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writing-mlm · 2 days ago

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Is it real?

Summary: It’s thanksgiving, current plan: ignore your family, backup plan: stay for Alfred’s left overs. Pairing: Damian Wayne x Male reader Wc: 7.1k A/n: I saw comments asking for part 2 so… rushed this out bc Thanksgiving is like… two(??) days away Warning: mentions of homophobic family but they’re silent the whole time, nothing negative is really just it’s just the feeling of knowing that they are

Damian had always known he liked men, there wasn’t one defining moment in his youth where it clicked. He didn’t watch some movie and fall in love with the lead actor, he didn’t have a love-at-first-sight moment that made everything make sense. It’s just something that’s always been. But falling for you had been something that had been gradual.

At first, you were just some intern with a loud laugh and clearly hung out with not the best people. He’d seen you in the hallway of Gotham University, which was a surprise considering how large the campus is and he grew a little suspicious. He’s Robin, of course, he’s going to be suspicious of a coincidence.

But falling for you had been incredibly easy when he looked back at it. He just remembers that one random night, after work and school, on your way back from patrol where he looked at you as you sang along (badly, he’d tease you and you’d say it was on purpose) to your patrolling playlist. It was this warm feeling that washed over him, his stomach tossed up and he was thankful that he got to spend his days next to you. It made him realize he’d been falling for a while now and in that moment, it all just felt right.

Truly Damian had never expected love to be that simple. He had expected it to be something akin to trials of battle. Something he had to defend like he defended himself. How grateful he is that he was wrong about something.

He considers himself lucky in that regard.

He looks at you as the two of you sit in the garden, looking at the fallen white snow cloaking the nearly barren bushes. The cold is nipping at his nose and it’s starting to snow again. His pants are wet and cold, his hands tense with what he thinks are the early signs of frostbite. But you look lovely, you look like everything he wants and more.

A part of him wonders if he deserves this. If his happy ending is something he has been able to get; if he’s atoned for his past. If the blood he’d split has finally dried and he’s able to truly move along. But he tries not to remind himself about his past, focusing on his present or whatever stupid thing Grayson always preaches about.

Sighing, he taps the cold bench with his knuckles before standing up.

“I believe father should be done talking with your family,” He says and you hum, following after him. You walk hand in hand, your bodies begging for warmth. He notes the recent footprints that aren’t his or yours and figures it was Diana. She’d been wearing kitten heels and that’s the print of them. It makes him smile, figuring she probably got the hint.

He glances at you as the two of you walk in tandem; he’s known about your family issues for a while. Sworn to secrecy because you didn’t want the others to pity you or try to somehow make up for your family’s shortcomings. You knew his family; you knew how much they liked you and how if they knew the truth, how your family wouldn’t even be allowed to step foot inside.

He doesn’t know why, honestly he’s tried to imagine it, but you still love them. You still answer their texts, you still wish them a happy birthday even though they rarely do the same, and you haven’t spoken truly ill of them to anyone but him.

You believed you never did anything remarkable; born to live in the middle child’s role for the rest of your life and he cannot imagine that.

Gotham University is comparable to Ivy League in almost every regard. You managed to be one of his father's best interns long before you’d gotten your powers. You had enough self-preservation and drive to uproot your entire life, growing used to the harsh environment of Gotham alone. You’ve been beaten and broken enough times to make a grown man quit and yet, you put on the suit night after night, fighting crime with a joke and a smile. You had literally no one in your corner for years and yet he watches as you smile at the snow falling on your nose.

He knows you’re incredibly strong and he wishes nothing but the best for you; which is why he’ll proudly wear your relationship on his sleeve.

You look at him, feeling his intense gaze and he grins, kissing you again.

“You okay?” You ask when he pulls away. He nods, looking back towards the manor as you exit the maze.

“I’m happy I can kiss you freely.” Is all he says and you playfully roll your eyes. Your siblings are waiting on the porch while Damian’s siblings and further in the snow, talking using sign language when Cassandra waves you both over.

“We have a plan,” She says. “We are going to act like I can’t speak. Only sign language with your family,” They do that every time the family is introduced to someone new, kept it up with Bernard for nearly a year before someone broke. You managed about two months but that’s only because you accidentally walked into a very heated conversation between her and Jason about ballet plays.

“I agree.” Damian nods.

“It’s only natural.” You agree.

“Yo,” Jason suddenly says while smacking your arm. “Is your stepmother the mom of your sister?” You cringe when you think about it and the weird family drama around them.

“No, she’s an affair baby,” You start and scratch your cheek. “She’s my mom's god-sister's daughter. Her and my dad didn’t date, though. It’s complicated.”

“Oh, okay,” Steph sighs. “Because they look so similar.”

“Oh, yeah. They’re cousins.”

“Huh?” They all blink and you glance at Damian. He shakes his head; he’s not going to explain this mess.

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m going to need a full explanation,” Tim shakes his head, arms crossed over his chest while you inhale.

“Okay, her mother is Lupe. Lupe and my dad slept together for about five years before they had my sister. My mom found out because Lupe’s mother told her because she thought my dad would ‘step up’ and marry Lupe; spoiler, he didn’t. My dad's wife is Lupe’s older sister's daughter.” You explain, using your fingers to keep track of people.

“Okay,” Cass nods. “So, how old is everyone and when did they divorce?”

“My sister, Nadia, is twenty-seven, Pat is twenty-four, Diana is eighteen, and Lupe is ten. My parents divorced before Lupe was born.”

“She has her mother's name?” Jason gasps, holding back a laugh.

“Dad tried to change it; but you need both signatures. Everyone just calls her Lulu. My mom doesn’t acknowledge her.”

“Are we done here?” Damian sighs.

“Yes, you can go back to kissing your boyfriend,” Tim rolls his eyes while Jason just shakes his head; still in disbelief that Damian had decided on his own that was in a relationship. He feels like he’s done that in another universe, too.

“So,” Steph starts just before the two of you can walk away. “When’s your anniversary? Or do you celebrate both of them?” She teases and the others laugh.

“I’m not answering that,” He grumbles and grabs your hand, pulling you away.

On the porch, he looks at Nadia and her roommate. They’re holding pinkies, testing the waters while your fingers haven’t left Damian’s in nearly twenty minutes. He feels bad for them; despite his upbringing and hardships, he can confidently say that neither side of his family is homophobic. Not even in the slightest; he’s heard about Ra’s and Bruce’s escapades— although Bruce thankfully reassured him that his grandfather was not on his vast list of people he’d taken to bed.

He goes to remove his hand, fearing you wouldn’t want your family to know but you squeeze his hand, keeping his hand firmly pressed against your skin. He looks at you and you offer a smile, guiding him to a porch bench while you wait for Bruce to let everyone back inside.

He blinks, holding back a smile while you pull out your phone with your free hand. You’re playing some tedious game about placing blocks that he finds himself captivated in. It’s as if he can see your thinking in real time; understanding how your brain works.

“So,” Nadia’s roommate— girlfriend, he corrects himself, Kendall, starts. Her voice feels almost surreal in the soft silence that fills the backyard. He’d nearly forgotten you weren’t alone. Nearly. “Are you two…”

“Dating?” You ask, voice carrying a sort of understanding that Kendall smiles at. She nods and you smile, nudging Damian’s shoulder with your own. “Yeah, we are.”

“Cool,” She says, eyes darting to Nadia’s who just looks down.

“Gross,” Pat says, eyes flickering to Damian’s. “You can do better.” Rolling your eyes, you return to your phone.

“There is no such thing,” Damian answers and you pause, your thumb-stopping as you’re about to place a block. “Your brother is the best thing to happen to me.” Smiling, you lock your phone but pretend you’re still using it. Pat rolls his eyes but he doesn’t say anything further.

From what you’ve told Damian he knows that Pat is an envious man. Envious that Nadia had won the lottery, envious Diana got your parent's love and affection, envious that you were able to escape the suffocating clutches of your parents when no one else could.

He feels bad for Pat. He wanted to be an elementary school teacher but your parents had pushed for a ‘more respectable’ degree. You said after that he lost his spark. Became a shell of himself; not that you liked him before all that. He wasn’t a good brother to you, always thought you were too childish. Too head in the clouds to do anything. It was strange, considering the close ages between the two of you and you remember a time the two of you were close.

The door opens and Damian looks over at his father as he fixes his jacket. His neck is tight but he forces himself to relax and he smiles. It’s the smile he puts on for a crowd, during gala’s, during meetings; whenever he has to put on his Brucie Wayne persona. Because anyone who knew Bruce, really knew him, knew his smile was different.

“Come on, children.” He says, stepping aside as Tim rushes in.

“He’s too anemic to be in the cold for so long,” Jason snickers, stepping in after Tim.

Damian has you walk inside first, watching as his fathers eyes track you with a solemn look. It’s the look he had when you opened up about your family and he looks forward, staring at the back of your head as you enter the room for the third time that day.

Your step-mother is no longer on your father's lap, she’s sat next to him and settles with just holding his hand. Your mother is opposite to them, her expression— Damian hates to admit it, he’s sorry for even making the connection in his head— is nearly identical to yours when you’re annoyed. Your father— again, really, he’s sorry for the connection— has the traits too. It’s the eyebrows and nose flare with your mother, the eyes and lip curl with your father.

He wonders if you realize it and that’s why you don’t like getting upset. The reason why you try to avoid conflict if possible.

Lupe climbs onto your fathers lap, the coldness has only made her more tired and he kisses her head, providing the warmth you’d never gotten from him.

Damian looks at you as you’re holding a recording device between your fingers; a conflicted expression clear on your face before Bruce slyly takes it and crushes it under his finger.

“Bruce-!” You gasp but he shakes his head, hand on your shoulder. “Okay,”

The two of you take your seats again, your head naturally finding a home on his shoulder while his arm wraps around your shoulder; tracing shapes into your arm absentmindedly.

Diana scowls as she enters the room; the two of you sit in the middle because she just knows- oh, she knows you’re doing this on purpose. You’re jealous of her so this is your revenge, you’ve always done things like this. Getting better grades, turning her friends against her (she doesn’t know how for that one yet, despite it being nearly six years ago), countless others and now this. You can’t just be happy for her.

You ignore her, still playing that damn game that Damian doesn’t know why you play.

For some strange reason, Damian remembers back to when you learned Wonder Woman’s identity. How your face had dropped and how he snickered when you muttered; ‘that’s an unfortunate name’ that Diana had raised an eyebrow to. You had quickly apologized, of course, later recounting how embarrassing it was when you were alone with Damian.

You still call her Ms. Prince, though.

His eyes flicker to Nadia and Kendall; Nadia is pressed in between your mother and Kendall, her leg bouncing while Kendall seems almost unfazed being between Nadia and Jason.

He’s probably wondering when the food is going to be done; he’s been preparing for this day. Literally; him and Tim and sometimes even Duke will take on extra patrol shifts the day before and not eat the day of Thanksgiving just to make sure they have enough room in their stomach for the feast Alfred prepares.

While Damian is a little sad that Duke wasn’t able to make it this year, he’s glad he’s able to spend it with his family this year. He says they’re getting better, it’s taken several years but the Joker venom is weaning off of them. He can tell and the doctors confirmed it. They’re good enough that he can have an actual meal with them again.

You check the time; five-sixteen, and almost sigh. Dinner always starts at eight on the dot and man, you’re hungry. Alfred doesn’t let anyone in the kitchen for a nibble on anything; just a glass of water before he kicks them out.

Maybe if you texted Damian he could sneak out and bring some food for the two of you.

“No,” He whispers when you’re hovering over your texts, debating typing it out. Grumbling, you put your phone down and look around.

There’s not much going on, a couple of conversations have broken out but nothing worthy of note. Bruce is almost guarding the door with the way he’s placed his seat, facing over everyone. You wonder what he talked about; you’re not stupid, you know it’s about you, but you want to know exactly what was said. It’s stupid but you worry that Bruce is tired of you, maybe he agrees with your parents that you’re just that kid. Nothing special.

Damian feels your pulse when his hand travels to run across your neck, his fingers ghosting from your elbow up and you shudder. His eyebrows furrow when he feels the beating and he discreetly checks on you, your eyes darting about the carpet as your worry vein starts to show on your forehead.

“Father,” Damian says and Bruce looks over, a quiet hm of acknowledgment coming from the man. “Can we be excused?”

“Of course, Damian,” He nods as a thank you and taps your back, beckoning you up from the couch and you follow him out of the room.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks once you’re a couple of steps away from the room. You shrug, fingernails digging into the rubber phone case. He hates that; hates when you don’t give him a verbal response because how is he supposed to help? He’s great at reading body language, yes, of course he is, but he wants you to talk.

“You’re worried about something,” He says as you’re traveling up the large staircase. The old wood creaks under your footsteps, the banister sharing it when your hand presses down against it.

“Does Bruce like me?” You ask and he blinks over at you.

“My father adores you. He’d adopt you if he could,” He reassures with ease and you smile. “You’re worried about what he spoke to your family about?” Nodding, he looks up the stairs and thinks for a moment.

“I’m going to be honest with you; I have a couple of theories myself. The most likely one is that father invited them here on purpose; he wants to know them because he realized at the tree that your family doesn’t treat you well. He probably played the aloof character he often does and sang your well-deserved praises, watching as your parents squirmed.”

“You really think that?”

“I’d never lie to you,” He promises, kissing your knuckles. “Do you want to take a nap?”

“Yes, please,”

—

Damian had stayed awake at his desk while you napped on his bed, curled up on his blankets and his pillows, Titus happily sharing the space with you. He hates to admit it, but he definitely watched you as you slept; simply admiring you.

The others had checked on the two of you periodically, finding Damian was more often than not simply sitting in the silence of the room. Jason wanted to make a joke, something about day one relationship bliss but he held his tongue, he didn’t know why. Don’t ask him. He totally should’ve made the joke.

When you woke up, he put his book down and waited for you to say something.

“Is the food done?” He laughs and checks his phone. Two minutes until eight.

“It should be once we head downstairs,” You smile this sleepy smile, face still pressed into his pillow and he swears his heart swells. With a quick fixing of your clothes and hair, the two of you head downstairs as Bruce is heading up.

“Good,” He breathes. “I was on my way to get the two of you.” He waits for the two of you to walk past before heading back down himself. Jason and Dick are helping bring the food into the large dining room. Two trays of food in each of their arms while Alfred carts in more trays. You can smell the food from the bottom of the stairs and you’re so glad Damian forced you to go.

You can imagine the leftovers now.

Bruce sits at the head of the table as he’s always had, Damian pulls out a chair, one away from the corner seat where he’d be sitting, and nods with his eyes for you to sit.

“He’s such a gentleman,” Tim cooes from across from you.

“Just because you were raised without class, Drake doesn’t mean the rest of us were.” Damian quickly replies. Bruce wants to smile; he’ll never admit he loves his children’s banter, but he puts on his old man's tired face to save Damian the embarrassment of knowing his father finds his actions cute.

Cassandra takes the seat across from Damian while you find Kori next to you. Dick is next to her, but Mar’i is asleep in a mobile bassinet between the two of them. They promise she’s a heavy sleeper but everyone is ever aware of their volume as she sleeps.

You wonder why more partners aren’t at the dinner. Jason usually invites at least one of the Outlaws, the Kents are almost always there, and maybe one or two of Dick’s Titans show up. You were hoping at least Jon would be there; it’s been a while since you’ve seen him.

Stephanie settles next to Tim, followed by Jason. He likes to be as far as he can from Bruce without being too far because… Bruce and Jason's things.

You don’t care where your family sits, honestly you try to block them out. Between your parents, siblings, aunt, and cousins (plus Kendall and your father's wife), you can’t bring yourself to care.

The last of the food is set and Alfred takes the seat at the other end of the table. Head of household go on the ends, is what Damian had told you when you first questioned it.

“Wanna say what we’re grateful for?” Dick grins the same way he does every single Thanksgiving that the others mouth the words as he’s saying it.

“Sure,” Bruce nods, his eyes scanning over the table. “I suppose I’ll start, then.”

“I’m thankful for my children finding happiness,” He smiles. “Wherever that may be.” He adds, looking at Jason.

“Oh, I need a drink,” Jason mutters and grabs his glass, pouring whiskey out from his flask.

It’s Cassandra’s turn and she looks around before signing

‘I’m thankful for ballet.’ Everyone replies in sign, not because they actually want to reply, but because it’s funny. You catch your family's embarrassed glances at each other when they realize they have no idea what she said and no one is willing to translate for them.

Tim doesn’t realize it’s his turn and returns to staring at his lap, trying to hide the fact that he’s working. Stephanie nudges him and he looks up, not even embarrassed that he’s been caught.

“I’m thankful for the internet in the dining room.”

“I’m thankful for…” Stephanie trails. “Cassandra.”

“I’m thankful for alcohol,” Jason says as he takes another large gulp. He wanted to say guns, he always says guns, but you guess Bruce had told him not to this year.

Kendall is next, her eyes flicker to you for a brief moment as she thinks.

“I’m thankful that I have someone to celebrate with,” Is what she settles on before it’s Nadia’s turn.

“I’m thankful for Kendall,” She smiles, her voice shaking as she says it. Kendall smiles down at the table, hiding her pink face. It continues on, your cousins are thankful for Kai Cenat, your brother says some corporate answer you forgot immediately after, Lupe says her iPad, your father says his wife, his wife says him, your mother said her husband, her husband said her, your aunt said her kids, and then it’s Diana’s turn.

“I’m thankful that Mr. Wayne opened his doors to us,” She says in this sickly sweet voice that makes you inhale and hold your tongue. Thankfully that Kori’s hair mostly blocks you from the others, you shake Damian’s shoulder and he stifles a laugh.

The married couple says sappy married couple answers and suddenly it’s your turn.

“I’m thankful that I have all of my organs,”

“You’re still on that?” Tim glares, looking up from his laptop and you laugh, the others joining in. “It happened one—“

“Kids,” Bruce says and Tim looks back down at his laptop. He looks at you and you sigh.

“I’m thankful for the blue— I’m thankful for the food Alfred cooked so tirelessly,” You say and the family nods to that, even Tim.

“I’m thankful for (Y/n),” Damian says and Jason cheers when Dick slides him a twenty. “You’re childish.”

“And you’re predictable,” He sings, holding up the crisp twenty-dollar bill. Damian goes to say something but Alfred clears his throat and anything he was going to say dies before it reaches his tongue.

“I’m thankful for another year with all of you,” Alfred smiles fondly at everyone, even you.

“Dig in.” Getting food is nearly a free-for-all hell. It’s why Alfred always makes enough that you don’t need to reach too far to get your favorite foods. You pile food onto your plate, fighting Tim with the spoon and ever aware of your family’s bewildered expressions.

It’s strange for them to see; you’re so happy here. Clearly, in your time in Gotham, you’ve been integrated into the family, settling nicely in their bunch. You’re laughing with Jason about something they don’t get, sharing a forkful of food with Damian because he wanted you to try the tofu ham he loves so dearly. You never liked tofu before, your mother tried once, but you love their tofu ham.

You have inside jokes with them, even with Bruce. Bruce asks about your classes and they realize they can’t name a single class you take; they don’t even know your major.

But somehow, someway, it’s your fault. You don’t call enough, you don’t text enough, you don’t come home. It’s not because of them; they’ve done nothing wrong.

And you know that’s what they think.

With the initial food free-for-all done, you settle into nice conversations that often have breaks of silence because you’re talking to Cassandra. It’s also the first time Bruce participates in the ongoing gag.

“No, you nearly killed Jerry on his first Thanksgiving,” Damian insists to Jason. “You’re the reason we didn’t have a Turkey for four years.”

“I’m not the one who tried to kill me.”

“Pretty sure you have,” Tim comments, and Jason snorts before covering his face.

“We agreed to no more suicide jokes,” Bruce lazily reminded.

“Was it ever a joke…?” You test the waters and he sighs, holding his face while the others laugh.

“That’s so rude, (Y/n)!” Diana shouts and everyone goes silent. Dead silent. “Don’t joke about suicide!” The others glance at her, unsure of what to do. You blink, pushing food into your mouth and slowly chew.

“It’s harmless banter between friends and siblings,” Damian says. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Oh…” She settles in her seat. “I guess,”

“Anyway,” Stephanie looks away from her, giving you a glance that says ‘seriously, you’re related?’ and you just shrug. “Did Jason try to kill Jerry?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Okay, let’s ask Alfred.” Alfred looks up from his plate, wiping a napkin along his mouth with wide eyes when he sees the children have turned to him for his verdict.

“Oh, well. That was so long ago, I suppose I’ve forgotten what’s happened.”

“Nonsense Pennyworth; your memory is sharp. No need to spare Todd’s feelings.”

“I know the demon spawn can be a bear but you can tell the truth, Alfred.”

Bruce sighs because he knows this topic will never end.

“It wasn’t him.” Bruce blurts before covering his mouth with a napkin. Alfred gives him a thankful look but Damian slowly turns to look at Bruce.

“What?” Damian leans over, eyes wide as he stares at his father. “Who was it, father?”

“It was…” He sighs. “Me.”

Shouting erupts at the table, you and Cassandra sit, shell-shocked as years of a feud had been for nothing— something Bruce could’ve stopped long ago.

‘Wasn’t it you?’ You ask and she nods, serving herself more mashed potatoes. You snicker, reaching over to finish Damian’s glass of wine. He takes the last sip of his father's glass, angrily downing it because the shouting has made his throat dry.

“I cannot believe you let Todd take the blame,” Damian breathes as he settles down. “It’s been nearly ten years, father!”

“Oh heavens,” Alfred shakes his head. “I shall bring out more wine.”

“Bourbon, please, Alfred.” Bruce and Jason grumble.

“Having fun?” Tim grins over at your family. The bunch are shocked; well your cousins are eating this up and Lupe is still playing on her iPad. You didn’t expect anything less from them if you’re being truthful.

“You have a… lively family,” Your father’s wife smiles.

“Hopefully you’ll marry into it, right?” Tim continues to egg them on. “Then we’ll be one big happy family.” He winks at your mother who gawks.

“Yup,” You nod, much to Damian’s shock. “One big, gay, happy wedding, right, Dames.” He quickly collects himself and nods.

“Honeymoon to whatever island you want; after our destination wedding. I’m thinking Istanbul or Cape Town, South Africa.”

“Mhmm, and then we’ll get a big mansion somewhere.”

“A farm, too.”

“That sounds nice,” Kori agrees.

“You’ll be my maid of honor, of course.”

“And Dick will be my best man.”

“He’ll be mine.” You disagree, turning to Damian.

“You cannot have both!”

“Fine, I’m taking Casandra.”

“No! She’ll be my maid of honor. Why don’t you pick Drake or something?”

“I’m busy that day,” Tim responds and Damian squints. “I might be able to squeeze you in.” Tim concedes.

“I’m taking Jon, then.”

“Oh my god,” Bruce puts his head in his hands as Alfred pours him a glass of bourbon. He downs it and Alfred quickly pours another glass. “There won’t be a marriage until you’ve finished college.”

“I didn’t know you moved that fast,” Jason teases.

“It’s not fast if I’m sure he’s the love of my life.”

You pause, staring down at your glass as the room falls silent.

Honestly, this is moving… fast. You’ve never been in love, at least you don’t think you have. You’ve never really known love; your father cheated for five years, your mother married your father's (now former) boss out of spite, your father is currently married to someone the same age as his eldest daughter, and your sister was in a hidden relationship.

Your girlfriends have been nice. You liked them enough, they weren’t bad in any way. You enjoyed being with them but you wouldn’t say you’ve ever loved any of them.

With Damian, you aren’t sure if what you’re feeling is love. Maybe puppy love but… love. You aren’t sure about that; you’d been joking about the marriage stuff. It was a joke to get your family uncomfortable. You weren’t even sure you wanted to get married! Let alone to Damian.

The relationship was literal hours long at this point— sure longer in Damian’s eyes but he’s clearly had romantic feelings for you for longer than you’ve had them for him. Maybe you hadn’t realized before, sure, yes, that’s entirely possible. But you don’t love him just yet.

“I’m gonna… use the bathroom…” Diana excuses herself, her kitten heels clicking against the freshly polished floor.

Your ears are ringing as Damian continues his conversations like normal. You glance around, finding Tim’s eyes in the chaos that’s your current state. He raises his eyebrows and you must’ve made a face because he did a short nod. Damian says something; something about you. He wants your opinion about something but you don’t know what he said. There was just one fact running through your mind.

He was in love with you. Like genuinely.

You must’ve been a horrible gay boyfriend because you smile and ask him to repeat himself.

“Oh, (Y/n),” Tim cuts you off, closing his laptop. “I wanted your opinion on something about… stuff; join me.”

“Can’t it wait?” Bruce asks. He assumes it’s about his case because Bruce was considering asking you some questions about it anyway. It had to deal with your major and why not ask the kid who’s currently studying what he thinks?

“Don’t wanna forget,” Tim shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” You smile. “I’ll be back in the second, yeah?” Damian nods, squeezing your hand as you leave the room with Tim.

“He’s a lot.” Is the first thing Tim says when you’re walking into a nearby room.

“I wouldn’t say that,” You mumble, falling onto a couch with a loud sigh.

“Really? Because he just said you’re the love of his life and you looked sick.”

“I’m just—“ Any reasoning dies before you find it and you look at him. “It was shocking.” You settle on saying.

“Yeah, you’ve been dating for maybe six hours and you were asleep for half of them. Congrats, though. You’ve clearly won him over,” Tim settles across from you, his legs hanging off of the chair while he hangs his head, staring at the dead fireplace.

“I don’t know what love is.” You blurt and he looks up, half interested.

“Considering your family is a weird fucking situation, I figured.”

“Shut up, fucking detective.”

“Ouch,” He teases with a grin. “Put ‘World’s Greatest’ in front of it next time.”

“Can you explain love? Maybe then I'll put the title.”

“You’re great at barging,” Tim sits up, now resting his chin on his fists. You stare at him, waiting and he sits there. Thinking.

“If Jon was to walk through the doors and declare his love for Damian, how would you feel?”

“Upset. Confused.” You shrug.

“How often do you look for him?”

“Not often. We’re never apart.”

“When you are.” He corrects, rolling his eyes.

“Often, I guess. I worry;” You shrug.

“About what?”

“During…” Glancing at the door. “Our side jobs, I worry that he’s been taken. I guess. Maybe worse. During classes I just miss him, I’m used to being around him.”

“Used to or want to?”

“What do you mean?” Your face pinches and Tim tilts his head.

“Are you used to being around Damian or do you want to be around Damian?”

“I want to,” You answer without hesitation. “I miss him when I sleep and he’s not there. I think of him whenever I’m shopping because I often see something he would like. I’ve…” You trail off, rubbing your hands on your legs. “Never told him I’m mildly allergic to dogs because he loves Titus.”

“You’re allergic to dogs?”

“Mhmm, my throat gets itchy for a bit when I touch them or something they’ve come into contact with. I try not to touch them too often. I think I’ve built an immunity, though.”

“I’d say you’re in love. I would never do that,” He laughs. “Maybe baby love and Damian’s full deep-end love, but love.”

“Really?” You smile and he nods, looking you up and down as if he’s judging you. He totally is.

“Yeah, only fools in love would do something that stupid.”

—

When Diana returns to the dining room, you pay her no mind. You're holding your goddaughter as she stares up at you, holding your finger. Her eyes really are green like her mother's. She smiles, cooing when Damian strokes the top of her head.

She’s not old enough to have normal food, but it doesn’t mean she likes it. She tries to grab the fork whenever she can and even tries to remove the tablecloth to get to the delicious food. Against your wishes, Kori takes her upstairs. Dick says she needs to eat and you reluctantly understand, missing her already.

“It’s time for dessert,” Alfred announces as he stands some time after Kori comes back, Mar’i once again fast asleep. Everyone had finished their plates and slumped in their seats, sure they were going to fall into a food coma.

“I’ll help clear the table,” You offer, standing up and grabbing some of the trays. Jason does the same and you stare at each other; silently agreeing you’d split the leftovers evenly if you don’t argue and alert the others.

Alfred takes the trays the two of you don’t and once they’re set on the table, he watches as the two of you rush to grab the tupperware he takes out for Thanksgiving and pile food inside.

“Do leave some for the rest of us,” He comments as he goes back into the dining room to fetch the dirty plates and utensils and you apologize but continue filling the trays. You end up with eight heavy bowls; four for you and four for Damian. It’s not a lot, all things considered. No one else really gets the vegan things so it's always going with Damian. But even with Jason’s filling, there’s more than enough for everyone else.

You put your tubs into your toolbox, preserving them exactly how they are while Jason has to put his in the fridge after slapping several sticky notes and writing on the tubs that the food is his and he will shoot whoever takes them.

You’re nearly tempted.

Alfred returns with the dishes, scraping the bones and scraps into the trash before he places them in the sink to soak.

“Go inside, you will not have first dibs on dessert.” He says, eyeing the two of you while you stand in the kitchen's doorway.

“Aw man,” You frown, dragging your feet as you walk away.

“I assume you stole the leftovers?” Damian grins when you sit back down.

“Absolutely,” You grin back, knocking his leg with yours. “All the favorites, enough for a week.” He nods in approval, once again looking over the table.

Alfred wheels in the desert and you swear it’s like feeding time at the zoo because the right side of the table eye the trays like they’re raw meat and they’re wild animals who hadn’t eaten in ages. Even Bruce.

He sets the left side first; which will have the same things as the right and your mouth waters when you see the knafeh. You know your family won’t love it the same way you do and god, you’re going to take the whole pan home. There’s an elaborate strawberry cheesecake, three pies (apple, pecan, and pumpkin), banana pudding, and crème brûlée donuts.

“I’m gonna cry,” Stephanie whispers, her leg bouncing with anticipation. “It’s so beautiful.”

When Bruce gives the nod to dig in— after Alfred pre-cut slices and gave everyone warning stares—, the dessert free-for-all is more contained. Everyone gets two slices of each pie, two of the cheesecake, enough of the pudding, and three donuts. It’s typically that way but everyone starts trading for their favorite things. You trade your pecan and pumpkin pie slices for: an apple slice, a donut, and two cheesecake slices. Or you don’t. Maybe you made it up; it’s up to your imagination, really.

Your focus is on the knafeh; everyone always gives you one of their slices out of tradition. No need to trade for those bad boys.

Alfred pours eggnog for everyone as well— he even makes special ones for those with diet restrictions.

“This is so good,” Your cousin says, face stuffed with pumpkin pie. “You’re like Gordon Ramsay, dude.”

“Thank you, young man.” Alfred gives him a warm smile that makes your cousin beam.

“I’m a man,” He whispers to his mother, eyes twinkling. She laughs and ruffles his hair.

“So, you two are in a real relationship?” Your father's wife asks, pointing her fork between you and Damian. “Like… actually?”

“Yup,” You nod, licking your spoon clean of the apple pie filling.

“Unfortunately,” Jason teases.

“Just so you know; I’m like totally cool with gay people.” She says, holding her hand in your general direction as if you were going to grab it. “I’m an ally!”

“Nice,” You nod again. She smiles and nods, sipping her spiked eggnog. She spiked it, and everyone saw. She’ll deny it later.

“They’re clearly lying!” Diana shouts. You were waiting for that; she’d been incredibly silent for most of the dinner. It was only a matter of time. “(Y/n) is jealous that me and Damian clearly have a spark! He’s… he’s messing with Damian’s mind! You saw the way he looked at me at the tree and besides— (Y/n) has had girlfriends before!”

“I’m bisexual.”

“As if! You don't even like Ryan Reynolds and I remember when you were eight and you said you’d date Red Hood if he was a girl!”

“I never said that!” You quickly shout, face heating up as the others around you snicker.

“Yes, you did! You made Nadia make you that Red Hood costume for Halloween and made posters of him! You painted our Nerf guns black! And you said you wanted to marry ‘Girl Red Hood’!”

“No, I didn’t! Oh my god, I didn’t!” You swear, shaking your head.

“You did,” Nadia nods and you cover your face, unable to look at the Wayne’s. “It was clear, in hindsight.”

“So,” Jason slowly nods. “Red Hood was your gay awakening?”

“No! I was not into Red Hood!”

“And then he was fixated on Robin for a while. The one with the swords,” Nadia continues and you almost sob, collapsing in your seat. “He wanted swords and he swore his Robin hoodie for almost two months straight; convinced dad to buy Robin bedsheets.”

“They’re lying,” Your voice is muffled under your hands. Damian rubs your shoulder but you can just tell he’s enjoying this.

“It was so much worse than the Red Hood phase,” Pat slowly agrees. “Is that why you moved here?”

“No, because that never happened.”

“It did,” Your mother slowly agrees. “But you stopped because of…” She trails, looking at your father. The conversation dies there and you’re able to breathe.

“Damian’s not even gay!”

“Diana,” You groan.

“Considering there’s a video going around of them kissing; I’d say he’s pretty gay,” Tim says and you look at him.

“You recorded us kissing?”

“Not me; that’s too weird for me.” He shakes his head, flipping his laptop to show you. “Diana was live and someone screen recorded. You’re trending with the hashtag: stuffing.”

“That’s just crazy,” You snicker but try to be serious.

“Hickeys so soon?” Stephanie wiggles her eyebrows at Damian as she watches the video.

“This is unbecoming,” Damian blinks at the video but everyone can see he’s red in the face. “I demand you stop playing the video.”

“I actually sent it to everyone already.”

“Drake!”

“Tim!”

“What?” He grins, looking between the two of you. “All of us have one— it’s a rite of passage for Bruce’s sort of kids to get caught making out and having it posted.”

—

Dinner wraps up, and you’re in the kitchen with Alfred, putting your leftovers into more Tupperware to avoid… all of them really. He’s washing the dishes, insistent that he does it alone and you let him. He won’t budge on his Thanksgiving dish duties for some odd reason.

You’re finishing up when your phone buzzes and you check it.

Diana :

Mom and dad are yelling at each other because of you. I hope you’re happy.

Just stop pretending you weren’t even bisexual yesterday.

It’s actually really sad.

They’re talking about changing custody because of you, now I won’t be able to see mom or dad EVER again.

Nadia:

I can see Diana texting you

it’s not your fault

you know how they are

and i’m proud that you came out, sorry i didn’t say it earlier

Your family had left in a haste, mostly rushed by your mother and father who climbed into a large uber with the kids and spouse. Your aunt and cousins were driven back by Dick.

You:

thanks, you too, btw

Nadia:

LOLLL maybe one day

you two should come visit us one day, see the farm

damian likes animals, right?

You:

yeah

loves them

She sends you some pictures of animals she’s gotten over the course of a couple years and you smile.

You:

oh he’ll definitely want to see them

maybe during spring break?

Nadia:

sounds perfect. stay safe, ill worry about mom and dad

You:

okay love you

Nadia:

love you too

—

Later that night, everyone is doing a late-night patrol when you hear Jason start speaking.

“Girl Red Hood?”

“They were lying!”

“For Hood’s sake, he better pray that is true.”

#x male reader #x reader #damian al ghul x male reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne al ghul #robin x reader #robin x male reader

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luceafarul-de-dimineata · 2 days ago

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Minhyeok's possession

Pairing: Asmodeus x Minhyeok x Mc

Summary: Minhyeok has 20 different awakenings in the span of 5 minutes.

You know the drill, they/them Afab reader. This was writen before the official release of Asmodeus and I haven't yet read any of his story.

You had heard a lot about Abaddon before even thinking about setting foot in the region. It's a prison, a freak show, the place where neither devils nor angels want to find themselves in. But it didn't matter. You had a job to do and a regions bad reputation wasn't going to detere you from helping Hell win the war.

The first thing that you realised about Abaddon was that consent isn't a veriable. Perhaps its a bit your fault for disregarding everyone's advice and coming alone in a foreign country, but that didn't give the devils the right to grope you when you weren't looking. Your salvation came in the form of the most beautiful man you've ever seen. Asmodeus heard a lot about the decendent of Solomon walking around hell, so of course he needed a piece of you, just like everyone else.

The second thing that you realised about Abaddon was that ignoring the unwanted advances, everyone was a romantic. Every other line of Asmodeus was a flirty remark or a tease, but that didn't stop at Asmodeus alone. Your first meeting with Ronové, for exemple, involved getting your hand kissed while he made prolongued eye contact with you... you think, the mask made it hard to tell. Even Dantalian tryed to invite you to sneak in Heaven before Asmodeus glared him down. But nobody could compete with the king himself.

He took you to a private dinner that was fancy enough to fit your outfit. Even though you liked the casual atmosphere of the pub in Gehenna and the grandious golden dinners of Tartaros, the quiet and intimate atmosphere of Abaddon, combined with the smitten sanguine eyes of the devil in front of you must have been your favorite.

Everything was straight out of a movie and you don't even flinch when Asmodeus takes you to bed with him. You were ready to pay him back the only way you probably could, but you were surprised when he just cuddled close to you.

You wanted to question him, but deep down, you did enjoy the feeling of just snuggling with someone in bed, you've been missing it since... well since you went to hell. Asmodeus must have known, must have felt your desire for cuddles and he, as the generous devil that he is, took care of your wants.

The next morning, you woke up clinging to Asmodeus, his black hair cascading on your face and tickling you awake. It was such a familiar atmosphere that the name of your childhood best friend turned roomate escaped your lips. Asmodeus must have taken notice of your longing for a certain human man and fortunatly enough for him, he had the perfect opening to act.

In the human world, Minhyeok was getting desprate. He already crossed so many of his self impossed limitations. He had a rule he would never watch pornography, but there was this actress that looked just like you and he missed you so much! He promised to never jerk it to someone else, but he did, multiple times. It was starting to effect every part of his life. When he talks with Ppyong about your whereabouts and the little devil mentions you're with the king of lust, he almost explodes with jealousy.

He knows it's a bad idea as he's doing it. But humans don't think rationally when there's stakes like your potential lover on the line. Minhyeok decides to summon the bastard. He doesn't really have a plan, desire being the only thing guiding his actions. Before he even knew it, the king was right infront of him, grinning.

Lust reaked in the air even before Asmodeus made his grand appearance. After all, he was the only demon allowed to travel so freely from a realm to another, and it was all thanks to horny boys like the one in front of him. While he wasn't a believer, maybe fate had a hand to play in all of this.

Minhyeok stared in awe and fascination at the gorgeous demon before him. Asmodeus lifted Minhyeok's chin so their eyes could meet before starting to stroke his face affectionatly. Humans... such simple creatures. They think themselves up as gods and intelectuals, but some stroking and praise can make anything bow before him.

"Why did you summon me, Minhyeok, dear?"

Asmodeus' voice was a silky poison, a lullaby dragging you to your death, but the ride was too enjoyable to mind.

"I'll give anything... for one hour of love..."

Inspite of his want to appear strong and intimidating, Minhyeok sounded more like a horny teenager. It wasn't the image he wanted to display to his supposate rival, but it was all he could muster. The hypnotic beauty of the man in front of him almost made him forget about you entirely... almost.

"Such strong desires from a man like yourself. How about we make a deal? I'll help you get them under you, if you do everything I tell you. Just follow my lead and you'll have them beneath you begging for more."

Asmodeus was twirling Minhyeok's hair before leaning closer, their lips not even an inch apart. Perhaps it was an old mamalian instict, but, even without asking, Minhyeok knew how to seal the deal.

The kiss was short but passionate, filled with a familiar carnal desire. He man closed his eyes and embraced the demon, but when he opened them again, he was on top of you. You looked breathless and flustered, but he was more confused than anything. At a closer inspection, both of you were naked in a large dovet bed. He tried to move away, but he felt a strong pair of arms caging him in. The same venomous voice filled his mind once more.

"Put your hand on their breasts and grope them, tease them a bit longer, they love it. Just like this."

The man felt ghostly cold hands start to play with his erect nipples and, in tandem, his hands did the same to you.

You felt dazed with pleasure. You must be hallucinating, there's no way the somewhat shy Minhyeok was now teasing you like a porn star. Your memory is hazy, remembering just the breakfast with the Abaddon king and then... being woken up by your childhood best friend kissing you passionatly. It's not like you could complain, whenever you opened your mouth, only sounds of pleasure would come out.

"That's a good boy~"

Minhyeok whimpered at the praise and let his body be moved by the demon. He gave you a hickey, but he felt the bite and more on the same spot of his neck.

"Look at you, all excited and eager. For how long have you been waiting for me to do this to you? Tsk, such an impatient pet. I'll need to train you better in the future. What if we go out to a party and you wet yourself like this?"

Minhyeok spoke without even realising. Asmodeus loved messing with humans like this. The way they parroted whatever he told them was adorable, like getting a dog to bark on command. Dump creatures, yet so adorable. His favorite little specimens.

Asmodeus parted Minhyeok's legs, who followed suit and parted yours as well. First, a finger snakes its way inside each of the humans' holes. You never knew just how good Minhyeok was at finding your G-spot, and you'll never know how he managed to find it, guided by Asmodeus' own actions on the man's body.

A second finger followed and then a third, not for either of your enjoyment, but for Asmodeus' convenience. With a particularly brutal thrust of the digits, you cum, creaming on Minhyeok's large palm. He stared at it, unmoving for a moment as Asmodeus cackled in the background before he brought his fingers to his mouth and kitten licked them.

"Go on, Minhyeok, my boy! Shove those in your throat, trully taste her desire for you. That's right... all for you."

And so he dead, slurping messily on the three fingers, like a beast sucking the blood of its victim. The display didn't take long, but there was certainly something erotic about it.

Once Asmodeus gets bored of the forplay, he puts his real plan into fruition. His demotic, ever shifting shaft slowly enters Minhyeok from behind, resulting in him penetrating you missionary style. Every filthy comment whispered in Minhyeok's ear by the demon made its way to you, through his familiar and nostalgic voice. Every thrust into Minhyeok was a thrust into you. Without either of your knowledge, both of your bodies where only ever serving the king of lust himself.

Layed on top of you and humping like a dog in heat, Minhyeok felt like he was in heaven. His crush, roomate, bestfriend, future wife, was right under him, moaning his name, screaming, cuming for him! HIM! Only him. It was all he ever wanted.

You weren't much better either. The pleasure was intense, like you were high on aphrodisiacs, but this whole scenario of getting roughly fucked by your best friend felt like a wet dream come true. You both had cummed god knows how many times, and, inspite of your bodies protests, you continued to stay awake a tad longer.

But even the strongest human bodies have limits and Asmodeus realised that he had fucked both of you past the point of going limp. Exhausted was a cheritable expression to describe the two humans layed in front of him. They served their purpose well and Asmodeus got his end of the deal, so he decided to take the man back to where he belonged.

"Sleep well, children... you did well, I'm proud of you~"

He kissed both of their forheads and tugged them in their respective beds.

Minhyeok can't get out of bed the next morning. He can barely even remember what happened. It must have been a dream, there's no other way. Yet your moans still ring in his ear, like a catchy song you listened to on repeat, the taste of your essance still lingers on his tongue and the bruises and hickeys tell a different story, one that he wished was true. He couldn't move, but neither did he really want to. He felt fulfilled for the time being.

You wake up with soft pounding in your head and... other regions, but when you tiredly search for Minhyeok, he's nowhere to be seen, just Asmodeus holding your head on his barely covered crotch and playing with your hair. You felt like the cat on a villan's lap, but it was a conforting one. You try to mumble something, but your tongue feels heavy and the gentle touches diswayed you from questioning things any further. You just lay in blissful peace on the lap of your doomer...

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb asmodeus #whb minhyeok #whb x reader #whb smut #you know what #fuck it #i've had this fic in my drafts for almost 6 months now #tell me if my writing is still holding up after all this time #the name's a really bad pun I came up with right now #going to sleep bye

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tragicslip · 14 days ago

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Fuck, this movie was so much deeper than I remember 😂😂😂

#funny because it's true #also pretty unfunny because it’s true #you need to just go eat your rich people #nom nom nom #cannot comprehend it #definitely not trying to rub it in #seriously #I suggest health tourism #you can stay at mine #I won’t bite #a lot #🤷‍♂️#surprised they allowed this movie when you think about it #I just love me some socialism 😁#movie memes #true memes #I do really feel for you #queued post #I am solidly asleep

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lymtw · 6 months ago

Text

Toji invites you over with a simple text of:

You busy tonight, doll?

To which you respond with:

I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?

He laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.

Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?

I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.

You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.

Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.

Drive safe.

Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.

You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.

He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.

Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.

"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.

"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"

"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.

"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.

"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."

He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.

"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.

You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.

Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".

Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.

"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.

"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.

"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"

You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.

One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.

You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.

You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.

"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.

"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.

"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.

"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"

"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.

"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."

With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.

"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.

Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.

"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.

Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."

Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.

"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"

The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.

Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"

"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"

He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."

You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.

"So?" Toji prompts.

"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.

Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.

"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.

"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.

You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.

"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."

You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.

"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.

"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."

Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.

You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.

This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.

"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.

"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."

He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"

"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.

"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.

"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.

"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.

"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.

"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.

He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.

"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."

"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.

He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.

You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.

You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.

He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.

With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.

"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"

Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.

"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."

Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.

"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.

You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.

"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."

You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.

"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.

"Why not?"

"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."

"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.

"Toji, don't look at me."

"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.

"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.

"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."

"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.

"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.

"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.

"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.

"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."

You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.

"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.

"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.

"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.

"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."

Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.

Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.

"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.

"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."

Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.

"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."

You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.

"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."

You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."

"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."

Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.

"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.

Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.

"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.

"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.

"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"

"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.

Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.

"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."

"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."

"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.

"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.

"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.

"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.

"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.

You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.

There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.

You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...

"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.

"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.

Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.

You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."

Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."

"So... boring."

"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.

You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."

"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."

You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.

"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.

"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.

"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.

You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.

"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.

"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.

"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. "There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."

"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.

"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."

You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.

He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."

That went out to every version of you.

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cipheramnesia · 26 days ago

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One funny piece of media criticism floating around Tumblr dot hellsite dot com is talking about making movies that are just fun, The Mummy with Brendan Frasier being a premiere example. Generally the way it goes is, "they don't have to be good, just fun." Thing is, making a fun movie like The Mummy is a lot of work. Exciting adventure stories don't just happen by accident, and part of the immense skill of such movies is making it all look easy.

I'm sometimes taken off guard by a movie that's better than expected - usually because they seem low budget and the summary sounds boring. Sometimes it's because it looks like another boring and cliche action movie. Plenty of those exist too, it's not like thousands of creators are falling ass backwards into brilliant filmmaking, Venom is an outlier. But it's really common to experience the surprise of audiences about some kind of big dumb action movie, and I think that's because so many action movies are big and dumb, few people understand that good action movies are smart.

You know what's good about the Mummy? Why it's good? Because it's a movie that knows every genre cliche the audience is waiting for, and chooses its moments to break those cliches with great care for maximum impact. It's good because it's direction knows how to build up great tension with the plot, through foreshadowing, through audience awareness, through genre standards. And the release is beautifully controlled. The "wrong side of the river" line is funny under any circumstances but it drops as a capstone on a very intense escape scene which makes it KILL, every time. When John Hannah's character turns out to be, against all the pre-loaded genre expectations and foreshadowing, actually a generally honest stand up guy, it's so much fun! Not by accident though. It's on purpose. It's a big dumb action movie but it's a big dumb action movie made by people who are very very good at making big dumb action movies.

That's really the thing of it all. There's now a hundred MCU movies that just turned The Mummy into a formula, they've carved out all the one liners and twists and turns mechanically, but they're not big dumb movies, because they're not allowed to be made with the kind of adoration of the genre that you get in smaller films, films that aren't locked into a three year product rollout plan. But you can still get big exciting movies if you look around for em. They didn't go away, they just got pushed out to the edge.

But I gotta beg again - take the time to recognize that when those movies that seem made without a thought or a care somehow manage to hit with you, give you a great big grin and a sense of excitement, remember that's not an accident or luck, someone probably plotted that out and made it fun on purpose, with care.

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twinklecupcake · 4 months ago

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Thinking of the library scene from the animated Beauty and the Beast.

He's so freaking adorable and excited. He's so excited to give this girl a gift and he really really hopes she likes it.

You just know that the "close your eyes - it's a surprise" was completely spur-of-the-moment too, as he's starting to open the door when he suddenly stops and goes "But first you have to close your eyes." Like, he was about to open the door and lead her in, but then thought wait, but this would be so fun.

And she lets him lead her in... Not only does she do as he asks (and GOOOOD the way he waves a paw in front of her face to make sure she's not peeking and then that SMILE...) but she allows him to take her hands, and she allows him to draw her into the room. She's completely trusting of him, she's not hesitant or resisting, she has no problem closing her eyes and allowing a monster to not only touch her, but to guide her steps without bringing her into possible danger. And she still doesn't peek until he says so - she just eagerly asks if she can look now, but she listens when he says not yet.

And then just that eager, anxious smile he has during the entire rest of the scene, you know he's so hopeful even before he asks "You like it?" and he's so pleased with himself and god damn this movie makes me soft.

#beauty and the beast

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softspiderling · 7 months ago

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god, it's brutal out here | r.c.

summary:

“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”

“She doesn’t want me.”

“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”

OR; 5 times your friends share their unsolicited opinions about your and Rafe’s break up.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: mention of c*caine

word count: 5,4k

author’s note: the long awaited sequel of so obsessed with your ex! this can be read as a standalone fic, but there are little easter eggs hidden all over, which will be more fun if you read the first part! it's a little bit longer than I had planned, but there was no way around it. I hope you enjoy it so so much!!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I Wheezie

“Hey Wheeze.”

You had accepted the facetime without looking at your phone, keeping it rested on a shelf while you were halfway into your closet, trying to find a dress.

“Does Rafe have a new girlfriend??”

Pausing, you shut your eyes, letting out a silent exhale before you picked up the phone, giving Wheezie a wry smile through the camera.

“Nice to see you too.”

The girl only looked at you, unimpressed and her arms crossed. You sighed, running a hand through your hair, knowing you didn’t have a way out of this conversation. Grabbing your phone, you sat down on your bed.

“Yes, Rafe has a new girlfriend.”

“I knew it!” Wheezie shrieked, throwing her arms up, and you only shook your head in exasperation. The tendency for drama clearly was in the Cameron genes. Wheezie frowned, getting closer to your phone as she looked at you.

“Why am I more upset about this than you are?”

You bit back another sigh. “Because Rafe and I are broken up, Wheeze. He’s allowed to date other people, matter of fact, I’m really glad that he has moved on.”

“Bullshit!”

“Wheezie!”

Wheezie rolled her eyes, but she sat back down, crossing her arms over her chest again. “I don’t like her.”

“You don’t even know her,” you sighed, rubbing your temple, feeling a migraine coming on.

“This is crazy!” Wheezie exclaimed. “You and Rafe never should’ve broken up in the first place! Rafe is probably only dating her to make you jealous so you’ll take him back.”

You couldn’t help but snort at that, Wheezie clearly watched way too many rom-coms. She frowned at you.

“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny, this is, like, super un-funny.”

“Because, Wheeze,” you started, plucking a feather out of your pillow. “This isn’t some 90’s rom-com where I see Rafe with Rebecca and suddenly a sad song is playing. This is real life. We are broken up.”

“I still don’t understand why.”

“Remember when we used to fight all the time? And I was just always sad?”

Wheezie was quiet, her lips still pursed. “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. Couples fight all the time, doesn’t mean you just have to break up.”

“Yes, couples fight all the time and they don’t have to break up, but it was the right decision for me and Rafe,” you said, your tone final. Wheezie looked at you, her frown slowly smoothing down.

“If you say so,” she muttered, not quite convinced. She stared down at her chipped finger nails, before she looked up again. “Can we still talk?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of course we can still talk, why wouldn’t we?”

“I don’t know… I mean, you’re gonna find a new boyfriend and maybe he has a younger sister as well and then I’ll just be your ex’s younger sister.”

“Wheeze,” you said, fondly, knowing where she was coming from. You had been in her life for most of her teenage years, it must be weird not having you around anymore. “We’ll still talk, no matter if I get a new boyfriend or not, even if he has a cool younger sister, or even three.”

Wheezie smiled, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re so dumb.”

“Yet you still want me around,” you teased. “How about you, Sar and I go get some ice cream and then to the movies this weekend?”

“Sounds good,” Wheezie replied with a big smile. She paused when someone called her name from somewhere in the house, before she turned back to her phone. “I gotta go, Rose needs me. I’ll text you later.”

“Alright, Wheeze. Talk to you later, be good.”

Wheezie waved into the camera, before the facetime ended. Your smile dropped and you tossed your phone on your bed with a sigh, letting yourself fall back on your bed. Even six months after the break up it was still hard to talk about Rafe, and now that he had a new girlfriend, you thought it’d be easier to get over him, but all it did was hurt more. It didn’t help that Rafe was still texting you every now and then. Nothing scandalous, just small texts, but you never replied. You both agreed on no contact after the break up, because you thought it’d give you a better opportunity to heal. You should’ve known he’d break it. Picking up your phone, you unlocked it, swiping to your messages.

Rafe [11/30/23: 1:43 am]: couldn’t sleep. remember when we took out the boat at two am bc we both drank a red bull at ten?

Rafe [11/30/23: 11:22 am]: sorry, i was drinking. didn’t mean to text you. hope you’re doing good

Rafe [12/25/23: 2:44 pm]: merry christmas. it’s weird without you.

Rafe [01/01/24: 01:02 am]: happy new year’s.

Rafe [01/05/24: 9:56 pm]: are you really not gonna text me back?

Rafe [01/27/24: 3:07 am]: i miss you

Rafe [02/12/24: 12:05 pm]: saw you at the party last night. you looked so fucking pretty. took everything in me not to talk to you.

Rafe [03/01/24: 7:12 pm]: idk if you care or not, but i still wanted to let you know. i’m seeing someone

You never replied to any of the texts, knowing it was for the better. You could block him, but you never brought it over your heart to do so, telling yourself you wanted him to reach you in case of emergency, but deep down, you didn’t want to block him.

Just incase.

II Barry

“Want some C?” Barry asked as greeting, presenting Rafe a small baggie with white powder in it as soon as he walked onto the lot.

“Nah,” Rafe declined, already feeling jittery enough without it, “Won’t say no to a beer though.”

Barry let out a grunt, tossing the baggie on the table, disappearing inside the trailer. Rafe took a seat in one of the chairs, running his hand over his buzzed head, bouncing his leg nervously. He had needed to get out of the house for a while. Ever since Rebecca pulled the picture out of the drawer, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Again.

Which is fucked up, really. He thought he got over you, he didn’t want to be the guy who thought about his ex while having a whole ass girlfriend. The door to the trailer opened with a slam, Barry exiting with two beer cans, handing Rafe one of them. The can was ice cold in his hands, and the cold liquid helped with his racing heart. He let out a sigh, rubbing a thumb over his eye brow. Rafe took another gulp of the beer, almost drinking the entire can in one go, while Barry watched him, assessing.

“You good?”

Rafe nodded, setting the can on the table.

“Yeah, jus’ stressed.”

“Work, or…?”

Barry trailed off without finishing his sentence and Rafe didn’t answer, wiping a finger over his jaw, which was clenched to the max.

Barry eyed him skeptically, leaning back in his chair. “How’s Mrs. Country Club?”

Rafe let out a loud sigh, tipping his head back, like he always did when he was annoyed with Barry.

“Barry, I don’t know if all the drugs you’re taking are starting to get to your memory, but we broke up.”

“Don’t be fucking rude,” he said, kicking Rafe’s chair. Not hard enough for it to tip over, but hard enough for Rafe to grip onto the arm rests, glaring at his friend. “How’d you know I wasn’t talking ‘bout your new girl?”

“Because you always call her Becky,” Rafe pointed out, giving him a look.

Barry shrugged, taking a sip from his beer. “You still know who ‘m talking about, so what’s the problem?”

“Problem is, it’s disrespectful. You know that’s not her name.”

“You’re still hung up on your ex while dating Becky, so who’s really disrespecting her?”

Rafe’s head shot up and the glare he sent Barry was deadly.

“Fuck this shit, and fuck you,” he snapped, pushing himself up from the chair, but Barry grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“Boy, sit down.”

Rafe scowled at him, before sitting back down, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. He did not come all the way out to the cut to get called out like this.

“If you came here to be coddled, you went to the wrong person.”

“I don’t need to be coddled,” Rafe muttered with an eyeroll. “Just wanted to let off some steam.”

“So?” Barry snorted, waving his hands around. “Steam away.”

Rafe scoffed, scooting down in his chair, shaking his head. “Do you think I want to think of her? I fucking hate feeling like this. Bex is nice, and she’s hot. And yet-”

“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”

“She doesn’t want me.”

“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”

“Nah, you don’t fucking get it, “ Rafe sneered, leaning his head in his hands. And he didn’t, not really. Which really wasn’t his fault. Rafe just didn’t want to talk about the break up with his friends. Physically couldn’t. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t told anyone why you broke up. Just made it feel all to real, he guessed.

“Nah, you’re right, I don’t,” Barry said, shaking his head. “All I know is, one day you’re all fucking sunshine and the next you’re more emo than that Friday girl.”

“What?” Rafe asked, lifting his head to stare at Barry in confusion.

Barry waved him off. “You know, that freaky girl from Netflix with the black lipstick.”

“Do you mean Wednesday?”

“Yeah, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, all the same to me,” Barry huffed. “Point is, life’s too fucking short to do things that don’t make you happy.”

“Bex makes me happy.”

Barry gave him a long, hard look, squinting his eyes at him. “Yeah, right. Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

Rafe stared back at him before shaking his head, finishing the last of his beer before crushing the empty can in his hand, declining to answer, because he knew he couldn’t convince Barry.

He wasn’t even convinced himself.

III Topper

top [05/03/24: 4:06 pm]: gonna be at alex’s later tonight with rafe and rebecca just fyi if you wanted to come

mrs. rafe [05/03/24: 4:57 pm]: k, thanks for letting me know

—— NEW MESSAGE ——

top [05/04/24: 1:37 am]: can you pick me up?

It was Saturday night, a little past your bedtime for a night in. You were getting ready for bed, exiting the bathroom when your phone buzzed in your hand. Lifting it, you read the new text, not quite believing he’d make you do this. What the fuck was he thinking asking you to pick him up? Shaking your head in disbelief, you typed out an answer.

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: topper no

Before you could put the phone away, your phone already buzzed with an answer, and you nearly didn’t want to read whatever lame ass excuse he came up with, your hand stilling when your eyes flit over his text.

top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: please, i don’t want to get a ride with rafe and rebecca

top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: she asked me so many questions about you and i can’t be around rafe rn or i’ll tell him

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:45 am]: … fine

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:47 am]: you’re so annoying

Cursing Topper and yourself for not going to bed sooner, you put on a sweatshirt and grabbed your keys and purse, typing out another text before you headed out of the house, getting into your car.

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:49 am]: be there in ten

top [05/04/24: 1:50 am]: omg i owe you <3

Barely ten minutes later, you pulled up in front of Alex’ house, looking out for Topper, before you spotted him underneath a tree. You rolled to a stop next to him, giving him the most unimpressed look.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Topper groaned, getting into the car, shutting the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes, pulling off the curb without another word, driving towards Topper’s house.

“I’m really sorry for asking you to come get me, but Rafe was looking for me and I had too much to drink already to lie in his face,” Topper said, leaning his back against the headrest, shutting his eyes.

You desperately wanted to know what Rebecca had asked but you didn’t want to come off as the nosy ex, even if this was Topper. So as nonchalantly as you could, you asked: “What did you talk about?”

“Jesus,” Topper said, running a hand through his hair. “She asked me how you guys broke up and wanted details, too. Was super insistent, I was kinda scared actually.”

Okay, so just normal sussing out the ex, you could deal with that.

“What did you say?”

“That it was a mutual break up and I didn’t know why you broke up, just that you suddenly disappeared from each other’s lives.”

You sighed. That was the vaguest answer you’d ever heard.

“Why didn’t you just tell her why we broke up?”

Topper glanced at you, his brows knitted together.

“How can I tell her something I don’t know?”

“What?”

You slammed on the breaks, nearly sending Topper flying through the windshield because the idiot hadn’t buckled up, while you stared at him.

“What do you mean you don’t know why we broke up?”

“I don’t!” Topper exclaimed. “Rafe refuses to talk about it and you never told me either.”

“Because I assumed Rafe has told you! It’s been like six months!”

Blinking at Topper, it took you a few seconds to process, jumping when someone honked their horn at you, when you remembered you had stopped in the middle of the street.

“Shit,” you muttered, shifting gears to keep on driving, eyes flitting to Topper repeatedly.

“So…” he started. “Why did you guys break up?”

You gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, letting out a deep breath. When you had left to come pick Topper up, you hadn’t expected having to tell him why you and his best friend had broken up.

“I was getting so worried about him. He was so stressed about the company every day, took home so much work and Ward was breathing down his neck to keep the numbers up. I told him that I thought he should take a step back, maybe take a break or something, tried to convince him of going on a trip or something, but the more I said, the more he seemed to be pushing himself into work. It got so bad that we were fighting basically every day, and it just wasn’t working anymore. It felt like we were going in circles.”

You cleared your throat when you felt yourself getting choked up, vision turning a little blurry from the tears in your eyes.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Topper exclaimed, patting himself down, looking for some tissues.

“Don’t worry about it,” you snorted, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You were so wrapped up in trying to retell the break up, you hadn’t even noticed that you already reached Topper’s house. “I shouldn’t even still be getting so worked up over this after all this time,” you sniffed, turning your car off.

Topper looked at you, with that typical look on his face and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. I can’t believe Rafe hasn’t told you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? I think he might be in denial about it.”

You scoffed at him, shaking your head. Why was everyone so hung up over your break up?

“It’s been six months.”

Topper didn’t reply, his hand on the car door and you expected him to bid you good bye, but that was too easy.

“… Do you think you guys will get back together?”

“He has a girlfriend, Top.”

“Still. I don’t think that Rafe and Rebecca are gonna last very long.” Topper looked at you, pressing his lips together, before shaking his head. “Sorry. Thanks for coming and for getting me home. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, giving him a small wave, and waited until he got out of the car, shutting the door behind him, before you turned your car on, pulling off.

“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, wiping the rest of the tears off as you drove home.

IV Kelce

“Kelce!”

Kelce looked up from the pool table, a smile growing on his face when he saw Rafe come down the basement, his friend wrapping an arm around him for a brief hug.

“Happy birthday, man,” Rafe said, handing Kelce a bottle of the expensive whiskey he always drank when he was at Rafe’s but too stingy to buy it for himself.

“Ah shit, you didn’t have to,” Kelce uttered, though his eyes were sparkling as he looked at the bottle in his hands. He handed the pool stick to one of the guys next to him, leading Rafe to the bar. He grabbed two glasses from the shelves, pouring Rafe and himself a good amount, offering one of the glasses to him.

“Cheers to you.”

The two clinked their glasses, before sipping on the whiskey. Kelce really enjoyed it, too, with the way he closed his eyes, and Rafe only snorted in his glass. Kelce peaked his eye open, shoving his friend fondly with a grin.

“Rebecca here?”

“Yeah, upstairs.”

Kelce hummed in thoughts, nodding absentmindedly. He stared into his glass, swishing the amber liquid around before he spoke up again.

“You know she’s here, too, right?”

Rafe tensed, knowing exactly that Kelce was talking about you, but he had expected it. Firstly, because you and Kelce had always been friends, and secondly because he had heard Sarah making plans with you to go together. Didn’t mean this felt any less of a punch to the gut. He really hoped he wouldn’t run into you, because he wasn’t quite sure what he’d do; all he knew was, that Bex wasn’t gonna like it. Rafe cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound nonchalant.

“I figured, yeah.”

“That okay?” Kelce asked, and Rafe was starting to get annoyed, rolling his eyes. Why was Kelce questioning him about you on his damn birthday? He tried to dampen his anger though, not wanting to ruin the night.

“Yes. It’s your birthday, man.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, Rafe knew he did a shit job of hiding his emotions, and Kelce eyed him suspiciously.

“I don’t get you guys,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got a new girl, but you still haven’t gotten over your ex, clearly, but every time I mention her, you act like it’s the worst thing in the world, but neither of you have said a bad word about the other.

Rafe scoffed, though his heart started to race at the thought of you talking about him. He wondered what you had said, if you cared enough to ask about him, or if you had long moved on.

“Are you ever gonna tell me why you guys broke up?”

“Maybe next time.”

Kelce gave him a wry smile, knowing this was Rafe avoiding the topic again. He lifted his head when more people starting coming down the basement, curling his hand around Rafe’s shoulder to give him a squeeze.

“I really hope you figure it out bro, because this right now is not it.”

He then excused himself to welcome the new arrivals and Rafe gripped his glass, before downing it in one go.

“Alright, who wants to get destroyed in a round of pool?” he asked, clapping his hands together as he approached the pool table. Anything to stop himself from going upstairs to look for you.

V Sarah

“Oh my god, I thought you were gonna keep talking to her forever!”

You gave Sarah a look. She hadn’t even waited a minute after you left Rebecca on the couch before she started talking about her.

“I don’t have a problem with her.”

Sarah groaned, linking her arm with yours as to not lose you in the crowd that has formed in Kelce’s house. You were glancing around, hyper aware that you could run into Rafe any second, but you didn’t want Sarah to notice.

“I don’t understand how you can be so chill. Did you not see the picture she had in her purse?”

You sighed, brushing your hair back over your shoulder. Was this ever going to stop? “Sar, please.”

“Hello?? That was super freaky.”

“Maybe she was just cleaning up and wanted to throw it in the trash and forgot it in her purse.”

Sarah laughed dryly, shaking her head. “Bullshit! Admit that you find it weird.”

“Okay, maybe it is a little weird,” you admitted. “But don’t you do things that are a little weird sometimes? Maybe she’s just a little insecure. Which I wouldn’t blame her for, you’re so mean. Shouldn’t you try and be her friend or something?”

“Why? She’s not gonna be around much longer anyways, and I already have a friend.”

You rolled your eyes, fishing your keys out of your purse to unlock your car. Again with the sentiment that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t gonna last much longer. You decided against deeming that statement with an answer and got into your car, with Sarah getting into the passenger seat.

“Do you want to grab some burgers?” She asked, buckling up, like she hadn’t just told you that your ex and his new girlfriend weren’t gonna last.

You gave her a look as you tossed your purse to the back.

“What do you mean do I want to grab burgers? I thought you wanted to leave because you’re meeting John B early in the morning.”

Sarah blinked at you, before she reached out to give you a shove on the forehead. “I was lying so we could get away, stupid.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, starting your car as Sarah protested.

“What? I was getting weirded out by you being all besties with Rafe’s new girlfriend. I don’t even understand how you can be so nice to her knowing she’s all up on your man.”

“Pray tell, who’s my man again?”

“Don’t even,” Sarah huffed. “You guys dated forever, I know you still love each other. And let me tell you one thing,” she said, raising her eyebrows at you. “If you got a new boyfriend? Rafe would not be this nice to him like you were to Rebecca.” With that, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, settling back against her seat.

You only sighed, starting your car in silence.

“Do you want to get burgers now or not?” you asked, extending a peace offer while looking over at Sarah. She glowered at you, before nodding with an eyeroll.

“Yes.”

BONUS + I Rafe

“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”

Rafe pushed the pasta on his plate around with his fork, too engrossed in his thoughts to even think about eating. He didn’t even notice how Dennis had stopped talking. Rafe looked up from his plate, only to see Dennis look at him intently, an amused grin on his face.

“Sorry, were you saying something?”

“I was saying a lot, but you seemed like you were on a completely different planet,” Dennis noted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Rafe winced, putting his fork down.

“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”

“I can tell,” Dennis mused. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Something like that.”

Rafe sighed, leaning back in his chair. Ever since you broke up, Rafe has been assuming that you didn’t care about him anymore, that you had long moved on from him and your relationship. He thought that you resented him, blamed him for the break up, which was honestly the main reason why he went back to the dating scene so quickly; to get over you. But hearing that you still cared about him? Enough to be nice to his new girlfriend and even ask about him? He wondered if there was still a chance for him and you to be together again.

If it weren’t for the fact that he already had a girlfriend.

“Can I give you some unsolicited advice, son?”

“Do I have a choice?” Rafe asked with a wry grin and Dennis only let out a belly laugh, shaking his head.

“Rafe, most relationships these days end because of your own ego, from both parties. No matter how big the fight or problem seems, will it really be that important in hindsight?” Dennis asked him. “How long have you an your girl been together? Almost 5 years, no?”

Rafe nodded, not daring to correct Dennis. He had never outright told him that you had broken up in the first place.

“See, that’s half a decade. I can assure you, in another half, you’re not even gonna remember this fight.”

Yeah, I don’t know about that, Rafe thought.

“Do you love her?”

Turning his ring on his finger, Rafe let out a soft exhale, before nodding. “Yeah, I do.”

“See. Problem solved.”

Rafe lifted his head to grin at Dennis.

“Thanks. Is it okay if we cut today short?”

“Sure,” Dennis said, waving Rafe off when he reached for his wallet. “Lunch is on me. Go get your girl.”

“I will,” Rafe promised, pushing his chair back to stand up. “I just gotta take care of something else first.”

BONUS + II You

You were staring at your phone, text thread with Rafe open. It was Saturday night; you and Sarah had went out to a small beach party. Sarah had gone to fill her drink back up and you had used that time of solace to overthink. About Rafe.

For the past few week, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. And you blamed your friends for it, really. First Wheezie, then Topper and then Sarah? Somehow all of them said that the break up was the worst idea, and even though you had always second guessed the choice to break up, this was the first time you actually actively regretted it.

The way Sarah seemed so sure that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t going to last long. Maybe you were wrong and they weren’t as happy as you thought. But then again, it wasn’t any of your business, was it? Who were you to put your nose into their relationship?

God, you shouldn’t be doing this.

“How long does Sarah need to fill her drink back up?” You muttered to yourself, finishing your vodka soda and burying the cup in the sand next to you, when you heard foot steps approaching.

“Finally! I was about to send a search group out for you!” you exclaimed, standing up and dusting the sand off your lap. “Seriously, how long does it take for-”

You froze when you turned around just to see Rafe standing in front of you, instead of Sarah. Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him, caught off guard.

“Rafe, hey,” you said, opting for casual. “Sorry. I thought you were Sarah.”

The corners of Rafe’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, I could tell.”

You looked at him, sighing a bit wistfully (mostly) internally, before you shifted on your feet nervously. “It was nice to see you,” you said, and it was true. “But um… I think I’ll go look for Sarah.” You gave him a small smile, before walking towards, and then past him.

“You’re still worried about me.”

You let out a startled laugh, pausing mid-step to turn back to him. “What?”

“You told Rebecca that you were glad that I had her and that you worried I work too much.”

“Of course I’m still worried about you,” you huffed, brushing your hair back. “You can’t be surprised about that.”

Rafe looked at you, and you could tell that this was news to him.

“Rafe.”

Rafe let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “You didn’t reply to any of my texts. I thought you were mad at me or somethin’.”

“I didn’t reply to any of your texts because we said we’d do no contact for a while.

“Still,” Rafe muttered, kicking a rock. “I didn’t think it would be so easy for you-”

“And because you were happy with Rebecca, do you think it’s easy for me to see you with someone else?”

“I broke up with Rebecca last week.”

“What?!”

Mouth agape, you stared at him and Rafe only rubbed the back of his neck. “She… Wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Oh,” you only said, letting out a soft exhale. “I’m sorry about that.”

Rafe sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His gaze was trained on the floor for a bit, before he lifted his head to look at you.

“I want to try again… I want us to try again.”

“Rafe…”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide and you didn’t move as Rafe took a step towards you, reaching for your hand. Your fingers were cold in his but they quickly warmed to his touch, and the way he laced his fingers with yours, felt all too familiar.

“I love you. I never should have agreed to breaking up. It was arguably the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

“And what’s the stupidest?” you asked, corners of your mouth lifting.

“Not listening to you when you were just trying to help,” he answered, looking down at you, so vulnerable like you hadn’t seen him in a long time. “I rearranged my schedule at the company so I could take on less work, take more time off and relax. Take the time to get us to where we were before it all went shitty.”

Your heart was in your throat as you listened to him talk, unsure what to say.

“Rafe, I don’t know… “

“Baby, please,” he begged, squeezing your hand. “Do you love me, still?”

You scoffed. “That’s not fair.”

“Why? Because you do?”

“Of course I still love you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. “Do you know how hard it was for me to ignore your texts? To see you with another girl, so happy?”

Rafe shook his head, lifting his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I wasn’t. Not really.”

You let out another sigh, looking at the way your hands were intertwined, how your heart had stopped racing, before you nodded, looking up at him. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

A smile spread across Rafe’s face, so big it was so uncharacteristic for him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It was like that word switched a flip inside of him, as he grabbed you by your nape gently, to kiss you, slotting his lips against your, and as your lips touched, it felt like you were finally home again. You only pulled away to breathe, both of you staring at each other like you couldn’t quite realize this was happening.

Sarah [05/11/2024: 10:45 pm]: (sent to 4 contacts) [picture attached: blurry photograph of you and Rafe kissing at the beach]

Topper [05/11/2024: 10:46 pm]: thank god.

Kelce [05/11/2024: 10:51 pm]: FINALLY!

Wheezie [05/11/2024: 10:59 pm]: !!!!!!

Barry [05/11/2024: 11:02 pm]: read at 11:02 pm

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: sooo.... what are we thinking?

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction

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goldenstring6123 · 4 months ago

Note

HIIIYAAAYAYA I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND I LOOK FORWARD TO EVERY SINGLE PIECE YOU RELEASE!!! YOU HAVE ME CHECKING YOUR PAGE 24/7 IM OBSESSEDDD 🫦🫦 ANYWHO ignore my fawning but how do you think the lads boys would react to a suuuuper clingy gf??? idk but if i were mc i would NOT be leaving their side and would literally be glued onto their body like mc is a strong soldier for resisting (especially rafayel my HUSBAND 😩) literally wanna just curl up in their lap and carve myself into their ribcage so they can never escape from me tehe. ALSOOO U DON’T GOTTA RESPOND IF UR BUSY OR UNCOMFY!!!! JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITING 🫶🫶

Lnds: Sticky little lover

Warning: vaguely suggestive, mentions of hickeys, fem!reader, clingy!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, there might be spelling mistakes, I haven't proofread yet.

Author's note: Awieee thank u sm pookie! I understand the feeling of wanting to latch onto the LIs~

Zayne:

Zayne wakes up with you on his chest, your leg over his crotch, and your arm across his stomach. To him, you were like a weighted stuffed toy and a weighted blanket, all at the same time. He wasn't complaining; maybe it was an excuse to stay in bed for another half an hour.

The bathroom is big enough for the two of you, with two wash basins, a separate shower, and a bathtub. There are three bathrooms in the house, but you always choose the one he uses. He's complained once, but you said you didn't like the interior design of the others. Side by side, you brush your teeth and comb your hair while he shaves and flosses. If you wake up earlier than usual, maybe he'll let you moisturize and exfoliate his face. It's no surprise Zayne leaves the bathroom door open for you. It's just normal for both of you to cross paths in the large bathroom.

When he leaves for work, you never miss a day to kiss his nose and give him a quick peck. You embrace him with two arms, but he hugs you back with one, the other hand holding his bag. You don't mind.

Your message gallery is filled with pictures of your mundane life: a snapshot of a book you're reading, the new coffee you tried, the little teacup Maltese that reminded you of him. Even though he's busy, he always finds time to react, and if he doesn't, he brings up the picture when you pick him up at the end of the day. He never forgets.

Calm days are spent in each other's presence. You always cling to him in one way or another. While he's reading a book, your feet are on his lap, and his fingers unknowingly knead your ankles. While watching a movie, your shoulders touch, and your hands are intertwined. When you react to the film, his hand, still holding yours, follows your movements.

Dates are always fun. It doesn't matter where you go or what you do as long as Zayne's in your company. Cafe dates are cute, but Zayne always calls you out for staring at him with a weird look in your eyes—you were admiring him. Whenever you walk, you cling to him, wrapping yourself around his forearm while playfully weighing him down. He stumbles for a second but smiles.

You love leaving hickeys on him, even bite marks if he allows, but the rule is never above the collar of his shirt. You oblige 97% of the time. The other 3%, you sneak in a light hickey that passes off as a mosquito bite, just peeking through the collar of his dress shirt. Sometimes, there's one behind his ear, barely visible. He never knows, but the doctors and patients at the hospital do.

When you're apart, you always call him and go about your day. At night, you video call and try to stay awake, only to snooze off. Zayne chuckles at your attempts to wash the tiredness away, but sometimes, he falls asleep with you. In the morning, both of your phones end up overheating and out of battery.

Zayne loves your company, to others it may seem trouble some but with you, it was adorable. It's through your clingyness that he experiences feelings he never once did before, and those little things always brighten his day. You actions with him makes him feel more loved and he knows he has a hard time expressing them but with you around, it had become more and more easier.

Rafayel:

They say opposites attract, but you and Rafayel are the universal exception.

Rafayel doesn't like it when you're late. Even for a home-date, he fusses about being left alone too long and feeling abandoned. You laugh at his whining over text and enter his door. When he sees you, he jumps off the couch and pouts, "Finally, it took you long enough."

You're like magnets to each other. Wherever one goes, the other follows. If you're cooking ramen in the kitchen, Rafayel sneaks behind you, hugging your back and sniffing your hair. If he's watering flowers in the greenhouse, you sit nearby and watch a ladybug on a leaf. If he's painting, you're reading on a nearby couch. Rafayel's residence is too big for one person but just enough for two.

Rafayel whines when you do something without him, especially if it's something he wants to do. You once took a flower arrangement class without him, and he sulked, "Wow, you didn't even think to tell me? I wanted to do that with you." Even watching movies is hard because you need to pause and wait for him whenever he leaves the room. One time, you finished a mystery series without him, and he ate the tiramisu you were saving for dessert in revenge.

Matching clothes is a thing. He avoids tacky prints but opts for complementary outfits. Because of this, Rafayel buys clothes with you in mind, often choosing items with a feminine counterpart. His shoe closet and yours are practically the same, and you don't complain because Rafayel has good fashion taste.

You love cute matching items. You once bought a two-piece mug set with a heart design, and he took the other one without you knowing. He also took a keychain from your collection, matching the one you have in your wallet.

"Are you tired of me now?" he asks when you keep your distance, avoiding a hug. It's the middle of summer, and the AC is broken. You reek of sweat, and the last thing you want is to be touched. You sigh and pat his back, "After I take a bath, I'll give you all the hugs you want."

He asks about your plans every morning, almost as a ritual. You've gotten used to replying while getting ready. If both schedules permit, he joins you for grocery runs, laundry, or whatever mundane tasks you have. You make good use of him, letting him carry the bags even if you could do it yourself.

When Rafayel is at an exhibit, you bombard him with texts: jokes, articles, or random thoughts. He replies quickly, hiding from the audience, bored out of his mind. In return, he sends you pictures of his artwork, which you threaten to sell online as digital files. He blocks you for a good five minutes.

You're each other's wallpaper. Surprisingly, Rafayel asked to do it. You spent hours finding the perfect pose and recreating trending ones. Rafayel insisted on multiple retakes.

You were rafayel's missing piece. To him, you were the only thing that he has ever wanted in his life. He loved you dearly and a part of him was terrified that you don't reciprocate the same level of love as he does to you; but lo and behold, fate has given him a blessing after all those years of loneliness. His heart swoons at the very sight of your actions. You were clingy, that was factually true but the same goes for him. Nothing makes him more fulfilled than seeing you both think and love in the same wavelength.

Sylus:

His base has become your home. On days off, you often find yourself in one of three rooms: his bedroom, where you lie on his bed, tapping away on your phone or laptop; his kitchen, where the chef cooks whatever you want in exchange for listening to his stories from his little village; or the lobby, where Luke and Kieran update you on the most boring things in the building. Sylus doesn't mind at all; it's less work for Mephisto, and he can keep an eye on you.

Sylus's sleep schedule is the same as that of those in Linkon City. His days begin in the evenings, often leaving you lying in the big bed alone. Sylus is nearby or at his desk if he's not out on the streets. You like hugging his pillow because it smells like his 3-in-1 shampoo. If he's out on late-night trips, you selfishly steal his shirt from the closet, wear it on the pillow, and hug that to sleep, forcing yourself to be satisfied with what you got.

His lap is your chair. It doesn't matter where he's sitting; you always find yourself on him. Sylus sometimes complains about his thighs going numb, but when you leave, he yanks you back, positioning you between his legs, with your butt on the chair instead of his thigh. He goes back to his work as if nothing happened, occasionally sparing you a kiss on the forehead or rubbing his face against yours. If not, you shower his chest and neck with light pecks before snuggling into the crook of his neck.

His biceps are nice to the touch. On dates to the city, while waiting in line, you squeeze his muscles for entertainment, even through his thick leather jacket. He flexes for a minute before relaxing, amused at how easily you entertain yourself.

The boyfriend shirt phenomenon is common. You don't leave the base wearing his clothes, but you certainly walk around the area in them. Whether a turtleneck, a black blouse, or just a plain shirt, you're always wearing his clothes, even in his company.

You're an eccentric one, thats for sure. Sylus never truly got ahold of how you managed to change from being so distant to practically being glued to him. It was like he partnered up with a whole new different person. He wasn't complaining at all if anything, he found it admirable and a part of him was quietly relieved that time did all the adjusting between you and him. Despite being a bit too fussy at times, he'd be more than willing to compromise if that's what makes you happy.

Xavier:

You always steal his hoodies. They're big, soft, and smell like him, so you have two or three at home. Xavier scratches his head when he notices bare hangers in his closet. When you visit, he finally sees what's missing. No matter how many hoodies and jackets he buys for you, you always get your hands on his, almost becoming a problem. Now, he rotates his jackets, giving them to you on schedule.

Xavier's hair is too soft to be human. When he's on your lap, you massage his scalp and fidget with the ends of his silver hair. If you have hair elastics and a cute clip nearby, he ends up with his hair tied up or braided. He needs your help to take it off because it's too painful for him to do alone. Oops?

You prefer sitting beside him rather than across from him at a table. He didn't understand at first because he wanted to face you when eating. But when he's beside you, he slowly gets it. You like touching him one way or another. You enjoy your elbows touching or your thighs grazing each other. It's also convenient to lean slightly and rest your head on his shoulder.

Xavier loves bathing with you. The bathtub in his apartment is big enough for both. He likes the smell of your bath bombs and is sometimes fascinated by the toys or mini jewelry inside. Your back always presses against him, and he willingly holds you. On more stressful days, you light candles and open some cheap wine to enjoy in rose-covered water.

He's riddled with bite marks, even when not having sex. He's dozing off when you suddenly find his arm or leg appetizing. He jolts awake and tries to shake your grip, but it's too tight. When you've had enough, he stares at your work of art and wipes his saliva-coated limb. You grin, watching him wipe your fluids. Because of the frequency, he rarely lets his consciousness drift away when his bare arms and legs are around you.

When bathing alone, you use his shampoo instead of yours. It's surprising he doesn't use all-in-one shampoo and body wash; he uses baby shampoo. When confronted, he shrugs, saying it does the job, and recalls you like playing with his hair. His perfume and powder are also for babies.

In the eyes of Xavier, you were adorable even if your actions were questionable. You were cute, and he never once thought that your actions were a burden or suffocating. The things you do, the way you speak they were all precious in his eyes and Xavier understands that this was you way of showing your love for him. Because of that, he tolerates you every time you bite him.

Your gallery is full of his pictures. Candid photos you secretly take daily. Your favorite is when his cheeks are full of food, resembling a hamster. You take pictures when he's asleep, using you as a pillow. Sometimes, you're both looking at the camera, making random faces.

Author footnotes: I'm sorry if these were pretty general. I'm not the clingy type so I don't know how these type of people act but I wrote it with the things I observed from films and tiktok lol

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

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hairmetal666 · 4 months ago

Text

After the Russians, Steve learns three important things about himself:

Robin is the best friend he's ever had; the uncontested other half of his heart. His soulmate, the platonic love of his life, his missing puzzle piece.

He's not in love with Nancy anymore. It's really saying something that hearing those words come out of his mouth is the shock of his life. Once the drugs wear off, though, he realizes they were absolutely true. A surprising win for the Russian truth serum

Her bathroom confession...he sits with it for days. Not--not because she's a lesbian, of course not, but because. Well, Robin knows herself in a way he's never allowed himself to. And he thinks that maybe maybe he likes boys in the same way. That he always has, but never let himself acknowledge it, the way his eyes wanted to catch in the locker room, the drunken, fumbling touches between him and Tommy.

The last one...he's not sure, is the thing. How can he be sure? Like, in his mind, his imagination, he's very into it, but what if it's different in real life? And how can he even find out? He tells, Robin, of course he does, and they go to Indy, right, to a bookstore and she throws a few zines at him and he sneaks some porn (he's definitely into the porn), but that's not--it's not practical experience. And he's not ready to go to one of the bars, for sure, so he doesn't--like what's he supposed to do?

It's around this time in his bisexual spiral that the kids start hanging out with Eddie Munson, that he starts thinking about Eddie Munson. He always noticed the long, dark curls and the bright, brown eyes; the slender cut of his waist; the wry slant of his mouth as he shouted insults at the jocks; the glinting silver of the rings on his fingers--fingers that were long and callused, fingers that could grip around Steve's--

Nope, he's not going there. Even though, a little voice in his head says, he cares for Steve's kids and maybe he's not good at school but he's smart and he's also so pretty, with his pale skin and his big eyes--

No. He doesn't have a crush on Eddie Munson. Absolutely not.

And when he picks up the kids from their little dnd club and sees Munson standing against his van, he doesn't feel an electric zing in his chest, the first stirring of butterflies in his stomach; that would be crazy. They hardly know each other. It goes like this every time, and he's almost able to believe he doesn't care.

Until Eddie trips over the threshold of Family Video, stumbling on an untied bootlace and gangling his way through the front doors. The clatter catches both Robin and Steve's attention.

"Welcome to Family Video," Robin says. Steve stares.

"Uhh." Eddie's eyes flit between them, his face getting redder by the second.

Fuck, he's so cute and Steve's saying--without thinking about it, he's saying--"let me help you find a movie, man."

"Yea--sure, yeah." Eddie's hands are stuffed in the tight pocket of his jeans.

Steve takes a few steps down the closest aisle. "So, what--uh, what are you looking for?"

"Horror? Nothing in particular."

They make their way to the horror section, and it's like some insane, deeply horny demon takes over. He starts grabbing movies off the shelf, no rhyme or reason, doesn't even know what most of them are.

Eddie's staring at him with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, and Steve just keeps grabbing tapes, is sort of doing a running commentary on titles and tag lines, and he can't stop, why can't he stop? it's like smoke is coming out of his ears. Robin is watching him from the counter with her mouth hanging open, gummy worm dangling down her chin.

"You know," Eddie grabs something from the shelf, "I think I'll just do Friday the 13th again. Can't go wrong."

And he leaves Steve standing there with half the horror section collected in his arms. He stays there while Eddie pays, face burning. It's been--well, a really long time since he's struck out so hard, and he wasn't even really trying.

As Eddie's walking out the door, his sad pile of movies shifts, then tumbles to the floor.

"You have a crush on Eddie Munson." Robin accuses.

"No!" He ducks down to collect the tapes, hoping to hide the crimson of his face.

"You do." She points an accusatory finger in his direction. "I haven't seen you this pathetic since Scoops."

"It's nothing."

"You know," she crouches down with him, "you could just, like. Try to hang out with him."

"After that? Are you kidding? I'm surprised you don't already have a new You Rule/You Suck board going."

"Oh, I do, it's up front." She jumps to her feet. "But still. You should try. And you have an easy in with the kids."

He glares at her in response, starts re-shelving all the dumb movies, and then they get busy, so the topic is dropped. He thinks about it thought. He thinks about it and he--

Instead of waiting in the car for the kids to get done at Hellfire the next time, he goes in.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #robin buckley #pre-steddie #platonic stobin #ficlet #fluff #meet cute #feelings realization #steve has a crush on eddie #sexuality discovery #bisexual steve harrington #post season 3 #family video shenanigans #bisexual disaster steve harrington #the you rule you suck board returns

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charliemwrites · 7 months ago

Text

Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

“I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

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Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #misters steal your girl #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #Brandon the crash dummy

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babygorewhore · 4 months ago

Text

I’m in control

Cooper Adams x fem reader

Working at an arena definitely had its benefits. Getting free concert tickets and discounts for family members. Your employers prepare you for the arrival of the famous serial killer the Butcher but you have no idea how close he actually is.

Warnings! Light thigh riding! Fingering! Finger sucking! Age gap! Reader is mid twenties and he’s in his mid forties! Requested by anon! W.C 1.3k

Yall I saw this movie and I’m obsessed with him. Sorry not sorry. Be gentle this is my first fic with him and I think maybe the first one with this character.

“Don’t forget I won’t be able to take you home until everyone is gone and everything is cleaned up!” You call after your younger sister. Her recent graduation of high school rewarded her a up close and personal experience at this concert. She waves off your reminder as you roll your eyes and stand around the VIP area.

You didn’t mention to her that today was supposed to be the arrest of the serial killer The Butcher. It gave you shivers to hear about his crimes during your staff meetings. Preparation for any sort of confrontation brought tension to your shoulders all day as you worked. This job supported you in nursing school and gave you access to concerts. It was a win win.

You sighed and watched people walk by. Every male was to be stopped and questioned by the police. It was dull if you were being honest. It was going to be a while before you were able to leave so you decided to kill some time in a private room.

You blinked in surprise when you opened the door to see a man already in there. He was tall, really tall and muscular. Wearing a sweater, yellow jacket and jeans. You had seen him briefly earlier with a teenage girl, assuming it was his daughter. He was roughly in his forties you guessed. Handsome. Very handsome. Enough to give you awkward pause before you cleared your throat.

“Excuse me, sir. This is for employees only. Can I help you with something?” You tried to keep your voice steady as he loosened a huff of laughter.

“Ah, I’m sorry I know I’m not allowed to be back here. But I have to be honest. The police are making me nervous. My daughter she was really looking forward to this concert and I’m just worried for her safety.”

His tone seemed genuine but there was a darkness in his brown eyes that made you feel alert. You nodded slowly as he took a step forward with a gentle smile. “So…have they caught him yet?”

Your pulse quickens and you part your lips to answer but the stranger chuckles again.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what’s going on, sugar. I know they’ve given every employee the rundown of the big scary Butcher. And I can tell you’re just…aching to tell someone what you know.” When he said the word, “aching.” He glanced down at your legs.

“Sir, I-i really don’t-“ He clicked his tongue, resting both hands on either side of your head, you could smell his cologne from his close proximity as he pressed you against the door.

“No need for formalities, sweetheart. I just want you to answer one question.”

You were afraid and…aroused as he leaned down and whispered in your ear. “How can I avoid the police?”

Your body trembled when he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. What the fuck was happening? You gasped as the stranger’s large hand moved down and cupped your waist.

“I-I don’t know-you can’t avoid them-“ You stutter as he shakes his head, nudging his thick thigh in between your legs. His size was massive as he was holding you up.

“I don’t think that’s true. The tension in your body tells me you’re lying. I’m good at spotting liars, baby.” You whimper as he encourages you to rub your covered cunt on his knee.

“Really, sir I don’t know. I’m not a manager or anything. I’m just a normal worker and we were told to just be careful and use the code word.” You pleaded as he sets both hands on your hips, guiding them to move harder and higher on his thigh. “No, no, there’s nothing normal about you. You know something. You’re smart and you’re going to tell me.” His voice indicated no room for argument and you were too distracted by the coiling in your stomach to argue.

“You’d have to be with the singer. She has to-“You moaned as he finally slipped his hand inside your pants, pushing aside your underwear with a nod. His fingers grazed your clit and you whined as he gave your pussy a smack.

“She has to what? Use your words, baby doll. I know you can do it.”

All common sense left your brain as he worked in two fingers inside you, curling them deep as you panted and leaned your head back. You had no idea what was happening, who this guy was or why he wanted to know. But you lost yourself and whined.

“She has to tell them you’re with her. She has her own security so-you’ll be clear-oh god.” You squealed as he gripped your chin, continuing to fuck you with his fingers as he forced you to look him in the eye.

“Very good. I’ve had…a long day. And I just can’t waste any more time with the fucking police.” He whispered, hovering over your mouth.

Your climax was nearing as he shoved his fingers impossibly deeper, almost painfully but he balanced it by massaging your clit with his thumb. Your eyes watered as he wrapped the hand holding your chin around your throat.

That sent you over the edge as you came all over his fingers. Your entire body heated as you moaned and dug into his shoulders as he fingered you through it.

Slowly, you came down from your high and breathed heavily as he slowly pulled out his hand. The stranger brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, shoving them in as he forced you to suck them clean. Your eyes were wide and teary as you stared at his dark smile.

“Thank you so much for your help. It’s nice to see employees taking their job seriously.” He smoothed his hair back as you shook. He removed his fingers and gently side stepped you.

He opened the door and you inhaled while blinking away any left over shock. “Wait! You didn’t even tell me your name!”

The man stopped and turned around. Horror chilled your blood as he gave you a wink and started walking away. You knew in that moment exactly who you just helped.

The Butcher.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @redhead1180 @nemesyaaa @oceandriveab @gothcsz @sararuno @horrorpiggy @lovalova444

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astrolovecosmos · 24 days ago

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How to Get in Touch with Your North Node

Aries NN: Play more games or join more competitions. Make a list of YOUR wants and needs. Go see a movie alone or do more errands alone to exercise independence. Allow yourself to experience anger and passion. Work on healthy anger management tools and skills. Embrace change and the new. Take action more. Don't be afraid to be a little more impulsive. Make a vision board. Focus on your interests from when you were much younger.

Taurus NN: Do some spring cleaning - and even more so, throwing away. Sit or lay on the ground more. How can you enjoy or incorporate nature into your life more? Forgive yourself from times you were tricked, betrayed, or made an ignorant decision. Practice routine. Take time to disconnect from social media. Address your insecurities in a direct or even tangible way. Remember to see the beauty and strengths in yourself. Lean into resourcefulness.

Gemini NN: Try journaling. Read - read - read. Appreciate or accept your inner child, your flaws, your insecurities. If you can't be honest with a friend, partner, or family member reconsider your boundaries with them. Speak your mind more often. Be open to changing your opinions. Take technology breaks. Yet a meditation or self-care app may be useful. Explore different methods of self-expression. Speak as much as you listen and vice versa. Try something new often.

Cancer NN: Take your mental health seriously. Self-care is worth it. Cook a new recipe or learn how to cook. Practice self-awareness/introspection more often. Consider therapy or self-help books and media. Appreciating and finding strength in your soft side will be a needed challenge. Taking care of something even if it is a plant or pet can be fulfilling. Listen to your intuition. Practicing gratitude and giving can be helpful. Go where you feel safe!

Leo NN: Always schedule time for enjoyment, pleasure, hobbies, indulgence. Hike. Spoil yourself but be sure to spoil others too. Go out to more parties and events. Channel your passion and anger into productivity. Stretch and practice yoga. Do breathing exercises. Get up early more often. Make art - create something. Be open minded to romance and/or affection. Take pride in yourself and life.

Virgo NN: Practice more realism and/or humility. Take part in puzzles, riddles, and anything that uses logic or critical thinking. Tap into your society's common sense and norms that can be most helpful to you. Volunteer or take part in charities. Be part of a team somehow. Reexamine your relationship with work. Surprise someone you care about with a gift, favor, trip, etc. Recognize your talents and skills. Learn a new skill or work on improving a craft. Practice healthy eating and exercise habits!

Libra NN: Be more mindful and selective of who you befriend and date. Practicing self-love is a must. Return favors often. Spend more quality time with that person you haven't seen lately. Be open to frequent date nights, couples counseling, couple events, and double dates if you have a partner. Balance alone time with social time. Get in touch with your romantic and artistic side. Practice objectivity when you can. Don't compare yourself to others. Embrace independence but don't forget to also embrace giving and receiving in relationships.

Scorpio NN: INTROSPECTION NEEDED. Distance yourself from media or people that cause anger, frustration, or heavy sadness or doubt. Self-control is important to practice. Don't lie to yourself! Journal, maybe try a dream journal. Don't underestimate your intuition. Go out in nature. Try something new based on your hunches. Examine yours and others intentions closely. Celebrate the small wins. Get out of your head and get out of your own way. Focus on your goals. Practice and enforce self-respect.

Sagittarius NN: Don't be afraid to explore beliefs and ideals that are very different from yours. Practice independence. Take a few more risks. Give yourself a pep talk. Try power poses. Stick to your morals and your gut. Be honest. Look at the big picture more often. Knowledge is power should be your motto. Learn something new. Speak confidently. Practice authenticity. Try to be present. Make a plan to accomplish small goals and eventually move onto larger goals.

Capricorn NN: Speak up more in meetings! Try going for that promotion or position. Understand the power and importance of money and materialism. Practice self-control and self-discipline. Be more patient. Study or look into history, economics, investments, politics, or business. Work on your boundaries actively. Practice decisiveness when you can. Put yourself first responsibly. Question authority often. Make moves that are more thoughtful or strategic. Pay attention to who supports you and who doesn't. Avoid rushing. Work on trusting yourself.

Aquarius NN: Understand and accept other's intentions. Let go of unhealthy attachments. Practice independence often. Explore themes of rebellion and empowerment. Practice cooperation. Don't resist change. Materialism is not your friend. Try to find what inspires you and be around it often. Cultivating healthy friendships is important. Explore unconventional ideas. Face the unknown when you can. Look at the big picture. Laugh when you can. Practice more tolerance.

Pisces NN: Tapping into your beliefs and exploring spirituality or religion is a major theme. Embrace sensitivity, empathy, and kindness. Give when you can. Don't just relate to others - see yourself in them. Find beauty in yours and others' flaws. Take the scenic route. Practice self-reflection. Practice flexibility and leave behind energy-draining goals or pursuits that don't offer personal fulfillment. Idealism and positive thinking can be helpful at times. Honestly... get lost in yourself or even another sometimes, just remember to come back up to the surface.

#north node #zodiac #astrology #nodes #natal chart #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #growth

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idyllic-ghost · 4 days ago

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Title: A Helping Hand - Part Two Pairing: office worker!Mingyu x office worker!fem!reader Genre: office romance, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, coworkers-with-benefits Wordcount: 11.6k Rating: 18+

Synopsis: Your usually bitter coworker becomes your hero during a train ride home, and your strict work-relationship changes... is it for the better or the worst?

Warnings: mentions of nyctophobia (afraid of the dark) and social anxiety, nsfw content (MDNI), public sex,

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

MDNI: Adults only. Minors are not allowed. Any minors found will be blocked.

A/N: this fic was created before i decided to leave this blog permanently, and put on queue to be posted now. this blog is still not active. read here to find out why

Masterlists

Read part one here

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Mingyu had made it his mission to find every possible way to make your life miserable, seemingly for no reason. One morning, you walked into your morning meeting right on time, only to discover that he had moved the meeting to another room at the last minute, causing you to arrive late. It was always petty, small things that your superiors could easily overlook. His antics were infuriating, and yet, on the rare days when he didn’t pull something, you found yourself believing that he might change. Wishful thinking, perhaps. Despite how annoyed Kim Mingyu could make you, you couldn’t deny that you found him incredibly attractive—especially not when he gave you every opportunity to check him out.

Mingyu's wardrobe consisted exclusively of tight button-ups and form-fitting trousers. Each day, he strutted into the office in yet another stylish and flattering outfit. His walk was confident, bordering on a swagger. If it was chilly, he wore a coat over his suit; if it was warm, he tossed his suit jacket over his shoulder and rolled his sleeves messily up to his elbows. It was the kind of thing you’d expect to see in a French romantic movie—elegant clothes, subtle showing off, and fiery glances.

Things only got more complicated after he stopped tormenting you. That morning, you came into the office a little late. You had missed your first alarm, and of course, the train you took had to shut down. You ran into the office, stopping by your desk to grab a few papers for the meeting. To your surprise, there was a yellow post-it note stuck on your papers. "Meeting moved to room 504," it said. You recognized Mingyu’s handwriting from all the documents you had seen him sign.

Despite the possibility that he could be playing a joke on you, you decided to trust the note—and, sure enough, the meeting had been moved. When you walked into the meeting, which had only just started, Mingyu sent you a smile. Not the usual evil smirk but a genuine smile. After apologizing for being late and making a small comment about train trouble, you sat down.

Since the incident on the train home a few weeks ago, things had been different. The station had been packed, making it impossible not to stand close to him, or anyone else. Air wouldn’t reach the bottom of your lungs, your muscles tensed up, and a lump formed in your throat. You tried to close your eyes and do breathing exercises, but it had no effect. When the train arrived, Mingyu walked close behind you as you were practically pushed through the doors. As your heartbeat quickened to an alarming pace, Mingyu grabbed your arm and led you to a secluded corner of the train. He shielded you from the crowd with his body, giving you enough space to breathe.

While that was comforting, albeit a little embarrassing, it got worse when the train had a minor accident. The sudden and aggressive brake would have thrown you across the train, seeing as you had nothing to hold onto, but Mingyu’s strong arm wrapped around your waist. He held both of you upright by gripping tightly onto the railing. Instinctively, you hugged him to keep yourself steady but tried to pull away as soon as the train stopped. Just a second later, the lights went out, and Mingyu gripped you tighter. Your head was pressed against his chest, and you could hear his quickened heartbeat. He was scared of the dark. You stayed in place, letting him squeeze you against him—pretending not to notice his shaking hands.

When the train started up again, you both acted like nothing had happened. However, ever since that day, your work relationship with Mingyu has changed. He was kind to you for once; he helped you out when you had a lot of work to do, he had lunch with you, and he left you little notes about last-minute changes in plans. Was he scared you’d tell people he was afraid of the dark? Were all of his kind acts some sort of backward blackmail? Despite these questions, your view of Mingyu began to shift.

You still watched him walk into the office every morning, like a predator stalking its prey. But now, instead of a quick glance, Mingyu would turn to you and greet you with a warm smile. When he tried to strike up a conversation, you pretended to be busy—which wasn’t difficult, since you actually were busy. Although your coworker had suddenly become a big part of your day, your most important task was to get all of your work done by the end of the month.

So you found yourself staying late at work, just happening to pick the same day as Mingyu to do overtime. Neither of you said anything to each other, you didn’t even notice that everyone had left except for him until you stood up to stretch out your stiff limbs. As soon as you spot him on the other side of the desk, his face lit up by his monitor, you jump back with a loud yelp. Mingyu breaks out into a big grin as he tries to hold back his laughter. You try to fix your disheveled-looking self, having taken out your stress on your physical appearance while working.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Working,” he answered. “What else?”

“You’re so-” You sat back down in your chair with a groan and rubbed the tiredness from your eyes. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Mingyu peaked at you from behind his monitor.

No wonder you hadn’t seen him before. Despite the man being over six feet, and bigger than most men in the office, he wasn’t bigger than the giant monitors that your office had gotten you. He had to stretch, just ever so slightly, to get his eye-line over the edge of the monitor. You narrowed your eyes at him, any of your normal social capabilities had flown out the window as soon as you stayed in the office past five o’clock.

“You’re wrong,” you muttered, “I do. Leave me alone.”

“You’re the one who interrupted me,” Mingyu argued.

You stayed quiet, long enough for Mingyu to return to whatever he was doing on his computer. An irritation bubbled up your throat as comebacks and retorts whirred around your brain. However, your brain was already tired and so, while you wanted to respond with a jaw-dropping comment, all you could do was huff and sigh. Looking at the clock, you realize how late it was. If you started going home now you wouldn’t get there until very late, which meant you’d want to sleep in just a little extra.

You closed the things you had been working on to pull up your schedule - of course, you had an early morning meeting. A meeting where you had to prepare a few copies of the new agenda you had been working on. If you printed them now, you’d still be able to sleep in. With a new surge of motivation, you clicked print on your document and hurried over to the office printer. It stood in the corner of the room, mostly gathering dust since you were one of the few who still used it.

You could feel Mingyu’s eyes burning holes in your back, but you refused to look back. Everything went smoothly, the printer started and you scanned your tag so that it could print out your papers. However, as you pressed on the document you wanted to print, it stopped. You cursed under your breath as you kicked the side of the machine - it didn’t help, of course. You sighed and put your forehead against your palm. By now you could’ve had the copies on your desk in a neat pile, walking out of here and leaving Mingyu in the dust. As if he could read your thoughts, you felt the tall man come up from behind you. He looked over your shoulder and let out a low whistle.

“This is why you should just send out digital copies,” he murmured next to your ear, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine.

“You use the printer, too.” You try not to move, if you did you’d end up backing into his broad chest - and you could not be reminded of how good it felt to have him press you against him during that train ride.

“Ah, but I know how to push its buttons.”

At this point, you thought he must have been teasing you—pushing your buttons. Mingyu reached around you, his arms encapsulating you against the machine, and with one hand he pressed a few buttons to get the machine starting again - the other just rested on the printer. His face was right next to yours now, his entire body was practically engulfing you despite his skin never quite touching yours.

The hand that had held your head up now came down to lay on your chest as if it could help keep your heartbeat down. You didn’t know if it was his body heat, or if you were actually able to create this much warmth on your own, but you were getting increasingly hot under your work clothes. The printer beeped in approval of Mingyu’s touch, and your breath hitched in your throat at the sudden sound. Your papers started printing, but Mingyu didn’t move. He put his hands down on the hard plastic, keeping you caged in.

“See? Not that hard,” he hummed.

“I guess not.” You tried to swallow the clump that had built up in your throat, but it was an impossible feat.

For some reason, you turned your head to look at him. At your movements, he also shifted to look at you. His eyes drifted to your lips before he caught himself and looked back at your eyes. His gaze was heavy, and you almost couldn’t hold eye contact - at the same time it was thrilling and, like driving past a car crash on the highway, you couldn’t look away. It was as if his eyes were begging you for something, you just couldn’t figure out what.

His breath fanned against your lips, reminding you of how close he was. Your lips parted, as you were about to say something, but the beeping sound of the printer being done broke the tension. Mingyu grumbled something under his breath, but you couldn’t hear it over the happy, unaware, printer noises. He moved away from you, gathering all of your papers and handing them to you. As you took the papers from his hands, your hand brushed against his and sparks ran from your fingertips through the rest of your body. This was bad.

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I’ll be heading out now…”

“Let me walk you,” Mingyu offered a little bit too quickly.

The cold air outside the building was a blessing in disguise. You were shivering, but at least you got the opportunity to cool down. You could barely speak to him, only making short comments here and there - and he did the same. Despite the cooling air, the tension was still there. Had he wanted to kiss you before? Was he sleep-deprived or something?

The train ride wasn’t any better, but at least you had a reason to be silent. He offered you the last seat on the train, opting to stand and hold onto the strap handle right in front of your seat. You kept your eyes on your lap for the entire ride, only looking up when you had to get off the train at your stop. As you exited the station, you quickly said goodbye and walked in different directions. When you came home, you quickly took off your work clothes, and washed your face, before making yourself a quick, and a little sad, dinner. Then, finally, you got to throw yourself into bed and hide away from everything that had to do with Kim Mingyu…

When you walked into the office the next morning, you were the only one there. You walked over to your desk, smiling at the neat pile of papers on your desk. Seeing as you had arrived so early, you went over to the coffee machine and made yourself a cup. As you waited, you turned around to lean against the counter only to see Mingyu sitting by his desk right in front of you. He was turned towards you, his usually neat hair now a mess, and the top three buttons of his shirt were undone - the light blue one, that fit him like a glove, and that he had matched with the navy blue slacks. He was slightly slouching in his chair, his legs spread out wide.

“Oh! You scared me…” You let out a breath and tried to laugh the situation off.

One of his hands beckoned you over and, for whatever reason, you obeyed. You were right in front of him, standing in between his legs. He looked up at you with big, puppy-like eyes and patted his thigh. Suddenly, you were naked and straddling his lap - riding him. As you kept bouncing up and down on his thick cock, his hands were traveling all over your body. You gripped onto his nice shirt, wrinkling the material.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he moaned. “Fuck yeah, keep going…”

As your legs grew tired, your movements got sloppy. Mingyu noticed and picked you up with ease. With one swipe of his hand, he pushed everything off his desk to lay you down on it. His fingers gripped your hips, so tight that they must have left marks, as he slammed into you. All of his clothes were gone now, his bare chest and rippling abs on display for you.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby? You can do that, can’t you?” His voice was condescending, but you didn’t have it in you to bite back.

You moaned out his name, as your orgasm approached quickly…which is when you woke up.

You sat straight up in bed. The sun was trying its best to get through your blinds, and your clock said 6:14 am - sixteen minutes away from your alarm. You let out a shaky breath, gripping the sheets tightly as if it could help you get rid of your thoughts. It was impossible. Images of Mingyu’s blissed-out expression were ingrained into your skull. With little to no shame left in you, you reached over to your bedside table and took out the vibrator you had hidden in the second drawer.

When you got to work that morning, you went straight for the kitchen. Unlike in your dream, the coffee machine was not in the office space - yet another unrealistic thing, you thought, so you shouldn’t pay any attention to it at all. Right? You took out a cup from the cupboard and poured yourself a large cup of black coffee.

It was when you heard his laugh that you realized that you couldn’t logic yourself out of this. Did he know? Could he suddenly read minds? You turned around to see him talking with a few of your colleagues. Always the social butterfly. He was wearing the same outfit he had in your dream, the sleeves of his blue button-up deliciously rolled up to his elbows—showing off his veiny hands and arms—because of course he had to wear that today. He was too attractive for his own good. When he noticed you staring, he smiled and waved. You sent him a small smile and quickly left the room.

This was just because you had snooped around on his Instagram once or twice, you convinced yourself. He really should stop posting photos of his vacations or of him in the gym—posting half-naked pictures of yourself shouldn’t be allowed… at least not for him. You picked up the neat paper pile from your desk, suddenly remembering last night’s incident again. Kim Mingyu needed to get the fuck out of your head.

You were first in the meeting room, putting out papers on everyone’s desk before sitting down in your usual seat. A few minutes later, the rest of the team walked in - including Mingyu. He sat down right in front of you, and you felt like dying when he tried to get your eye contact again. The meeting started, and your supervisor thanked you for the documents. After telling her that it was no big deal, you didn’t speak for the rest of the meeting. You barely even noticed, you just nodded and laughed whenever everyone else did—none of the words they said processed in your brain, as it was far too busy trying to not think about having sex with Kim Mingyu. Which is why when he said your name, you almost flew out of your chair.

“Sorry, what?” You did your best to compose yourself while your colleagues snickered.

“You can do that, can’t you?” he repeated.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby? You can do that, can’t you?”

You wanted to hide under the table, desperate to hide the way your face started heating up.

“Book a dinner at the restaurant?” he added when he saw you hesitate to answer.

“Oh, sure.” You cleared your throat. “... which restaurant?”

The rest of your team laughed again, someone commenting on how you should start getting more sleep. You had slept. You had slept wonderfully, in fact, but you couldn’t tell them that. Your supervisor told you that she’d write the name down for you and that you just had to call and check if they had anything open for a party of 25—the number of people working on the company’s latest project. You quickly agreed and accepted the note from her.

The week couldn’t go any slower, but eventually, you got to Friday. You had called the restaurant and booked it up for the following week, and you had finished all of your tasks. Everything was looking up for you, and the dream of Mingyu was hidden in the back of your brain. Although, you couldn’t help but try to avoid him. It was difficult enough to look him in the eye, let alone have a conversation with him. The most you could do was sit silently at your desk while he worked at his desk right in front of you, and even that was difficult.

Mingyu picked up on your weird behavior during that first meeting and immediately got worried that he had gone too far by the printer. He tried talking to you, but it was impossible. You always found an excuse to avoid him - whether it was another colleague calling your name, that he couldn’t hear, or if you had extra work you had to get done. Now, at the end of the week, he knew that you had finished all of your work as your boss had just praised you for it in front of him.

The next time Mingyu tried to talk to you, you were standing in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee machine to finish brewing. The rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air, and the gentle hum of the machine was oddly soothing. Mingyu approached his presence immediately setting your nerves on edge.

“Hey,” he said, his tone casual yet expectant.

You felt a pang of panic and quickly blurted out, “Oh, I just remembered—I forgot something in the storage room.”

Without waiting for his response, you abandoned your half-filled coffee cup on the counter and hurried out of the kitchen, your heart racing.

Mingyu watched you go, frustration was evident in his eyes. He had had enough of your evasions. Determined to get to the bottom of things, he followed you to the storage room.

When he walked in, the dim lighting cast long shadows over the stacks of boxes and shelves. He found you standing in a corner, nervously picking at your fingernails. You weren’t searching for anything; instead, you were doing absolutely nothing to find the supposed item you had forgotten. Your eyes were fixed on the floor, and your shoulders were tense, betraying your unease.

“What are you doing here?” you asked quickly.

“I need to talk to you.” Mingyu walked closer to you, and you had nowhere to go except to press yourself against the wall.

“No, you don’t,” you peeped.

“Did I do something?”

“No-”

“Then what’s your problem with me? Why are you ignoring me?”

“Mr. Kim-”

“Did I go too far by the printer? I’m sorry if I did- I really am, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wish we could talk about it-”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you interrupted.

“... then why have you been ignoring me?”

You scoffed and tried to argue that you actually hadn’t ignored him, it must have just seemed like it since you had been so busy. But Mingyu quickly caught onto your bullshit.

“Y/N, please. Talk to me.” He sighed. “I know I’ve been an ass to you, and I’m sorry, but I’ve been trying to make it up to you ever since the- the train…”

“Mr. Kim-”

“Mingyu,” he said, “please.”

“Mingyu… you didn’t do anything, I promise. I just…” How were you supposed to tell him that you had a dream about him fucking you and that you then masturbated to the thought of said dream? Yeah… maybe leave that last part out. Still, you owed him some sort of explanation.

“Has something happened? Did someone tell you something?” He sounded worried.

“No- no… I just had… a dream about you.” You practically whispered out the last part.

“A dream?” Not only was Kim Mingyu attractive, smart, and funny, but he apparently also had super-sonic hearing.

“Yeah… it’s awkward, I’m sorry. This is why I didn’t want to tell you-”

Instead of backing away, like you thought he would, he walked closer to you. Your back was against the cold wall now, you had nowhere to go unless you wanted to jump over an old table or crash through a shelf. Parkour was not your strong suit, and definitely not in heels, so you stayed in place.

“What was the dream about?” He was towering over you again, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“Mingyu, please…” you whined. “It was embarrassing enough to dream it, don’t make me say it out loud.”

“I want to know how you dream of me,” he said and put his arm on the wall behind you.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he inched closer to you. His forehead was almost touching yours. In his eyes, you could see that same heaviness that you felt the night you were doing overtime with him. You felt compelled to tell him, you had to see where this would lead.

“We were in the office.” Your eyes darted to his lips as he wet them with the tip of his tongue. “I had just arrived, and you were the only one there…”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed. “And then?”

“Then you beckoned me over to your desk and…” Your face flushed. “Please don’t make me say it, Mingyu.”

“I want to hear what I did to you for you to get so flustered.” He reached up to cup your face with the hand that wasn’t still on the wall behind you. “Come on, baby. Spit it out.”

“I fucked you in your office chair.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Then you had your way with me on your desk…”

“And did you cum, baby?” he muttered.

You couldn’t answer, the words stuck in your throat. He grinned and leaned his forehead against yours. The feeling of his, much colder, skin against your flustered face made your eyes flutter shut. Now that you couldn’t see him looking at you, you gathered up the strength to continue.

“I woke up before I could cum,” you admitted.

“What a shame…” He paused and watched as you bit down on your bottom lip. “Unless you took care of it afterward… did you touch yourself to the thought of me, baby?”

“Yes…” you breathed out.

“Good,” he murmured, “I’ve done it too.”

“You have?” You opened your eyes again.

“Believe me,” he said, “You’re not the only one with dirty dreams, sweetheart… Do you want me to make your dreams come true?”

You thought that you hadn’t heard him right, or that you were dreaming of him again. But when you nodded, and he leaned in, your breath hitched in anticipation. When his lips finally pressed against yours, the firm, demanding pressure confirmed that this wasn’t just a figment of your imagination.

His kiss was intense, igniting a primal hunger within you. The warmth of his mouth, the taste of him, was far better than any fantasy. Your hands instinctively gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate to feel more of him. Mingyu’s hands roamed your back, pressing you tightly against his body, the heat between you rising rapidly.

Every touch, every movement, fueled the fire inside you. The real Kim Mingyu was solid, warm, and undeniably present, far surpassing any wild thoughts your mind could conjure. This was raw, physical desire, a craving that demanded to be satisfied.

That’s how you ended up on the old table in the storage room, with Mingyu’s cock buried deep in your cunt. His strong hands gripped your waist hard, and he used that grip to mercilessly pound into you. The two of you had barely had time to take off your clothes properly; your pants were shoved down to your ankles, and your shirt pulled up to expose the swell of your breast, meanwhile, the bottom of Mingyu’s shirt was pulled between his teeth, keeping it out of the way for him to continue absolutely ruining you. Mingyu’s pants were pulled down just far enough for him to pull his dick out, and you hoped that his pants are dark enough to hide the stain that your juices are definitely leaving on him.

“Don’t stop-” you hissed out through gritted teeth.

While the storage unit was secluded, it wasn’t soundproof. You tried your best to contain all of your noises, but Mingyu seemed to have a mission to push all of your buttons until you were screaming his name. One of his hands traveled from your hip to your clit, where he furiously rubbed small circles over the bud. You were practically convulsing on the table at this point, clenching around him sporadically.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum-”

“Yes- shit- cum inside me,” you moaned.

The man above you lost his mind at your words, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he pushed his hips against yours. He came, and you soon followed him into paradise from his work on your clit. Mingyu’s form slumped over yours, his head lying by your shoulder. With a groan, he pulled out of you. Before his cum could trickle out of you, he pulled your panties and your pants back up.

“Don’t want you to make a mess and expose us, right?” he hummed. “Can you keep it in for me, baby?”

You couldn’t respond and only nodded yes. While you lay still on the table, Mingyu got dressed. The shuffling of his clothes slowly woke you up from your drowsed state, and you slowly sat up as you heard him buckling his belt. He had managed to tuck his wrinkly shirt into his pants, although it didn’t look as proper as it did this morning. He noticed you staring when he put the belt through the final hoop. Mingyu’s hair was a mess, probably from your relentless tugging on it, and his pupils were blown out.

“Do I look okay?” he asked with a small smile.

“You looked like you just got fucked in a storage room,” you deadpanned as you started fixing your clothes.

“I’m not the one who got fucked,” he argued, grinning wide.

“Don’t talk semantics with me right now.” You groaned.

As you stood up your legs were a little shaky, but, even worse, you could feel Mingyu’s cum dripping out of you and soiling your panties. The fact that you were getting turned on by it was something you didn’t dare say out loud. Mingyu’s cocky grin at your facial expression was embarrassing enough.

“Same time next week?” he joked.

“Fuck off.”

And yet, just a few days later, you were back in the storage room with Mingyu. It wasn’t your fault that he had a body sculpted by the gods, and possibly the best dick you’ve ever had. Despite hating him outside of this storage unit, you let yourself love the way his large hands manhandle you in that storage room. There’s always an urgency to Mingyu’s touch and you can’t tell if it’s because he wants to get it over with, or if he’s just that into you.

Every time you're free, from then on, you leave little post-it notes on his desk, and he does the same for you. Usually, it’s a question like “Got time?” or “Meet up later?”, but when one of you is feeling particularly needy—like when Mingyu decided to wear a tight-fitting t-shirt instead of his usual button-ups—you just write “five minutes”.

That wasn’t the only way the two of you got creative. Sometimes you didn’t make it all the way to the storage room, sometimes Mingyu would sneak you into a bathroom or a meeting room with curtains. After a few weeks of this, you’d been eaten out in your usual meeting chair, fucked against a bathroom mirror, and you had cum more times than you could count in that storage room.

At this point, you got embarrassed whenever your coworkers said they were going to the storage room - if only they knew. One of them almost found out once. You were unsure of who it was, but while Mingyu was eating you out in the storage room someone had tried to get in. The footsteps could be heard outside the door, and you had desperately tried to push Mingyu away. With a mischievous look in his eyes, he continued eating you out on the old, creaky, table. You didn’t try to fight it, instead throwing a hand over your mouth and hoping that the door was locked. Luckily for you, it was. Mingyu had known but said nothing to you at the moment. You punished him with ignoring his pleas for sex for a few days, before eventually giving in to your urges.

It’s late, and you’re still in the office—working overtime, just like the evening that it all started. You were sitting in front of your computer, still working on a current project that you had been procrastinating on. It wasn’t the fault of Mingyu; the frequent sex with him had, surprisingly, led to the two of you getting a better work ethic. Getting your frustrations out on each other worked wonders on your projects, to the point where your supervisor praised you both for the amount of work you had gotten done.

Mingyu sits by the desk in front of you, unlike you he is not working. He was watching you, and you knew it. You could feel him undressing you with his eyes—if it was one thing that he did like his life depended on it, it was getting horny by the slightest things. You had gotten slightly undressed; you had unbuttoned the top buttons on your shirt—it really only exposed your collarbones.

“Y/N,” Mingyu rasped.

“Not now, I’m still working,” you muttered.

He groaned, throwing his head back and bumping his head on the back of his chair. You chuckled, not taking your eyes away from your screen—yet, you knew that he was pouting. Still not looking up, you heard him get up and walk behind you. He placed his warm hands on your shoulders, the weight of them forced you to relax your stiff muscles. Gently, he started working his thumbs into your flesh.

“You could use a break,” he hummed.

“I have to get this done,” you said, trying to bite back the sounds Mingyu’s hands were beginning to pull out of you.

“Just quickly?” His voice was right by your ear now, and he bent further down to press a kiss to your neck. “I need you.”

“You always do.” You sighed, partially out of annoyance but also because Mingyu’s thumb had found a sore spot in your left shoulder.

“Ouch.” He chuckled. “I’ll remind you of that next time you want me.”

His hands traveled from the curve of your neck to your upper arms. As he loomed over you, encasing you completely, it got harder for you to breathe - your lungs would only fill halfway before you had to breathe out again. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his breath by your ear. Mingyu’s lips found your neck and he left soft pecks along your delicate skin.

“I’ll be in the meeting room,” he whispered in your ear.

Mingyu left your side, and a chill ran down your spine as his warmth left you with him. You were staring at your screen again, the light harsh on your eyes. With a frustrated sigh, you turned off the computer and stood up from your chair. You knew which meeting room Mingyu was talking about - because there was only one meeting room that didn’t have cameras or windows on the doors.

When you opened the door, you were met with the mouth-watering sight of Mingyu shrugging off his button-up - his muscles moving delicately under his skin. How he got so ripped, you will never know; you just assumed he had been blessed by some other-worldly creature. He looked over his shoulder with a cocky grin playing on his lips, his canines flashing.

“You came,” he said.

“You knew I would,” you answered.

He turned around to allow you to see an even more heavenly sight and as he walked toward you, you were at a loss for words. Mingyu’s hands easily found your waist as he pulled you in closer, still grinning about winning the game of your attention.

“Yeah, I did,” he murmured before pressing a kiss on your lips.

Your hands were on his chest in a matter of seconds, pushing him towards an empty chair - getting no protests from the man in front of you. When Mingyu sat down, you got on top of him. You straddled his lap and connected your lips again, as you began grinding against his crotch. The always needy Mingyu gripped you tighter, his hands being his only way of expressing his deep desire when your mouth was drowning out his whimpers. Your movements never stopped, but your lips traveled from his lips to his neck - allowing him to make whatever noises he needed to. As your fingertips explored his exposed chest, testing out what would bring the biggest reaction out of him, you felt him hardening against your clothed core.

The pencil skirt you were wearing had ridden up to sit on your hips, and Mingyu took the opportunity to grab your almost bare ass. You remember the first time you had worn this to the office - you always wore slack out of comfort, but ever since your escapades with your coworker, you had wanted to dress up more - and the image of Mingyu’s, almost pained, expression had been enough for you to keep wearing it, that and how rough he fucked you during the days you decided to tease him with it. Today was that kind of day, as you slid down from his lap and onto your knees on the floor.

“I’ll bring you coffee from the place across the street every morning, if you please suck me off right now,” Mingyu just about begged.

“I was already planning on doing that,” you murmured as you palmed him over his pants. “But I’ll take you up on that offer anyway.”

You went to unbuckle his pants, and Mingyu lifted his hips off immediately. Words of praise slipped out of your lips at his good behavior, and he let out a soft whimper - you would have to remember this for later. After pulling down his pants, you let your nails drag down his thighs. He was visibly hard through his underwear, and it made your mouth water. You palmed him again, peering up at him through your lashes as you did. Mingyu’s pupils were almost entirely covering his iris, his eyebrows knitted together, and his teeth biting down on his bottom lip to hold in his moans. You licked along his clothed cock before playing with the hem of his underwear.

“There’s no one else here,” you murmured. “Don’t hold back on me, baby.”

At your command, Mingyu let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding in - a soft moan coming out with it. He nodded and lifted his hips up again for you to pull off his underwear. His pretty cock slapped against his abdomen, and you took it in your hand to guide it back to your mouth. Pressing a sweet kiss to his tip had Mingyu shivering.

You noticed his hands gripping the armrests like his life depended on it, so - before you took him in your mouth - you had mercy on him and guided his hands to your head instead. Mingyu’s fingers entangled themselves in your hair as if he had done it a thousand times before. When you took him in your mouth, he gasped and whined - he tried to push his hips up, but you pushed him back down again. The part of his length you can’t take in your mouth, you stroke with your hand.

“Fuck, baby,” Mingyu moaned. “You’re going to be the death of me… please, let me cum on your tits this time? No one’s around to see it—”

You pop your mouth off his cock but keep stroking it with the same roughness and fast pace, enjoying watching him fall apart for you. “You’ll cum in my mouth or you won’t cum at all. I’m not walking home with stains on my shirt.”

Mingyu huffed, but couldn’t bring himself to complain. “... could I cum inside you?”

You looked up at him with a knowing smile. At this point, you were convinced he had a breeding kink of some sort—even if you were on birth control, the thought of cumming inside of you still made him go mad.

“Fine.” You stood back up.

Mingyu adjusted himself in his seat as you took off your panties. You pushed the wet fabric into his mouth, and he moaned around it. “To keep you quiet,” you said.

He always got so loud when you were riding him. You stayed clothed and got on his lap again. Mingyu’s hands settled on your hips while you guided his cock to your entrance. A satisfied sigh left your lips when you sank down on him. Grinding on him, you took your time to adjust to his size—which was driving Mingyu to insanity.

“Please.” His voice was muffled by the fabric of your underwear and he peered up at you with big, almost teary eyes.

You take pity on him—such a big, brawny man and he can’t bring himself to grip your hips and have his way with you—so, you start moving. It wasn’t always that he was like this, but you always enjoyed yourself thoroughly when he was. Mingyu groaned and rolled his eyes into the back of his head. His fingers grip your hips roughly but didn’t use his strength to move you to his will.

“Oh god–” He let out a muffled moan as you clenched around him.

You brought your hand up to his cheek and cooed at him. “Who makes you feel this good?”

“You.”

“That’s right. Good boy.” You smiled proudly and pressed your lips on his.

Mingyu hungrily responded, pushing forward in his chair and wrapping his strong arms around your frame to press you further against him. The chair creaked and croaked, but you paid no mind to it. All of your focus had to be on Mingyu.

“Cum for me, please?” you murmured against his lips.

Mingyu pulled away slightly to look into your eyes, but you never stopped moving. “Inside?”

“Inside.” You nodded.

For the first time this rendezvous, Mingyu took control of you. His hands picked you up so that he could start rutting up into you. You brought down one of your hands to rub your clit, determined to cum with him. You’re close. The coil in your stomach is about to snap, and when it does you see stars. Mingyu let out a groan as you spasmed around him, and spilled himself inside you. His arms are wrapped around you, holding you close while he comes down from his high.

When Mingyu leaned back, his breathing heavy, you found yourself still catching your breath. He took your panties out of his mouth, throwing them on his pile of clothes—no doubt planning on making you walk home without them. The rawness of your connection lingers in the air, charged with an electric tension. A sudden, unexpected stillness envelops the room. You feel Mingyu's warmth radiating against you. When you meet his gaze, you expect the teasing yet unattached Mingyu. But this time, there's something different in his eyes – a softness, a vulnerability that catches you off guard.

Before you could process the change, he gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch tender and deliberate. His thumb brushed a stray lock of hair from your cheek, and then, with a quiet sigh, he leaned in. The kiss was soft, lingering – a stark contrast to the fervor of just moments before. His lips pressed against yours with a chaste, almost reverent tenderness, conveying emotions words could never express.

In that instant, as his lips melded with yours in a delicate dance, a realization dawned upon you. This wasn’t just a fleeting affair or a simple coworkers-with-benefits arrangement. There was something deeper here, something profound and undeniable. The kiss ended, but the impact of it resonated within you, leaving you breathless and irrevocably changed.

Mingyu pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours as if silently asking if you felt it too. And as you looked at him, heart pounding, you knew that things between you would never be the same. You pulled back and stood up from his lap, the weight of the kiss heavy on your mind. Mingyu’s eyes, still soft with lingering tenderness, followed your every move.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice a gentle plea. “What’s wrong?”

You averted your gaze, focusing on the scattered papers on the table. “This… this wasn’t supposed to happen,” you stumbled over your words, your heart racing. “We agreed to keep things simple. No feelings, no complications.”

Mingyu stood up, his expression earnest. “I know, but…” He reached for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “That kiss… it meant something, didn’t it?”

You pulled your hand away, wrapping your arms around yourself defensively. “It can’t mean anything, Mingyu. We can’t afford to complicate things.”

His eyes searched yours, a mix of hope and vulnerability. “Why does it have to be complicated?”

You shake your head, taking another step back. “I can’t do this. I need to go.”

You paused at the door, glancing back at him. His eyes held a silent plea, but your own feelings are too tangled to unravel just yet.

You’ve been avoiding Mingyu since that day in the meeting room. The memory of his tender kiss haunted you, a constant reminder of the emotions you’ve been trying to suppress. At work, you kept your interactions strictly professional, dodging his attempts to talk. It was easier to bury your feelings beneath a facade of indifference.

Tonight, the team was out for dinner, a rare occasion meant to celebrate the completion of a big project. The restaurant was lively, filled with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. You sat at the end of the table, nursing your drink, and tried to appear engaged in the conversation around you. But your thoughts kept drifting back to Mingyu, seated just a few places away, his eyes occasionally flicking in your direction.

As the night progressed, you felt the effects of the alcohol more acutely. The room seemed to spin slightly, and you laughed a bit too loudly at a colleague’s joke. Just as you’re about to take another sip, you felt a presence beside you. It’s Mingyu.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low, trying not to draw attention.

You glanced up, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him so close. “Now’s not a good time,” you muttered, looking away.

“Please,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “Just a minute.”

With a sigh, you set your glass down and follow him to a quieter corner of the restaurant. He stopped near the entrance to the patio, the cool night air providing a brief respite from the crowded, warm interior.

“What do you want, Mingyu?” you asked, crossing your arms defensively.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with concern. “I want to know why you’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?”

You scoffed, the alcohol loosening your tongue. “Do something wrong? You kissed me, Mingyu. After everything, you kissed me like it meant something.”

“It did mean something,” he said softly, taking a step closer. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “We agreed this was just a physical thing. No feelings, no complications. And now you’re trying to change everything.”

“I’m not trying to change anything,” he replied, his voice steady. “I’m just being honest about how I feel.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to hear it,” you snapped, the words coming out harsher than you intended. “I can’t deal with this right now, Mingyu. It’s too much.”

The hurt in his eyes is unmistakable, but he doesn’t back down. “You’re pushing me away because you’re scared. But I’m not going anywhere. I care about you.”

“Stop it,” you say, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Just… stop.”

Without waiting for his response, you turned and walked back to the table, grabbing your drink and taking a big gulp. You could feel the weight of Mingyu’s gaze on you, but you refused to look up. The rest of the dinner was a blur, the alcohol doing little to numb the ache in your chest. You sat at the table, isolated despite the crowd around you, and tried to drown your sadness in drink after drink.

Mingyu stayed at the other end of the table, a silent presence that you can’t ignore. You knew he was giving you space, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Each sip of your drink felt like a futile attempt to erase the memory of his kiss, the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his eyes.

By the end of the night, you were too drunk to think straight, the world around you spinning as you stumbled to your feet. You lost count of how many glasses you downed in an effort to numb the confusing mix of emotions swirling inside you. The world around you has taken on a hazy, dreamlike quality, and your steps are unsteady as you attempt to stand.

Mingyu was beside you in an instant, his strong hands gripping your arms to keep you from toppling over. “Hey, easy there,” he says, his voice laced with concern. “You’re not looking too good.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, trying to shrug him off, but your legs betrayed you, wobbling beneath you.

“Let me take you home,” he offered, his grip tightening to support you.

“No,” you slurred, shaking your head stubbornly. “I can manage.”

Mingyu sighed, clearly unconvinced. “You can barely stand. You need help.”

“I don’t need help from you,” you snapped, the alcohol making your words sharper than intended. “I don’t even know you.”

His expression softened, a mix of hurt and understanding in his eyes. “I’m not a stranger. It’s Mingyu. Let me help you.”

You scoffed, still struggling against his hold. “Strangers can be named Mingyu too. I’m not telling a stranger where I live.”

He let out a resigned sigh, looking around the nearly empty restaurant. “Alright, if you won’t tell me where you live, I’ll take you to my place. You can sleep it off there.”

Too tired and drunk to argue further, you let him guide you out of the restaurant. The cool night air hits you like a splash of water, momentarily clearing your head. Mingyu kept a firm grip on you, his presence steady and reassuring as he led you to his car.

The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine a soothing background noise as you fought to keep your eyes open. Every so often, you stole glances at Mingyu, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. There was a determined set to his jaw, but his eyes flickered with concern whenever he looked your way.

When you arrived at his apartment building, he parked and helped you out of the car. The lobby was quiet, and the elevator ride up felt like it took forever. Mingyu kept an arm around you, ensuring you didn’t stumble.

Finally, you reached his apartment. He unlocked the door and guided you inside, the space warm and inviting. “You can take my bed,” he said, leading you to his bedroom. “I’ll crash on the couch.”

You nodded, too exhausted to protest. The bed was soft and comforting, and as soon as you lay down, sleep began to pull at you. Mingyu pulled a blanket over you, his touch gentle. “Get some rest,” he murmured. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

You barely managed a nod before sleep claimed you, the last thing you remembered was the sound of Mingyu quietly closing the door as he left you to rest.

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, gently rousing you from sleep. You blink, disoriented, as you took in your unfamiliar surroundings. The bed was comfortable, the sheets warm and soft, but panic gripped you as you realized you were not in your own room. Memories of the previous night come rushing back, and your heart raced as you sat up, fearing the worst.

Had you given in to temptation while drunk? You quickly glanced down, relieved to find yourself still fully clothed, albeit a bit disheveled. With a sigh of relief, you slid out of bed, your feet sinking into the plush carpet. The room was tastefully decorated, modern but cozy, and it was clear this was Mingyu’s place.

Curiosity mixed with a bit of apprehension drove you to explore the apartment. You moved quietly, not wanting to wake him if he was nearby. The living room was spacious, with large windows letting in the morning sun, and the kitchen looked sleek and well-kept. As you turned a corner, you spotted him.

Mingyu was sprawled on the couch, his face peaceful in sleep. He was wrapped in a thin blanket, one toned arm draped over his eyes to block out the light. Your eyes fell on his naked shoulders—your imagination ran wild as his blanket was pulled up over his chest. Relief washed over you as you realized he had slept here, not with you. The tension in your chest eased slightly.

As you tiptoed towards the door, the floor creaked beneath your weight. Mingyu stirred the arm over his eyes falling away as he blinked up at you, groggy but alert. “Hey,” he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “You’re awake.”

You froze, caught in the act of sneaking out. “I’m sorry,” you stammered, feeling a flush of embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He offered a small smile, swinging his legs off the couch and standing up. He was only in pajama pants. “It’s alright. I was going to get up soon anyway.” He stretched, looking around the apartment, and pretended like he wasn’t showing off. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit hungover,” you admitted, rubbing your temples as an excuse to look down. “But otherwise okay. Thanks for letting me crash here.”

“Of course,” he said, walking towards the kitchen. “I didn’t want you going home in that state. Are you hungry? I can make us some breakfast.”

You hesitated, still feeling awkward about the whole situation. “You don’t have to. I should probably just get going.”

Mingyu shook his head, already pulling out a frying pan and some ingredients. “You need to eat something. Besides, we should talk.”

His tone was gentle but firm, leaving little room for argument. You nodded reluctantly, making your way to the kitchen island and sitting down. “Okay. Breakfast sounds good.”

He worked quickly, the smell of sizzling bacon and eggs soon filling the air. The domesticity of the scene feels strangely intimate, and you find yourself relaxing despite the lingering awkwardness. Mingyu moves with ease, his focus on the task at hand.

“So,” he began, glancing over at you as he cracked an egg into the pan, “about last night…”

You shifted uncomfortably on the stool. “Yeah. Sorry if I was difficult. I didn’t mean to be a burden.”

“You weren’t a burden,” he assured you, his eyes sincere. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. And… I’m sorry if I pushed too hard. I didn’t mean to make things more complicated for you.”

You sighed, fiddling with the edge of the counter. “It’s not just you. It’s everything. I’ve been trying to keep things simple, but it’s clear they’re not.”

Mingyu nodded, flipping the bacon. “I get it. This isn’t easy for me either. But maybe we can figure it out together?”

His words hung in the air, a tentative offering of hope. You met his gaze, seeing the genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Maybe,” you said softly, the possibility of something more settling gently in your heart.

He smiled, plating the food and bringing it over to you. “Let’s take it one step at a time. For now, eat up.”

You and Mingyu sat at the kitchen island, plates of breakfast between you. The initial awkwardness had faded, replaced by a comfortable silence. As you ate, the conversation started to flow naturally. You talked about work, mutual colleagues, and light-hearted topics, gradually easing into deeper territory.

After a while, Mingyu looked at you thoughtfully. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded, curious. “Sure.”

He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Do you remember the train incident?”

You swallowed, memories of that night flashing in your mind. “Yeah, it’s hard to forget.”

He nodded, a small, wry smile playing on his lips. “You know, I’ve never told anyone this, but I’m scared of the dark. Always have been. That night on the train, when the power went out… I panicked. I couldn’t breathe. But then you were there.”

You looked at him, surprised by his vulnerability. “I had a feeling, I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“It was,” he admitted, looking down at his plate. “But your presence helped. You distracted me. I felt safe with you.”

His words touched something deep within you. “I’m glad I could help. Crowds have always been difficult for me. That night, it was overwhelming, but then you… you made it bearable.”

Mingyu looked up, his eyes locking with yours. “We helped each other that night. And it made me realize something.”

You tilted your head, heart pounding in anticipation. “What’s that?”

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been trying to push my feelings for you away, to keep things professional. But after that night, I couldn’t deny them anymore. I just wasn’t ready to commit, I thought our arrangement was enough.”

The conversation lingered in the air, and the unspoken emotions between you and Mingyu were finally brought to light. As the breakfast dishes sat forgotten on the counter, he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Mingyu,” you began, but he stopped you, his expression serious.

“Wait,” he said softly. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

You nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. “Okay.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I know I’ve been difficult to work with. Cold, even. And I want to explain why.” He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that’s surprisingly endearing. “My attitude towards you… it wasn’t because I disliked you. It was the opposite. I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, and it scared me. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I pushed you away.”

The confession hung in the air, and you felt a mixture of relief and confusion. “You were mean to me because you liked me?”

He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. “It sounds stupid, I know—believe me, I feel like a damn kid who can’t control himself around a pretty girl. But I thought if I kept my distance, it would be easier to ignore how I felt. Seeing you every day, working so closely with you… it was harder than I thought.”

You looked down, your mind racing. “I didn’t know,” you whisper, feeling a surge of emotions.

He reached out, gently lifting your chin so you met his gaze again. “I’m sorry for how I treated you. I thought it was the only way to protect myself. But I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched for the right words. “Mingyu, I… I’ve been trying to hide my feelings too. I was scared of what it would mean for us, for our work.”

He smiled a look of understanding in his eyes. “You don’t have to hide anymore. Not from me.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. “I’ve been falling for you, Mingyu. I’ve tried to ignore it, to keep things simple. But I can’t deny it any longer.”

His eyes softened and he stepped closer, closing the distance between you. “I’m glad you told me. Because I’ve been falling for you too. More than I ever thought possible.”

He cupped your face in his hands, his touch tender and reassuring. “We’ll figure this out together. One step at a time.”

You nodded, tears of relief and happiness welling up in your eyes. “One step at a time.”

Mingyu leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that felt both familiar and new. It’s filled with the promise of everything you’ve both been too afraid to acknowledge, a connection that goes beyond the physical.

As he pulled back, his eyes filled with warmth and affection, he took your hand. “Come with me,” he murmurs, leading you towards his bedroom.

You followed, your heart pounding with anticipation and excitement. In his bedroom, the atmosphere was intimate and comforting, a safe haven for the two of you to explore the depth of your feelings.

Mingyu turned to you, his gaze intense but filled with tenderness. “I want to be with you. Not just for today, but for as long as you’ll have me.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of certainty and peace. “I want that too, Mingyu. More than anything.”

He kissed you again, the passion and emotion between you growing stronger. As you moved together, every touch, every whispered word, solidified the bond you’ve both been too afraid to admit. It wasn’t just about the physical connection anymore; it was about the love that was there all along, waiting to be acknowledged—taking the time to explore it. You were lucky you had the day off.

In Mingyu’s arms, you felt a sense of completeness, knowing that this is just the beginning of something beautiful. And as you fell into each other once more, you knew that whatever challenges come your way, you’ll face them together, one step at a time.

A few months had passed since that morning in Mingyu’s apartment. Since then, your relationship has grown deeper, richer, and more fulfilling than you ever imagined. To comply with your job’s regulations around relationships within teams, Mingyu was reassigned to a different unit. The transition was challenging, but you both found ways to maintain your connection, meeting during lunch breaks and after work, and sharing stolen moments that made the separation bearable.

As you sat at your desk, immersed in a report, the familiar rhythm of your office provided a soothing backdrop. Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway, and your heart skipped a beat. Mingyu stood there, a stack of papers in hand and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He strode over with a confidence that drew every eye in the room, placing the papers on your desk with exaggerated formality.

“Delivery from the marketing department,” he said, his tone playful and his eyes sparkling with hidden meaning.

You looked up, unable to suppress a smile. “Marketing department? Since when do they hand-deliver reports?”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Since I needed an excuse to see you.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you bit back a grin. “Well, you’ve made your delivery. Anything else I can help you with, Mr. Marketing?”

Mingyu glanced around, ensuring no one was watching, then nodded subtly towards the door. “Actually, there is. Follow me.”

Intrigued, you stood up and followed him out of your office. He led you down a series of hallways, the usual hustle and bustle of the office fading away as you reached a more secluded area of the building. The quiet, unused conference room that used to be your occasional rendezvous spot, a hidden sanctuary where you could be together without prying eyes.

Once inside, Mingyu closed the door behind you, the click of the latch sealing you into your private world. He turns to face you with a smile that makes your knees weak. “I’ve missed you,” he said, stepping closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “I’ve missed you too. It’s been too long.”

He kissed you deeply, the passion between you reigniting instantly. The feeling of his lips against yours, the way he held you tight, all of it sent a thrill through you. When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, he takes your hand and leads you to a small couch in the corner of the room.

“So, how’s the marketing department treating you?” you asked, settling into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek.

“It’s different,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tender touch. “But it’s worth it. Anything is worth it if it means I get to be with you.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch, savoring the moment. “I’m glad we’re still making this work.”

Mingyu’s eyes locked with yours. “Me too… I know we’ve been careful at work, but do you want to–.”

“Don’t even think about it,” you warned him. “I finally got a promotion, I can’t be caught screwing a subordinate in a conference room.”

“Damn, so I can’t even be your dirty little secret?” He grinned.

“You can’t be a dirty little secret if everyone at work knows,” you argued.

“Ah, but our friends and family don’t know yet.”

“Soon, Mingyu,” you reminded him. “We’ll tell them soon. I just need to find the right moment to tell my friends that I’m dating the guy who I’ve been complaining about since I started working here. I don’t want to give them a heart attack.”

He chuckled and squeezed your hand, his gaze unwavering. “I know. And I’m not saying we announce it to the world, but I think they deserve to know.”

You considered his words and the prospect of being more open about your relationship both exciting and daunting. “I think so too,” you said finally, a smile spreading across your face. “I want to share what we have with the people who matter to us.”

He grinned, pulling you into another kiss, his lips lingering on yours. “Good. Because I can’t wait to show you off.”

You laughed, feeling a surge of happiness. “And I can’t wait to be shown off.”

Mingyu grinned, but his expression turned slightly more somber as he looked at the clock. “We should probably get back before anyone notices we’re missing.”

You took his hand, the world of the office creeping back into your awareness. “Yeah, don’t want to give them any reason to suspect.”

He smirked, leaning in for one last kiss, a promise in his eyes. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Definitely,” you replied, your heart light as you walked back to your office.

The workday finally drew to a close, and as you gathered your things, a familiar excitement bubbled up inside you. The office buzz gradually quieted as your colleagues filed out, leaving behind the hum of computers and the soft rustle of papers. You made your way to the lobby, where Mingyu was waiting, leaning casually against the wall. His presence was magnetic, and when he sees you, his face lights up with a smile that seems to brighten the whole room.

“Ready to go?” he asked, pushing off the wall and walking toward you, his movements fluid and confident.

“Ready,” you replied, slipping your hand into his as you stepped out into the evening air. The city was alive with the hustle and bustle of rush hour, cars honking, and people chattering as they hurry by, but all you can focus on is Mingyu beside you.

As you walk together, the warmth of his hand in yours, you fall into easy conversation. “So, what do you want to make for dinner tonight?” you asked, glancing up at him, the streetlights casting a soft glow on his face.

Mingyu tilted his head, thinking. “How about something simple but delicious? Maybe pasta?”

“Pasta sounds good,” you agreed, squeezing his hand. “We could do a creamy Alfredo with chicken and mushrooms.”

He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “And maybe some garlic bread on the side?”

You laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely. I love garlic bread. What about dessert?”

Mingyu’s eyes lit up mischievously. “How about we bake some cookies? We can make them together.”

“Cookies it is,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought of spending a cozy evening together in the kitchen. “What kind?”

“Chocolate chip,” he said decisively. “The classic.”

“Perfect,” you replied, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked. “I always love our dinner plans.”

Mingyu chuckled, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Me too. I love doing these everyday things with you. It makes everything feel more special.”

You smiled, feeling a surge of affection for him. “I feel the same way. Even just walking home together like this… it’s my favorite part of the day.”

He stopped walking, turning to face you. The city noises faded into the background as he cupped your face in his hands, his touch warm and tender. “Mine too,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours. “I love you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled up at him, feeling a rush of pure happiness. “I love you too, Mingyu.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. It was a moment of pure joy, a promise of all the simple, beautiful moments you’ll share together. When you finally pulled away, you continued your walk home, hand in hand, talking and laughing about your day and your plans for the evening.

As you reached your apartment, you felt a sense of contentment settled over you. Mingyu unlocked the door, and you stepped inside, the familiar, comforting scent of home welcoming you. The soft lighting cast a warm glow over the cozy living space and you kicked off your shoes, already imagining the delicious dinner you’ll create together.

Mingyu wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Ready to cook?”

“Ready,” you said, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “Let’s get started.”

The two of you moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, the clatter of pots and pans mixing with your laughter. You chopped vegetables, and the rhythmic sound of the knife on the cutting board adds to the symphony of your evening. The pasta boiled on the stove, and the rich aroma of garlic bread baking in the oven fills the air. Every so often, you stole a kiss or a playful nudge, the simple act of affection made everything feel perfect.

As the pasta simmered and the aroma of garlic bread grew more intense, you glanced at Mingyu, feeling a rush of gratitude for this wonderful, ordinary evening. “I’m so glad we’re doing this,” you said, your voice soft with emotion.

“Me too,” he replied, smiling at you, his eyes twinkling with happiness.

You nodded, knowing that you’d cherish every single one of these moments. And as you sat down to enjoy your meal, the table set with care, you felt a deep sense of happiness. Whatever the future held, you knew you would face it together.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

feedback is always welcomed!

taglist:

@enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01,

@loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag,

@d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303,

@lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz

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ovaryacted · 4 months ago

Text

─ Variant! Logan Howlett x fem! reader || WC: 1.4k

CW: None. Sort-of fluffy content/slice of life. Alcohol consumption. Kissing at the end. Just relationship dynamics and a growing yearning from grumpy Logan.

You knew I wasn't done talking about Logan right? Well, in this case, we are talking about Variant! Logan aka the Worst Logan from the Deadpool & Wolverine movie. I just got on the doc and thought about him, and this could've been a fic but this is what I came up with. This is also the first time I've written in this kind of format like "headcanons" but as you continue its basically a fic lol. Had to talk about this version of him because I am very fond of it and I loved him, truly. Anyway, hope y'all like it. <3

Variant! Logan who gets introduced to you on Wade’s account and it’s a complete accident. You stumbled into the apartment asking for the bottle of wine he had yanked from you earlier in the week.

Variant! Logan who observes you from afar as you walk into the kitchen, reaching toward one of the higher cabinets to grab the bottle of prosecco you desperately wanted. The moment you turn around to spot a whole new stranger in the room, you pivot to Wade and ask “Who’s the big guy?”

Variant! Logan who gets pressured by Wade to formally introduce himself and shake your hand, fingers mindfully wrapping around yours as he catches your name after saying his. He notices the way you smiled up at him, bright and charming, before turning to give Wade a friendly kiss on the cheek and waltzing back out.

Variant! Logan who quickly begins to get used to your presence, frequently stopping by Wade’s place to drop off dinner, cooked pastries, and alcohol. Your cooking definitely beat the emergency pizza and sandwiches Wade constantly got for him. Not to mention you made a mean tiramisu he grows addicted to craving.

Variant! Logan who often spots you chatting with Wade over anything and everything under the sun. He can’t recall the multiple pop culture references you both shared, or how you managed to make him laugh with your corny jokes, but he’s not complaining.

Variant! Logan who sits on the left side of you when you come by for movie nights or to binge-watch reality TV shows with Wade. You’d be munching away at some popcorn, wearing matching PJs with him while Logan leans into his side of the couch nursing a beer.

Variant! Logan who catches your glances as you hand him the popcorn bowl to grab a handful. He reaches for it, large palm grasping several kernels and munching on them one by one. Your eyes met his for a brief second before returning to the screen, and Logan swears you were grinning.

Variant! Logan who is uneasy speaking to you when Wade isn’t around, not wishing to make you uncomfortable with his grumpy attitude. You don’t mind either way, walking into the apartment to drop off some food and a fresh bottle of Jack Daniels for Logan as a proper welcome present. He didn’t expect a gift, or for you to even be thinking about him at all, but he’s glad you’ve allowed him space in your mind.

Variant! Logan who is more comfortable talking to you in person outside of grunts and nods. Despite babbling like Wade and having an equally foul mouth, you could hold an actual conversation in comparison to the other. Hearing your voice was also a plus.

Variant! Logan who is surprised when you bring him a book you think he might like, something about contemporary American history that felt like something up his alley. It was the first book that got him back into reading, and slowly but surely, he finds himself reading a little every night when Wade isn’t snoring his ears off.

Variant! Logan who gets invited to dinner at your place with Wade tagging along, something to celebrate your job promotion. Wade is really only there for the food and the lemon pound cakes you saved, munching away and telling you about the dickhead he just stabbed not too long ago. And though Logan wants to pretend he’s there for the hard liquor you only reserve for him, deep down he knows he came for you too.

Variant! Logan who enjoys the quiet moments with you, sneaking away to your apartment when you offer and lounging on the couch with another book in his hand. You sit across from him on the armchair, quietly reading on your end. He doesn’t realize he’s staring until you look at him from the corner of your eye, forcing him to flip to the next page.

Variant! Logan who isn’t paying attention to the current film playing on the TV, another late movie night with The Godfather on the screen. Wade had already fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and you dozed off at the 2 hr mark. Your body had ended up leaning against Logan’s, naturally gravitating to his warmth and stability. He could have moved you to let you sit up straight, but instead he moves his arm from resting on the back of the couch to wrap around your shoulder. His breath hitches when you move in closer to him, and he thinks you can hear his heart pounding in his ribs.

Variant! Logan who catches himself peeking at you for longer periods of time. It didn’t matter if your back was facing him, or if you were too busy showing Wade the latest TikTok trend. His eyes always seemed to drift to you, and it would be worse when you caught him looking. He’ll blow it off and huff as if he were irritated, missing how you smiled to yourself from the interaction.

Variant! Logan who has to take shit from Wade teasing him over his obvious not so obvious crush. “C’mon man, just tell her. If you don’t, I will!” That conversation ended with the schling of Logan’s claws piercing into Wade’s leg. He’s pissed off, but Logan knows he’s right.

Variant! Logan who sits with you on the couch during one of Wade’s house parties, nursing a cup of whiskey as you enjoy your homemade cosmo. The two of you have already mingled with the rest of the party-goers, your social battery running dry. So you both decide to be in your own bubble, communicating amongst yourselves and making fun of Wade’s lame party hat.

Variant! Logan who nervously swallows when you laugh at his joke, playfully slapping him on the sternum, shaking your head and nearly dropping your red solo cup. He takes in your expression, commemorating it to his memory as your smile widens and you shift to look at him. Your hand didn’t move from its place on his chest, and he didn’t have any intention of telling you to remove it. So you leave it there for a while longer before drawing away from him.

Variant! Logan who walks you back home after the party, using it as an excuse to “sober up” and make sure you were alright to ease his own anxieties. You talk along the way, and he ignores the flutters in his stomach from the close proximity.

Variant! Logan who stands by your front door as you unlock it, asks again if you were going to be alright on your own to which you nod. You thank him, his heart beating at the way you looked at him, like you cared about him, like he mattered. He brushes it off with a shrug and digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Variant! Logan who doesn’t stop you when you step closer to him to place a gentle and affectionate kiss on his cheek, the touch making a shiver roll down his spine. You were right there, temptation dangling in front of his face. His eyes ask you a silent question, letting you call the shots when you plant your lips over his, soft and mellow.

Variant! Logan who suppresses the moan that threatens to slip out, feeling the tip of your tongue graze his bottom lip and silently ask for entrance. He shouldn’t, not when the alcohol was still running it’s course. Hesitantly, he pulled away from you, holding your waist with one hand and the other caressing your forearm.

Variant! Logan who is quick to reassure you after your sudden look of disappointment. “Not like this. Maybe, when you don’t taste like vodka and cranberries?” You laugh at that, nodding and rubbing the tip of your nose against his. “Only if you make it up to me with dinner.” He lets you go after that with one last kiss, standing in front of your apartment door for a minute more to catch his breath before heading back outside.

Variant! Logan who walks back to the apartment with a stupid smile on his face, one that he doesn’t register he’s sporting until he stepped through the door to spot Wade cleaning up the mess left behind on the kitchen table. He mentioned something about lipgloss over his lips and the side of his cheek, only getting a grumble and a few curse words in return. Logan ignores him and goes to the bathroom “to take a piss”, spotting the remnants of your lipgloss over his aged features. He grins, making a mental note to look for places to take you out for dinner in the morning.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan x reader #hugh jackman #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine #ovaryacted fics #⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆

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hyunsvngs · 8 months ago

Text

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 - college bf!han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 3k

synopsis: there's an hour until your roommate comes back and your boyfriend is looking particularly delicious.

a/n: HI :3 i wrote it.... jisung not a complete sub.. i wrote it. as always thank u miss may and miss ems for proofreading for me <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: daddy kink, soft dom jisung maybe?, choking, sub reader, messy sex, reader has a wap, oral (m and f rec), doggy, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk! jisung has a dirty mouth

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

there’s a scoff from beside you, and you jump in surprise when jisung wails, flinging his legs around. “baby! you’re not even watching the movie!”

you’re not, and you can’t even deny it. you’ve been staring blankly at your laptop screen where it sits on the edge of your twin bed, and it feels like you have seen this studio ghibli film with jisung a million times. you huff and try to curl up into his chest, and he makes a noise again, nose nudging your head incessantly until you look up at him.

“are you bored?” he asks, eyes round. his bottom lip is jutted out into a pout, and you want to kiss it, want to litter kisses around his face until he’s blushing and giggling in his shyness.

it’s been a few months with jisung now. he was so cool when you first met him, all baggy jeans and beanies and nail polish, and he even lives off campus. he has his own bedroom there, and you honestly wish you two were stationed there right now instead of anxiously waiting for your roommate to arrive, because you’d been thinking about sex with jisung.

of course you had. jisung had arrived to yours with his signature wide grin, messy curly hair and oversized flannel falling off his broad shoulders, and you’d immediately thought of jumping his bones. you let him into your room, curled up on the bed with him and let him choose the movie, and while you’d been waiting for him to make a move, he seems to not even be thinking about it.

you’re not bored, you just want your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth.

“‘m not bored, hannie,” you shake your head solemnly. he tilts his head in confusion, and you feel bad for thinking such unsavoury thoughts about him. it’s not like you can help yourself, he just fucked you so good last time, and your eyes are going half lidded just from the thought. your legs on his shoulders, the headboard of his bed hitting the wall, his mouth on your tits, his fingers on your-

“oh my god,” he bursts out laughing, eyes crinkling. “jagi. are you being dirty right now?! i just wanted to watch a movie-”

“i didn’t say anything!” you whine, slapping his shoulder playfully, and jisung’s still chortling. he can’t help it, shoulders shaking, and when he finally calms down your cheeks are burning crimson. you grimace, embarrassment eating you whole. “sung-ah.”

he looks at you with a cocky grin, raising his eyebrows. “baby, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. i’m thinking about fucking you all the time. i’ve been hard since i got here, to be honest.”

the way he says it is so straightforward, so blunt, that it makes you scoff out a laugh. you love the way he can make you feel so relaxed by just being him, and so you cuddle closer, wiggling against his chest in delight when he kisses your forehead.

and then you realise.

“you- you’re hard… right now?” you ask, licking over your bottom lip. it’s hard to tell in his huge baggy jeans, but if you stare hard enough you think you can see his length pressing against his zipper. you feel jisung nod against your head, and you sigh, rubbing your thighs together with need. he’s hard right now, and his hands move to the denim to adjust himself. “i- can i suck you off, sungie? i want to so bad.”

the film has been forgotten. you still hear the audio blaring from your laptop speakers, and your eyes move to look at the screen to check the time. you still have an hour until your roommate gets back.

“fuck. yeah, you can,” jisung nods eagerly. his hands move from his jeans to allow you access, and you’re quick to undo the button and the zipper that keep you from your boyfriend’s cock. he’s hard in his boxers, a wet patch of precum soaking through the black fabric, and you pull his jeans down all the way to discard them on the floor.

jisung pulls his shirt up to above his tummy for you to see him in his whole, and you blink wordlessly at the sight of him, mouth agape. above his boxers, a v-line leads upwards into his slender waist before panning outwards again at his broad shoulders. his abs clench and unclench under his skin in anticipation, and you run a fingernail down one, watching him quiver. he grins cockily, but his chest is heaving already, and you get so irritated at his confidence that you lean down instantly to mouth over his clothed erection.

“shit,” jisung whimpers, hand moving to clutch the headboard behind his head. “fuck, yeah. suck daddy’s cock, my baby. pull it out, c’mon, c’mon-“

“jisung,” you huff, eyes stern when you look up at him. he pushes his fringe from his eyes with his free hand, licks over his lips, and you’re still glaring. “let me play.”

he does. he lets you mouth and dribble all over the fabric of his boxers until they’re soaked through, material almost turning transparent with your spit, and then you finally yank the waistband down to rest underneath his balls. they’re so little, so round and full, and they almost push his shaft upright for you with how swollen they are.

you lick over his balls and he gasps, thighs twitching. “mm, god, fuckin’- hnnnfg, hot little mouth, baby,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut, and you’re so desperate you can’t help but lean upwards to suck his cockhead into your mouth. you run your tongue on the underside of his tip, right where it’s sensitive, and his hands fly to your hair so fast you think he might fuck your throat. “don’t be mean to me, yeah? not today. not today, my baby, be good for daddy.”

“mm,” you hum, letting his shaft fall from your mouth. with a grip around his base, brushing past his dark pubic hair, you slap it against your tongue a few times. jisung’s eyes roll back into his head. “i’ll be good for daddy. daddy likes me dirty, huh?”

“f-fuck yeah, my baby,” he nods, enthusiastic, and when your head ducks down again to taste him his knee jolts so hard he almost kicks you. “daddy loves you d-dirty, ooh- oh, that’s- baby, makin’ my cock feel so good.”

you let him tighten his grip onto your hair, and then you bob your head. jisung’s length always presses at your throat uncomfortably but you can’t help but crave the pressure, sucking hard every time your head drops and letting your lips muse wetly over his shaft on the way back up. jisung’s hips kick up when his cockhead finally kisses the back of your throat and you gag, eyes watering, and he’s quick to pull you off of him by your hair.

a string of your saliva connects you to his length as you pout up at him in question. “i’ll cum, don’t- don’t do that,” he says, breathless, and you giggle. it’s hoarse but jisung still smiles as if you’ve charmed the socks off of him, and you blink in question when he finally takes his flannel and his tee off, dropping them on the floor. he’s so delicious, honey skin stretching over tight, lean muscle, and his abs tense while you ogle him.

in a brief second, you’re pinned to the bed, jisung’s lips against yours. jisung always kisses filthy, tongue all over your lips and drool slicking down to your chin. you let him force his hands to your sleep shorts, and he’s impatient when he yanks them down, rings cold against your skin. you’re so whiplashed by the whole situation that you pull your t-shirt off yourself, breaking the kiss, and jisung looks like he’s about to cry.

“oh, baby,” he murmurs, eyes wide and fixated on your chest. your nipples pebble against the cool air and you can’t help but writhe on your bed, smiling bashfully at your boyfriend. before you can get insecure or even the slightest bit embarrassed jisung’s shoved his face in your chest with a deep exhale. his curly hair tickles you and you laugh, thighs kicking up. “daddy’s home, babies.”

“jisungie!” you slap him on the shoulder playfully, and he retreats with a little huff of amusement. finally, his eyes drop lower, and his hands smooth upwards on your thighs. he licks over his bottom lip, eyebrows raising, and then he’s slowly moving closer.

“mm, let me taste it first,” he murmurs, and you squeak when he wraps his hands underneath your asscheeks, yanking you down the bed. he wastes no time, curly strands covering his eyes as he smothers his face in your cunt. jisung’s a little theatrical when he eats you out, you think - he positively growls into your pussy and almost cums in his pants every time - but he swears its a reasonable reaction.

he swirls his tongue around your clit and then he’s pursing it between his pretty lips. he flicks it with the tip of his tongue, and you moan, high pitched and airy. when your hands move to his hair, tugging the strands a little, he finally sucks the bud hard. it feels like he’s driving you insane, your thighs twitching and brain floating off into a less embarrassed, entirely more horny headspace.

“a-ah! ah, daddy! daddy, my pussy, ‘s- daddy, more,” you whine, and he can’t deny you ever. his tongue flicks over your hole and then he licks a fat, wide stripe up your folds. his mouth dribbles your wetness as lubrication to dirty your pussy up even more, and it practically talks to jisung when he sucks your folds into his mouth. “more! moremoremore, gimme, gimme, pleaaaaase!”

fucking his tongue over your clit again, jisung growls, and the vibrations ring through your body like you’ve been struck by lightning. you grind your hips upwards into his mouth, and he only shakes his head against your pussy enthusiastically, smearing spit and slick over your heated skin.

“hnnfg- ahhhh! ah, my pussy! feels s’good, my pussy feels so good, jisungie, daddy,” you babble, drunk with it. jisung’s hips kick against the bed once, twice, and he whines against your pussy when you wrap one thigh around his pretty head to keep him smothered. you ride his face with it, and jisung just can’t - he can’t handle it, tapping your thigh incessantly in a wordless expression.

you unhook your leg from his head and he moves quickly, leaning over you to give you a chaste, wet kiss tasting entirely of you before he’s pushing you onto your side on the bed. he slides behind you, chest pressed up against your sweaty back, and you feel his cockhead rutting against your hole.

“i guh- i gotta fuck you now, i’m sorry, so sorry,” he’s ever so respectful, huffing out a breath against your shoulder. “c-condom? want me to- to use a condom, baby?”

“n-no,” you slur, pushing your hips backwards. you feel drunk on him, needing more than him to fuck your cock into you until you’re crying with it. “fuck me, please. p-please gimme it, sungie.”

he slides home in one thrust. jisung’s not huge - he has a delicious case of boyfriend dick, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp every time. you’re still not used to it, and you make an internal vow to fuck your boyfriend ten times more.

“see? you d-don’t- don’t have to be mean to me,” he whimpers at a particular slick thrust. his hand goes to your inner thigh, pushes your leg up at an angle that has you shaking, pussy squelching around his cock. “daddy will fuck you good, see? i can do it. i can do it.”

“yeah! yeah, mm- d-daddy can, daddy can,” you babble, hiccuping on a wet noise from your throat, and jisung groans. he shifts closer to you, grips your thigh a little harder, and the bite of his rings into your skin makes you gasp. his hair tickles yours on the back of your head, and then his spare hand shuffles from underneath your waist to your throat and grabs. you can’t help but keen. “daddy!”

“ssh, s-ssh,” jisung murmurs, and you have half a mind to tell him he’s being just as loud, if not worse. he’s panting and whimpering behind you, hips rutting his chubby cock into the slick hole you’ve provided for him. “baby, you’re fuckin’ wet. wet little hole, s-so- so little, so tight on my cock, i- fuck, baby. i c-can’t!”

he can, and he proves it by gripping your throat a little tighter, his balls slapping against you harder. the change in pace ruts his cockhead against that spongey spot inside of you and you wail with it, incoherent wet noises leaving your lungs.

“y-you’re fuckin’ my pussy so good, daddy,” you croon, eyes watery with it. he fucks you a bit harder in apology for your strained voice, but it only makes you moan louder, fingers moving upwards to grip the pillow under your head. you think you could rip it with how good he’s fucking you, and you feel his thighs bounce behind your legs to fuck you harder.

on a particularly wet thrust, jisung’s dick slips out of you, and you whine at the same time he does. he fucks it against your hole messily, trying to slide it back in, and he huffs impatiently. your hole gushes desperately, the wetness leaking onto where jisung bumps his cock into you, and it squelches messily.

“you’re too wet, she’s talkin’ to me,” he moans, but you know he loves it. you grind your ass against him a little more to tease him, and he sits upright sharply.

“sungie, no- no, keep trying, daddy!”

he tugs at your ankle impatiently and you flip onto your stomach, letting him crowd into your space. “c’mon, c’mon, baby,” he ushers, and you hear the slick sounds of him stripping his cock behind you. he whines with it, and then his spare hand taps your ass impatiently. “hands and knees. let daddy fuck you from behind, god, please.”

you have to. you’d do anything he wanted, and so you prop yourself up, back arching into a perfect position for him to slide back home. he can see a little better like this, and you fuck your ass back onto his cock for him to watch the slick slide of him entering you over and over. when he grips your ass, spreading your asscheeks for a better look, you hear him let out a stuttered breath and you know you don’t have much time left before he’s done.

“i gotta- baby, you gotta cum for me, yeah?” he says, quiet, and then he’s leaning over you. his chest presses against your back, and the sensation of your skin rubbing against his peaked nipples makes him lose concentration for a moment, steady pace haltering. “fuck! fuck, baby, you gotta cum, i’m gonna cum, i will-”

“d-daddy, please! i’ll try, i’ll try- i- i’ll be good, i’m good,” you babble, hand moving down to rub sticky circles on your clit. you use your wetness to lube it up a bit more, indirectly brushing against the base of jisung’s cock. jisung lets out a keen at the touch, his arms wrapping around your waist to bounce you backwards as he fucks into you. the pace gets quicker, and you feel his cock throbbing incessantly inside of you.

“still not used to fucking this cunt, n-not used to how perfect you are, baby,” jisung murmurs, and his language makes you gasp, gummy walls clenching down around his chubby shaft. “oh! oh, i don’t think i ever will be, baby, fucking clench on me again!”

you do, almost subconsciously with how your fingers speed up on your clit. it’s wet and messy with how much you’re gushing around him but the circles seem to be enough to get you close, your tits bouncing as you move on your boyfriend’s cock. before you know it, you’re cumming, a loud keen leaving your lips as you soak his shaft. you’re sure there’s a white ring of your cum forming at his base right now, soaking his pubic hair and dripping to his balls, and the thought makes you clench down harder.

“fuck! yeah, baby! that’s it, like that, clench on me, good g- oh, oh! oh, i’m gonna-”

his body practically collapses on you when he cums. you realise he must have been holding it back for a while because he wails too, cock pumping heavy loads of his cum inside of you. when you turn to him, his eyes are rolling back into his head, little pants of air leaving his lungs as he fills you up straight to your cervix.

thirty seconds later, jisung’s still collapsed on top of you, his head leaning on your shoulder.

“jisungie,” you say, and then you have to clear your throat. “jisungie. you okay there?”

“i think i died,” he mumbles, and a bit of drool leaks to your skin. you giggle, reaching back in an awkward position to ruffle his hair. “pussy’s too good. oh, when’s your roommate back?”

“um,” you blink at your laptop, still playing the movie from earlier. the device is hanging off if the bed and you make a conscious effort to kick it back on with your foot. regardless, it’s only been twenty minutes and you want to laugh. jisung’s just too sensitive - he always gets too worked up to go very long. “like, forty minutes or so.”

“ah, great, i’m not moving,” jisung cuddles closer to you, cock still soft and resting inside of your walls. after a short while, he inhales, and you feel his eyelashes tickling you as he blinks rapidly. “wait, we only fucked for twenty minutes?!”

you ruffle his hair again, a fond smile on your face. it’s an awkward position, but you’ll do it for your boy. “don’t worry about it, sungie.”

“mm,” he responds, unsatisfied. “fine, but next time we’re going for twenty hours.”

“huh?!”

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