himself.

Instead he looks between you and the wall, his eyes scanning your face each time before he looked away. Despite the chaos of feelings reeling from inside him his face was mostly unreadable. The only thing telling you anything was his jaw tightening and loosening, maybe chewing the inside of his cheek.

You tilt your head to see if he'd look at you if you were more in his line of view but he only locked eyes with you for a moment before looking up.

He was nervous?

The thought made your chest swell even though you knew he was probably just deep in thought. Either way your fighting back a smile as you take his face in your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips. It was honestly amazing how he came back to reality from the contact. Staring at you with wide confused eyes as if questioning why you would even do that.

And when you start to laugh to yourself quietly he's chuckling flustered beside you. His lips pursed tight to not let the grin on his face appear, but his feelings were clear in the new softness in his eyes.

Nodding lightly like he's fully savoured your presence he's manoeuvring himself to leave your bed, giving the underside of your knee a light squeeze before settling on the ladder.

"G'night..."

"Night Nam-gyu."

The first genuine smile of the night freely slips onto his face, making your own smile appear before he's making his descent back down. Grinning to himself like an idiot all the way back to his bed because he managed to get the girl Thanos saw first.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Ever since then it's been this mutual joke between you two. You're holding back a snicker as Thanos serenades you because Nam-gyu's right behind him rolling his eyes and mocking him.

Nightly routines of him visiting your bed comforted you on those nights you couldn't will yourself to sleep. There's been more than one occasion he's stayed the night and forgot to go back to his bed and when questioned about where he was so early in the morning it's always "Needed to piss". He's glancing back at you accusingly as if you forced him to stay (you asked repeatedly very nicely.)

I love him sm I'm gonna cook him into a lasagna.

[lovemybluebully]

A Small Lapse of Judgement

What do you get when you cross a drunk Wolverine? Tickled. You get tickled. 🤣

Okay, yeah sorry guys. This one is literally like twice as long as my last one, but Logan and Wade both needed to get wrecked good. lol I'm just having too much fun writing these guys. So get some snacks or something because you're going to be here for a minute.

More somewhat movie spoilers, and Wade saying inappropriate things to Logan's annoyance. lol Oh, and of course tons of cussing. And tickles. Lots of tickles.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

ler!Wade/Deadpool x lee!Logan/Wolverine

ler!Logan/Wolverine x lee!Wade/Deadpool

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 4,372

At first Logan had declined Wade's invitation to live with him at his apartment. Having been on his own for so long Logan didn't want to accept the fact that anyone actually wanted him around, but after Wade's persistent prodding and convincing he finally accepted.

"Yes!! It'll be like a sexy slumber party!" Wade had whooped, but one steely-eyed look from Logan made him turn it down, "Ahem. Or, you know, just two guys hanging out together with no lewd activities of any kind...."

No doubt Wade pushed Logan's buttons and got on his nerves more than anyone he had ever met in his life, but after their ordeal together there was no denying the bond that had been created between the two of them. It was hard for him to admit it, but Wade was definitely someone Logan now considered as a friend.

Surprisingly he settled in quickly and had begun to make himself comfortable, allowing him to let his guard down and actually relax for once. It was only a one-bedroom apartment so even though he had to sleep out on the couch every night he was grateful to have a place to call home.

And Wade was thrilled to have him there. Unlike his other roommate, Blind Al, Logan was progressively becoming more tolerant of his off the wall antics so it was nice to have someone else there that he could really joke around with. And drink with, though Logan still tended to embark on some solo day drinking of his own.

Wade shuffled into the living room in his crocs one late evening with Dogpool cradled in his arm to find Logan slouched over on the couch in nothing but jeans and a tank top and a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Further observation revealed there to be two more empty bottles laying around on the ground by his feet.

"Hey. Robert Downey Jr. Wanna take it easy on the booze?"

Logan lazily looked up at him, rolling his eyes when he saw Wade was allowing the dog to lick all over his face.

"I will once ya take it easy on always making out with that mutt."

Wade stared at him in defiance as he continued to kiss Dogpool's head while she licked all around his mouth, making Logan grimace in disgust before Wade set her down upon the ten-sizes-too-big dog bed he had bought for her.

"You know if you were jealous all you had to do was ask, baby girl. There's plenty of Wade Wilson to go around," he leaped onto the couch beside Logan and puckered his lips, making smooching sounds as he tried to pull the other man close while Logan cursed and struggled to hold him back.

"Hey hey! Fucking knock it off, asshole!" Despite his annoyance he chuckled a little with the alcohol lightening his mood and after a few more seconds Wade finally relented to sit himself back.

"You can fight it all you want, but I know you'll come around one day. There's no resisting my natural labido," Wade sat facing him as he gave a wink and a flirty grin, causing Logan to sigh with a shake of his head and take another sip from the bottle.

"See this is exactly why I still drink. I need something to help tolerate your obnoxious ass on a daily basis."

"Fine by me. It has its benefits. Number one being that you're so much less stabby when you're like this," Wade teased, wiggling a finger into his side as Logan squirmed and giggled before swatting at his hand with boozed up coordination.

"Why are ya always tickling me? I hate that shit," Logan was still smiling though as he rubbed at his irritated ribs.

"Because," Wade smiled and turned to look out at the audience before whispering quietly under his breath, "The people demand it."

He sat staring in silence for several seconds until Logan lifted a brow in confusion.

"The fuck you looking at?"

"Nothing," Wade turned back to him, "Well it's because I have to make you laugh somehow, grumpy pants. You're always so serious, and worst of all you never laugh at my jokes."

"Oh yeah? Have ya tried actually being funny?"  A big shit eating grin was plastered on Logan's face as he instinctively pulled his arms in close to his body, not expecting Wade to let that one slide.

"Ooh hoo hoo, you're going to pay for that one later. You know what, smart ass? Maybe I'll tickle you in front of Laura. I'm sure she'd love to help me double team you sometime. A little badger on badger action, if you will." 

It was Wade's turn to smirk as Logan just looked back at him with nervous eyes that he tried to hide behind the scowl now creasing over his face.

"You'd better fuckin' not."

"I don't know. It's sounding like a pretty good idea to me. Usually I have to pay to see that kind of thing but-"

Logan growled as his claws started to come out, but Wade just laughed and wagged a finger at him.

"Ah ah ah! Rule number one, no bloodshed in the house. So best keep those claws of yours in check, my little kitty cat."

"Just don't give me a reason then," Logan warned, retracting the claws before his eyes raised to focus on Wade's head, "By the way, how long are ya gonna keep wearing that stupid toupee? I already told you that you ain't foolin' anyone with that thing."

Wade looked positively insulted as he patted and smoothed down the hair on his head.

"Uhmm excuse me? As I've told you a thousand times, it's a hair system. It's so I can go out in public looking halfway decent. Not all of us were blessed with the perfect bone structure of a successful Broadway actor," turns his head briefly to look at the camera, "And besides, I think it looks quite distinguished."

"I've seen better looking roadkill than whatever that thing's made out of," Logan snorted and downed the rest of the bottle in his hand before dropping it on the floor beside the other empty bottles.

"Says the guy who looks like he has roadkill glued to the sides of his face," Wade gave a less than gentle tug on his muttonchops as Logan grunted and smacked his hand away.

"Oh yeah? Well at least I can grow facial hair, pal. You on the other hand don't have a speck of hair on your whole goddamn body. You're like a fucking pre-pubescent child. This is what a real man looks like," a tipsy smirk crawled across his face as he nonchalantly pulled up his tank top to show off his hairy chest and stomach.

He emphasized his point by running a hand over his hirsute, muscular torso while Wade just stared very, very hard.

"........Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it's working," Wade was smiling deviously and reaching a hand out as Logan chuckled dryly and gave him a hard shove, sending him flying to the other end of the couch, "Just so you know, I'm adding that one to the spank bank."

"You fucking wish, bub. Think ya got a better chance with that ugly ass dog of yours," he nodded over towards the sleeping pooch while tugging his shirt back down. 

It was rare to see such a repulsed look on Wade's face as the man always seemed to be down for whatever but apparently messing with the dog was where he drew a line.

"Woah woah, that's just going too far now. You need therapy, my friend."

"Oh please. I forgot you were the fucking poster child for mental stability," Logan muttered as he lifted his legs to prop his bare feet up on the coffee table in front of him.

"Heyheyhey! What in the ever-living fuck do you think you are doing? That's where we cut up our Bolivian nose candy-"

"I thought Feige said ya can't talk about that."

"Well what Feige doesn't know won't hurt him. Now let's go. Chop chop. Feet off the table, bud," Wade scolded and kicked Logan in the leg as the man rolled his eyes and begrudgingly pulled his feet down.

"You are such a fucking caveman. That table is an antique. Furniture crafted from the finest-OOof!" Wade grunted in pain as Logan dropped his feet onto his lap with his heel coming down hard onto his groin, "Uh uh nope. Not happening. Feet off the Deadpool too." 

"Well I gotta put 'em somewhere. What? Offended that ya weren't my first choice? Be flattered I finally found a good use for you," Logan smirked big time at the genuine outrage that now displayed on Wade's face.

"What the fuck do you mean?! You've seen what a phenomenal cook I am!"

"Almost burned down the apartment."

"I'm the king of late-night karaoke!"

"Got the cops called on us three times already."

"Well I'm good at making friends everywhere I go."

"I had to beat the shit out of all those bikers to get them off of you. Not to mention you almost got us banned from my favorite bar, you dumb fuck."

Wade started to pout from Logan shooting down all of his claims, but was quickly back to grinning as he thought of something that Logan couldn't possibly argue against.

"Okay, you know what? You wanna see something I'm good at? I'll show you something I'm very good at," Wade smirked and grabbed ahold of Logan's legs, securing his ankles in one arm as he began ruthlessly tickling the bottoms of his feet.

Logan lost any sense of calm he had as he immediately broke into a hysterical laughing fit, figuring out too late that he had made a huge mistake. There weren't many things in life that could get the Wolverine to lose his cool, but Wade Wilson the Tickle Monster never failed.

"Baahahahahahaha! Wahahahahade, dohohohon't!! Okaahaahaahaay! I'll mooohoohoove 'em!!"

Logan was far too buzzed to pull his usual act of fighting back his reactions and trying to pretend that he wasn't as horribly sensitive as he really was. Not that any of that ever discouraged Wade since he knew he'd always get him to crack eventually.

"Nah, that's okay. You just keep them right where they are, Giggles. Maybe this'll teach you some manners. Or not, that's okay too. I wouldn't want to run out of excuses to do this....," he scratched at the soles with Logan going nuts and frantically pulling at his captured legs while Wade's arm only squeezed tighter around them to ensure he wouldn't escape.

"Stahahahaaap, ya dihihihick! Fuhuhuhuckin' lehehehehe-lehehet me gohohohohooo!"

"What's that? Aww did you forget your safe word again? So confusing. How do I know if you really want me to stop or not?" The merc teased with his fingers scribbling at Logan's arches as the X-man's laughter surged in volume.

"Fuhuhuhuhuck you! Aaaheheeheeheehee nohohoho! Waahaait! I'm sohohohohorry!" He howled with tears already in his eyes as Wade found the weak spots under his toes; his body twisting and flopping around as he braced his arms on the couch in his clumsy attempts to get free.

Wade always enjoyed when Logan was in this state. Not only was he a lot less homicidal than if he was sober but he wasn't nearly as uptight and didn't even fight the tickles as hard. He practically just rolled over and took it and didn't hold much back. 

He suspected that Logan didn't hate being tickled nearly as much as he made out and loved to tease him about it much to the older man's insistent denial of the fact. It's likely that Logan would rather die than ever admit something like that.

Wade then cleared his throat and began to speak in his best exaggerated Australian accent.

"Crikey mate! Here we have the Wolverine. Best known for its violent tendencies and natural ability to be a complete jackass. When confronted by a stronger and more powerful predator it begins to make the most adorable snorting sounds that are meant as a sign of his submission. Let's listen in, shall we?"

Logan had been belting out uncontrollable snorts all throughout his laughter and it was one of Wade's favorite things to poke fun at him for.

"Shhh-Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup! You're sohohohoho fuhuhucking stuhuhuhupid!"

"Oh, I'm fucking stupid? Who's the one making all the little piggy noises, Wilbur? Speaking of piggies....," Wade smirked as he started to play with his toes again, "This little piggy was an alcoholic....This little piggy was always so mean to his friend, Wade.....This little piggy talked shit about sweet little Dogpool....This little piggy..."

"Fuhuhuhuhuuuck! Alrihihihihight I gihihihive uhuhup! Haahahahaah! No-No mohohohore!" Logan had managed to pull a foot free and was now kicking Wade in the back as hard as he could, which wasn't very hard at all due his weakened state from laughing so much.

"No more? No MORE? Sorry, sweet cheeks. But I've got plenty more," Wade then threw his foot aside as he turned and dove onto Logan's prone form to now attack his very ticklish stomach, "That was for treating me like an object! This is for saying I'm not funny!"

Wade snickered with glee as the feral man expelled a less than manly squeal of giggles and immediately curled into a protective ball, though all attempts to evade were useless. Deadpool was positively relentless.

"Nooooohohohohohoo nohohohot thehehehehere! Okahahaay you're funny! You're fuhuhuhuhuhunnyyyyyaaahahahahahaaStaahahahahahaaap!"

"Oh sure! All of a sudden I'm just magically funny now! Don't insult my intelligence! You can't bullshit a bullshitter!" Wade managed to get his hands underneath Logan's shirt, raking his fingers up and down his bare stomach and forcing him to dissolve into a lengthy, mirthful wheeze.

"Why are you so ticklish? Is it part of your mutation? A result of a Weapon X experiment gone horribly wrong? Talk, damn you! I need answers!"

Not that Wade actually expected him to answer, but Logan was laughing entirely too hard and fighting it even less. He had his head thrown back in hysterics that exposed his oversized canines, writhing feebly while tears were leaking down his reddened cheeks.

It was a sight to see the normally powerful X-man rendered helpless from such a soft touch, but it just goes to prove that healing factors and big muscles were completely useless against a tickle attack.

Wade would have loved to keep tickling him all night, and he knew the man technically could take it with the high amount of stamina he possessed, but it was time to let him go now and save it for another time. Logan had been a good sport, and he didn't want to push it too far.

Pulling his hands back he now stood triumphantly hovering over the still giggling and plastered Wolverine, who kept his body all curled up in case the crazy merc decided to come for him again.

"Are you sure you're the Wolverine of legends? I mean, this isn't exactly what I had pictured. If I hadn't personally seen you in action then I'd have some serious doubts," he smirked as Logan finally relaxed and slowly splayed out on the couch.

"Heehehehe-That's the worst Wolverine to you, bub. You-hehehee-fucking suck," Logan continued to giggle as he struggled to fight off the dizzying high of the combined tickle assault mixed with the alcohol in his bloodstream. Wade was pleased to see he hadn't soured his mood.

"But do I swallow is the real question? Hehehe, sorry, I couldn't help myself. Now did you learn your lesson, you drunken idiot?"

Logan regained some sense of focus as he slowly sat up and looked up at Wade with the most cocky grin.

"Of course not. Gonna take a lot more than that, fucker."

"Do not tempt me, Peanut. I showed you mercy this time, but I cannot guarantee this next round I will be as charitable," Wade smirked and cracked his knuckles, surprised to see Logan lean back onto the couch with his arms folded behind his head.

"Pffft. You don't fuckin' scare me. You can do your worst. Though I'm sorry to say you're not gonna get the chance. Ya wanna know why?"

"Why?" Wade practically demanded with his hands on his hips.

"That's why." Logan lifted a hand to point behind Wade as the merc whirled around to confront what may have got the drop on him and found.....nothing. Nobody.

"Wait a minute.....did I really just fall for the oldest trick in the bo-AAAHCK!" Wade let out a scream as he was pounced from behind by a playfully growling Wolverine and landed hard on his stomach with his face hitting the floor. He had seriously misjudged the other man's current ability to fight back.

"Heheh, you really are a fucking idiot. Now let's see how you like this shit...," Logan immediately dug into Wade's ribs from where he sat perched on his back and was more than thrilled by the scream that ripped out of the merc's mouth. He knew there was no way a loudmouth like Wade wouldn't be ticklish.

"Nohohooo Logan wahahahahaait! Ahahaheeheehehehehe! You cahahahan't tihihihickle meheheee! I'm-I'm the 'ler! Nohohot yooooou!"

"The what? What the hell are ya talkin' about now?" Logan didn't let up though while Wade tried to sputter out an explanation.

"The cohohohommunity! Ihihihit's a thihihiing! I g-guess tehehehechnically I'm a swihihihihitch buhuhuhut stihihill!"

Logan raised his brows, looking more confused than before as he ended up just shrugging it off and shaking his head.

"Nevermind. I really don't wanna know. Now shut up and laugh, asshole," Logan's big hands ran up and down his sides, squeezing his waist and making it back up into his armpits as Wade flailed and shrieked and desperately tried to clamp his arms down.

Logan couldn't help but laugh at Wade's reactions with how he had barely started in on him yet.

"Geez. Have ya really been this fucking ticklish this whole time? Looks like we've got some time to make up for," his fingers fluttered around under Wade's arms, producing wild cackles as he wriggled like a worm and tried to scoot across the floor.

"Get off get off! Nooohahahahahaha! I'm nohohohohot tihihihicklish! I'm nohohohohohohot!"

"Well if you're not ticklish then all this shouldn't be botherin' ya, right? Or do you prefer me stabbin' ya better?" Logan smirked as he used the three middle fingers on each hand to simulate his claws as he repeatedly poked at Wade's ribcage with rapid fire speed, "Hehe, now you're dead."

"Gaahaahahahahaha!! Nohohohohot the clahahahahaws! Mehehehehercy!" Wade begged, trying to reach behind him to smack Logan's hands away. Spoiler alert, it didn't work.

"Mercy? Ha! That's a fuckin' good one. Hey, whaddya know. I guess you are funny after all. Hehehe, tickle tickle tickle, fuckface."

Wade's hysterics were increasing in volume by the second and Logan snorted in amusement at the thought that they might get the cops called on them for a suspected murder happening in the apartment.

"Holy shit. Keep it down, will ya? You're gonna wake the-"

"What in the name of Satan's asshole is that horrible noise?!?!" Blind Al shouted in annoyance as she wandered into the room and nearly tripped over the two men roughhousing on the floor.

"Blind Al! Blind Ahahahahal! Hehehehelp mehehehehe!" Wade screamed as he managed to roll over underneath Logan and reach out a desperate hand towards his elderly roommate.

"You're such a dick. Ya know ya don't have to emphasize that she's blind all the time, ya inconsiderate moron," Logan rolled his eyes with a smile as he now had better access to Wade's ribs and stomach and dug right in.

"Baahahahah-Buhuhuhut thahahat's her nahahahahame! B-Becahahahause she's blihihihind! Gehehehet ihihit?!"

The older woman's lips pursed with disdain.

"Please keep torturing him. I will sleep good tonight knowing that stupid motherfucker is suffering," she gently patted Logan on the shoulder as she turned around and made her way out of the room.

"You got it, boss lady," Logan nodded with a smirk and scratched furiously at Wade's stomach, easily avoiding the flailing hands trying to stop him.

"Blihihihihind Al! Aahahhahahha! You trahahahaahaahaitor! Ahahahafter ahahall I've d-dohohohone for yooohoou!"

"Maybe you could gag his bitch ass too," she yelled back over her shoulder, making Logan chuckle.

"She's got a point. You're loud as fuck. Always makin' fun of how I snort while you're over here shrieking like a fuckin' little girl."

With that, Wade was struck with inspiration as he thought of a way to get Logan to stop.

"Yehehehes! Oh yehehehes Lohohohogan! Dohohohn't stop! Th-Thahahat's ihihihit! Tihihihickle me! Tihihickle mehehehe untihihihil I pahahahass ouhohout!" Wade pretended to moan between his laughs as he put his hands flat against the floor to demonstrate that he had no intention of preventing the tickling, though it was a major struggle for him to keep them there.

Logan tilted his head as he stared down at Wade in bemusement.

"Can't tell if you're tryin' to psyche me out into stopping, or if you really do like it that much. I wouldn't put it past ya to actually enjoy being tickled. Not the weirdest thing about you. Either way, if ya say not stop then I won't," Logan smirked and proceeded to tickle him even harder as he kneaded into his hips.

"Noooooohohohoooo! Okaahahaay! I lihihihied! I cahahahan't tahahahahake it! Pleasepleaseplease stooohahahahoooop!" Wade squealed and kicked his legs around and uselessly tried to grab at the other man's wrists to pry him off.

"Now was that really a lie? Are ya sure it wasn't an educated wish?" Logan loved to bring that stupid shit up every once in a while, knowing it would get under Wade's skin.

"So fuhuhuhunny I forgohohot to lahahahaugh, ahahahasshole! Nohohow gehehet off meeeheeheeheee! You fuhuhuhucking mahahahade yohohohour point!" 

Logan was about to make another quip when he heard loud barking and turned his head to see Dogpool come flying over the back of the couch towards them in superhero slow-motion.

She then rushed in to grab Wade by the hair as she pulled with all of her tiny body weight trying to free him.

"Yehehehes! Mary Puhuhuhuppins! Saahahahave pa-pa! Thaahahahat's it!"

"Yeah.....that dog weighs like eight pounds. Hehehe, don't think you're getting away from me just yet, bub," Logan snickered as he dragged Wade closer and plunged his fingers into his armpits, earning another shriek as the merc futilely clamped his arms down and thrashed even harder.

"Looohohohogaaan staaahahahahahahap! I'm-I'm sohohohohoh glahahad to seeheehee-ahahahahhah-see yohohou ehehehembrace thihihis sss-sihihide of you buhuhuhut-AAAAHH! FUHUHUHUCK!!"

A loud ripping sound was heard as Logan looked up in wonderment to see Wade with a hand gripped to his now bald head as Dogpool stood there with his whole hair piece in her mouth.

Logan couldn't help it. The sight of Wade laying there with those fucking staples sticking out of his head and the dog now gnawing on his toupee like a chew toy was just too comical.

He started to laugh. Really laugh. Laughing too damn hard to keep tickling Wade as he literally fell over, holding his sides while his whole body shook in uncontrollable guffaws.

Wade was finally able to sit up as he glared at his hysterical friend, but he had a smile on his face too.

"Really?! That's what makes you laugh?! You seeing me getting hurt is funny to you? Pretty fucked up, you sado," he pretended to sound annoyed, but really he was anything but. It was rare to see Logan laugh like this besides when Wade was tickling him half to death so he'd let him have this for the moment.

Still he had to strike back somehow for this indignity.

"Puppins attack! Kill, my little munchkin! Kill!" Wade shouted as the dog rushed towards the fallen man and jumped onto him. But Dogpool didn't have a mean bone in her body and only knew how to attack with love as she affectionately licked Logan's face much to his aversion.

"Blech! Wahahade! Gehet your dohohog!" He bellowed as he continued to laugh, but other than trying to shield his face with his arms he didn't do much to stop her.

"Okay okay, come here, sweetie pie. Lets get you away from the bad man who tried to kill your pa-pa," Wade reached over and pulled her off of him, setting her into his lap.

Logan finally fought down the giggles as he sat up to find Wade staring longingly at the destroyed toupee in his hand. He kind of felt bad for the guy and thought he should offer some words of encouragement.

"Yeah, that thing's fucked. Big time. But hey, I think you look better without it," he nodded, using his shirt to wipe off his face as Wade gave him a genuine smile.

"You're only saying that because you're drunk," the merc teased back as Logan shrugged in response and grinned broadly.

"You're probably right. I wouldn't touch ya with a ten foot pole."

"That's okay. I don't mind doing all the touching...," Wade gave him a quick squeeze on the side as Logan snorted and lurched away from his reach and got to his feet.

"Don't fucking start that again. I'd say we're even now. Besides, you don't wanna fuck with me now that I know how damn ticklish you are. It's a stalemate. We can put this all behind us and move on. Now if ya don't mind I'd like to get some sleep," he waved the other man away as he grabbed some blankets off the back of the couch to set up his sleeping area.

Wade just smirked as he began walking out of the room with Dogpool in his arms.

"Silly silly Wolvie. I'm not sure you realize the implications of your actions. But I'm afraid this is far from over. You, my friend, have just started a war."

Logan's face fell as he only stared back at Wade in wide-eyed silence.

"Nighty night, Peanut. Sweet dreams," Wade smirked devilishly, waving with wiggling fingers as he flicked off the light switch on the wall.

[silkscream]

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

[worstgenerationloser]

#NeedAceFicWithNipplePlaying/NippleOrgasmWithHeavyDirtyTalkingFromAce

Please and thank you🙏🏻

,, A little more... ''

Portgas D. Ace x F! Reader (NSFW!)

Summary... you can't get enough of sneaking around with the second division commander, he can't get enough of his hands and tongue all over you.

Contains... nipple orgasm, nipple play, edging, sloppy kissing, friends with benefits, some attempted dirty talk... (fail)

Words... 1.5k!

A/N: I cringed at myself trying to write the dirty talk IM SO SORRY, also another apology it's kinda short...

"Slow down— the door isn't even closed." You speak in a hushed tone, paranoid that there would be eyes watching through the crack in the door, Ace groans dramatically and rolls his eyes at your paranoia, however. It's not like he's some kind of exhibitionist, he's simply recognizing that you're being completely ridiculous in your worries.

"Yep. Mhm... there's definitely sober people on Whitebeard's crew that would think to check an old raggedy closet and see if Ace and Y/N are getting it down. I think half of them forget we even interact half the damn time, chill out." Ace giggles, that sleazy smirk and those heavy lidded, tired eyes drawing his whole look back into the same work of art he is always.

When you two first started this little arrangement, that may have been true, but you've kept this up for a while now and even though you don't plan on stopping, things would get a little more complicated if Marco actually spoke up instead of smirking each time you and Ace stare at each other. Suddenly, the hands on your hips pick up their previous pace, rubbing your upper thigh and gliding up your body smoothly.

He sits down on a dusty crate of unnecessary items bought by whoever it was, long forgotten in a secluded storage closet. Ace's hands reach the hem of your shirt, sliding under without a second thought. Before you could retort, the clicking of the door shutting sounds off into the room, and you're engulfed in darkness.

"Wanna do it in the dark?" He teases you with the ghost of his breath, the pads of his fingers tracing your stomach before holding your thighs before he pulls you up onto his own, a soft gasp escaping you despite yourself. Another teasing remark is coming, and so you silence him with your lips, the same way you did the very first time.

His warm lips meet yours, coated in saliva and desire with barely anything else to give other than something sloppy and dirty. His eyes are shut as if he were pondering something, and his hand comes to your face to feel how much warmth has gathered on your cheek, while his lips do their best to warm you more. Ace's tongue smears saliva onto your mouth, and it's an odd slippery feeling, but not that different from when his mouth is on your other lips. He doesn't like kissing you much, and you don't know why, but you can't complain about someone's preferences, maybe it's a good thing he withholds things like this from you, because he is utterly addicting.

Your body is warm, you start to feel sweat forming on the back of your neck and the inside of your elbows, things are steamier in the closet, literally. Ace is sliding his hands over the fabric of your clothing, raising goosebumps on your warm skin with his tantalizing touch. A moan slips into his mouth, your tongue quivering as you scrape his bottom lip with it, and he finally lets you go breathe your own air.

"You know I got a light if you need, just ask." Ace pants, but he still holds up his flaming finger for you to gaze at, his freckled face illuminated by orange flames. He's beautiful, you think to yourself, you know he would only scoff and roll his eyes if you said something like that at this time again. One day he's gonna see his worth, and you hope it comes from the time you two have spent together so far.

"You're a jackass. Just fucking touch me." You groan, better not make things too emotional, he's sure to view it as just sex. You keep having to remind your giddy heart that this isn't romance, it burns but not as much as when his flame flickers a bit too close to you. He puts out his light, and you're both back in the dark again. Gods, you're nervous and anxiously awaiting his eager touch.

His long fingers come to rest under your shirt, tracing the curvature of your breasts over your bra. You have recently learned that Ace's eyes carry a strong presence, you can always feel them on you no matter how far he seems to be, and it's just that much more intense up close. Slowly, he lifts your shirt up just so it wouldn't cover your breasts, and you feel his breath begin to tickle your sternum. Without a word, you take your blouse off yourself, giving him a bit more free reign.

The barely audible noise of your bra coming undone and hitting somewhere on the floor as Ace throws it aside softly resonates in the room.

"I'm gonna need that later." You huff.

"You'll get it later, we got better things to focus on." Ace chortles, his smirk prevalent in his voice.

The cool air of the closet stiffens your nipples, making goosebumps form on the soft skin of your breasts as well. A small hum escapes Ace's lips, and you hear the sound of saliva clicking in his mouth as he shifts closer towards you, then things are silent for a second... Before a soft sigh whimper escapes you when you feel two fingers gently tug at your nipple, rolling it under their warm touch. Your hardened nipples begin to soften upon contact with such warmth, and Ace seeks to stiffen them back up. His other hand reaches to grope your untouched breast, kneading it firmly while also keeping a dash of tenderness in his palm as he grabs it in his hands the way you like, he's always been a fast learner when it came to various things, you could say he's an expert in you and your body at this point in time.

"I ever told you that you got some pretty tits?" Ace licks his lips, just barely able to see better than you can in the dark, and he's got his eyes on the prize. His fingers quit toying with your nipples as he dips his head downwards, pressing his moistened lips to your areola in hot kisses. Breath heavy, his tongue darts out to swirl around your nipple and coat it entirely in his saliva, making you squirm in his lap. A desire bubbles up in your stomach, and your thighs coincidentally trap one of Ace's own.

Though you try and still yourself, it's harder becasue it's Ace, not some random guy you'll forget about the very next week. You've practically trained him in all areas, so what if he's got you horny and wanting more just from a little nipple play? It's a natural reaction with a boy like him. Squeezing your eyes shut, your brows furrow when you give a small roll of your hips into Ace's thigh. A chill runs down your spine, and you feel your arousal dripping into your underwear. Ace's teeth come out to play in a soft nibble against the fat of your breasts, his tongue is hot and heavy against your skin, and it's not stopping here.

"I can feel how hot your pussy is getting." It sounds like he's about to giggle, but his mouth is stuffed full of your breast to the point most of what he says is illegible besides his wet breathing and sucking, your suspicions are confirmed when he smiles midway into sucking on your nipple.

"Whose fault is that?" That retort of yours only fires him up more— literally. His back is bursting into flames, and it lights up the room a little too much for your liking, but atleast you get to see his pretty face showcasing what must be pure bliss with his mouth wrapped around your tit. It feels warm, now that it's colder outside Ace seems to be the only thing to warm up your body. Your hands reach around the back of his neck, fingers interlocking themselves between the messy locks of raven hair on his head, and it calms him... you think.

Ace lets out a low hum, drool trickling down under your breast.

"Hm... Is it mine? 'Cause I'm worried you've got a side piece you're thinking of." Ace's giggles are muffled into your skin again. Finding time to make small jokes during sexual things like this is a bit too intimate for people who are supposed to be just friends with benefits. The impending retort you had in mind is shoved back into the depths of your mind when you feel his hands slide down your body, heading for the waistband of your pants.

Ace always keeps you on your toes, who has need for someone else? You would tell him, but maybe it's better if you show him instead. Gently placing your hands to cup his face, you ease him away from your chest and he thankfully gets the message, but it feels like losing a part of you when his tongue is no longer tracing your skin. Cocking his head to the side, he begins to speak up.

"Not feeling me tonight?"

Resisting the urge to make a joke, you keep the retort to yourself. You'll be feeling him a lot tonight.

END.

(here is ace photos for you to enjoy because I left on a cliffhanger)

[euhla]

Stay with me (please) 𝜗𝜚. AVENTURINE

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. MDNI, smut, fem!reader, slight angst, poorly written smut, trauma (aventurine’s backstory), insecurity, fluff, friend w benefits, marking, bitting, dom/sub, soft dom, praise kink, p in v, creampie, soft sx, unprotected sx, dacryphilia, nipple play, pet names; baby, actually no plot ּ ֶָ֢. ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. a/n : aventurine is the first character for my actual smut🙏 AND i’m trying to write smut and this is my HORRIBLE first experiment. anw, english is not my first language ! please forgive me if there’s any mistakes ^___0 (AGAIN, poorly written)

Bare skin without the slightest cloth touching each other on a night where the moon shines at its peak. The inaudible of the surrounding nature made the screams of pleasure could be heard clearly. And poor for those who hear that despicable voices.

It all feels like a fortnight ago; the first time two strangers met each other again—you were brought together by fate that bound you like a chain. Aventurine

As fellow members working under the IPC, you both have only met once before. Maybe it's because of the invisible wall—the caste that separates the two of you. He’s one of the Ten Stonehearts, while you’re merely a subordinate who obeys their superior.

In a corner of the magnificent city of Penacony, in a casino, a gathering place for people with enough wealth to make them confident of winning consecutively. The two of you meet again for the second time.

And it was clear from the first night; disguised under pretext of getting money and all of Aventurine's wealth, you actually just want to keep looking at his figure that always looks majestic and charming. Without doing anything, he will always be the center of attention.

The way his hands find the part that gives you pleasure, the way the praises he whispers to you always invites butterflies in your stomach. Everything he does feels like a blessing to you.

“Hah—“ You whimpered in between the pleasures. You feel overwhelmed by what he is doing to you; his hips moved back and forth in a pattern, His left hand moved to where it belongs—your breasts. He squeezed them, playing with your nipples as if they were toys. While his right hand covered his own mouth, to limit the sounds that came out of his mouth for the sake of his pride.

Without you realizing it, your tears start to fall. Whether because of pleasure or pain. And somewhere, inside you, something twitches. It’s Aventurine’s. He's aroused... of your crying?

You slowly opened your eyes. Your vision was a little blurry from tears, and you blinked several times to be able to see Aventurine. He's flustered, and you too.

“Ah.. i–“ He felt a little humiliated, being aroused by your crying. His hips almost stopped moving from the shock, and you protest about it.

“Hah… i- it’s okay,” You try to calm him down. Your shaking hand rose to cup his cheek. it’s okay

Once he regained his composure, he whisper in your ear, “mngh—you did so well for me, baby.”

After saying that, his lips immediately kissed the curve of your neck. Leaving marks that will disappear when morning comes. And he will remind you to wear a scarf or something that can cover it

This time his neck formed a beautiful curve while his head leaned back slightly, his mouth opened to let out a moan. This means his days are tiring

And the next thing you know, a warm feeling enters your womb. Aventurine just remained silent without any intention of pulling out.

You don't care what you look like now. The most important thing now is to calm Aventurine.

“Is everything okay?” One of your hands was in his hair, stroking it in an attempt to calm him down. “Something’s bothering you?” You asked again.

Reticence. Something enveloped the two of you. You still stroked his hair, even though the answer never came.

Of course he didn't answer you. Deep in his mind, only apprehension ran free. He felt ashamed of himself, ashamed of the slave mark that would always be on his neck. Accompanying him every step he takes, while reminding him who he really is. Who is nothing more or less than a slave.

The wound was old, but it still remained and felt fresh as if it had just been carved. And somewhere, in the depths of his mind, there was a great desire that was forced to hide; but i want to live, not just survive.

How does it feel to feel the sun's rays hitting your face without remembering your own past? How does it feel to be able to sleep soundly on a planet in this universe without fear of nightmares? Aventurine just wants to experience the beauty of life without hurting other people.

The remaining human feeling in his heart wants to reach you, wants to prevent you from leaving him. His mouth wanted to say three sacred words, but his heart told him to remain silent.

Will you still be willing to stay until I can accept everything?

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

My brain is on fire same I can’t sleep and am thinking of this:

The way she writes about marriage/family/commitment through these different situations across the album is soooooooooo interesting.

You have a very intense first experience of it in “The Manuscript,” where it is first dangled in front of her/the narrator’s young, impressionable self as shorthand for real love in a situation that ended up being smoke and mirrors. She’s being told everything she wants to hear by someone who basically thinks it’s just foreplay. In the end, when it’s clear that the other person has no intention of actually making a life with her, it makes her feel used, but she forces herself to recalibrate and become the girl she thinks he and all the other hes want her to be. Easy breezy cool. But there’s a sense of loss in realizing those hopes were merely banter to the other.

You have the “grown up” version of it alluded to in “So Long, London” and “How Did It End?”, the years of putting in work to save a relationship and the “deflation of our dreaming leaving [her] bereft and reeling” leading to them “calling it all off.” The implication is clearly that they built a home together with plans for next steps at a point in time, but the commitment is shattered. (Obviously to me it sounds like marriage.) She’s bitter at spending her “prime” years with someone who ultimately didn’t want to be there, even if he couldn’t or wouldn’t admit it himself.

She felt like she did everything she was supposed to, but they were learning the right steps to different dances at as it were. Those dreams were at one point shared, but in the end they weren’t right for each other and she admits that, though bitterly (“I founded the club she’s heard great things about” eg the years she put in for him to help him grow up will end up benefiting his new lover, “but I’m not the one,” “you’ll find someone,” etc.). Mixed in with all this of her resentment of him wasting her youth (sacrificing herself at the altar), and his resentment of her for reasons less defined, and insinuations of betrayal in the shadows. The fantasy of the whole package disappears into the ether, yet she still has no answers as to how they got there.

Then in comes the wolf in sheep’s clothing in many of the rest of the songs, the one who promises her all those things she’s dreamed of since she was a kid instantly. After years of moulding herself to other men’s desires, someone comes in and tells her exactly what she wants to hear at the most vulnerable time of her life, as though the universe is answering her prayers, like some sort of cosmic payback for all she’s suffered, and it’s the most intoxicating drug of all. She’s gone from her wish for a family life feeling like she’s in a way being used for her body, to it being used as a chain to a relationship gone sour, to having someone put a metaphorical ring on her finger and tell her he wants to have babies with her, fuck those other guys.

In her grief and stupor, it’s too good to be true, which is exactly why she falls for it. But of course, it’s all an illusion, because this wolf is an amalgamation of the worst of all the men who came before him. He tells her everything she wants to hear not to make her dreams come true, but to make his. He takes the worst parts of these scenarios to make his move: he’ll stand by her, he’ll commit, he’ll do it out in the open under the spotlight’s glare (all things desperately lacking in her last relationship), but after he beds her he stabs her in the back in private and leaves her. He got what he wanted at the expense of her losing everything she wanted, this time as her world caved in seemingly for good. She feels like she gave up everything she thought she might have had for a chance that this is where the universe has been point her all along, only to be left broken for good (you represent the loss of my life as I knew it).

Then there are two sort of codas to this. In “But Daddy I Love Him” we get a sassier reimagining of “Love Story,” where the girl with the scarlet letter is mouthy and crass and tells everyone to go fuck themselves for cursing her in the first place, choosing her love above all else. And no, those haters can’t come to her wedding. Her daddy may have come around, but they sure can’t. Finally it seems someone is choosing her and will someday give her these things, and she’ll be able to show all the naysayers. (Also interestingly one of the more fictionally-veiled songs which ends happily vs the diaristic ones that don’t.)

Then of course there’s “So High School,” our first glimpse into what the future holds. Probably the only unabashedly happy (nay… electric?) song on the album, it’s all about reclaiming the buzz of youth (which is a whole other post) with a new lover. “Are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me? It’s just a game but really, I’m betting on all three for us two.” It’s, er, a direct nod to a certain now-infamous interview, but again, she’s staking her claim on her future, if not certain then at least hopeful again. This time the prospect doesn’t come with a “but.” It’s not, we’ll be pushing strollers but actually you’re too young. It’s not, we had these dreams for our future but actually I can’t move forward. It’s not, I’m going to promise you a ring and a baby but only until my needs are met and then I’m out. It’s, I know what I wanted and I’m not leaving, and thanks to that now she stays too.

The album dealt with the theme not at all in the way I expected, but is absolutely fascinating.

[butteronabun]

woah, it’s just so easy to be sentimental

– an alhaitham x female reader, fwb au

overview: this conversation with him was eventually coming—it’s alhaitham, after all.

wc: 1.3k

notes: this is a modern au! also, implied smexy times but nothing explicit happens. c:

“What do you even benefit from this?” You finally speak, after two minutes of catching your breath.

You’re currently laying on top of Alhaitham, with the side of your head buried on his enormous chest. He places the plush quilt on your lower body, and his hand stays on your back.

You hear his heartbeat calming down. 

But now, yours is the opposite. Forget about regaining your composure, now that the question is out—a question long overdue by the way—you have no choice but to swallow your anxiety and face it. You finally asked him. 

And this is a good thing, right? At least, even if his answer will probably shatter you just like how Cyno broke Tighnari’s window, the annoying questions in your head can finally shut up. Right? 

Who are you kidding? You feel like you’re going to combust. It's Alhaitham. Who knows what he’s gonna answer? 

“. . .You could actually choose other people than me to be your fuckbuddy, you know. There are far better candidates out there.” You remark, and you feel your chest tighten. Why is this so hard? You feel like breaking down. “Like, like. Um. I don’t know. Maybe that one girl from your Darshan? She seems really nice. Real gorgeous, too.”

Ah, yes. Here it comes. Comparing yourself to other women. Great. Now it’s harder than before. Sooner or later, you’ll have to participate in your own solo 'Try Not To Cry Challenge In Front of The Man Who Literally Folded You in Half Moments Ago.'

You feel Alhaitham’s pec vibrate on your cheek when he replies, “I have my reasons.”

Damn him and his reasons. You need his answers. Unfiltered answers. “Then give me one.”

You tense when his thumb of his hand—that’s still remained on your back—begin to rub through the fabric of the blanket. As your cheeks steam, you shut your eyes tightly from the sensation, wishing that Alhaitham won’t notice. But since he continues his ministrations anyway, it’s safe to conclude that he did. Sometimes, he’s a bastard. ( But you like him, though. And that sucks. Maybe. Maybe not. ) 

He supplies, “Our bodies are already familiar with each other. I’m not interested in getting intimate with another and testing the waters. That takes too much of my time.” 

Right. During your first and second sessions with Alhaitham, he seized the moments and explored what worked for you and what worked for him. What worked for the both of you. 

“Okay.” 

Perhaps, what he has said is already enough for you - but it’s bullshit in your own opinion if you think you’ll only be satisfied with that. You need to know more. Even if it’ll probably lead to your doom. Why can’t you just be relieved for once? Why are you always curious? Ugh, you really have it in you to become one of Vahumana’s top students! “What are the other reasons, then?”

His caressing comes into a halt. “Do you really want to know?

Wow. Now that sure is ominous. You open your eyes at that. The blunt Alhaitham asking you if you want to know? You lift your head from his chest and blink up at him in disbelief. You try to think of other things just so you can ignore the nervous ache in your stomach.

But it’s all pointless! Everything inside this room is all Alhaitham. Everything reminds him of you, because this is his room, for archon’s sake! You sigh heavily, and stare at his irritatingly handsome face. You, sadly, have no choice.

Even if you’ve seen this sight a hundred times already and even up close considering you’ve, ahem, with him, he still makes you flustered. One gaze and you’re out. One gaze and all your clothes are on the floor. 

Not to mention, it’s just so unfair that despite all the activities you’ve both shared, he’s still so attractive. And he’s glowing. How? Why are you so lucky? And out of all the people in the world, how did you end up in his bed?

The curiosity itches.

You poke at his skin repeatedly. “That’s why I’m asking? Why are you being sus, Alhaitham?”

He sends you a flat look. “Do you mean ‘suspicious’?”

You grin playfully at him. It’s hilarious to see him get offended whenever you use some slangs that he finds nonsensical. This is what he gets—you provoking him with words that he thinks are embarrassments to the languages.

Alhaitham exhales through his nose, then resumes on rubbing your back. “Give me a minute. I’m trying to weigh the pros and the cons. Apparently, it’s hard on my part because you are an unpredictable one.”

Your eyes sparkle. Now that the anxiousness has dissipated away, it’s replaced with excitement. “Ooh, this is new!” Alhaitham doesn’t open up much regarding his personal thoughts, so you’re relishing on this. “I’m a challenge to you?”

“Very much so.”

Really? A challenge for the intelligent Alhaitham? You? You chuckle, “Maybe you’re overthinking this!”

“Maybe I am.”

Then, you return to your position once more, content on making his chest a pillow. “So do you think I’m complicated?” 

“Do you want the truth?”

You huff. So many short questions and responses. You’re literally giving him the hint that he has the permission to tell you. “I didn’t reach out to you for nothing. What I like about you is that you’re brutally honest.”

Then, it’s quiet. 

Alhaitham’s thumb is still rubbing on your back. You grow a little worried, wondering why he has stopped answering. You’re about to raise your head again, until his available hand rests on top of it, preventing you from taking a glance at whatever expression he’s making.

“I have read a lot of books that are incredibly complicated—books that make people drop immediately because they find it hard to grasp and comprehend. Fortunately for me, I am not that type of person. I like the challenge, especially if it requires critical thinking. And in return, I gain new knowledge. I gain new lessons.”

Trying to make sense of it all, you hum inquisitively, “So, your point is?”

“So even if you are a mess—” “Hey!” “—Even if there are times that I find it difficult to understand your intentions or your actions, I have no plans of leaving you.”

Your heart performs somersaults. 

Oh. Oh.

All this? Coming from Alhaitham himself?

Impossible. There's just no way he said all that.

The words that you do not want to disclose reveal itselves anyway. “And. . .” You murmur, “. . .if you’re satisfied? W–will you abandon me like your other books that are gathering dust on the top shelves?”

“I’ll give you a chance to reflect on what you’ve just said. Your claims are as false as what the flat earthers fight for.” Alhaitham admonishes.

You are now the one who is rendered speechless. You don’t know if you should laugh again because the flat earthers became an example or if you should just stay silent. You don’t think you can take what he’s about to say next.

The organ inside your ribcage squeezes, and gradually, you quiver. The nervousness makes its grand entrance again.

You detach yourself from his chest once more, and meet his indifferent gaze. It’s expected, but your heart begins to pound when you realize that his eyes seem too intense this time. 

“Alhaitham. . .?”

“For the record, I don’t abandon the books. I read them once a year. And again, don’t compare yourself to bad similes—if you want me to revise it, I will be more than glad to construct one now.” The hand that’s on top of your head slides down, and he grabs your chin with his thumb and index finger. 

( Him and his habit of correcting your figures of speech. He always finds a way to insert this in every conversation, even in the most ridiculous and most serious of scenarios. )

“So,” Alhaitham lowers his eyelids, and you swallow. “Do you get what I’m trying to imply?”

You do.

And you’re not sure if you want to say yes.

Because once you nod or affirm, there’s no turning back from this.

[thethronezone]

High Consort to the Emperor

There's not enough Emperor x Reader content *rolls up my sleeves* Guess I have to do it myself.

First of all, I think the only way he would get into an actual, long term relationship would be if the other person were a perpetual. Like, he don't wanna invest time and effort and emotions into a person that is going to die of old age after, what, 200, 300 years? He did that shit when he was younger and that always hurt. He ain't doing that again.

Even if you are a perpetual though that's lived for thousands of years he's always going to act slightly patronizing towards you. He always thinks that he knows best and any arguments you have is simply seen as a tantrum on your end. He'll just wait until you've calmed down and come to your senses.

Partner is given the title of High Consort. Very neat title, all the benefits and you probably don't have to do any actual work. Maybe act nice and polite in front of high ranking officials but that's it. Of course, if you want to work then Big E ain't gonna stop you. In fact, he'll be happy that you're so invested in the Imperium! Here's some paperwork and administrative duties to keep you busy. Yeah, he mostly sees this as a way to keep you entertained and feeling useful.

You'll have anything you could ever think of. Any food, any clothing, any luxury. The Emperor says he doesn't like to spoil you but after returning from a long mission or whatever, he will always bring you something. Mostly just so he can show off and impress you. The man has a massive ego, what did you expect? For a guy that refuses to be called a god, he sure loves it when you worship him.

Rarely calls you your actual name, at least in public. Calls you a mixture of "Consort", "my Consort", and if he's feeling playful/flirty, "my star". Only really calls you your name behind closed doors, when it's just the two of you (plus any Custodian that might be there, he don't give a fuck).

Matching outfits! At least, you're matching him. Always some kind of gold in your outfits, be it golden threads or gold jewelry. Of course you also wear a laurel.

Likes having you by his side but can go for longer periods without your company, simply because he knows he will eventually see you and catch up. And by 'longer periods' I mean months, years, DECADES. He's a busy man, alright? Always acts like it's been no time at all since he last saw you when you finally reunite. After all, what is time for a man that is immortal and has lived for tens of thousands of years?

You have your own Custodi bodyguard that follows you everywhere. They were not chosen just for their skill but also because the actually know how to hold a conversation like a normal person. Are they still a brainwashed superhuman with unquestionable loyalty to the Emperor? Sure, but when you ask them how they are feeling they don't automatically go "Feelings are irrelevant, only service to the Emperor of Mankind matters" like majority of the Custodes do.

The Emperor prefers it when you stay in the Imperial Palace. Does he stop or forbid you from leaving? No, you're a grown person, you can make your own decisions. WILL have you followed however. Not because he doesn't trust you but he's got so many enemies that it would be stupid to assume no one would target you in order to get to him.

Malcador the Bestie! Will listen to you vent about your love life and then give you some solid advice. Is the advice slightly biased because he wants you to get along with the Emperor (which has proven to increase the man's effectiveness and willingness to collaborate by a staggering 1.4%)? Maybe, but it's still solid advice! Also brings you the best gossip.

[treacheryinblue]

「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter three

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, eventual smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 7.3k

masterlist

“Where do you think you're going, little deer?” 

You didn’t respond as strong hands circled around your waist from behind, his grip firm so he could force you back closer against him. There was zero fight in you because you had been imagining this moment from the very first time you laid eyes on him. You craved his skin on yours, his lips trailing your flushed body, fingers drifting lower and lower until he was able to trace along your inner thigh. 

“You shouldn't run from me. It isn't very nice.” 

A warmth spread through your body and collected right between your thighs where his fingers were dancing dangerously close to. His hips pushed into your backside, allowing you to feel that he was already achingly hard for you. You wanted to turn around and release him from his pants because it would be so easy for him to sink into you then. All you would have to do is spread your legs. 

Noah's free hand twisted in your hair and he roughly tugged your head back, baring your throat. A low growl emitted from deep within his chest as he kissed and bit up your sensitive skin, his tongue occasionally dragging across one of the superficial wounds to sooth the pain. Fuck, you were going to lose yourself before he even touched you where you needed him the most. Everything about him was just so intoxicating and you were hooked. This had to be what expensive designer drugs felt like. A high you would forever chase. 

“Do you know what happens to naive little deer who wander too close to the highway?” The grip he had on your hair tightened, your scalp screaming in pain. This was going beyond rough foreplay. Noah was actually trying to cause you harm. But why did it still feel so damn good? Your heart hammered within your chest loud enough that it was all you could hear over his sadistic chuckle. He released your hair so his hand could circle around to the front of your throat, encasing your delicate neck in his powerful hold. Your breath refused to enter your lungs, the fear of what he was capable of finally sinking in. 

“They become nothing more than a carcass on the side of the road. Decaying and forgotten.” 

X X X

The dream stuck with you throughout the day. It wasn't the first time you had experienced an X-rated fantasy about your favorite neighbor, but it was definitely the first time it had concluded like that. You usually woke up before it ended all together, your release never coming even in dreamland, though it seemed as if your subconscious was playing a deadly game with you now. Was it a warning to beware of Noah? Or simply your past intertwining with the present to forever haunt you? 

You stood in your living room, bowl of cereal in your hand, slowly chewing as you stared at your closed curtains. It was the first instance you had closed them for your own benefit since encountering Noah and something felt wrong about it but you needed your space. You needed a moment when you weren't searching for his face through panes of glass to get your thoughts straight. The dream had really fucked with you. 

Was he capable of those actions? You still knew next to nothing about him. Your late night texting sessions were spent mostly talking about nothing of importance, only surface level facts about each other. When would you be able to dive deeper into him? You couldn't even be mad at him for keeping you at an arm's length, though, because you were doing the same thing to him. That's what was safest for both of you. 

The sound of your phone vibrating from the kitchen counter broke your concentration. You circled around to where it rested, a mouthful of Lucky Charms hindering your ability to talk. The call ended before you could answer it, but immediately started vibrating again for a second incoming call. 

Speak of the devil. 

“Hello?” You answered after struggling to swallow your sugary cereal in time. 

“Are you okay?” Noah immediately questioned, his voice full of worry. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Was I supposed to be at work already? I thought I wasn't in until 9 –”

“Your curtains are closed.” 

You paused, your eyes glancing to the curtains that most certainly were pulled taut. You knew he would notice but you didn't think he would actually care. 

“The sun was glaring in all weird earlier. I nearly went blind.” You tried to lighten the mood with a soft laugh despite your easily spoken lie. 

“Open them.” He demanded, disregarding your explanation. Your mouth opened and closed with a lack of words because you had no idea how to respond to him. Noah was bossy towards you when at work, as you expected, but this side of him was rarely ever seen beyond the doors of Nocturnal. 

“Please,” he continued, his tone apologetic. “I just need to be able to see you.” 

You said nothing as you crossed over your living room and to the far wall where the window was typically seen. Heavily sighing, you forced the material apart, opening back up his view to the privacy of your life. He stood in his own apartment, a wave of relief visibly washing over him when his eyes locked with yours. 

“There. Happy?” Before he was able to respond, you ended the call and turned on your heel to saunter away from the window. He said he wanted the curtains open, not that you had to remain in view. 

X X X

HOT NEIGHBOR: Let me drive you to work. 

YOU: It’s okay. I don't mind the walk. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: It's freezing outside. We're headed to the same place. I'd be an asshole if I let you walk in the cold by yourself. 

You were still mad at him for his little show of dominance earlier but you couldn't pass on the offer. Noah was right, it was freezing outside and your Nocturnal uniform was not meant to keep you warm in the least bit. The club did offer a dressing room for the employees so you could always dress more practical during your commute but the less time you spent in an area without cameras, the better. There was no telling what sort of havoc Charlotte was in the mood to wreak on any given day. 

That logic is what brought you to sitting in the passenger seat of Noah’s black Porsche Cayenne. His business car, so he exclaimed upon noticing the look you gave the luxury SUV. 

“I'm sorry,” Noah finally said after five whole minutes of awkward silence settled in. “For how I acted…about the curtains.” 

You pried your eyes from the blur of the city so you could look at him. He appeared genuine in his apology, at least from what you could tell. So, you were going to give him the benefit of the doubt this time. You couldn't think of a single reason as to why you shouldn't and hopefully this didn't turn around to bite you in the ass. “It's fine,” you replied, offering a soft smile. “I appreciate the apology, though.” 

Noah's posture remained tense, your acceptance of his apology not easing the obvious discomfort he felt. You studied him for a moment, your eyes tracing along his clenched jaw, down the length of his arms, pausing at the way he was white knuckle gripping the steering wheel. Normally you would be scared if it was Vane sitting there, giving off the same energy, but when it was Noah…all you wanted to do was comfort him. 

“I promise I wasn't trying to be some weird pervert,” he further explained after taking a glance at you and clocking your concerned expression. “I just needed to make sure that you were okay.”

Shit. Did Noah know more about your past than what he was letting on? No, there was no way. Not unless he and Jolly did a deep dive after realizing the name and social security number you gave weren't in existence a year ago. Shit.

“Why wouldn't I have been okay?” You finally plucked up the courage to ask. 

“A lot of crazy people in the city,” he murmured. No further explanation given. 

X X X 

A lot of crazy people in the city, he had said with that arrogantly enticing voice of his. What the fuck did that mean? It wasn't like you didn't already know this, but why was he saying it to you as if you weren't already aware? You couldn't shake the feeling that maybe it was a warning. Definitely not a threat…right? That couldn't be it. Noah wouldn't have been concerned about your safety if he was threatening you. Fuck. You hated this game. 

Dragging your fingers through your hair, you took in a deep breath and then slowly exhaled, eyes focused down on the tips you had finished counting. It was just enough to cover the remainder of your bills that were coming up, which you were praying your thanks for to whatever God was out there and listening. This meant you wouldn't have to beg Jolly to put you on for an extra shift. Amazing. Your pride could hang on for at least another month. 

Money hadn't always been an issue. Your father was a wealthy man, which subsequently meant you were too when growing up, but you eventually stopped relying on him. After finding out where all of this money of his came from, you began working little jobs to support yourself. He never let you move out, not until Vane, so you had no choice in terms of lodging. But everything else? You paid for yourself. You didn't want his blood money. It wasn't yours to take. 

“Not as much as you were hoping for, new girl?” 

Charlotte laughed to herself as she came walking into the dressing room, her hips dramatically swaying with every step she took. She was eying you with one of her little shit eating grins that usually meant she was seconds away from making your night hell, and you were so far from in the mood for it. Why couldn't you just have one peaceful shift? That's all you were asking for. 

Quickly you began to gather your tips, neatly stacking all of the bills together into a pile that you could easily grab while standing from the vanity. You barely even looked Charlotte’s way, but you could feel the animosity radiating off of her. She truly had it out for you, although you weren't sure if it was completely because of Noah. You barely even crossed paths with him when at work. 

“Saw you getting out of King’s car earlier.” 

Well…fuck. Maybe it was all because of Noah after all. 

You heavily sighed after tucking your tips away as you shimmied your work skirt off of your hips and down your legs, only to replace it with a pair of comfy sweatpants. Silence continued to be your only means of defense. Your goal was to have Charlotte grow bored of tormenting you so she could move on to someone else. You didn't think that was too horrible of a plan…if it worked out in your favor. 

“Not even going to try to deny it? Wow, you're already getting around fast. Wonder how long it'll be before the boss wants his go at you too. They're known to share.” 

Venom laced her words, each one meant to hurt you, but it would take a lot more than some immature comments to get under your skin. Was it annoying? Yes. Was it going to make you lose your cool? No. 

“I'm sure they are,” you muttered without a hint of emotion. While you didn't really believe Charlotte, you also couldn't say for sure. These men were still mostly strangers to you, especially Jolly. There was no way of knowing what sort of vile or perverse things they got into behind closed doors. 

As you snatched your bag out of your locker, you made a beeline for the door that would lead you away from Charlotte and closer to the safety of your own home. Multiple pairs of eyes watched you from the circle of mirrors, all of them curious as to what would happen next. You wanted to yell that there would be no show for them but you were immediately proven wrong. The rough collision of a bony shoulder into your own made you stagger back a step. Did she really just fucking shoulder check you? Your eyes remained set forward, jaw clenched, heart rate increasing by the second. 

Now that would cause you to lose your cool. 

The bag you held was then released from your grip and you rushed over to the mostly plastic blonde. She gasped at the sudden motions you made, the sound of it being silenced from the way you forced her roughly into the wall. Your body leaned into hers to prevent her from slipping away, the length of your forearm securing at the base of her neck. It wasn't just men you were tired of pushing you around – it was everyone. 

“Keep fucking with me and you will regret it.”

“Get off of me, you crazy bitch!”

Charlotte was looking at you with panic in her eyes. Her acrylic nails dug into your forearm as she tried to rip you off of her, but there was a strength behind your stance that most never noticed until you were having to prove to them just how not passive and weak you were. In your mind, it was their fault that things escalated to this because they were the ones underestimating you. It wasn't the first time and it surely wouldn't be the last. 

With your eyes glaring into Charlotte’s, you waited a couple of more seconds before finally releasing her. She shoved you away, her own body quickly putting space between you in a simultaneous motion. That's when your expression softened and you glanced around, noticing that all eyes were indeed on you again. Only Charlotte looked frightened, while the others were merely a mixture of slight shock and maybe a hint of impressed. It wasn't often that people stood up to Charlotte. 

“You're fucking insane,” Charlotte hissed. You ignored her, silence overtaking you again as you gathered your things and headed out of the dressing room without so much as a glance back. Maybe you were insane, and for good reason, but your little show of dominance had not been done in the name of insanity. Charlotte would eventually come to realize this. 

You hadn't yet made it out of Nocturnal when a dark figure fell into step at your side. You didn't need to look his way to know who it was because you could feel him. You somehow always knew when he was near. It was a lame superpower but maybe it would one day come in handy. 

“Where are you headed in such a hurry?” Images from your dream flashed before your eyes. Your jaw clenched, though you tried your best to remain unresponsive to it. 

“Home.”

“If you linger for a bit longer I can give you a ride.” 

Maybe Noah wasn't picking up on your sour mood or maybe he was choosing to ignore it. Either way, you weren't interested in finding out whatever underlying motives he had for being so nice to you, so you shook your head in a silent response. He wasn't good for you. This place sure as hell wasn't either, but it would have to do until you could find something better. Preferably somewhere less chaotic. 

“What happened?” Cool fingers lightly wrapped around your wrist so he could bring your arm up a bit more in the dim lighting for a better view. Noah’s brows pulled together in worry, his focus shifting from the red claw marks going across your forearm to your eyes despite how you refused to meet his gaze. You heavily sighed, your annoyance towards him keeping you from exiting the building rather obvious. 

“Nothing. I'm fine.” 

“Who did this to you?” He continued to press. 

You finally looked at the scratches on your arm that were the only evidence of the altercation you had with Charlotte. Some spots were deeper than others, blood lightly pooling at the surface but not enough to spill over. The wounds would heal in a matter of days so you weren't sure why Noah was concerned about it, especially when you weren't. 

“I probably just grazed the counter or something,” you explained the injury away while tugging your arm out of his grip. 

Noah’s gaze never faltered from your own. If anything, it only grew in intensity. You could practically see all the things he wanted to say swirling around in his head, though you both remained silent for a long moment. This seemed to be the usual for you – both of you waiting for the other to break first. 

Slowly he descended upon you, his steps heavy and deliberate. You felt like you had no choice but to take careful paces backwards until your back hit a wall and you were cornered. You could've slipped away by side stepping him but something about the way he was looking at you had you in a daze. You didn't want to be anywhere but beneath his sights. 

His tattooed fingers ghosted along your injured forearm and over your shoulder, only to pause at the angle of your jaw. Your breath hitched in your throat, chills forming along your skin in the wake of his touch. Fuck. Was this another dream? It felt very real but you weren't going to put it past your subconscious to conjure up such a scenario. 

“You need to tell me if someone here is hurting you.” His voice was low and soothing, the epitome of danger. The backs of his fingers then caressed your jaw, down to the side of your neck. You tried to remain as guarded as possible but your body soon betrayed you by releasing the smallest of whimpers. You were praying he hadn't heard it, although the slight uptick of the corner of his lips told you otherwise. 

Swallowing, you again shook your head. “No one is hurting me.” 

You couldn't reveal the culprit of the scratches without also throwing yourself under the bus. Charlotte may have been the instigator, as usual, but you overreacted in a way that wasn't characteristically you. You were at just as much fault as she was and you couldn't stand having another little talk with Charlotte, Noah, and Jolly about it. 

What if Noah's view on you changed if he were to find out about the secrets and darkness lurking within you? 

He breathed out through his nose as his hand fell away from your body. You could tell that he was disappointed in your response, easily seeing through the lie. But what could he do? Clearing his throat, he took a step back while slipping his hand into his pocket, mimicking your nod. 

“Let me know when you're home safe.” Noah requested, or more so demanded, before leaving you in the corner and heading back the way he had come. 

NOAH 

That goddamn whimper was going to be the death of him. It replayed on a loop in his head again and again, the smallest of sounds becoming his new favorite song. He wanted to know what other sort of noises he could pull from you. Were you all heavy breaths and whimpers when it came down to it? Or were you loud and unapologetic for the sounds of pleasure erupting from you? His dick twitched at the mere thought, causing him to mentally scold himself for stooping to such levels. 

Shaking off all thoughts of you, he typed the code into the keypad that separated him from Jolly’s office. The lock released, allowing him entry. Jolly sat behind his desk wearing the same perplexed expression as usual, his eyes focused on his computer screen. Neither said anything, the only sound coming from Noah dropping down into the chair across from the desk. He could be more relaxed when it was just the two of them – his mask temporarily removed. 

“I still haven't gotten a hit.” 

Jolly had been trying his best to find any sort of information about you, but ultimately came up empty handed. Your name led nowhere. Social security number, nowhere. Even the fucking phone number had zero information tied to it. You were obviously trying to hide yourself and it was clear you had paid someone a pretty penny to do so. 

“I don't think she's dangerous. She doesn't seem like she knows anything about her other…employer.” Noah shrugged, his hands folded and resting on his lower stomach. He wanted to believe that this was true. He wanted so badly to believe that you weren't placed in his path on purpose by an opposing force. Maybe fate was blessing him for once and you were something good. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, man. You're already caught up on her?” Jolly shook his head, a chuckle of disbelief sounding from him. 

“I'm not caught up,” he defended. “I just don't see the reason for wasting our resources on one girl. I mean, think about it.” Noah shifted his position so he was leaning forward, elbows propped up on his knees. “We make a living off girls who don't want to be found. Never once have you doubted them.” 

“Their situations aren't the same and you know that.” 

“How do we know her situation isn't the same?” 

It wasn’t often that Noah disagreed with his best friend because their opinions and morals typically aligned. So why was Jolly so stuck on this? 

“Fucking pussy whipped.” Jolly muttered with a shake of his head. 

That made Noah’s hands twitch, his lips pressing into a straight line that told Jolly he was walking on thin ice. They may be best friends and business partners, but not even that would stop Noah from putting him in his place if he had to. 

The ringing of Jolly’s phone cut through the thickening tension, allowing them both a moment to decompress. 

“Now?” He questioned the person on the other line, his eyes rolling. “Why the fuck is someone here now?” 

Noah raised his brows. Visitors? 

“Were they searched? Thoroughly?” Jolly paused, the other person speaking. “Fine. Bring them up.” 

“Who is it?” Noah rolled his shoulders back while standing from the chair so he could take his spot at Jolly’s side. He thought this was going to be a relaxing night but from the clench in his friend's jaw, it didn't seem as if it was headed that way. 

“Never heard of them. They're from out of state.” 

The words were murmured just as a knock came from the door, which Jolly promptly pressed the button beneath his desk to unlock. Three men came waltzing in, all of them with a chip on their shoulders. One guy was bigger than him and Jolly put together, the other two more their size. Noah studied them all, remembering as many defining characteristics as he could just in case shit went south. One could never be too careful. 

“You're Jolly?” The man in the center spoke, his eyes looking the boss up and down as if he wasn't impressed. 

“In the flesh.”

All three men chuckled to themselves but their focus remained forward. Or so Noah assumed, considering the man on the right was wearing a pair of dark tinted sunglasses. It was night time and they were indoors but who was he to judge someone’s unfortunate fashion choices? 

“You can call me Dante,” Center Man lamely introduced himself. 

Jolly gave a slight nod, his body language reading as neutral but Noah knew otherwise. “What can I help you gentlemen with?” 

The man in the center, Dante, rummaged through the pocket of his coat, immediately sending Noah’s senses into high alert. His fingertips grazed the handle of the knife he had slid up his sleeve as he crossed his arms in a nonchalant manner. No way were these imbeciles getting the jump on them. 

“We’re looking for someone. A girl.” 

Laughter erupted from Jolly, his gaze shifting back to Noah who joined in on the laughter, but only faintly. 

“Aren't we all? I, myself, would love to find a natural red head with a bright smile, about…this tall.” He held his hand up to about the height of his shoulder, a dreamy exhale to follow. “No luck so far, I'm afraid.” 

Dante tossed a picture down onto the desk, his demeanor proving how uninterested he was in Jolly’s jokes. “We're looking for this girl. A friend said she's been hanging around your establishment.” 

Noah stepped forward so he could peer down at the image while Jolly did the same. His insides churned, all thoughts briefly leaving his mind. On the inside he was spinning, but on the outside he appeared as collected as ever. He always did have a poker face that couldn't be rivaled. It had never failed him before but seeing your face between Jolly’s fingers was surely putting it to the test. 

Heavily exhaling, Jolly held the picture up higher as if he was thoroughly examining it. There was no doubting who it was staring back at them, though. Your face was one he had memorized perfectly by now. 

“Can't say she looks familiar,” the boss placed the picture back down, pushing it towards the men. “I think I'd remember a pretty little thing like that. I guess your friend was misinformed.” 

Noah knew Jolly was acting his part but that didn't stop his molars from grinding at the way he spoke of you. He glanced between all three men, his eyes lingering just a bit longer on Sunglasses Man due to the way his fist clenched in response to Jolly’s statement. 

Interesting. 

“And what about you? Seen her around?” 

The question was now directed at Noah, which he promptly responded to with a shake of his head. “Being head of security, I have a decent memory of those who come and go from here, especially if it's on the regular. But I've never seen this girl before.” 

“You don't think she could've slipped through unnoticed?” Dante followed up with another question, his stare menacing. 

Noah merely raised a brow, a silent warning for the unknown man to realize who the fuck he was talking to. 

To break through the silence, Jolly cleared his throat, a hand motioning down to the picture of you again. “Is she dangerous? Someone we should be on the lookout for?” 

The picture was snatched from the table and securely tucked away in Dante’s pocket again. He glanced to Sunglasses before giving a mediocre shrug and wickedly grinning. “You could say that.” 

Slowly nodding, Jolly took a few steps around his desk so he could be more head on with the men. He continued to keep his composure friendly and calm, a hand extending out towards the only door in the office. “If there's nothing else we can do for you, let me walk you back down. Maybe we can have a drink on the house.” 

The unknown men murmured amongst each other but ultimately followed the boss’ guidance out of the office, Sunglasses taking a final look back to Noah. He didn't need to see his eyes to know that he was looking him up and down, probably trying to memorize everything he could just as Noah had. 

There were a few short seconds where it was Jolly and Noah left, just enough time for Jolly to convey a look that told him to get to the bottom of this. 

He didn't need to be told twice. Not when his mind was already racing with different scenarios. Maybe Jolly was right and you were working for the enemy, thus making you a risk. That just wasn't the sort of feeling Noah got when he was with you, though, but there was always a chance. He didn't know you. What if everything you had ever said about yourself was a complete lie? A fabricated version meant to get close to him in order to tear apart his business from the inside out? 

Noah ran a hand over his face, his thumb and forefinger pressing into his eyes while he released a sigh of pure frustration. There was a headache brewing beneath the surface, the pressure beginning to build. Before he could get too caught up in his thoughts, the feeling of his phone vibrating within his pocket brought him back down from the edge. 

YOU: Made it home. 

Attached was a picture of your window with the curtains pulled open still. He could barely make out the image of your reflection silhouetted on the glass. 

Good, because this meant he knew exactly where to find you. 

READER

You could've sworn you had turned all the lights off. Actually, you were pretty certain of it. You vividly remember flipping the light switch down in your kitchen and living room before going to shower because your sleeve had gotten hung…so why was there now a dim glow illuminating the hallway in front of your room? Although you were tired, you knew you weren't that tired to have imagined it. 

One hand rubbed your sleep heavy eyes as the other trailed the wall to help you maintain your balance. You were half conscious; your hair was still damp, so you knew you hadn't been asleep for too long, but it was seemingly just the right amount to leave you slightly disoriented. As you came to a stop in the living room, your gaze narrowed at the back of the figure standing in front of your window. That's when your heart immediately began to race, your eyes widening, the adrenaline seeping into your veins. Your first instinct was to run but your body hesitated to the command. 

No. It couldn't be. He wasn't…you had…it was impossible for Vane to be there. 

“You're a heavy sleeper.” 

Blinking, you took a step back. That voice didn't belong to Vane. It was far too calming. Not quite manic enough. 

“I wasn't exactly quiet when I helped myself to a glass of water after washing your dishes.” 

“Noah?” 

The man turned, his brows raised while taking in the image of your stumped and alarmed face. You were sure you were quite the sight right then. His features began to sharpen the longer you stared at him, your bearings slowly returning to you. Damn. You really must've been in a deep sleep for it to be taking this long to wear off. 

“What are you doing here? How…” you glanced to your front door that was still securely locked. “How did you get in?” 

Was it odd that you still weren't scared of him? How fucked up did that make you? There you were, standing pantsless and unarmed, with a mostly unknown man staring at you as if you were his prey. Someone sane would've ran for a weapon - the side lamp was closest to you - but the thought didn't even cross your mind. Fuck, he really did have you under some sort of spell. 

“I have a question for you, but I'm only going to ask it once.” Noah slowly began to close the space between you until he was within arms reach. You followed every motion, your hands fisted at your side – not in preparation to defend yourself, but so you weren't tempted to touch him. 

“And you only have one chance to answer it honestly. Tell me that you understand.” 

You gave a small nod, the response barely noticeable. You knew you needed to run. You needed to put as much space between you two as you possibly could. Did you do either of those things? Of course not. 

Noah’s eyes trailed your face. You could see him shifting from your own eyes, to your nose, and then down to your lips. He briefly paused, straightened his posture and hardened his expression, then bore into your eyes again. You noticed the mask from Nocturnal being pulled down. This wasn't going to be the hot neighbor version of Noah you had grown fond of. 

“Who are you?”

Fuck. 

Your head shook in feigned confusion, brows furrowing. “What do you mea–”

Suddenly his hand was around your throat, all words halting on your tongue. Your head was forced back due to his firm grip, giving you no choice but to look up at him. The hold he had on you wasn't painful despite his strength which told you that he wasn't out for blood…yet. His lips pressed into a thin line to showcase his impatience, a deep exhale exiting from his nose. This may be the first time you actually felt threatened by Noah. And for good reason considering your life was literally in his hands. 

“I'm not going to repeat myself.” 

You grabbed his wrist as his hand tightened around your throat. It wasn't enough to cut off your breathing, but it did convey the warning you knew he was trying to extend. Your gaze remained locked on his, silently begging with your eyes for him to let you go. Noah appeared none the wiser to it and instead dragged you closer against him until your bodies were flush. Any other time you would have been ecstatic for the closeness. 

Tears began welling in your eyes and you shook your head the best you could. “I can't,” you gasped. 

“Then tell me who sent you.” Noah demanded before roughly guiding you back into the closest wall. His body still never strayed from yours. 

“What?” You were definitely confused now. “No one sent me!” Releasing his wrist, you began to push at his chest in a vain attempt to get him off of you. As much as you enjoyed the warmth and hardness of his body along yours, you weren't prepared to die for it. 

“I don't believe in coincidences. You just so happened to move into an apartment with a perfect view of mine and then get a job at the club I own? Someone planted you and I need you to tell me who.” 

Noah was fighting off every push and smack you made to his chest with only one hand as if he had played this game hundreds of times. You groaned in frustration, a string of jumbled profanities escaping past your lips. 

“I moved here because it's where my best friend lives! She also knows Shauna, who's the person that suggested I apply at Nocturnal! Now get off of me!” 

Finally your hand collided with his cheek in a loud slap that sent his head twisting to the side. Your motions stalled, eyes widening, both of you falling silent. Noah’s jaw clenched hard enough that you could see the tick of the muscle straining. There was a part of you that wanted to know what it would feel like beneath your tongue despite the current position he had you in. That part of yourself scared you a little bit. You were supposed to be fearful of this man, right? He had broken into your home and was now interrogating you, all actions that would panic a normal person. 

Little did Noah know, you had endured much worse and come out the victor. That's how you were still here today. 

Before you could further react, Noah had you turned around and shoved into the wall again with a force that temporarily had you seeing stars. The front of his body pressed into your back, his mouth situated close enough to your ear that you could feel the shift of his lips with every word he spoke. 

“Why are you lying to me?” A shiver raced down your spine, his voice low and threatening. Gone was the calming tone. Something about it was getting the opposite intended reaction from you, though. You had to press your thighs together to get your thoughts straight enough to respond. 

“I'm not…I swear. That's the truth.” 

Your breathing was slightly labored, strands of hair that had fallen into your face now waving with every exhale. Noah didn't lessen his hold on you but you could feel his body relax somewhat, his left hand lifting to brush your hair gently from your face. He then gripped your chin and turned your head until you were peering at him from over your shoulder. The tension around his eyes had softened, so you allowed your own expression to do the same. You could've fought him off if you really wanted to. Deep down you knew this. So…why weren't you? 

Silence overcame you both. Each challenging the other.

“Do people want you dead?” You finally asked when he made no move to speak again. He seemed too distracted by the shape of your lips – that being where his eyes had lingered. 

“Yes, a few.” 

“They're dangerous?” 

Noah nodded, his fingers flexing along your jaw. “Yes.”

“Are you…dangerous?” 

After a brief moment of contemplation, he again nodded. “When I have to be.”

“Who are you?” This time you asked the million dollar question of him, your voice a near whisper but still unwavering. 

A faint smirk pulled at Noah’s lips and then he was leaning in closer, your faces on the verge of touching. You could feel his breath on your cheek, the minty scent clouding your senses and causing you to involuntarily push back against him. He must have liked that by the way he sharply inhaled, his free hand dropping to palm your hip with a near bruising grip. Only an inch or so further and his fingertips would be grazing your bare thigh – something you were idiotically hoping for.  

As if he could read your mind, his hand began a slow descent past the hem of the oversized tee you were wearing. Noah took his time tracing your skin, drifting closer and closer to the thin material of your panties, only to pause the moment he made contact. Images from your dream swirled within your mind again. Were you some kind of psychic or something? This was all feeling way too familiar. 

“I think I asked you first.” 

You breathed out shakily. Every nerve in your body was on fire. You had never craved another person like you did him, even when he was threatening you. 

Did you cave in to his demands and tell him who you were? Was that a risk you were willing to take? You weren't so sure. If you confessed to everything and ended up dead because of it, then you would have no one to blame but yourself. And what if he also ended up six feet under? You would never be able to forgive yourself. 

“Noah…please…” your voice shook and your bottom lip quivered, tears still threatening to fall past your lashes. You needed him to believe you and to stop digging; not just for your safety, but also his. “I promise I'm not after you or the club.” 

He scoffed from the back of his throat in response, his gaze intensifying ever so slightly again. “You expect me to believe that? After seeing the type of people that are asking about you? Who you work for? It's going to take more than some pretty begging to convince me otherwise.” 

Wait…what? 

Your body jerked slightly – an attempt to move away from him but the annoying fucking wall was in the way. Quickly you made a rash decision and pushed his hand from between your thighs (something you were sure you would come to regret) and then sent your elbow driving back into his chest. Noah grunted on impact, though his body only stumbled back a couple of steps before he was righting himself. That was fine. It was more than enough room for you to turn to face him. 

In a swift motion, you had his knife in your grasp after slyly snatching it from his pocket, the blade extended and pointed at his neck. He shouldn't have been so obvious about where he kept it when you were around. His fault for underestimating you. All this time he never thought of you as a threat and look at where that landed him. 

“What did you just say?” 

“Give me the knife.” Noah held one hand out towards you as the other rubbed the spot on his chest you had made contact with. You liked that you had been able to take him by surprise. 

“Who? Who was asking about me?!”

This was all you were concerned about. You no longer gave a fuck about who Noah thought you were or what he thought you were after because none of it mattered when you were still actively being hunted. 

Noah's lips curved into a sideways smirk yet again, his eyes then looking you up and down as if this was the first time he had ever seen you. And maybe it was. You clearly were no longer his curious and innocent neighbor with a staring problem. No, you were his stubborn as fuck neighbor that knew her way around a weapon and would use one unapologetically if pushed to it. 

“You know what…” Noah stood to his full height and adjusted the jacket he wore by tugging on the front. He took on an impressed face, his hands raising to silently show his surrender. “You can keep it.”

Silence continued to overtake you as you studied his every move. You weren't going to let your guard down. Not now that you knew what he was capable of, at least to an extent. One wrong move and you could end the night with this blade in your chest. 

“Tell me who would be looking for you and I'll see what I can do to help.”

“Why the hell would you do that when I'm still pointing a knife at you?” 

“Because you're obviously scared.” 

Noah was right. As much as you hated to admit it, you were scared. It wasn't a secret, but you did greatly dislike showing any sort of weakness in that realm. Never had it gotten you anywhere before but bruised and sometimes bloodied. 

You didn't even notice as Noah approached. You were too lost in your mind. He carefully took the knife from your trembling hand, his touch hesitant but soft. The tough exterior you had tried to wear so well finally cracked, your true fear showing through. Tears that had been held at bay all this time broke free and a couple of droplets slowly slid down your flushed cheeks. 

“Anyone looking for me wants me dead,” you revealed in a barely-there murmur. 

Almost immediately his arms were wrapped around you. Noah pulled you in close, allowing you to tuck your head into his chest where your tears could freely fall. You clung to him, your fingers grasping at the back of his jacket and fisting the material into your palms. There was barely a time you had felt safe in years, not until that very moment. 

“I'll tell you, okay? I'll tell you whatever you need to know.” Your words found space between your hiccups and sniffles. You were trying to put the dam back into place so your tears would cease, but that would always be much easier said than done. 

Noah shifted until he could grasp your shoulders. He pulled you away from his chest solely so your eyes could meet. You knew yours were red and puffy now, all while he kept ahold of that intense gaze of his that he did so well. It was so easy to get lost in the deep brown color. 

“I'm not going to let anyone hurt you,” he exclaimed. “Just trust me.” 

You nodded while silently praying that you weren't about to make a decision you would ultimately come to regret. 

CHAPTER FOUR

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[revelboo]

Just letting you know because of you and your amazing fics I got a soundwave blokees (I'm so sane and will not need anymore (I'm going dellulu)

But he’ll be lonely…

They’re excited about a road trip

Everything Is Alright Pt 83

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “Megatron finding out was inevitable,” he says, deep tonal voice low as his servos flex. Wishes he could reach for you even if it’s just to slide a servo against your hair. But he can feel that molten anger just barely leashed from the Seeker. Knows any move to come closer will be met with violence. You’re willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, but Starscream will never trust him again. “Safe under his protection now.” Only because it amuses the warlord to have a way to manipulate Starscream and ensure good behavior. He knows how precarious this is. How dangerous.

• “His protection?” Starscream snarls, wings trembling slightly in fury. Of course, Soundwave thinks you’re safe now. He’s never been on the receiving end of Megatron’s fury, always been favored. You’ll just be a toy he can amuse himself with until he grows bored or breaks you. Toying with you just to hurt him, amusing himself with casual violence just to hear you in pain. “I’ve seen how little his protection is worth.”

• Uncertain, you look between them. Torn between the fear Starscream’s anger is sparking and wanting to believe that Soundwave really did this as a kindness. That he’d been trying to keep you safe. You know them both. Are familiar with them. Megatron’s a complete unknown. He hasn’t harmed you yet, but if Star’s right his temper is too mercurial to trust. But maybe it’s like when you first figured out how starved Star was for validation. You’d manipulated him, feeding his ego to stay alive. Eventually you hadn’t had to lie to him, you’d started actually caring. You can play the same game with Megatron. Figure out how to be what he needs to keep yourself and Star safe until he bores of you. “Okay,” you say tiredly.

• “You can’t possibly believe him,” Starscream growls, looking down at you, wings flaring. Venting tiredly when you lay a hand on his chassis. “Primus.” Your trusting nature is going to be the end of him. Knows it, but still can’t bring himself to crush your trust, because if not for it, he wouldn’t have this. Have you. All because you’d trusted him again and again. Just kept reaching for him. So believe what you need to, and he’ll keep watch, waiting for the next betrayal. “Megatron is dangerous.”

• Spark aching that you’re still willing to take him at his word even though he hurt you, Soundwave’s head lowers. Because the Seeker isn’t wrong. Megatron is unpredictable and his anger all consuming. “We can protect. Keep him in line.” You’re looking up at him, eyes uncertain as the Seeker laughs, head tipping back to stare at the ceiling. Hoping this isn’t a mistake. That he made the right decision even as he’s not sure how to curb the warlord’s worst impulses. This was the only path forward, though. Needs to believe that it won’t cost him everything. Because what he has now? He’s not sure he’d survive losing it without finding out where it will go. Wants to wake up to your warmth against him, feel you drowsing in his cassette compartment, your wild emotions spinning him tight when he touches you. Wants everything.

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[loverzoath]

Safe Haven ❀

Relationship: Child!Dean & Child!Sam & Foster parent!Reader

Summary: Reader is a foster parent takes in Dean and Sam Winchester, two young brothers with a difficult past, determined to provide them with a safe and loving home.

Word Count: 3,020

a/n: I don’t really know how fostering works 100% so feel free to correct me 😓.

The first time you ever heard of the Winchesters was when Sandra -your CASA- gave you a call around 6 pm informing you she has a file for you about 2 boys.

Dean and Sam Winchester. 3 and 7 years old. Both are currently at the Children’s Home Society of North Carolina. You are familiar with the Home since you usually volunteer on weekends. Sandra spoke in a rush, which was absolutely not like her, explaining the need of a foster home in short notice. Even in extreme cases you were usually given a 2 weeks notice to get ready for a child you would shelter.

So when Sandra said she would be there with them tomorrow you knew it was a serious case.

You have been a foster parent for 9 years. And one thing you learned was that with this job came a lot of unpredictable things. When you first became a foster parent, it was at the age of 22, fresh out of college as an RN. It was from there you decided on becoming a school nurse. It was the only nursing occupation that lined up with your responsibilities as a foster mom. A job where you work the same place your child learns and you can be a nurse? Yes please!

Another reason is the benefits that would come from working in the same school for almost a decade. The staff are well known and your boss understands when you need a week or two off to adjust to another little person in your home. Last time you called off was 7 months ago for a young boy named Jack. So that should be enough time to ask for another break.

You immediately call Wesson, your boss. He was a sweet person. Though the opposite is commonly thought when people first meet him. His expensive suits and watches make him look serious. And Wess is anything but. He loves his little lego collection he has growing in his bottom shelf. The phone only rings twice before his cheery voice floats through the speaker.

“Good evening, ________.” He greets politely

“Good evening, Mr. Wesson- I mean Wess.” After the day you helped his daughter through her first cycle in school she gave her father quite the adulation of the scene because the next day you got a personal thanks and permission to call Mr. Wesson, Wess. “I would like to request 2 weeks off?”

“Of course! I'll schedule it for next month then?” There was a bit of shuffling on his end. Wesson knew your responsibilities as a foster parent and when you usually ask for a break.

“Actually, I know it's short notice but I need it for this week and the next?” You grimace a little as you force the words out

“Not a problem ________, but I will say this is new. Why so suddenly?” He spoke more softly now and i knew he was asking not as my boss but a friend.

“Yeah it’s apparently a very serious case. I didn't even get all the information before she hung up.” I sighed heavily though the receiver

“How about this then, take another week. We have the manpower to handle a couple nosebleeds.” He proceeds to laugh at his own joke a little too long.

“Thank you Wess. I need to get the rooms ready now, tell Annabeth I said good night.”

“Of course. you take care of yourself.” Wess said (demanded) before he hung up

You start up the stairs immediately. Being a foster parent means having rooms open and available. 7 and 3. You have Jack's room still made and can be for Dean. In Sam’s case, you have a room for toddlers but you haven’t had to care for one in 2 years. You walk into the room across and survey it. It has a bed with adjustable rails but the room looks bland. Maybe you should have insisted on a time frame.

You place some toddler necessities ,like pull ups, wipes, powder, and such, from the basement onto the dresser. Then taking some toys in the chest of Jack’s old room and placing them in a little basket for Sam's room. By the time you finish preparing the rooms you feel the exhaustion of the day weight on your body. You watch both the boys' rooms again before you lay boneless on the couch.

You lose yourself in thought. You have done this routine many times before, but something about this felt.. heavier. Different. While you have been doing this for a very very long time, even someone experienced like you had periods of anxiety for the child. In this case, you chalk it up to the lack of information, and even though you don't believe yourself right now, all you can do is hope that you are enough to help these two boys. Tomorrow, you have a lot of shopping to do. With or without the boys accompanying you. New clothes, books, toys. You are going to go all out like you usually do.

You fall asleep on the couch with these thoughts hovering over you. Underall the worries and excitement is hope. Hope that maybe this time you can keep them.

You woke up slowly to the sound of your phone ringing. For a moment you let it ring, burying your face in the pillows of the couch. That lasted all of 3 seconds before you remembered who is coming today. And to say you shot out of the couch was an understatement. You snatched your phone and fumbled around for the answer button.

“Good— AHEM. Good morning.” You greet, clearing the sleep out your throat.

“__________, Hi, I'm so sorry about the lack of communication.” It was Sandra. “I will come around 2 pm to discuss the placement.” There is serious exhaustion laced in her voice.

“Sandra, are you okay?” You whispered. Another blaring red flag is Sandra being anything but her normal cheerful and bubbly self, and with this job you have to be. You can count on one hand Sandra has been this way, tired and worn out, for the 9 years you’ve known her.

“I’m fine,” Sandra assured, but her voice wavered. “Just… It's been a long few days. I’ll explain more when I see you.”

You hesitated, feeling the weight in her tone. “Okay, Sandra. I’ll see you at two. Please get some rest if you can.”

“Thanks, ________. You’re a lifesaver, as always.”

The call ended with a soft click, leaving you standing in the quiet of your living room, phone still in hand. The knot of unease in your stomach tightened.

Two boys. Dean and Sam Winchester. Something about their situation clearly had Sandra running on fumes. You’ve seen tough cases before, but this one felt different, heavier, as if their names carried a weight you didn’t yet understand.

Shaking off the worry, you glanced at the clock. It was just past 8 a.m, That meant you had six hours before Sandra arrived, with a to-do list so long it made you inwardly groan.

It was then your stomach decided to remind you that you haven’t eaten since last night. You quickly made some pancakes and scarfed it down. After the meal you left immediately, there wasn’t time to do any dishes when you have a room to decorate. The usual routine kicked in. Grab essentials, plan for every possible need, and the small touches that might help the boys feel more at home.

By 10:30 a.m., your cart was full. You’d picked up toddler-friendly snacks, clothes in sizes that should fit a three-year-old and a seven-year-old, a set of books you hoped Dean would enjoy, and a stuffed moose for Sam. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

When you got back home, you unpacked the haul and happily put the finishing touches on their rooms. You arranged the moose on Sam’s bed, tucked a book about astronauts onto Dean’s pillow, and stood back to assess the rooms.

“Okay,” you murmured to yourself. “God. I am good.” You smile

It was just after 1 p.m when you finally were able to sit down. You tried to sip a glass of water to steady the bundle of nerves building in your stomach. It really wasn’t working. The thought of meeting the boys, seeing their faces, and learning their story made your heart skip a couple beats.

Would they trust you? Would you be able to give them the stable home they need? What if they grow to hate it here?

Doubts started to plague your mind. So by the time 2 p.m rolled around, you were pacing the living room and looking out the window every few minutes. When you heard Sandra’s car turn into your driveway, your stomach started to do flips.Sandra’s car was a shiny black Camaro. The car you have come to memorize when you got a new addition to your family. The car’s door opened and Sandra walked out,looking more tired than you’ve ever seen her. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and the dark circles under her eyes told you she hadn’t slept much, if at all since the first call.

And then you saw them.

Dean was the first to climb out of the car, his movements careful but confident. He was small for a seven-year-old, his dirty blonde hair sticking up at odd angles, as if he had been running his hands through it. His green eyes surveyed the driveway, the house, and finally, you, with wariness that made your heart hurt.

Sam followed, gripping a worn-out blanket in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He was tiny, with dark brown hair that curled slightly at the ends. It was longer than Deans, he had dark bangs that framed his small face perfectly. His cheeks were tear-streaked— he must’ve been crying, he clung to Dean’s side like a lifeline.

“Hi there,” you said gently, stepping onto the porch as carefully as you could manage. You didn’t want to scare them.

Dean didn’t respond, but his gaze sharpened, studying you like he was trying to figure out if you were a threat. Sam buried his face against Dean’s shoulder, his little body trembling.

Sandra gave you a tired smile. “_________,” she began, “these are the Winchester boys.”

You crouched down, keeping your voice soft and warm. “Hi, Dean. Hi, Sam. My name’s _________. It’s nice to meet you.”

Dean didn’t say anything, but his gaze hardened. Sam peeked out from where he shuffled behind Dean, his big brown eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Sandra knelt down, her voice low and soothing. “Sammy, it’s okay. Remember what I told you? ________ is really nice. You’re going to be safe here.”

Dean’s head snapped toward Sandra at the word safe, his expression unreadable.

“It’s okay,” you said, addressing both boys. “You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know you are very welcomed here, and I’m here to support you guys however I can.”

Sam clutched Dean’s side tighter, but Dean stepped forward, just a little. His green eyes locked onto yours, searching.

“Are you gonna keep us together?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. What have these two boys gone through for him to have to ask that?“Yes, Dean. I promise. You’ll stay together.” For extra measure “I made sure your rooms are right across from each other.” I reassured the child

Dean’s shoulders relaxed, just a fraction, and for the first time, you saw a flash of hope in his eyes.

Sandra stood, her eyes glassy. “Let’s get inside. We have a lot to talk about.”

You nodded, holding the door open as they walked in slowly. Taking in the whole scene.

The moment they were inside, you felt the shift. Dean's eyes scanned the big living room, taking in every detail as though he needed to memorize the space. He studied the plants in the corner, the small basket with cars in the play area, and paid special attention to the exits. The windows and the front and back door. All while Sam clung to Dean’s side, the blanket he had in his hand dragging on the floor. You shut the door behind them trying to make everything feel as calm and welcoming as possible at the moment.

"Want a snack?" you asked softly, crouching at the knees to be level with them. "I have some juice boxes and animal crackers in the kitchen."

Sam looked up at Dean for some brotherly reassurance. Dean looked at Sandra, who nodded reassuringly. Then he turned to you and gave you a small, timid nod.

"Terrific," you said, still as light. "Come on. Get you two settled." Your heart swells with affection when they both follow you to the kitchen immediately.

You led them into the kitchen, where you'd already set out some snacks on the table. Sam climbed into one of the chairs, blanket still firmly in hand, while Dean hovered near him protectively.

You frowned a little in thought. You wanted Dean to sit too but it didn't look like he was leaving Sam’s side anytime soon. You take another chair and slide it right next to Sam. The boys look at you with a face of confusion. Even Sandra quirked a thin eyebrow in your direction. You look at Dean and smile as you pat the seat. He stares at first. Hesitant to move from Sam’s side. But after a couple seconds, he sat in the chair. His eyes flick to you once, no longer hardened or glaring. You took it as a thank you and felt yourself beem.

Sandra sat across from them, her exhaustion more visible now that she wasn't standing. "Thank you for this," she said quietly, her voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded, offering her a small smile. “It’s what I’m here for. We’ll make it work.”

Sandra exhaled deeply, and for a moment, she looked like she might have started to cry. That made you straighten up a little more. But then she squared her shoulders and gave her full attention to the two boys sitting in the chairs. “Okay let’s talk about what’s happening.”

Dean stiffened, his small hands curling into fists on the table. Sam leaned closer to him, as if seeking protection.

Sandra kept her voice soft. "You're going to stay here with ________ for a little while. She's going to take care of you, and you'll have your own rooms, toys, everything you need. You're safe here."

Dean's jaw tightened, and he finally spoke. "What about Dad?"

Sandra froze, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. You stepped in, sensing her hesitation.

Right now, your dad can't be with you," I said softly. "But Sandra and I are here to make sure you're okay. That's what matters most."

Dean's green eyes smoldered with a combination of anger and fear. "He'll come back for us. He always does.” he said confidently.

You exchanged a look with Sandra, her face masked in grief she carefully kept contained. "Of course," you whispered. "Until then, you'll be here together and I'll make it as close to your home as I can."

Dean said nothing, though the slope of his shoulders gave the feeling he would yield to it all—for the time being, at least.

Sandra cleared her throat and stood. "I'll let you all get settled. There's a lot in their file to go over, but we will take it one step at a time. I'll check in on you both tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," you said, walking her to the door. "Drive safe, Sandra. And get some rest."

She nodded, her eyes lingering on the boys for a moment before she left.

As you walked back into the kitchen, Sam was nibbling at a cracker, his blanket tucked under his chin. Dean hadn't even snatched a snack, and watched you warily.

"How about a little tour?" you offered, trying to lighten things up. "I can show you your rooms."

Sam lifted a little, but Dean narrowed his eyes. "We'll share a room."

You hesitated. "You can if you want, but you each have your own room right now. They're right next to each other."

Dean looked at Sam, who nodded solemnly, as though the two of them had a whole conversation in that one glance. "We'll share," Dean repeated firmly.

"Okay," you said, adjusting easily. "Let's go check them out. You can decide how you want to set things up.

You led them upstairs, showing them the rooms. Sam's room was filled with soft blues and greens, the stuffed moose proudly sitting on his bed. His drawer was a dark brown and matched the small basket with toys. Dean's room was a little more grown-up with space-themed bedding, books carefully aligned on the nightstand. An astronaut book laid in the middle of his small bed.

Dean walked into Sam's room first, eyeing everything in it before giving a slight nod. "This one," he said, his tone bringing no argument.

Sam beamed, running to the bed and grabbing the stuffed moose. "Look, Dean!" Sam was absolutely enamored by the small brown moose. He shoved it in Dean’s face as he excitedly babbled to him in a string on nonsensical words.

Dean didn't say anything, didn’t even push him away, but his mouth curled up ever so slightly at the corners.

"Alright," you said, fighting a smile. "We'll get an extra mattress in here so you can both stay together. How's that?"

Dean nodded once, and Sam scrambled onto the bed, clutching his new toy tightly.

Standing there in the doorway and watching them, a resolution washed over you. It would be some time, patience, and much love, but you were going to see to it that these boys did get the safe and stable home they deserved. No matter what.

[callsign-rogueone]

stay

fwb!Liam Mairi x gn!reader words: 1.9k 🏷: no book spoilers. gender neutral reader. mentions of sex but it's purposely left vague, though it's implied that Liam does most of the work there. a bit of miscommunication (because all dragon riders are allergic to talking about their feelings), both of you are in love but neither of you think that the other person wants a relationship, this is the tipping point, Liam is such a cutie baby I love him sm, soft happy ending <3

Liam Mairi is a perfect gentleman, which of course, makes him an excellent lay. He always makes sure that you’re satisfied before he is, always gentle with you and always asking for consent, even if it’s something you’ve done before.

You’d asked him about that once, curious.

“Just because it was okay once doesn’t mean it’s always okay,” he’d answered, a little bashfully. “I’d never want to make you uncomfortable.”

You are never, ever uncomfortable with him. Quite the opposite, actually. He manages to liquefy you every time, to drain every drop of stress from your body and leave you in a soft heap on his mattress, to be scooped up into his lap and molded into a real person again by the gentle pressure of his arms around you, his hand stroking your hair while he murmurs soft assurances that you’re safe and tells you how pretty you are.

Two nights a week, he takes you apart just to put you back together again, making you whole — but it never lasts until morning. Like the fairy tales you'd read as a child — at the stroke of midnight, the magic fades. Only instead of a princess turning back into a housemaid, you go from feeling like the person he treasures most in the world to a complete stranger.

That much isn’t his fault.

You’re in too deep, and you know it. You’ve been over your head for more than a month now — since the first time you hooked up. You’d never felt that good in your life. But for some stupid reason that you can’t even name, after you’d come back down to earth, you decided that you weren’t going to spend the night, that you couldn’t. 

And so you never have. You’ve hooked up precisely sixteen times over the last two months, sometimes in your room, sometimes in his, one time in the showers; that had certainly been an experience. But never once have you fallen asleep together.

That’s the one part of your dynamic that you’d never talked about. Everything else required semi-detailed conversations about consent, boundaries, being exclusive (neither of you ever sleep with anyone else, even though you’ve agreed that you’re not exclusive), but you’ve never discussed staying the night. After your vanishing act on night one, he’d assumed that you would never want to stay the night, and that you wouldn’t want him to stay either.

So here you are again, wrapped up in his arms, planning your escape, as if there’s anything you could possibly want more than to remain like this forever. 

But it’s not about what you want. Life is never about what you want.

You start to get up to look for your clothes, but he wraps a strong arm around your hips, pulling you back against his chest and nuzzling his nose into your neck with a sleepy whine. “Don’t go yet.”

You laugh softly. “Fine, I’ll stay.”

You feel him still beside you, loosening his grip. “You don’t have to,” he adds quickly. “I understand if you want to leave.”

You roll over, turning to face him. He’s absolutely adorable — hair mussed, cheeks pink with embarrassment as he realizes that he’s implicated himself here, that he’s admitted that he wants you to stay, because he wants more than you’ve been willing to give him.

You’re not supposed to stay. That’s the whole point of friends with benefits. It’s supposed to be strictly transactional — a body for a body, pleasure for pleasure, nothing more. Take what you need and leave. 

You’re terrible at this whole thing, both of you. 

You’re not supposed to cuddle after, but Liam is too sweet to just abandon you immediately after a roll in the sheets. He always makes sure you’re okay, lets you rest your body against the soft muscle of his chest for a while, until he’s sure that you’re in a good headspace again. But what’s an appropriate amount of aftercare for two people who aren’t in love?

And you definitely aren’t supposed to stay the night.

That’s been the one thing that you do correctly every time. You always duck out after you’ve both caught your breath and made a shameful amount of eye contact, looking at each other, memorizing them — somehow that always feels so much more intimate than the actual sex.

His eyes are bottomless oceans that you’ve been treading water in, but you don’t know how much longer you can go on like this, with no land in sight.

He’s always worried when you leave. To be fair, it isn’t very safe out in the dorm hallways, especially late at night, but in an effort to keep this casual, to keep yourself from drowning, you’d reassured him that you’re both trained fighters, your rooms only are a minute’s walk apart, lit by mage light, and he can see danger coming from a literal mile away with his signet. You’ll both be fine.

And so, whoever came over is the first to leave, getting dressed quietly and heading out with as few words as possible, slipping down the hallway back to their own room, where they’ll shower and get ready for bed, thinking about the other person all the while.

Sometimes, when it’s your bed you’re using, you’ll pretend to be asleep until he leaves — you don’t do goodbyes, because they hurt too much. And in this death trap of a school, saying goodbye to anyone feels like jinxing it, finalizing the end of your relationship and giving Malek permission to take you away forever. You’ve always been a little superstitious like that. 

You aren’t great at the friends part either. You don’t interact much during the day. You’re friendly, sure, but you aren’t friends. You get along well whenever you’re grouped up for anything, offering each other a smile and a small wave when your paths cross, but that’s the extent of it.

You can’t help but smile every time you look at him. That should have been a warning sign. 

“I do want to stay,” you whisper after what feels like an eternity, looking up into those beautiful blue eyes.

“Okay,” he says shyly. 

You cuddle deeper into his side, tucking your head into his neck and closing your eyes, because that’s easier than talking. 

Laying with him has always been easy. You fit together like puzzle pieces, interlocking tightly but not too tightly. Always comfortable, never forced.

He wraps his arms around you again, laying a kiss to the top of your head. “Get some sleep,” he encourages.

You wake to bright sunlight hitting your face, and you whine in complaint, turning your head away from the window — into the firm muscle of Liam’s chest.

Oh, shit. Had you fallen asleep on him, trapping him here, and he was too nice to disturb you, to wake you up and kick you out?

No, you remember, this was mutual. You’d done the usual cuddling-and-affirmations thing and then you’d fallen down that slippery slope, somehow agreeing to spend the night.

It’s been years since you last slept a full eight hours straight — you don’t really do that anymore. But you don’t remember waking up in the middle of the night, either. Is he awake? Maybe you can slip away without waking him if you’re quiet and you…

“Morning,” he greets, his voice raspy and low with sleep. 

Holy shit, that’s hot. You want to hear that first thing in the morning, every morning.

“Morning,” you respond shyly, as if you aren’t both almost completely naked in his bed. 

“You sleep okay? Xaden says I snore, but I don’t believe him.”

“Yeah, I… I slept well. I didn’t hear any snoring. I was totally out.”

“Good.”

Another awkward pause. Time to be brave. 

“Liam?” you ask softly, gazing across his shoulders at the beginning of his relic, where it curls over his collarbone. “I don’t know a better way to ask this, but… what are we?”

“What do you want us to be?” he asks carefully. He’s loosened his grip on you again, like he did last night. He’s prepared to rip the bandage off. You should be, too.

You should be a lot of things. 

“I asked first,” you say, like a child. 

You close your eyes, taking mental inventory of where you’d scattered your clothes last night, and which pieces you can go without if you have to sprint down the hallway to the safety of your own room, should he not tell you what you need to hear.

He takes a breath before he responds — a deep one, that makes your body rise and fall with his. “Last I checked, we’re friends with benefits, but if you wanted to… we could be more than that. Life’s too short to not chase what you want.”

“Is that what you want? More?” you ask in a whisper.

“It is. It has been for a long time now. I thought I was okay with just being fuck buddies, but I care about you, deeply, and I want to be with you all the time — not just in this room, naked.”

You laugh, holding him a little tighter. “I do very much enjoy being in this room with you, naked. But I’d also like to be able to hold your hand in the hallways and go on dates and whatever couples are supposed to do.”

“Yeah?” he asks softly.

You scoot up to be at eye level with him. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he says, swallowing — his eyes not leaving yours.

“You getting all shy on me now, Mairi?” you ask, boldened by the blush on his cheeks. “You certainly weren’t last night.”

He reddens further. “I’m just trying to decide if this is real, or if I’m still dreaming,” he says softly.

That’s damned adorable. 

“How about I kiss you to check? That always seems to wake people up in fairy tales.”

“That would be nice.”

“Okay then.”

You lean down, nudging your nose against his for a moment before you lean in, connecting your lips in a lazy kiss.

He sighs softly, bringing a hand up to rest on your back, holding you in place.

You pull back for air after a moment, but keep your foreheads pressed together. “What do you think?” you ask. “Still dreaming?”

“No,” he answers, a little breathless. “Definitely not dreaming.”

“Good.”

Another quiet moment — a comfortable one, this time.

“It’s Saturday,” he says. “We could sleep until noon if we wanted.”

“Start making up for all the times we didn’t actually sleep together.”

He laughs, a warm, low sound like summer thunder from miles away. “Sounds like a plan, then.”

You settle back down against him, fitting yourself under his arm. He pulls you a bit closer, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 

Talking feels safer now than it did before, when you were both constantly worrying that anything you said would expose the feelings that you weren’t supposed to have. 

You trace your fingers over the smoky pattern winding up his forearm, speaking softly. “I know you must have bad feelings about it, but I’ve always thought it was beautiful.”

“Not all bad,” he says after a moment. “It’s the last piece I have of my mom. She was the one who made the runes that marked us all. They’re supposed to protect us, but I’m not really sure how. I never got to ask.”

“I’m so sorry,” you say quietly, your fingertips stilling.

“I never know how to respond when people say that,” he admits.

“You don’t have to say anything at all,” you tell him, your eyes drifting shut. “We’re good at that.”

He rubs a hand up and down your back gently. “Yeah. We are.”