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oatmealwrites · 10 hours ago

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Jealousy! Jealousy! [NSFW]

Oncology student! Frat VP! Jealous Suguru x F Reader [part of Holiday Hoes! series]

holiday hoes masterlist | JJK masterlist | regular masterlist

Synopsis: While out gift shopping with Suguru for a belated holiday gift for a certain white haired man, you can't help but notice the annoyed behavior of your best friend. He's distant and cold leaving you confused and irritated. All the while, he's forced to spend his Friday afternoon watching you so carefully picking out a gift for his best friend when the two of you could be doing anything else. It's dumb to crush on his friend, and even dumber to silently mope while wishing you would finally pay attention to man next to you-- especially considering he's oblivious that you feel the same way.

Tags: friends to lovers, frat AU!, Suguru is a panty thief, hopeless pining, Shoko is in on it, some angst [you guys get into a fight], Suguru calls reader a slut, mentions of self insecurity, Suguru has tongue piercing, public makeout, hickies galore, sucking on titties, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, public sex, dressing room shenanigans, p in v, no condom, creampie, doggy position, premature ejaculation, established relationship at end, everyone knows y'all did it, reference to potential round 2, 18+, MDNI

word count: 11.3k [whoops]

[essentially porn with plot haha]

~~~~~~~~

The interior of Suguru and Satoru’s shared apartment is a warm haven from the winter storm that roars outside; wind howls as the snow falls steadily coating the roads and sidewalks. Snacks and soft drinks litter the coffee table in the living room as Shoko cracks a window open to blow the smoke from her cigarette outside and away from the group.

An old horror movie plays on the TV, one Choso had picked out citing the choice as a recommendation from Yuji, as you sit on the couch next to Suguru scrolling absentmindedly on your phone. Your feet are thrown in a comfortable position diagonally over his lap as a throw blanket covers you both. It’s the same position the two of you usually sit in whenever you happen to be over.

Despite being in their shared apartment, Satoru is out assisting Megumi with reviewing material for a gen-ed requirement bio class while the small group waits for his return; the evening plan was to drink at your usual pub in a few hours.

“Ah, shit…” you mumble quietly, leaning your chin into the collar of your quarter-zip jacket and biting slightly on the zipper.

Choso looks up from his position on the floor while going through a few potential board games to play and raises an eyebrow. “Hm? What’s up?”

Tossing the phone onto your upper chest, you lean back into the couch and throw your hands up in a long stretch. “I forgot to get Satoru’s stupid Christmas gift.”

“The holidays passed weeks ago. You need one now?” Shoko questions, blowing the last few puffs of smoke out of the window before shutting it firmly.

A few complaints and groans escape your lips instead of actually formulating a response, and Suguru chuckles while dodging your outstretched hand that’s thrown haphazardly in the air from your stretch. He takes your wrist and pushes it back into your lap before pivoting slightly to grab his drink from the table and shooting you a look to explain.

“Ah, it’s for your family dinner thing right?” Choso asks while he remains peering at the rules printed underneath the box of Monopoly in his hands.

“Mmm, yea. I totally forgot it was this weekend.”

Suguru keeps his eyes on your face but remains silent; everyone knew you and Satoru were close family friends yet the man at your side never made an effort to point it out.

Taking a sip from his beverage, he leans down closer next to you on the sofa and examines your contorted face. “I didn’t hear about this dinner from either one of you…”

“It was last minute– the Gojo family rescheduled a few times since they went on vacation for the new year. This weekend was open so they just confirmed the restaurant reservation a few hours ago.”

Shoko nods as she crouches next to Choso to sort through a few potential card games. “And you forgot to buy a gift so now you gotta get one.”

You bring your arms down to cross your chest with a sullen sigh in confirmation; Suguru sits forward to place his drink back on the table and shakes his head in disapproval slightly.

“On top of that, I have nothing to wear– the place it’s booked at looks super fancy.” You pause and sit upright, eyeing the woman on the floor. “Hey, lend me that dress you wore to the fall semester formal.”

Shoko shoots you a half smile. “No way– if I give you that, I’ll never see it again.”

Before you can sputter a response in defense, Suguru chuckles at your side and regains your attention. “I’ve seen your closet y/n. You definitely have something in there.”

“Yea, but nothing good.”

He raises an eyebrow but keeps the familiar smirk on his lips. He’s been in your room a million times before, all for platonic reasons so far; he knows you have more than enough clothes to wear something to this dinner.

“What about the dress you wore to the fall formal, the burgundy one?” He asks, gaze lingering on your lips a moment too long before peeling them to look back at your eyes.

“Nobara spilt some wine on it and the stain won’t come out. So I need new clothes.”

It’s an exaggeration, you do have other dresses, but most were either mini-mini meant for nightclubs or sundresses for the beach. Silently, you pull up the nearby mall directory of shops to scan through if any might have a few potential winter dresses still for sale; Suguru lifts the arm that was resting behind you on the couch to hold his chin as he watches.

“Shokooo, come with me to the mall,” you propose while remaining absorbed in your phone.

She points to a box of Jenga in Choso’s hands and nods in approval at his selection. “Nope,” she adds with a pop of the ‘p’. “I have to pick up Utahime from her part time job in an hour.”

Choso meets Shoko’s glance and raises an eyebrow when she winks knowingly at him; it takes a few moments to understand the implication. “O-Oh, I also can’t go. Yuji is with Nobara at the movie theater across town… so I have to pick them up…?”

You’re so engrossed in your phone that you don’t pay attention to the way Choso works out his questionable excuse slowly to gauge Shoko’s approval of his statement. After a few moments you look up and blink at both of them; Suguru is glaring at the two.

“Oh, that’s fine. Sugu–”

“He’s free!” Shoko interrupts while pouring the wooden bricks onto a clear opening of the table; Choso immediately assists in building a tower.

The man beside you grumbles before pulling out his own cellphone to check the time. “I guess I can take you. Satoru’s gonna be busy until 7… so you can’t linger in all the shops.”

“When have I ever–?” You pause and purse your lips when all three of them shoot you a knowing look. Raising your hands in defeat, you swing your legs off his lap and stand up. “Ok, ok, duly noted. Now come on, we’re burning daylight.”

Suguru sighs slightly, but doesn’t fight the way you pull him to his feet and shuffle him to the door. Winter coats are thrown on while the other two continue building a wooden block tower; Shoko leans over to whisper in Choso’s ear who seemingly comes to an epiphany before staring between you and Suguru.

You narrow your eyes at both of them and wrap a knit scarf around your neck while Suguru fishes around in the small basket by the front door for his car keys. Shoko shimmies up to lean on the edge of the couch.

“Have fun you two~”

Flipping her off, Suguru twirls his keys around his other hand and opens the door; the two of you making your way down the elevator and out of the lobby to his sleek black Audi parked in front. The ignition starts and he lets it run for a few minutes to let the engine warm up as you get situated in the passenger seat.

Everything is the same as it was when you last rode with him– it always was. The seat is still reclined to your preferred position, your residual hair ties and bobby pins sit in the car door basket, an old scrunchie is wrapped around the gear shifter, and even forgotten bracelets and rings sit in the console cup holders.

You ‘oooo’ when you find your missing class ring from undergrad and slide it on your right ring finger. “You know, I’m surprised the girls you bring in here don’t get pissed off and leave right away.”

Suguru looks up from queuing his Spotify songs and tilts his head. “What do you mean? Is the air freshener bad…?”

While yes, sometimes it smelled like a mix of smoke from the sessions he and his friends occasionally had in the car, the luxury Diptyque car fresher hid them nicely.

“No, it’s just that all my stuff is scattered around here.”

Suguru blinks and hums slightly before starting his music queue and putting the car in reverse to begin the drive. “Oh, I mean… I guess maybe that would happen.”

Curious to see what else you’ve left in his car, you loosen the slack on your seatbelt and peer into the back seat; Suguru is careful to avoid the potholes as you stretch over the console to dig around behind his chair. It’s mainly clean except for a few coins, parking tickets, and pens until a fabric strap gets your attention.

“Aha! You had my gym bag this whole time?” You snatch the university branded duffle bag and pull it into your lap. “I was arguing with Satoru for days about this– I can’t believe you had it.”

Suguru coughs slightly and peers down at it before reverting his gaze to the street and entering the highway. With excitement, you unzip the bag and dig through the contents you’re happy to be reunited with.

Sound-proof ear buds, insulated metal water bottle, perfume, and at least 2 sets of clothing are all neatly stored here; Suguru is adjusting the volume of the music when you dig through a bit more.

He glances down at your face through the corner of his eye and sucks in his bottom lip before smoothly changing lanes. “Everything alright there?”

You furrow your brows and pull clothing to the side in focus. “Huh? Oh yea…. Just missing something…”

Your underwear.

You're nearly 100% positive there should be at least 2 pairs in here. There’s always a set of dirty gym clothes and clean casual clothes tucked in this bag, and for whatever reason all other garments are here except your panties.

Weird. Did you forget to change out of your gym underwear and didn’t pack a replacement? That’s the only explanation right…?

“H-Have you heard this new EP? The band just released it.”

Suguru drags you from your thoughts and increases the volume a bit more; you sigh and zip the bag shut and throw it behind you in the back row again. You’ll remember it this time.

“I haven’t but it sounds good.” You hum while nodding your head to the beat.

His hands on the wheel are rubbing the leather up and down as he fidgets slightly; a single bead of sweat drips from his temple. Sighing, you open your phone and look at the mall directory once more, though this time for stores that might have a good gift for a certain white haired man.

“Hey, what did you get Satoru for the holidays?” You mumble while scrolling.

“Mmm, I gave him Nanami’s official schedule from the school portal.”

You look up at him and can’t fight the laughter escaping your lips as you stare at him in confusion. “Why-Why would you do that? How did you do that?”

Suguru chuckles in response to your own laughter and shrugs with a smile plastered on; his upper lip raising slightly to show off his canines. “He kept complaining that Nanami was always too busy to hang out. So I guessed his passwords and logged onto his uni account to download his course times.” Suguru turns to you with a devious smile. “Did you know he was taking a baking elective? And he has no classes thursday–friday?”

You shove his shoulder and shake your head with more giggles escaping your lips as Suguru finds himself staring at the way they part. Looking back at your phone, you sink into the seat a little.

“That’s good… but I can’t exactly do something of that caliber on such short notice, and not at the mall either.”

He hums and flicks on his turn signal to merge into the exit lane when a car cuts in front without warning. Slamming on the brakes, Suguru extends his arm to cover your chest at the abrupt action and veers to avoid rear ending the oblivious driver. Smoothly, he dips into the emergency lane for a brief moment before straightening the vehicle out and continuing to the exit ramp marked for the mall entrance.

“Fucking hell! Douchebag has no idea where he’s going–” He keeps his arm in front of your torso for an extended moment before returning it to the wheel. “Shit, are you ok?”

Heart rate up slightly from the near accident, you nod and pull on the locked seatbelt to release the vice it has across your chest. “Y-Yea, I’m fine.”

Suguru scans your face with worried eyes before turning his attention back to the road and navigating to the mall parking lot. Without any further potential collisions, he pulls into a decent spot, given the Friday rush, and parks the car.

“Ok, well aside from that shitty driver, we got here in one piece,” you offer while adjusting your scarf and taking a forgotten hair tie from the console, sliding it on your wrist.

Suguru sighs in emotional exhaustion and opens his door before starting the walk to the entrance with you at his side. The wind whips both of your hair in every direction, and the snow which had subsided for the drive begins to fall once more. Power walking to the entrance and huddled next to each other for warmth, you sigh in relief when you make it inside and in front of the building map.

“Ok,” you sigh while unwrapping your scarf slightly. “Where should we head to?”

Suguru drags a long index finger that adorns a matching undergrad class ring across the plastic sign. “Mm, there’s an electronics store on the second floor.”

“That might be too pricey..” You reach up and point to another block. “What about a cosmetics store? Do you know what skincare he likes?”

Suguru rubs the back of his head slightly; his long hair tousled freely down. “I’m not sure the particular brand… but I do know the packages he orders online are stamped as imports… I think from France, Japan, and Korea?”

You swallow thickly and remind yourself to raid Satoru’s bathroom drawers next time he pisses you off. “Ok then– let’s just head to the main department store. I can look for clothes for him and my dinner outfit there too.”

Suguru nods once and moves to walk beside you. “Good idea, it also limits the amount of time we spend here.”

You both seamlessly shuffle through the crowd; strollers, small children, and couples loiter in the walkways, but Suguru always ensures to look behind if he thinks you’ve drifted too far. He waits in front of the entrance as you squirm through a group of highschoolers and chuckles when you roll your eyes at how annoying it was to cut through them all.

Entering the department store, you both walk side by side towards the men’s section to go over potential items. Each hanger that slides across the rack is seemingly not good enough until you catch a particular pale blue crewneck sweater.

You pull it off the rack and hold it up before calling Suguru’s name; he looks up from his position a few aisles over and walks over.

“What about this?”

He looks it up and down and shrugs slightly. “Uh, sure?”

You scowl at the man and rest it along the hangers on the rack to get a better view of how the entire garment looks. “You’re not helping– I need to make sure it looks good.”

Suguru stands idly next to you, frustration building in his veins. He’s been to the mall with you dozens of times, both in a group and privately, but this particular time has him feeling agitated. He tells himself it’s because he hasn’t slept well recently, because he skipped lunch, or because he’s sick of walking around a packed shopping mall when you both could be back on his couch playing Jenga.

Realistically, it’s because of you. The way you're doting over every detail of a sweater for his best friend and not even giving the man at your side a sideways glance. It’s nothing new– you and Satoru have been family friends for years, but something about this moment seems to get under his skin more than usual.

Maybe because it’s the first time you and Satoru are going to be together without either one of you telling him about it. The thought of slowly getting isolated from your life does more than annoy Suguru: it terrifies him.

“Hellooo? Do you think it’s ok?”

“Hm?” He snaps out of his thoughts and examines the sweater. “Yes, it looks good. I’m sure he’d like it.”

You pause and huff slightly. You know Suguru well enough that something is bothering him, but you also know that if you push it, he’ll just retreat further. Dropping your gaze to the garment, you fish out the price tag from the collar and whine at the amount of zeroes printed

“Ok, well it was on this sale rack. So I’ll have it priced checked… and if it’s not on sale, I’ll go to the home section.”

You place the garment over your forearm and walk towards the woman’s section now–set on finding a dress for the weekend. Suguru trails behind you and apathetically looks at the clothing racks with his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets; he’s making no effort to show his unamusement with the outing.

Trying your best to ignore the way he unzips his parka from the heat in the store and adjusts his pale gray crewneck, you make a beeline for the dress section. He follows you and stands beside you this time, no longer loitering several aisles over, and watches as you skim through a variety of options.

“Too long, too mature, too..eugh–” you mumble while sliding hanger after hanger down the rack until a clerk walks by.

“Hi there! Looking for anything in particular?”

You look up at the woman and shrug slightly. “Oh, no. Just browsing!”

Suguru stands silently at your side and the employee looks him up and down before noticing the sweater hanging over your arm. “Well, if you and your boyfriend want to color match, please let me know! We have a great selection of evening wear that just came in.”

You freeze and try to mumble an excuse while she smiles and promises to get a fitting room unlocked after you make your selection. Sighing in relief when she finally leaves, you turn to Suguru to make a joke when you notice him standing there with a frown across his face.

“That was awkward, hah. As if I’d want to match with Satoru–”

“Are you almost done?”

Stumbling slightly, you furrow your brows at the man before pivoting to face the clothing rack and slide a few more hangers down. Ok, now he is starting to make you annoyed too.

“Yea, geez. You can wait outside by the food court if this is too much.”

He scoffs and you ignore it before pulling out a satin mini dress that was tucked in between two other dresses. Someone had definitely tried to hide it, and lucky for you it was just your size.

Pulling it back and resting it on top of the other hangers, you admire the cut of the fabric. It was an A-line black satin mini dress with an open back and an overall length that would fall to your mid thigh. A little short for an evening dinner with family, but you could add tights and high boots to it to even it out.

“This is nice.” You run your hand down the fabric and admire the smoothness of the dress before pulling out the price tag. “A little pricey… but I would definitely wear it more than once.”

Suguru leans over your shoulder. “That?”

You spin and look up to face him. “What? You don’t like it?”

“Aren’t you going to a family dinner?”

“Yea– but I could wear this more than once.”

Suguru scoffs and folds his arms, his eyebrows furrowed to nearly a ‘V’. Having enough of his childish behavior, you mirror his position and stand upright. “Ok, what the fuck is your problem?”

He looks taken aback before rolling his eyes and retreating slightly; he looks away as if there was no issue. “Problem? I don’t have one. I just want to go home.”

You step forward to make up the distance he created. “No, you’ve been having a shitty attitude since we got to the mall. So what’s up?”

“I already said I’m fine, ok? Leave it.”

His voice raises and you increase your volume to match; it’s becoming an entire argument. “You’re lying. Just say what’s wrong so I can understand what your problem is.”

Suguru steps forward and looks down at you menacingly, the intimidation causing you to back up slightly and hit your lower back on a clothing hanger. “I don't have a problem. If you want to dress like a slut at his family dinner, then go ahead.”

There’s a silence that immediately follows as the words leave his lips and you stand there frozen. Never, has Suguru ever called you a slut. Not once.

When your shitty ex-boyfriend called you one for having male friends, Suguru was there to argue on your behalf. And when a sleazy guy once called you a whore for refusing to sleep with him, Suguru was there to punch him in the face– and effectively spent the evening at the local police department while you and Satoru tried to clear his name.

The word hurts; this hurts. And you can tell the moment it leaves his lips, Suguru is trying to find a way to reverse time and take it back.

“I… I didn’t mea–”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off and grab the dress from the rack before tossing it over your forearm and making a move to walk away as soon as possible.

He’s hot on your heels behind you as you head for the fitting room. “y/n… y/n wait. Please–”

You shrug off his hand on your shoulder and shove him back slightly, eyes narrow and cold as you glare at him. “No, it’s fine. You said what you thought– just go home if you’re going to judge me for my clothing choices.”

Spinning back around, you increase your speed towards the stall doors of the changing area.

“That’s not what I meant.. You know that–”

“I don’t know how else to interpret you calling me a slut. Listen… just go home. I’ll call Shoko and have her pick me up.”

The man shakes his head and tries trailing you again before you disappear down the hallways of fitting rooms and slide into the largest one at the back corner.

He stands at the entrance for a few moments, his mind replaying the moment over and over again. Standing frozen, he steps back and runs frustrated hands through his hair and tugs on his scalp in self-hatred.

FUCK

He didn’t mean to call you that– he’s never called you anything malicious on purpose. Sure, your entire friend group will jokingly call each other dicks, bitches, jackasses, and more; but you’ve never meant it.

Suguru huffs a few times and runs a hand down his face, tugging his lower eyelids down with force as he tries to think of a way to salvage this. Meanwhile, you shimmy out of your puffer coat, quarter zip, and jeans before stepping into the black satin dress.

It’s hard to look at your own reflection in the floor to ceiling mirrors that adorn the large fitting room; dejectedly, you sit on the large bench that hugs the opposite wall and tuck your hands into your face.

The dress is cute, perfect even, but you can’t help the weight in your chest that’s tugging you down a hole of self deprecation. Were you trying too hard? Looking back up into the mirror and standing to see the reflection, you notice every detail you wished would change.

Stretch marks adorn your skin in certain places, a few bumps and bruises from moments you don’t remember, and the aspects of your figure you wish would be just a little bit different. Maybe the dress was perfect, but the woman inside felt far from it.

Eyes dropping in disappointment, you spin to fish your phone from your jeans pocket to call Shoko before a knock on the door rings out. You place your phone back on the bench before you can draft a message and move to open it– expecting the clerk from earlier.

Dark, nearly purple eyes, meet your own and you immediately slam it shut and turn the lock.

“y/n, wait.”

“No, leave Suguru.”

He sighs through the door and tries the handle before knocking again. “Please– please just open it. I want to apologize”

“I don’t care what you have to say.”

Suguru bangs on it again and the door creaks from the force. “I’ll break it if I have to… you know that.”

You groan knowing he literally would, and turn the lock to let him in. Vulnerable and sad eyes meet yours as he steps in and shuts the door behind in the process. The lock clicks back into place while you walk deeper into the room to gain some space.

“Ok, so talk.”

Suguru drags his eyes up and down your figure a few times before awkwardly standing in the center of the room; you slouch and move to cover yourself with your arms as you lean against the opposite wall.

“I..” he starts before awkwardly coughing and shoving his hands deep into his baggy blue jean pockets. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it… I’m just… not in the best mood is all.”

You sigh and look at the floor. “Ok, great. Now that you’ve spoken, you can leave.”

Suguru pauses, shocked, before huffing slightly in frustration. “No, you don’t believe me. Just listen–”

“I am listening, Suguru. You never explained why you had a stick up your ass and then snapped at me suddenly. So if you want to go sulk just do it somewhere else… I don’t care anymore.”

You do care. He knows it and so do you, but you both know as stubborn as he is to communicate his feelings, you’re just as rigid when it comes to admitting he’s gotten under your skin.

“I just…” he takes his hands from his pockets and rubs his face in frustration. “It just annoyed me to see you going all out for him, ok? All this effort for a cute sweater, and taking your time to find a dress–that dress, to wear in front of him…”

He doesn’t make any sense to you. You’ve gotten dolled up and dressed pretty for frat parties and dinners with your friends dozens of times in the past, this one doesn’t feel any different.

You roll your eyes and catch your appearance in the mirror again, looking forlorn at the way the fabric clings onto you. “It’s fine. I’m not getting this dress anyways…”

The man in front of you pauses and softens his gaze when he notices the way you’re picking your appearance apart in the mirror before his eyes. “..What? Why not?”

“It just doesn’t look good is all…” You reply softly, standing upright and moving back to the bench to get your clothes in order.

Suguru knows this is his fault as you dejectedly pull your jeans out from under your parka and shake them slightly to unravel from their crumpled position.

“What? It looks beautiful– you look beautiful.”

Shaking your head slightly, you turn to him with an annoyed look and scoff. “Riiight. From a slut to beautiful in under 10 minutes is quite the turn around. Any other contradictions you’d like to add? Or can you leave so I can get changed?”

You don’t let him apologize, too pissed off to give him even the grace to accept his attempts at mending the argument; Suguru steps forward, having enough, and pulls your jeans from your hands.

“Can you– can you just fucking listen?”

Ready to argue again, you raise your voice. “Huh? You’re the one th–”

“Just,” he grabs your shoulders and holds you straight. “Shut the fuck up. Ok?”

You glare at him but remain silent nonetheless as he takes a breath before continuing. “I was wrong ok? I let my feelings get in the way and called you something I never wanted to. I just…”

He sighs and dips his head down slightly to stare at the corner of the fitting room, internally deciding how he should word everything. “I–” he gives a long exhale before peeling his eyes to meet yours, beginning to spew out everything at once. “I like you. Ok? And, I know, trust me I know, we’re friends and are in the same friend group and this is so fucking stupid and could literally ruin everything… but– I can’t control that. I can’t control the fact that I’m in love with you and it’s killing me.”

You stare wide eyed at him as he pours his heart out in an act of vulnerability you’ve only seen a few times before. Long raven hair falls forward as he grips your shoulders slightly tighter as if you’d run away if he let go. “I’ve tried… I’ve tried so many times to ignore it or wish it away but I can’t. And that is what kills me. I shouldn’t care if you and Choso make cookies with Yuji on the weekends. I shouldn’t care when Shoko and Utahime take you to get your nails done after class. I shouldn’t care if you get dinner with Satoru and his family–but I do. And I ruined everything because of it… so, I’m sorry ok?”

Oh, shit.

Standing motionless as Suguru catches his breath and his eyes bore into your own. This wasn’t the situation you were expecting to happen when you had dragged him to the mall, and it certainly wasn’t one you were prepared to address.

Shoko and Utahime had teased you countless times about your stupid crush on the man; his reserved and coy nature was enough to make countless other women flock to him, so you silently resigned and convinced yourself you were ‘ok’ with simply being his friend. He was brutally honest and at the same time, a terrible communicator, and had on more than one occasion resorted to holing himself up in his room rather than face his demons head on. Suguru preferred to suffer in silence than resort to being a burden on his friends, and knowing that he felt the same way about you the entire time makes your heart ache.

“Please… please say something.” His hands remain on your shoulders while his eyes search yours for some sort of answer hidden beneath.

“I..I don’t know what to say,” you whisper honestly.

He winces and peels his head backwards slightly, but his hands remain on your shoulders. Taking a breath of compsore he nods once and attempts to harden his face. “That’s…fine. I’m fine.. if you don’t feel the same. Just, tell me now so I can get this over with and we can pretend it never happened.”

You shake your head slightly. “No, I can’t do that.”

He looks up, mildly confused before you continue, “I can’t pretend this never happened because I do feel the same, Suguru.”

He sucks in a breath and stands a bit taller; his hands fall down to your upper arm as he looks at you steadily for several moments to process what was happening.

“Oh. Oh. Woa, ok… That’s better than what I was expecting to be honest…”

You both stand there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what was supposed to happen now. Sucking in your bottom lip to moisten it, you watch as Suguru rocks once on his feet as he tries to formulate something else to say. Something to address the elephant in the room.

“So… what now–”

“--Prove it,” he interrupts.

You pause and raise an eyebrow. “Huh? Prove what?”

“Prove that you like me more than him.”

Blinking a few times, you shake your head slightly. “Him? Satoru? Seriously, Suguru? I just admitted I feel the same way as you do and now you want me–”

“–So show me you do.”

Huffing slightly as he lightens the atmosphere slightly with his signature fox-like smirk, you stand a bit taller. “Stop interrupting m–”

“–I will after you– hmpf”

In an instant your lips on his and Suguru is effectively silenced from annoying you any further. His lips are soft and pillowy; a thin layer of chapstick coats them in a honey flavor you commit to memory before pulling away slightly.

Suguru slides his hands down your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps at his touch, before snaking them around your waist to pull you in closer. Pupils blown so wide his irises are nearly engulfed in black, he scans your face with the same grin that leaves his canines exposed.

“Mmm, I’m still not convinced, princess”

Your own mouth curls into a smile as you wrap your arms around his neck to tug him down; your spine arches at tension and you can feel your nipples hardening through the thin fabric at your chest. “It’s not my fault you’re jealous.”

The fingertips that hold your waist steady increase their pressure and effectively render you motionless in front of him. Suguru lets out a low chuckle and shakes his head slightly; his eyes soften at your tease as he relaxes into the moment. “Of course I’m jealous. You were gonna get dressed up all pretty for another guy– can’t let my girl go doing that.”

Noses nearly touching, you smile into him and tilt your head to the side. “ ‘Your girl’, huh?”

“Yea, you got a problem with that?” His lips break into a grin and are parted so prettily just above your own.

When you fake taking a moment to ponder, he drags a hand up to tug your jaw to reface him; he holds it steadily in place while pushing his head forward to collide his lips onto yours.

The movement has force behind it, and the rhythm of his lips rocks your head in moving waves to sync with his pace. Delicious chapstick rubs off further onto you and saliva drips down the crease of both of your lips and coats your chin. Sighing impatiently, his hand leaves your jaw and drops back to your waist before dipping further to knead the flesh of your ass.

Groans escape your lips as he pivots to push your back flush against the mirror; you tangle your hands in his long hair, careful to avoid pulling on any sensitive piercings that adorn his ears. Moans vibrate against your mouth as a few particular tugs against his scalp leave him pinching and squeezing your ass with enough force to leave a few bruises.

It’s hot. So fucking hot. The heat is blasting within the store and you can feel beads of sweat dripping at your inner thigh– oh wait. It’s not sweat.

Suguru steps back hastily when you glide your tongue over his bottom lip to deepen the kiss. Hands hesitantly glide through his hair as he makes distance; a few curses leave his mouth when he tugs his arms out of his winter coat and throws it to the floor. Immediately after, he tugs the light gray sweatshirt off as well and is left in a basic white-tee. The action has the garment raised just slightly enough to see a chiseled ‘V-line’ snake into his trousers, and a partially unkempt happy trail that starts at his navel and disappears below the belt line.

Your pussy gushes and clenches pathetically around nothing at the sight. You’ve seen him shirtless before plenty of time, but this one is different. He’s not undressing to go for a swim at a party house Satoru rented and he’s not undressing to walk Megumi’s dogs outside in the summer when he’s busy; he’s undressing for you.

“Why don’t you take a picture, pretty girl? It’ll last longer.”

Looking up and rolling your eyes, you try desperately to act as if the moment isn’t affecting you as much as it really is. Unswayed, he steps forward and reconnects your lips with his tongue languidly sliding in your mouth as if he owned it.

A cool metal orb clinks every so often against your front teeth from the piercing that sits in the center of his tongue; the feeling of it rubbing along every crevice of your mouth leaves you panting for air.

Closed mouth kisses leave you chasing his lips for the delicious honey flavor while open mouth ones cause his tongue to rub with your own. No molar is left unchecked and no surface of your lips remain untouched by his own.

The mirror is cool on your back from the way the dress exposes your skin; still arched, his hands knead the flesh of your ass a few more times before resting on where your rib cage meets your lower torso.

Suguru leaves your lips for a moment before placing fervent hot pecks on the corner of your mouth and down the side of your jaw until he reaches your pulse point. Heart rate so intense under the flesh he can feel the beat on his lips, Suguru chuckles dryly to himself.

“Fuck princess, you’re getting all worked up f’me? Heh… better leave a few ‘thank yous.’”

Before you can murmur a response, sharp canines dig into the flesh while his lips pucker on your skin to suck. The sensation is nearly painful but leaves you grinding desperately into his body aching for more. Popping the suction to bite and kiss the skin, before running the flat of his tongue over the marked skin in apology, Suguru trails hot lips to another open spot for him to repeat the process.

It’s dirty and possessive the way he keeps you so obediently still in his hands while his mouth marks you as if it were a brush and your delicate skin an awaiting canvas. Whimpers escape you as he trails onto yet another spot and you’re getting desperate for even more.

Hips jerking forward slightly once more as he runs his tongue flat up your throat, cooling the skin with his piercing, your pelvis grinds into his crotch. Erection straining uncomfortably despite his baggy jeans, Suguru groans at the friction and holds you further still.

“S-Stop squirming.. Ha..” He pants out while keeping his gaze firmly on your throat with predatory eyes. Tilting your head slightly with his nose to make you face the other way, he dips his mouth back down to the other side of your neck. “Gotta even it out first. Then, I’ll deal with her.”

Mind foggy from the feeling of his lips reattaching to suck mean hickies along the side of your neck, you nearly miss the way one of his hands has snaked down to pinch the bottom hem of your dress teasingly.

Suguru’s nose tickles the patch of skin under your ear as he bites down under your jaw and leaves a small line of saliva dripping down your neck and onto the plush top of your breast.

“Shit..better clean up.”

Without hesitation, he chases after his own spit and begins leaving open mouth kisses to the top of your tits. His head is dipped down into your chest, causing his hair to tickle your skin and effectively block the erotic view of his mouth attempting to suck as much of your breast he’s physically able.

“Suguru–” you whine out pathetically from now above him.

He places a few more kisses to the other breast before chuckling; the vibration between the valley of your breasts leaves you aching for him to just fuck you already.

“Patience, pretty girl.” He stands up right to tug the straps of your dresses down slightly and guide your arms to shimmy out.

Once both pieces of fabric fall under your arms, he takes both hands to pinch the top of your dress and tugs down to free your tits. Nipples hard in arousal, you instinctively react to cover them before deft hands catch your own.

“Hey now, why are you covering them up? Fucking beautiful…” he mumbles while releasing his grasp to pinch both nipples and smile when you squirm at the sensation. “Even better than I’ve imagined…”

Instantly he dips back down to suck and bite on your right nipple while his hand kneads and grasps at the fat of the other. Teeth pinch the flesh before rutting his tongue over the nub over and over again before pivoting to repeat the action to the other breast.

Your panties are beyond saturated with your arousal at this point, and the erection in Suguru’s pants looks painful for how desperate it grinds against the fly of his jeans; despite that, he’s set on taking his time.

After he repeats the action to both breasts for a second time, your impatient hands tugs his hair up to meet your lips. Molding to yours instantaneously, as if they were made to fit together, he sighs happily into you.

Tugging his hair back again, you note the way he nearly whimpers at being denied your lips and stare into his dazy eyes. “Need you Sugu, now.”

In all of his disgusting dreams he’s always tried to forget, Suguru takes his sweeeet time before fucking you sensless. Fingering you with deft hands until you cum and then eating you out to effectively taste every drop of your orgasm is the main appetizer to all of his fantasies; the way you say that stupid nickname leaves him powerless before you.

You always had him wrapped around your finger, even if you never knew it– hell he would kill the world if it made you happy.

But, using the last of his resolve, Suguru steps back and tries to catch his breath and rationality. He runs a hand through his hair and shuts his eyes to come back to earth for a moment; the two of you in a department store dressing room for fuck’s sake.

This is not how he planned it– any of it. Suguru had always planned on confessing over a nice evening walk, maybe the ones you always do when the bar gets too hot and loud and you want fresh air. He’d pretend he can’t light his cigarette from the wind and let you do it for him instead; but at the last second he would drop the rolled tobacco from his lips and pull you in for a kiss.

Then maybe you’d get dinner, and if he was lucky and you were down, you’d go back to his apartment before Satoru noticed you two had disappeared. You be in his bedroom, an album he already selected ready on the player to ease the mood, and he’d be freshly showered and shaved.

But he’s not.

Instead, you’re both here– in a fitting room with top 40 playing on the store speakers, migraine inducing overhead lights nearly blinding his vision, and he’s not sure the last time he’s kept up appearances down there.

The mood is not set for anything other than dressing room panic attacks. But in this moment, with your hair disheveled, tits pouring out from the hottest dress he’s ever seen, and light pants escaping your swollen lips… Suguru is sure he’s never seen you look so beautiful.

“We… we shouldn’t,” he pants out, trying his hardest to not to take you right here and now.

“W-What? Why not?” you scan his face in search of something that rationally limits the line you’ve both already crossed. With a slight shiver of self consciousness, you fold into yourself slightly. “Am I not…what you thought..?”

The way your voice dips slightly leaves Suguru’s heart cracking and he frantically walks back up. “No… no baby you’re beautiful.. Fucking better than I even dreamed of– I just,” he swallows thickly. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Eyeing the way he tries to casually adjust the band of his jeans as if his cock isn’t weeping profusely in his boxers, you take his hand and guide it back to your chest. “Please, Suguru. I want this, I want you.”

Fuck. Any strength left in him is quickly fleeting as you bat your pretty lashes up at him; the sight of you could cause a war in Troy.

“Ok,” he breathes out, coming to terms that this was happening, and slight performance anxiety building in him. “Ok, let’s do this.”

Smiling slightly, you move to capture his lips and rock into him a few times, but before you can savor the moment, Suguru is dropping to his knees. Blind in desire, he kneels before your thighs and hovers eye level with your clothed cunt; pushing the fabric up, he peers up at your dark thong that's fully saturated in slick. The sight alone is enough for him to chuckle pathetically in a daze.

“All this f’me princess? I gotta say my thanks to her.”

Taking the flimsy g-string by the gusset and tugging it to the floor, you kick it off your ankles before he pinches the flesh of your inner thighs. Suguru’s thumbs dig into the skin just under your pussy to pry it open just a bit more, running a long stripe of his tongue across the weeping folds.

Tapping your legs to spread a little wider, you pivot to widen your stance slightly before he dives back into your cunt. It’s a kiss against your pussy similar to the one he had given your lips just minutes earlier; closed mouth kisses that suck the arousal from your folds before his tongue snakes inside your tight hole as if he owned it.

Metallic orb rutting around inside you, your back arches at the feeling and your hand grabs a fistful of his hair. Nose rubbing your engorged clit, Suguru rhythmically sways his head to lick every surface outside and inside your cunt. A few thrusts of his tongue for good measure, he rocks back slightly to slowly push in his middle finger past the first ring of muscular resistance.

“Fuck princess.. So damn tight, don’t know if you can even take my cock.”

Eyebrows furrowing at the words and pleasurable sensation, you whimper from above him. “Please Sugu… need it.”

A chuckle escapes his lips as he watches the girl of his dreams, who plagued them every night, desperately rutting against his finger while begging for his dick. Returning his lips to suck on your clit as a second finger pushes inside to rub around in search of your g-spot, you throw your head back against the mirror.

One hand shakily leaves his hair to cover your mouth as he scissors his fingers and rubs his tongue piercing against your clit. Moans threatening to escape your lips are muffled by your hand as he flexes his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion against the rough patch in your pussy.

It’s sudden and intense; your hips twitch against his fingers as your free hand tugs his hair in aggressive pulls. Humming happily from his knelt position between your legs, Suguru pulls an orgasm from you as your cunt spasms from the sensation.

Panting and attempting to catch your breath as Suguru slides his fingers from your soaked hole and pops them in his mouth before leaning back to slither his tongue inside once more.

The overstimulation has you squirming above him. “Ha…ngh w-wait…haaa Suguuu s’too much..”

He mumbles something from under your dress and it takes force to pull his head back and away from your swollen cunt. Slick coats his chin as he looks in a happy daze up from his kneeling position; his eyes almost scream ‘proud of me?’.

Suguru is dragged to his feet by your pulls and feeds you your own orgasm with his tongue. His hands rub complacent circles against your pelvic bones and his still clothed erection grinds just below your navel in desperate search for relief.

“Need you inside me..” you murmur against his lips.

He retreats with a dry chuckle. “I just was.”

“You know what I mean, smartass.”

A coy smirk on his lips, he steps back to slide his belt out of the belt loops and tosses it to the floor. Unzipping the fly and releasing the button, Suguru slides his jeans down and pivots them to the side; you miss the way he kicks your forgotten thong underneath his now discarded pants.

The wet patch on his gray Calvins’ leaves you pausing slightly at the size your best friend had been packing this whole time. Dark raven hair escapes underneath the band of his boxer briefs and his dick twitches from the way your gaze is locked on the shape.

“This is why I prefer to take my time with warm ups…but don’t worry, princess. I think you should be stretched out enough.”

The coy and egotistical statement partially masks his own insecurity as you pivot to the bench the sits along the wall.

What if you thought it looked weird? If you saw he hasn’t shaven in a few days and get turned off? Or if it’s not up to par with your exes–

The sensation of you tugging the waistband down to free his weeping cock pulls Suguru from his thoughts as he steadily examines your reaction. It’s hard to discern what’s going on in your mind as only one word can be formulated in your brain.

Large.

Had he been sheathing this thing in his jeans the entire time??

Longer than any man you’d been with, though not as thick, several veins run from his lower pelvis to the sides of his shaft. A pretty flushed mushroom tip weeps with precum from the slit while some unkempt pubic hair litters his base and heavy balls.

Understanding now the feeling of vulnerability earlier when he had pulled your dress down to expose your tits, Suguru can feel himself internally retreating when you don’t say anything.

Before he can suggest just taking this home and resuming from the comfort of his shared apartment, you lean forward to lick the slit of his cock and plant a few kisses along the shaft.

Shivering from your touch, his cock twitches from its position in your pretty hands. It’s bad. In every pervy fantasy he’s conjured over the years of being your friend, he’s always been the one to make you wither beneath him from multiple orgasms. Not him about to cum from the way you gently jerk him off to test the waters to examine how he likes it.

Gently guiding your hands away, he nudges you to kneel on the wooden bench. “Haa I’ll take you up on that later princess. I just need to be inside you right now.”

Letting him spin you, your arms fold into a 90 degree angle while your knees lift your ass up to meet his pelvis. Calloused hands rub your hips slightly in the doggy position before he pushes the fabric of the dress up once again.

“Wait– do you have a condom?” You mumble while tilting your head back to gaze at the man behind you.

Suguru blinks and snaps back to reality for a few moments while looking down at his discarded jeans. “No…and I don’t have anything to clean up if I pull out…shit.”

He should’ve known that his luck would run out eventually; that there had to be something–

“Stop by the pharmacy after we leave? Get the uh… plan b pill?”

Suguru peels his eyes back to yours and with more excitement than he meant to show, he nods eagerly. “Yea!... I mean.. Yea, that works for me..”

As dark and mysterious as he always tried to act, he was still your dorkish best friend–well maybe a new title considering the current situation. With a nod in approval, Suguru pumps himself a few times before gliding his tip up and down your folds a few times.

Knowing lube would usually be needed, he coats himself in your previous orgasm and growing arousal before spitting in his hand to ensure his cock would slide in with limited discomfort to either one of you.

Pushing down on your shoulder blades slightly to increase the arch of your spine, Suguru lines up his cock with your entrance and begins pushing in slowly. Inch after inch slides inside to the point you’re wondering if there’s any room left in your cunt to accommodate the rest of him.

“Haaa… oh shit– Sugu… ngh”

“Shhh I know… fuck I know princess..”

By the time he bottoms out and you can feel his pubes tickling the skin between your thighs, you’re wondering if his cock is in your lungs from how long he is. Suguru is faring no better above you; pausing to let you adjust while he breathes slowly to imagine a million different scenarios to prevent him from cumming already.

The thesis paper he’s been putting off, the weather for the upcoming week, fuck even imagining the boring way his advisor Yaga drones on about his future isn’t working. Shallow long breaths escape both of your lips until you twitch slightly to indicate your ready for him to move.

A few slow pumps leave his cock sliding halfway out before his tip kisses the opening of your cervix; low groans escape you at the sensation of how deep he was inside you. It was the moment you had shamefully masturbated too countless times, and now it was finally happening as your best friend increases the pace of his dick splitting you open over and over again.

“O-Oh… Sugu haaa”

Labored breaths echo above you as he takes his white tee into his teeth to provide a better view and muffle the sound of his own moans. Heavy balls smack forward and occasionally graze your click while the wet sound of ‘plap! Plap! Plap! reverberates off the walls.

Hands gripping your hips fall forward to snake around your waist as he folds over to hover his chest over your back; Suguru leans partially on the bench as he increases the speed of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt.

He swears your pussy is made for him; sucking him back in with a vice grip to milk him dry. Your nails are desperately digging into the cheap wooden bench for some sense of stability as the roughness of each thrust rocks your body forward until your tits are smushed underneath you. The angle is sharper and causes his tip to hit your g-spot with a gasp.

“H-Here? … gotta fuck you good right ..ngh here, princess?”

A hand snakes around your throat to lightly tug your head up; impatient for a response, you part your drooling lips to answer. “Yes! Fuck.. yes please… right there– Sugu.”

An airy laughs escapes his lips despite the way his body is twitching, eager for a release.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Hi there, ma’am! Is everything alright in there?”

The clerk’s voice from before rings out behind the stall door and Suguru nearly trips over you to pause slightly. Exchanged worried glances are shared between you both as he urges you to respond to avoid suspicion.

“O-Oh, yes! I’m alright, thank you!”

Suguru leans back up to his standing upright position and glances at the door before staring at how your cunt is stuffed so full of his cock. Mind drunk from the way your soaked pussy flutters around him, he begins to shallowly thrust again.

His hand keeps your back in the arched angle when you try to scramble forward from the motion.

“Ok, great! And how’s the size? It’s not too big, right? We have smaller sizes available if you want to try those.”

Suguru has to stop from chuckling and settles for a wolfish toothy smirk as you bite down on your lip to avoid spilling the moans that sit in your throat. A particular thrust has you coughing slightly before looking back up at the man with a competitive gaze.

“No, I’m alright. Thanks.”

The clerk remains in front of the door when you push back on your knees to meet Suguru’s shallow thrust and cause him to bottom out completely in your pussy again. Clenching your muscles to pulse around his cock, he folds forward and bites down on your shoulder to hid the way your name is leaving his lips in puffs.

He was going to cum.

Fuck. He was trying so hard to make you cream on his cock first, but the way you’re desperately throwing your hips back to take his length makes his dick twitch in anticipation. That, and the fact that someone could hear and catch you, makes him hornier than he expected. It’s a day full of learning experiences.

The clerk hums from outside the door about a few other color options before you can hear her heels click down the hallway of the changing room; as soon as her footsteps are out of ear shot, Suguru increases the pace to a brutal jackhammer.

“Shit–sorry princess… haaa gonna cum…gonna fuckin–”

Suguru doesn’t get to finish his sentence, interrupted by the guttural groan that escapes his throat and causes his Adam’s apple to flex slightly. Hips rocking to a staccato, hot ropes of cum pour from his cock and fill your pussy to the brim.

The heat has you whining and craving for your own release as Suguru thrusts himself through his orgasm while catching his breath. Ignoring the way his cock is raw in overstimulation, he reaches down to rub circles on your clit and angle his dick to rub slightly against your g-spot.

“O-Ohhh shit–” you dip your head down between your balled fists of the wooden bench and can feel your hips jutting backward to chase the feeling building in your gut.

“Come on princess…wanna feel you cum on my dick,” Suguru coaches as he whimpers at the way your pussy is flexing and gushing against him.

He makes a mental note to avoid jerking off before the two of you ever meet– in a desperate need to keep up his stamina to give you multiple rounds next time.

Fingers rubbing your puffy clit, the coolness of his ring making you whine, while his cock is rubbing perfectly against your g-spot is all it takes to make your orgasm wash over you. Hands flexing and grabbing at nothing on the wooden bench while your lips part to pant and moan at the feeling; Suguru rubs a supportive hand on the small of your back under your dress as you come down from the high.

There’s a silence as he slips out with a slight wince and appreciates the ring of both of your cum that smeared along his shaft and forms a ring around the base. Tucking his softening cock back into his boxer briefs, he moves to help you sit upright after admiring the way his cum dribbles from your weeping hole.

Covered in hickies, knees red from the position, and his semen leaking from your cunt, you sit up in a hazy daze and look up at the man in front of you.

“You alright, princess?”

Blinking slowly and catching your breath, you nod once and come back to earth; you both move to get redressed quickly.

“What’s with the pet name? I’m not complaining but I just didn’t expect it.”

“Oh that?” Suguru coughs slightly, “I mean…. It’s easier to say ‘you alright, princess?’ than ‘you alright, girlfriend?’ so…”

You pause from the position of reclasping your bra and tugging on your quarter zip to look at him. “Girlfriend..?”

His expression pales as he jumps to get his other leg into the pants sleeve of his jeans. “Oh, did you… did you not want to?”

“No!-” you exclaim a bit too excited. “I mean– I want to date… I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”

Suguru sighs in gratitude before buttoning his jeans and pulling up the zipper; once his belt is secured back around the fabric, he walks over to you and pushes a few strands of hair out of your face. A quick peck against your temple, he gives your ass a quick squeeze before tossing you your pants.

“Wait–” you pause before looking around on the floor. Tugging up the now discarded dress to search underneath, Suguru anxiously looks away as you turn to him. “Where’s my underwear…? I could have sworn it was over he–”

“-- We need to hurry and leave before anyone gets suspicious.” He interrupts while picking up your winter coat parka.

You frown and look at your jeans, not particularly keen on ‘going commando’ in denim. “Yea, but what about when we get back to your apartment?”

He places your coat on the bench and holds open your jeans to step into. “We can shower and I’ll give you a change of clothes. Okay?”

You shrug and resolve to shimmy on your pants with his assistance and awkwardly head out of the changing room one at a time to avoid looking strange. The walking stance is wide to avoid an awkward chafe while Suguru guides you to the nearest self checkout.

The process is quick– both your dress and Satoru’s sweater are on sale, and the two of you power walk out of the mall and drive to the pharmacy near his apartment before returning to your friends inside.

Choso and Shoko sit at the kitchen island in front of a large pizza box while now Nanami and Haibara pour causal drinks for them.

“Oh, when did you guys get here?” you awkwardly ask as Suguru tries to kick off his boot as fast as possible and avoid the suspicious stare of your friends.

Nanami glances between a chuckling Shoko and Choso before turning to Haibara to see if he also knew about what inside joke was being shared. The brunette man shrugs and pays no attention to you as he pulls a slice from the box. “Uhhh, maybe 45 minutes ago? The pizza just got here though!”

You shimmy off your winter coat but ensure your quarter zip is pulled up all the way and shuffle to follow Suguru away from the kitchen. “Oh that’s fine! I’m not hungry right now.”

Shoko smiles as Suguru shoots her a ‘don’t even try’ glare. “Really? You guys were gone for a while. Did you eat anything while you were out?”

Nanami nearly chokes on his beverage, now understanding the implication and horrifically glancing between the both of you while Haibara stands idly in blissful ignorance. “Wait. Didn’t you two go to the mall?”

Wincing at the way your blonde friend stares in disbelief, Suguru grabs your shoulders and guides you to his bedroom. “Yes, we did. Now if you’ll excuse us–”

Walking away, you don’t miss the way Haibara begs Choso to fill him in on what was happening while Shoko tries to get $15 from Nanami as he rubs his eyes in exhaustion. The door clicks behind you and Suguru moves to click on a few table and floor lamps to illuminate the room in a warm glow.

You’ve been here a dozen times, but now the setting feels different; it feels like home as you walk across the plush throw rug that sits beneath his full size bed. Suguru picks an album from his case and plays the record while moving to open the adjacent door to the ensuite bathroom.

Curious to see what could’ve given away the fact that you two fucked at the mall, you stand in front of his mirror and shriek his name in horror.

“Suguru Geto!”

Scrambling from the bathroom as if you had just been shot, he stands in the doorway and meets your angry gaze before sheepishly coughing. In the reflection, you can see the way your light wash jeans are now saturated at the crotch from the way his and your own cum has seeped out of your cunt and stained the fabric.

On top of that, sitting pretty at the top of his laundry basket are your panties– the ones from your gym bag. Snatching the pairs and waving them in front of him you don’t miss the now obvious bulge in his front pocket and a sliver of black fabric peeking from them.

“You pervert! You’ve been stealing them this whole time?!”

He avoids your gaze for a moment before offering a guilty smile.

“Answer me, Suguru! What do you have to say for yourself?”

He shuffles awkwardly and rubs the back of his head. “Uh, I love you?”

“–No. Besides that.”

Admitting defeat, he sighs and takes the thong from earlier out of his pocket and hands it back to you with a guilt expression. “It’s true you left that gym bag in Satoru’s car… but.. It might’ve been his holiday gift to me…? Ha ha…”

Ok you were definitely going to murder and rob that man when he least expected it. Taking your fingers and pinching the bridge of your nose at the fact your friend had gifted your panties to your now boyfriend, and the fact your entire friend group knew you were together is enough to cause a slight migraine.

“You know what, whatever. Keep them–” you push them back into his hands and step around him to start the shower.

Suguru doesn’t hesitate to sock them away in his dresser drawer before you can change your mind and follows you into the bathroom. “Ok… is there something you want?”

Testing the water to ensure it’s warm, you notice the stacked towels and spare clothing Suguru has set aside for you to change into. He watches the way you strip down and silently glances at the shower for permission to follow you in.

Stepping in, you huff with a nod that he eagerly accepts and discards his clothing to join you under the water. Dark raven hair saturates with the water and he tugs it backward to admire the way soap suds of his perfumed shower gel now coat your bruised and loved body.

Gentle kisses on your back and shoulder blades, you sigh in relaxation as his hands massage the tired muscles on your body.

“I got an idea, princess,” he mumbles into your shoulder before spinning you around. “I mean hoodies and sweatpants are yours already, and my car is essential your lost and found so–”

He takes your hand and guides it up to his ear; a variety of piercings and rings are scattered along the flesh. “Pick one.”

You raise an eyebrow and trace his industrial. “What do you mean?”

“Mmm, I’ll change out the jewelry to one with your initial. So pick one.”

Suguru grins with hearts in his eyes as you smile and move to lights touch all of the little jewels and hoops that scatter his ear. Tutting slightly, you withdraw your hand and the smile on his face falls slightly.

He parts his lips to question your choice before your finger slips in his mouth and lightly tug his tongue to fall down past his lower lip. A coy smile on your lips, you raise your other hand and tap the cool orb that sits in the center. “This one.”

Cock hardening at the possessiveness you seem to share, Suguru plants a kiss to your finger and shoots you a toothy smirk. “Consider it done.”

a/n: woooo i finally finished this one!

tbh the plotting for this took longer than actually writing it -> the draft took like 2 weeks and maybe 2 days to actual sit down put it together!

only 2 left in the holiday hoes frat series! but i really like this AU and might continue it with occasional one shots for other themes/characters within JJK

i'm still working on my longer series and regular head cannons i promise~

likes/comments/reblogs all appreciated and i hope you liked it <3

-oatmeal

#jjk x reader #jjk holiday #jjk frat au #jjk one shots #jjk smut #oatmealwrites #oatmealwordsgojosatoru #oatmealwordsholidayhoes #suguru smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x reader smut #suguru x reader smut #jealous suguru #suguru geto #suguru x yn

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n-evermores · 2 days ago

Text

By A Thread

Pairing: Alden Parker x NCIS!Reader Word Count: 6k+ Summary: Parker invites the reader to his cousin’s wedding, where unspoken feelings surface but end in rejection. Days later, a dangerous pursuit in the woods forces them to confront their feelings. Warnings: Age-gap romance A/N: A wedding scenario similar to Knight/Jimmy’s was requested about two years ago. I started writing it and couldn’t bring myself to find the right ending and it’s been stuck in my drafts. I finally decided to polish it up and finish it. This was a while back, which is why the beginning hints at Jimmy and Knight still keeping their relationship a secret.

“Me and Delilah are taking the twins to the aquarium this weekend. They’re already so excited.” Tim grinned, his eyes twinkling with warmth.

“Sounds like you’re a bit excited too,” Jess teased, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

McGee just shrugged, his grin widening. She was right, of course, his face lit up every time he spoke about it.

“I have big plans this weekend too. We’re going—” Jess hesitated, releasing a nervous laugh. “You know.”

“Going where?” you asked, already guessing her plans involved Jimmy. Everyone knew about their relationship, yet she continued to dance around the topic like it was a big secret. Jess just shrugged, bringing her coffee cup to her lips to avoid answering.

Nick threw Jess a side-glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, I’ve got plans too,” he announced with a shrug. “What about you? Any big plans this weekend?” He asked you.

“Nope. Just me, my couch, and Netflix,” you replied with a big, performative smile. The truth stung more than you liked to admit. You wished for something to break the monotony of your weekends. If you weren’t working, you were cooped up inside, watching TV. It was the same boring routine every weekend, and most days you silently hoped for a big case just to shake things up.

“No plans at all?” Jess asked, her surprise evident.

“Yeah, you need to get out more. You’re like a hermit,” Nick teased, his tone light but pointed.

You sighed, half-laughing. “I go to the cafe sometimes. And on occasion, I take myself to the movies,” you countered lightly. “I just never have anywhere to go is all.”

“Would you like somewhere to go?” A familiar voice interjected.

You turned to see Parker rounding the corner, carrying a box of sweets. His eyes flickered with uncertainty as he studied your face. ��My cousin’s getting married this weekend. I was invited, and honestly, I’m not really one for weddings. I could use a plus one.” He offered you a small, nervous smile.

Your heart swelled in your chest at the sight of his hopeful expression. “Will there be cake?” you asked, trying to keep the moment light.

“Well, yeah. It’s a wedding,” he replied, his gaze searching yours. “So? What do you say?”

You stared into his eyes, your resolve crumbling under their gentle intensity. “How could I say no to that face? Okay. Count me in,” you agreed, earning a fleeting look of curiosity from Parker.

As he set the box of sweets down on his desk, you wondered if you’d said the wrong thing. How could I say no to that face? Honestly you may as well tell him you think he's hot. But it was true. How could you say no to him when he looked at you like that?

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at a quarter to six on Saturday,” he said, grabbing a pastry from the box.

Your heart did a little flip, and you took a steadying breath. You’d always loved the group trivia nights at Parker’s place, but you’d longed for a chance to spend time with him alone. The last time was weeks ago when he took you birdwatching. It was a memory you still clung to.

“You’re going to a wedding with Parker?” Nick leaned in, whispering just loud enough for you to hear. “You don’t think that’ll be a little awkward?”

You shrugged, brushing off his teasing. “No. Why would it be?”

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, try not to have too much fun. Parker might not be able to keep up.”

You just shook your head at Nick. You stole a glance at Parker and smiled, excited and nervous all at once. You couldn’t believe you were going somewhere formal with Parker. It almost felt like a date, but you quickly shoved that thought away.

It was not a date.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, scrutinizing your reflection. The cocktail dress was your favorite color, and it struck the perfect balance. It wasn’t too extravagant, but tasteful enough for a semi-formal event. Knight had offered you a long gown during your frantic search for the right outfit, but this felt more like you.

As you studied the curves of your body and the way the dress fit you like a glove, you wondered if Parker would like it. Or even notice it.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the unease bubbling inside you. Meeting Parker’s family was intimidating enough. But more than that, the thought of being introduced as “just a friend” was a bittersweet reminder of your reality.

When the doorbell rang, you grabbed your clutch and hurried to open it. Parker stood there in a black suit with a crisp white button-down. His eyes widened slightly as he took you in.

“Wow. You look incredible,” he said, his voice soft.

You felt your cheeks heat under his gaze. “Well, look at you,” you replied with a smile, taking in how the suit complemented his already handsome face. God, he was just so good-looking, and you found yourself staring a little too long.

“Ready?” he asked, his hand brushing your elbow lightly as he gestured toward the car.

It wasn’t a date, you reminded yourself. But the way his hand lingered on your back as he guided you outside sent your heart racing.

Parker made small talk the entire way there, and you found yourself trying to relax as you tugged at your dress slightly. You were fine when he took you birdwatching, yet this felt different. The two of you, dressed nicely, attending a nice event with possible dancing. It was definitely different than birdwatching.

The venue was buzzing with laughter and chatter as Parker led you to your seats, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. The brief contact was electric, and when it fell away, you missed it instantly.

You felt relief at spotting the familiar face of Roman. However, your relief was short-lived. Sitting next to him was Vivian, Parker’s ex-wife. The sight of her stirred an unwelcome pang of insecurity. You didn't want to feel that way. You liked Vivian, and you had little reason to feel the way you did, but you knew your irrational feelings had everything to do with your even more irrational feelings for Parker

“Dad, you didn’t tell me you were coming,” Parker said, his tone casual but edged with surprise.

“I wasn’t going to, but Viv convinced me,” Roman replied, nodding toward his companion.

Vivian smiled politely, but her gaze flickered to you, cool and appraising. The weight of her scrutiny made you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You brought your hands to your lap, nervously fidgeting until Parker’s hand found yours, stilling your movements.

“You okay?” he asked, leaning in close enough for only you to hear.

“Yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile.

He removed his hand with a small nod. A few moments later, wedding music echoed off the walls and you all stood to welcome the bride as she walked down the aisle.

You stole a glance at Vivian. She wasn't looking at you anymore, and you wondered if perhaps she was just as jealous of you as you were of her. She probably didn't expect to see Parker here with a woman. Or maybe she just didn't trust the situation.

After the newlyweds exchanged their vows, everyone made their way to the reception hall.

The reception was crowded, and you felt fine with Parker by your side, that was until he wasn’t anymoree. After the music began, and the newlyweds shared their first dance, couples began dancing together under soft lights. Your heart sank as you watched Parker and Vivian take to the floor. They moved effortlessly, their shared history evident in the way they laughed together.

A young man approached you, breaking your reverie. “Care to dance?” he asked, his smile probably charming to most, but you found it annoying considering your sudden sour mood.

You glanced at Parker, who gave you a small nod of encouragement from the dance floor. Pushing aside your disappointment, you placed your nearly empty glass of wine down and accepted the man’s hand.

He smiled at you, giving you a quick once over, “Is that your dad you came with?”

You felt heat rise to your face. “Um, no. We work together. His cousin is the bride.”

“Oh, I’m on the groom's side.” He said, twirling you gracefully before pulling you close again, his grip light yet steady. You tried to focus on the rhythm, but your mind wandered to Parker, his attention entirely on Vivian. The sight sent a dull pang through your chest, one you struggled to shake. After moments of going through the motions with your dance partner you were pulled from your thoughts.

"Having fun?" a familiar voice interrupted, startling you. You turned to see Parker, standing a little too close to ignore. His hazel eyes sparkled with amusement, and he extended a hand to you. "Mind if I cut in?"

Your dance partner hesitated but stepped aside, tipping his head politely. "She's all yours."

Parker’s hand settled comfortably on your waist, his other hand clasping yours. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple of awareness through you, one you hoped he didn’t notice.

Parker observed you, tilting his head slightly to study your face. His voice was soft, his gaze curious. “Something on your mind?”

You hesitated, your eyes darting briefly to your previous dance partner, who was now chatting animatedly with another guest near the edge of the dance floor. Parker followed your gaze, his lips curling into a teasing smirk.

“Ah,” he said, his tone playful. “Caught your eye, did he?”

Your face flushed instantly. “What? No!” you protested, far too quickly. “He just asked me to dance.” If only Parker knew it wasn't that stranger who caught your eye. It was him and your gaze has been unwavering ever since.

“Hmm,” Parker murmured, clearly unconvinced. His grin widened, and his gaze flickered back to you. “Then why are you so defensive?”

You rolled your eyes, desperately trying to deflect. “Well, what about you and Vivian? You two seem pretty close. It’s nice that you’re still good friends. That can’t be easy, considering, well, everything.”

Parker’s expression shifted slightly, his amusement giving way to something softer, more thoughtful. “Viv and I have a lot of history,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “We didn’t end things on bad terms, so staying friends just made sense. She’s family, in a way. Her and my dad are still very close.”

You nodded, your fingers fidgeting slightly against his shoulder. “That’s admirable. Not every divorced couple can manage that.”

“It wasn’t easy at first,” Parker said with a small shrug. “But we found something that worked, and it’s been good since.”

The weight of his words hung between you, and for a moment you were too aware of the space, or lack thereof, between you two. The song shifted to something slower, the tempo almost forcing you to step closer. His hand on your waist tightened slightly and you reveled in it, even if it was just because of the dance.

“You’re still quiet,” Parker remarked again, his voice softer this time, almost a whisper. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering away from his intense eyes. “I’m fine,” you lied, your voice not as steady as you’d hoped. “It’s just been a long day.”

Parker didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he held you a little closer, his thumb brushing absentmindedly along the fabric at your waist. “Well, in case I haven’t said it yet,” he murmured, his voice carrying a warmth that made your pulse quicken, “you look stunning tonight.”

Your cheeks heated again, and you couldn’t stop the small, bashful smile that tugged at your lips. “Thanks,” you said softly. He did say you looked incredible when he picked you up, but the way he spoke now just felt different. Did Parker find you attractive? He probably did, but was he attracted to you was the real question you wanted to know.

The rest of the dance passed in comfortable silence, the weight of unspoken feelings lingering between you. As the song ended and Parker reluctantly stepped back, you couldn’t help but wonder if he too felt that quiet pull, the unshakable connection.

But before you could dwell too long on the thought, Parker offered you a crooked smile. “C’mon,” he said, motioning toward the dessert table. “Let’s find something to indulge my sweet tooth.”

“Good, I can use another glass of wine too.” You said and followed him, your heart still fluttering.

At the dessert table, Parker carefully balanced two small plates piled high with slices of cake, his expression one of pure determination. You couldn’t help but laugh as he handed you one and grabbed a fork for himself.

“What?” he asked, grinning as he caught your amused look. “I take dessert very seriously.”

“Clearly,” you teased, taking a small bite of the cake. It was rich, full of flavor, and just sweet enough to make you sigh with contentment. “Okay, I get it now. This is worth the hype.”

Parker chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you for a beat too long before he spoke. “Told you. Weddings might not be my thing, but the cake always makes it worthwhile.”

You felt the heat of his attention and quickly took a sip of wine, the warmth spreading through your chest now more than just from the alcohol. Parker’s presence, his easy smile, the way he always seemed so effortlessly thoughtful, was starting to make your head spin. Or maybe that was the wine.

You finished your dessert, getting yet another glass of wine to wash it down all while Parker continued to eat, obviously not ready to let go of his sweets just yet. You found it cute how his face lit up while he ate. He leaned in conspiratorially. “Want to sneak out for a bit? I could use some fresh air.”

You nodded, grateful for the excuse to escape the crowd and the persistent ache of watching him interact with Vivian earlier. Together, you slipped outside into the crisp night air, the sound of laughter and music fading as the two of you wandered toward a quiet garden behind the venue.

The stars above sparkled like tiny diamonds, their brilliance mirrored in the soft glow of the fairy lights strung through the trees. You hugged your arms to yourself, more for comfort than warmth, as Parker fell into step beside you.

“You okay?” he asked gently, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. “I know I sound like a broken record, but you really have been quieter than usual.”

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. The wine was making you bolder than usual, and for a moment, you considered brushing off his question. But Parker was looking at you with that familiar mix of curiosity and concern, and it made your chest ache.

“It’s nothing,” you said, though your voice didn’t carry much conviction. You gestured vaguely toward the sky. “Just one of those nights, I guess. Too much wine I suppose.”

Parker’s brow furrowed slightly, and he stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Your laugh came out softer than you intended, almost wistful. “That’s the thing, Parker. Sometimes you make it hard to not tell you everything.”

He tilted his head, his expression shifting to something you couldn’t quite read. “Why’s that?”

You glanced away, staring at the stars as if they held the answer. “You’re just always kind to me and always patient with me. Albeit, a little sarcastic," You snorted, and Parker turned to look down at you with mirth in his eyes.

"Did you just use the word albeit?"

You shot him a glare, "As I was saying. You do things like invite me to a wedding just so I wouldn’t spend another weekend cooped up alone.” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling. “You’re just you.”

Parker’s lips quirked into a small smile, his voice soft when he spoke. “I don’t think you realize how easy you make it for me.”

Your gaze snapped to his, your heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean?”

“You,” he said simply, as though the words had always been there, just waiting to be said. “I enjoy your company.”

The weight of his words hung between you, and for a moment, you felt like the ground had shifted beneath your feet. You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your ears. The wine buzzed in your system, loosening your tongue just enough for the truth to slip out.

“Sometimes I think I like spending time with you a little too much,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Parker’s eyes widened slightly. You knew you said too much. He blinked, surprise flickering across his face as if he hadn’t quite heard you right. He stared at you for a beat longer than was comfortable, his fork frozen mid-air over his slice of cake.

“Um,” he started slowly, his voice tinged with uncertainty, “are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You froze, realizing too late how much your words had revealed. The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten. “I didn’t mean,” you stammered, your cheeks burning. “Look, just forget I said anything, okay?”

He didn’t respond right away, his fork finally lowering to his plate. His brows knitted together, and for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Instead, his gaze flickered away from you, toward the stars above, his thoughts clearly racing.

“I’m sorry,” you added quickly, “I’ve had too much wine. That’s all. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Y/N,” Parker interrupted gently, his voice still low but insistent. His eyes met yours again, and you could see the hesitation in them, the cautious way he was picking through his thoughts. “It’s not that I don’t, well, it’s just,” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his usual calm demeanor visibly shaken. “You’re younger than me. I’m your boss. It’s—”

“Complicated,” you finished for him, your lips pressing into a small, strained smile. “I know. Trust me, I know. That’s why I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget it, okay?”

He stared at you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned his attention back to his dessert, his fork clinking softly against the plate. You did the same with your wine, the tension between you palpable as you both sat in silence. The sweetness of the cake and wine felt muted now, the air between you too thick with everything unsaid.

You felt like such an idiot. How could you be so stupid to insinuate such a thing to your team leader, to a man clearly old enough to be your father? You wanted to walk into the night and just disappear into a void of nothing. It was embarrassing.

After a few moments, Parker finally broke the silence. “You’re asking me to forget something that I’m not sure I can,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were talking to himself.

You glanced at him, startled by the confession. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice cautious. Was he trying to admit he felt something too, or was your mind playing tricks on you?

He set his fork down as he met your gaze again. There was a vulnerability in his expression now, one you weren’t used to seeing from him. “Just,” he began slowly, carefully, “that I’ve thought about this before. About you. And I’ve told myself over and over again that it’s better to leave it alone. That it’s just easier that way.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “And now?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he looked away again, his eyes scanning the garden like he might find the answer hidden in the foliage. “Now, I don’t know,” he said honestly.

His words hit you like a tidal wave, but before you could respond, he shook his head, a small, humorless laugh escaping him. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone softer now, almost apologetic. “This isn’t fair to you.”

“Parker,” you interrupted, your voice firm despite the tremble in your hands. “Don’t apologize. Please.”

He looked at you again, his expression conflicted. “You’re right. It’s complicated,” he said after a long pause. “And I need to think hard before I say or do something I can’t take back.”

You nodded, your chest aching as you forced a small smile. “I get it,” you said softly. “Really, I do.”

For a while, the two of you sat there in the quiet garden in silence. The weight of the conversation lingered between you, unspoken but impossible to ignore. And though nothing had been resolved, the air between you seemed different.

The drive back was quiet.

The sound of the engine and Parker's choice of music filled the space between you, neither of you daring to break the silence. Parker’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles faintly pale against the leather. You stole a glance at him, noticing the way his jaw was clenched, like he was deep in thought or maybe fighting with himself.

You weren’t sure what to say, and honestly, you weren’t sure if you should say anything at all. The tension from earlier still hung in the air, thick and heavy, leaving you to pick nervously at the hem of your dress.

When Parker pulled up outside your apartment building, the car rolled to a stop, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The quiet stretched, the weight of unspoken words settling in your chest. Finally, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, moving to your side to open the door for you.

The two of you walked to your door in silence, the sound of your heels clicking softly against the pavement the only thing breaking the stillness.

When you reached your apartment door, you turned to face him, clutching your clutch tightly in both hands. Parker stood just a step away, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched like he was bracing himself against the night chill, or maybe his own thoughts.

“Good night,” he said finally, his voice low and steady.

“Good night,” you replied softly.

He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if searching for something. Then, before you could react, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was soft, tentative, and yet it sent a jolt of warmth through you that made your breath catch.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” he murmured, his lips just barely brushing your skin as he pulled back.

The moment lingered awkwardly, both of you standing too close, and neither of you willing to step away. The air between you felt voltaic, and your heart pounded in your chest as his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“Parker,” you started, your voice unsteady, but you didn’t get the chance to finish.

His hands reached up, seizing your face with a sudden urgency that made your breath hitch. And then his lips were on yours, hard and demanding, his kiss stealing the words from your mouth and replacing them with something far more primal.

Your clutch dropped to the floor as your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his suit jacket as you kissed him back just as fiercely. The world around you disappeared, the only thing that mattered was the way his lips moved against yours, the warmth of his hands on your skin. You moaned into the kiss, pushing yourself flush against him. Your back hit the door, his hands moving to your waist to grip the fabric of your dress. You closed your eyes as he stippled soft kisses down your neck, and you buried your fingers in his hair.

But just as quickly as it began, it ended. Parker pulled back abruptly, his breathing unsteady, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment longer before falling away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice rough, filled with equal parts regret and something deeper, something raw. He took a shaky step back, running a hand through his hair. “Good night.”

Before you could respond, he turned and walked away, his pace brisk, almost hurried. You stood frozen in place, watching him retreat to his car, your heart pounding and your lips still tingling from the kiss.

When he climbed into his car and drove off, you let out a shaky breath, finally letting yourself move. You unlocked your door and stepped inside, closing it behind you with a soft click. You leaned back against it and let out a long sigh, your head tilting back as you tried to process what had just happened.

Your fingers brushed your lips and then your neck, the memory of his kiss still fresh, still vivid. You could still feel the roughness of his beard against your skin, and the way his lips left soft kisses down your neck. You shivered at the recollection, yet he ripped himself from you too easily. You had no idea what this meant. What any of it meant but you knew one thing for sure.

Work was going to be interesting.

The next workday felt different, though you weren’t sure if it was real or just in your head. Parker had come in as he usually did, setting a box of pastries on his desk for the team, a small gesture of normalcy that only seemed to highlight how not normal things felt now.

The team gathered like clockwork, drawn to the smell of freshly baked goods, but you lingered at your desk, unwilling to engage too quickly.

Jessica Knight grabbed a pastry first, taking a big bite before leaning casually against Parker’s desk. “So,” she started, her voice light and curious, “how was the wedding?”

Parker, who was in the midst of placing his jacket over his chair, froze for the briefest of moments. He recovered quickly, straightening and offering a tight smile. “Good,” he said simply, his tone clipped.

Knight raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more. “That’s it? Just ‘good’? I figured with you dragging Y/N along, there’d be some kind of funny story.”

Your heart lurched at the mention of your name, and you busied yourself with your computer screen, pretending to be engrossed in an email.

“Nope,” Parker said quickly, almost too quickly. “It was a nice wedding.” He cleared his throat and turned back to his files, signaling the end of the conversation.

But Nick wasn’t about to let it go. “So,” he called out with a sly grin. “How about you? Did you have fun?”

You froze, your hands pausing mid-typing as all eyes turned to you. You forced a smile, keeping your gaze firmly on your computer screen. “Yeah,” you said, your voice slightly too bright. “It was nice.”

The tension in the room was visible, and you could feel everyone’s curiosity like a weight pressing down on you. Knight’s gaze lingered, her sharp eyes darting between you and Parker, but for once, she didn’t press further.

Nick, however, let out a low whistle. “Okay, well, that was awkward,” he said with a chuckle, grabbing another pastry.

You muttered something about needing coffee and quickly excused yourself, heading for the break room and praying no one followed. All you could think about was the kiss and Parker's retreating form as he scurried away from you like a mouse from a cat. How were you supposed to work with him when you couldn't even look at him anymore?

The rest of the day passed in a blur, though you were painfully aware of every moment Parker spent in the same room as you. He didn’t try to talk to you, not that you gave him much of a chance. You avoided his gaze, kept your responses brief, and made yourself as inconspicuous as possible.

But as the afternoon wore on, you couldn’t avoid him forever.

You stepped into the elevator on your way to drop off some files, only for the doors to slide open again almost immediately. Parker stepped inside, his presence filling the small space and making the air feel heavier.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his tone cautious.

You nodded stiffly, keeping your eyes on the glowing panel of floor numbers.

The silence stretched, thick and unbearable, until Parker suddenly reached over and hit the emergency stop button. The elevator jolted to a halt, and the lights dimmed slightly, bathing the small space in a muted glow.

You turned to him, startled. “What are you doing?”

“Yeah,” he began, his voice steady but low, “we need to talk about last night.”

“There’s no need,” you said quickly, your voice sharp as you crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s fine. Just leave it.”

He stepped closer, his brow furrowed, his hands clenched at his sides. “It’s not fine,” he said firmly. “I crossed a line, and I need to apologize for that.”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and something deeper. “Don’t apologize again.”

He blinked, taken aback by the bitterness in your tone. "I was out of line.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say that.” you snapped, your words coming out harsher than you intended. “Just drop it, okay? Pretend it didn’t happen. You’re my boss, and it’s complicated, and I get it. I get it, Parker.”

The hurt in your voice was undeniable, and Parker’s expression shifted, guilt flickering across his face. He opened his mouth to respond, but you shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” you said quietly, your voice breaking slightly.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the silence heavy with all the things you weren’t saying. Finally, Parker nodded, his jaw tightening as he reached out to release the emergency stop. The elevator jolted back to life, the lights returning to full brightness as the hum of movement filled the space once more.

When the doors slid open, you stepped out without a word, your heart pounding in your chest as you walked away. This time you were like the mouse running from the cat and you couldn't bring yourself to look back.

And Parker? He stayed behind in the elevator, leaning back against the wall and running a hand over his face, the weight of what happened pressing down on him like a tidal wave.

The next time you and Parker said anything to each other was on the field. You mostly kept things professional, but now you were knee deep in a new case, and you had no choice but to interact.

Your suspect was hiding away somewhere in a cabin, and you and Parker went to question them. Of course, they ran off into the woods, only making themselves look more guilty.

"We've got a runner!" You shouted as you took off after them. You were fast, but the suspect obviously knew the woods better than either of you, navigating the trails with ease.

The sound of snapping branches and heavy breathing filling the air as you chased the suspect through the uneven terrain. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, the pounding of your boots against the forest floor matched the thudding of your heart. Parker was just a few steps behind you. You didn’t slow down.

The suspect glanced over his shoulder, his eyes wild as he realized how close you were. He darted to the left, trying to lose you in the dense trees, but you pushed harder, your legs burning as you closed the distance between you. You heard Parker call your name, telling you to be careful, but you didn’t stop.

You caught up to him just as he stumbled over a fallen log. Launching yourself forward, you tackled him to the ground. He let out a grunt of surprise, but before you could pin him fully, he twisted beneath you, throwing an elbow that knocked the wind out of you. You gasped, trying to recover, but he was quick. He shoved you off, scrambling to his feet as you fought to regain yours.

Parker’s voice called from somewhere behind you, but you barely registered it. The suspect turned on you again, swinging wildly. You ducked, countering with a punch to his side that made him stagger. You went to grab him, but with a sudden burst of strength, he shoved you hard.

Your foot slipped on the damp earth, and before you could find your balance, you felt your body lurch backward. The world tilted, and suddenly you were falling. The edge of the embankment crumbled beneath you, and you plummeted down a small ledge, crashing into the freezing rush of the river below.

The icy water hit you like a brick wall, stealing the breath from your lungs as the current dragged you under. You fought to break the surface, your limbs thrashing as the water pushed and pulled at you mercilessly. Panic set in as you struggled to stay afloat, the roar of the river filling your ears.

“Y/N!” Parker’s voice cut through the chaos, and through the blur of water and adrenaline, you saw him at the edge of the riverbank. His eyes were wide with fear as he searched for you, his weapon already holstered, his pursuit of the suspect completely abandoned.

Without hesitation, Parker leapt into the water. The current dragged at him immediately, but he fought against it, his desperate strokes propelling him toward you. You managed to grab onto a jagged rock protruding from the water, clinging to it desperately as he closed the distance.

“Hold on!” he shouted, his voice strained.

When he finally reached you, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you free from the rock and against his chest. You could feel the strength in his grip as he fought to keep both of you above water, his breath ragged as he swam toward the shore.

After what felt like an eternity, Parker dragged you onto the muddy riverbank, collapsing beside you as the two of you gasped for air. Your body trembled violently, both from the cold and the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“Y/N,” Parker rasped, his voice shaky as he sat up and pulled you into his arms. “Oh, thank God. Thank God you’re okay.”

You sank against him, your head resting on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you tightly, like he couldn’t bear to let go. His hand brushed over your face, wiping away the wet strands of hair clinging to your skin as his eyes searched yours.

“I thought I lost you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

Your heart ached at the raw emotion in his words, and without a second thought, you reached up, your hand brushing his cheek. His gaze softened, and before you could even process what was happening, the two of you leaned in at the same time, your lips crashing together in a desperate, breathless kiss.

The kiss was messy, urgent, and filled with days of yearning since your last one. His hands cupped your face as you gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, neither of you caring about the mud or the cold. The kiss was pure, unspoken emotion, a silent confirmation of everything that had been building between you.

When you finally broke apart, you pressed your foreheads together as you tried to catch your breath. The world felt quieter now, the roar of the river fading into the background. Parker’s thumb brushed over your cheek, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were really okay.

You broke the silence first, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “If you apologize again, I swear I’m going to throw you in the river.”

A startled laugh burst from him, the tension breaking as he smiled down at you. “Noted,” he said, his voice warm with amusement.

And then he kissed you again, slower this time, his lips lingering on yours like he wanted to savor every second. As your arms wrapped around each other, the chaos of the day faded into the background. For now, this moment was all that mattered.

#alden parker x reader #alden parker #ncis x reader #alden parker x femalereader

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movingmusically · 12 hours ago

Text

Unscripted - Part 2

Original Request:

Can I request an austin one shot where austin and single and the female lead is not she is In an high profile relationship like tomdaya and they are happy and engaged but she and austin are co starring In a movie together and they fell in love

Word Count: 8,836

Masterlist

Part 1

The flight back home felt surreal, the stark contrast between the immersive world of the film and the polished, relentless pace of your everyday life almost jarring. As your car pulled up to the house you shared with Jack, a wave of guilt swept over you. This was your life, your future, and yet, for the first time, it felt like you didn’t quite belong in it.

Jack greeted you at the door with his signature easy smile, pulling you into a warm hug. “Welcome back,” he murmured against your hair, his hands firm on your back. The familiarity of his touch was grounding, but it also brought with it a weight you couldn’t ignore. You hugged him tighter, hoping the embrace would erase the unease that had taken root inside you.

“Thanks,” you said, stepping back and offering a small smile. “It’s good to be home.”

He helped you with your bags, asking about the shoot as you walked inside. You gave him the highlights—the beauty of Big Sur, the camaraderie of the cast and crew, the challenges of working without a script. You kept your answers vague, glossing over the depth of what the project had meant to you and avoiding any mention of Austin. Somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about the connection you’d built on set or the moments that still lingered, unbidden, in your mind.

For the first few days, things slipped into an easy rhythm. You and Jack ordered your favourite takeout, caught up on TV shows you’d missed, and stole quiet moments together in the calm of your shared home. It felt familiar, comforting even, but there was something underneath it all—a distance neither of you acknowledged but both seemed to feel.

The tension only surfaced when the topic of the wedding came up again during dinner one evening. Jack had been scrolling through photos on his phone, showing you images of grand venues with towering ceilings and sprawling gardens.

“What about this one?” he asked, holding the screen toward you. The estate was stunning, no doubt about it, but its grandeur made your stomach twist.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “But don’t you think it’s a bit… much?”

Jack frowned slightly but kept his tone light. “It’s a wedding. It’s supposed to be big, isn’t it? We’ve only got one shot at this—don’t you want to make it memorable?”

“I do,” you said softly, setting your fork down. “But memorable doesn’t have to mean hundreds of guests or some enormous venue. I’ve always imagined something smaller. Something more personal.”

He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a thoughtful expression. “Smaller, like what? A backyard barbecue?”

You let out a soft laugh, though the comment stung more than you cared to admit. “Not a barbecue, but something more like a celebration. Just the people closest to us, somewhere relaxed where we don’t have to worry about keeping up appearances.”

Jack exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I hear you. I do. But I think you’re underestimating how much people expect from us. We’ve got friends, family, colleagues—all of them are going to want to celebrate this with us. A small wedding just isn’t practical.”

You felt your chest tighten, the weight of his words settling heavily. “I know there’s a lot to consider, but I just don’t want us to lose sight of what this is about: us. Not everyone else.”

Jack nodded slowly, but his expression didn’t soften. “I’m not saying it’s all about everyone else, but they’re part of our lives too. We owe them something.”

The conversation ended there, but the knot in your stomach remained long after you’d cleared the dishes. Jack retreated to the living room to make a few work calls, and you found yourself staring out the kitchen window, the ring on your finger catching the faint glow of the streetlights outside. It wasn’t just the wedding. That much was clear.

The next weekend, you and Jack stepped out for brunch at a café in the heart of the city. The morning was crisp, the kind of autumn day that begged for warm drinks and quiet conversation. You tried to focus on the present, to enjoy the simplicity of being with Jack, but the weight of your unresolved feelings was still there.

The conversation lingered as you left the restaurant and walked hand in hand down the quiet street. You didn’t argue, but the difference in your visions for the wedding hung in the air, unspoken but palpable. You wanted to believe it was something you could compromise on, but deep down, you weren’t sure either of you would be entirely happy with the other’s version of your day.

In the distance you spotted the glint of a camera lens. Your stomach sank. Paparazzi.

Jack seemed unfazed, slipping his arm around your waist as you made your way down the street. “Just ignore them,” he said under his breath, his voice calm but firm.

You nodded, but the awareness of being watched made every step feel heavier. The cameras clicked furiously as you reached the car, the flashing lights momentarily blinding. You climbed inside quickly, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding as Jack started the engine.

The headlines came the next day. Pictures of you and Jack walking side by side, smiles faint but stiff, were plastered across tabloids with captions like “Trouble in Paradise?” and “Hollywood’s Golden Couple Looking Less Than Happy.”

Jack tossed one of the magazines onto the kitchen counter, his jaw tight. “Do they ever get tired of making stuff up?”

You glanced at the cover, your heart sinking. “It’s just noise,” you said, trying to dismiss it. “People will forget about it in a week.”

“Still,” he said, his tone sharper than usual. “It’s like they’re waiting for us to fail.”

“We’re not failing,” you said quickly, though the words felt more like a reassurance for yourself than for him.

Jack’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he let out a breath. “I know. Sorry. It just gets to me sometimes.”

The cracks deepened over the following weeks. The conversation about the wedding remained unresolved, each new suggestion from Jack feeling like another reminder of how out of sync you were. But it wasn’t just the wedding—it was the way he talked about the future, about stepping back from acting to start a family.

One evening, as you sat together on the couch, he brought it up again. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice steady. “Maybe after the wedding, we could take some time to really slow down. Focus on what matters. A family.”

You hesitated, your stomach tightening. “You mean… right away?”

“Why not?” he asked, turning to face you. “We’ve both been working nonstop for years. It feels like the right time.”

You stared at him, struggling to find the right words. “I just don’t know if I’m ready for that yet,” you said carefully. “There’s still so much I want to do.”

Jack frowned, his expression a mix of confusion and disappointment. “Like what? You’re at the top of your game. What more do you need?”

“It’s not about needing more,” you said softly. “It’s about… not feeling like I’m done yet. There are roles I want to take, stories I want to tell. I’m not ready to step back—not yet.”

Jack leaned back, letting out a long breath. “I get that,” he said finally, though his tone was resigned. “But at some point, we have to figure out what’s next for us. We can’t just keep going like this forever.”

You nodded, but his words stayed with you long after the conversation ended. The growing distance between you felt insurmountable at times, and no matter how hard you tried to bridge it, the cracks only seemed to widen. You told yourself it was just a phase, that every couple went through rough patches, but deep down, you weren’t sure if that was true.

At night, as you lay beside Jack in bed, your thoughts wandered back to the set, to the quiet intensity of filming, to Austin. You pushed the memories down, but even as you closed your eyes, you couldn’t escape the feeling that the life you’d built was starting to feel like someone else’s.

The gala dinner was as glamorous as you’d expected—a glittering blend of industry titans, rising stars, and carefully curated opulence. The film was already generating buzz, and the event felt like a celebration of its success, even before it had premiered. You arrived with Jack, the two of you quickly swept into a swirl of handshakes, polite laughter, and clinking glasses.

Jack’s hand rested at your waist as you navigated the room together, his charm on full display as he chatted easily with producers and directors. You followed his lead, slipping into the polished rhythm you’d perfected over the years. But despite the familiar ease of it all, your thoughts kept straying to the possibility of seeing Austin.

It didn’t take long. You spotted him across the room, standing in a small circle of people, his laugh low and easy. He looked effortlessly put together in a tailored suit, his presence magnetic even in a room filled with celebrities. Your stomach tightened, a flicker of nerves you couldn’t quite suppress.

Jack noticed your attention shift and followed your gaze. “There’s Austin,” he said, his tone neutral but with a flicker of curiosity.

You nodded, your chest tightening slightly. “Yeah. Should we go say hi?”

“Why not?” Jack said, steering you through the crowd with his usual confidence.

Austin turned toward you as you approached, his expression softening with recognition. You offered him a small smile. “Hi,” you said, your voice warm despite the faint tension you felt.

“Hey,” Austin replied, his gaze flicking between you and Jack. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” Jack said, extending his hand. “Nice to actually get to talk this time. I think we only managed a quick hello when I visited the set.”

“Yeah, it was a busy day,” Austin agreed, shaking Jack’s hand. “It’s good to finally chat properly.”

Jack’s smile was easy, his tone friendly. “Y/N’s told me a lot about the project—it sounded like a really unique experience.”

“It was,” Austin said, his focus briefly shifting to you before returning to Jack. “Definitely one of the most challenging but rewarding projects I’ve ever worked on.”

“It’s a great team,” you added quickly, feeling the need to contribute something. “And Celeste really pushed us in ways I didn’t expect.”

Austin nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, she has a way of doing that.”

There was a brief pause, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but still carried a weight you couldn’t quite define. Jack’s arm rested casually at your back, his presence steady but unmistakable. You shifted slightly under the weight of both their gazes, your pulse quickening for reasons you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Well,” Jack said after a beat, his tone light. “We won’t keep you. I’m sure we’ll run into you again tonight.”

“Of course,” Austin replied, his voice easy. “Enjoy the event.”

“You too,” you said, your voice just barely steady as Jack began to guide you away.

As you walked through the crowd, Jack leaned in slightly, his tone casual. “He seems like a solid guy.”

“He is,” you said quickly, your voice firmer than you expected. “Really professional.”

Jack nodded, his attention already shifting to the next conversation. But as much as you tried to refocus, you couldn’t shake the way Austin’s voice, his presence, lingered in your mind.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of conversations and carefully crafted smiles. Jack was in his element, charming everyone in his orbit, and you tried to match his energy. But every so often, you caught sight of Austin across the room, his presence like a magnet you couldn’t resist.

Eventually, you excused yourself, slipping out onto the terrace for some air. The cool night breeze was a welcome relief, and you leaned against the railing, letting the distant hum of the city settle your thoughts.

“You have a habit of escaping,” a familiar voice said, and you turned to see Austin standing a few feet away, a cigarette between his fingers.

“Only when I need to breathe,” you replied, your lips curving into a faint smile.

He stepped closer, his movements unhurried. There was a moment of silence, not awkward but heavy with something unspoken. You looked out over the city, the hum of distant traffic filling the space between you. Finally, he broke the silence.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, his voice quiet but warm.

“Good,” you said, the word feeling too small for everything you wanted to say. “Busy. You?”

“Same,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Feels like I haven’t stopped since we wrapped.”

You nodded, your mind flashing back to the last days of filming, the weight of everything you’d tried to leave behind pressing against your chest. “The film—it’s been getting great buzz,” you said, your voice soft.

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze shifting to you. “Celeste sent me some of the early edits. It’s… different. In a good way.”

“Different,” you echoed, the word catching in your throat. “That’s one way to describe it.”

He smiled faintly, and for a moment, it felt like you were back on set, caught in the strange, electric connection that had grown between you. His gaze lingered on you, searching, as though he could see the cracks you were trying so hard to hide.

“You’ve changed,” he said finally, his voice low. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but… you seem different.”

The words hit you like a jolt. You looked away, your fingers tightening around the stem of your champagne flute. “It’s been a busy few months,” you said, your voice carefully neutral.

“Busy doesn’t change who you are,” he said, his tone gentle but certain. “But I guess it’s not my place to say.”

Your chest tightened, a swirl of emotions threatening to surface. “It’s complicated,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t press, but the weight of his presence was undeniable. When you turned back to him, his expression was soft, understanding, but there was something else in his eyes—a quiet longing that mirrored the ache you’d been fighting to ignore.

You didn’t notice you’d stepped closer until your shoulder almost brushed his. The warmth of him was a stark contrast to the cool night air, and the faint scent of his cologne sent a shiver down your spine. He looked at you then, his gaze dipping to your lips for the briefest moment before returning to your eyes.

You stepped back quickly, your heart racing. “I should get back,” you said, your voice unsteady. “Jack will be wondering where I am.”

“Of course,” he said, his voice soft, his gaze holding yours for a moment longer than necessary. But as you turned to leave, his voice stopped you. “Y/N.”

You hesitated, your hand on the door.

“I’m really glad we worked together,” he said, his words laced with quiet intensity. “I mean that.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and slipped back inside before the pull toward him could overwhelm you.

Back in the room, you found Jack deep in conversation with a producer, his easy charm on full display. He looked up as you approached, his smile widening as he reached for your hand. You let him pull you close, the warmth of his touch grounding you, even as the echoes of your conversation with Austin lingered in your mind.

The night wore on, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. The space between you and Jack felt more pronounced, every laugh and touch feeling like an act you were performing for an audience. Across the room, you caught sight of Austin one last time. He was talking to someone, his expression relaxed but his eyes distant.

You looked away quickly, guilt and longing warring in your chest. Whatever had shifted between you and Austin, whatever spark still lingered, you knew you couldn’t let it consume you. But even as you told yourself that, you couldn’t escape the feeling that something had been set in motion, something you weren’t sure you could stop.

The car ride home with Jack was quiet, the kind of silence that was comfortable only on the surface. Jack rested his hand on your thigh, his fingers absentmindedly drumming a rhythm that should have been soothing but only heightened your unease. Your gaze stayed fixed on the city lights streaking past the window, but your mind was elsewhere—back on the terrace, the way Austin’s gaze had lingered on yours, the weight of his words still pressing against your chest.

Jack glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “You’ve been quiet since we left,” he said, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

You forced a small smile. “Just tired,” you replied, your voice carefully neutral. “It’s been a long night.”

Jack nodded, his attention shifting back to the road. “It was a good night, though. You handled yourself brilliantly. Everyone loves you.”

“Thanks,” you said, the words feeling hollow in your mouth.

He didn’t press further, which you were grateful for, but as you pulled into the driveway, the tension in your chest only grew. You’d been holding onto too many feelings for too long, each one pulling you in a different direction, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep everything buried.

The living room was strewn with wedding magazines and loose papers, a small tablet perched on the coffee table displaying a sleek website for potential venues. Jack sat on the couch, his laptop balanced on his knee as he scrolled through an email chain with a wedding planner he’d found through a colleague. You sat cross-legged on the floor, an untouched cup of tea growing cold beside you.

It wasn’t exactly the wedding you’d imagined.

“I think the guest list is manageable now,” Jack said, his tone upbeat as he glanced at you over the screen of his laptop. “We’ve cut it down to about 120. That’s pretty small by Hollywood standards.”

You nodded, tracing patterns on the edge of the rug. “Yeah. Smaller,” you said, your voice carefully neutral.

He frowned slightly, sensing your hesitation. “I know it’s not what you originally wanted,” he said, his voice softening. “But I think it’s a good middle ground, don’t you? It’s not the huge spectacle everyone expects, but it’s still special.”

You managed a small smile, not wanting to dampen his enthusiasm. “It’s a compromise,” you said, echoing the words you’d told yourself over and over since the planning had started.

Jack set his laptop aside, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Hey,” he said gently, catching your gaze. “Talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

You hesitated, your chest tightening. “It’s not… bad,” you said carefully. “It’s just… all of this—the guest lists, the menus, the colour palettes—it still feels like we’re planning something for everyone else, not for us.”

Jack exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get that,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “But I want it to feel right, Y/N. For both of us. I’m trying to find that balance.”

“I know,” you said quickly, reaching for his hand. “And I appreciate it. I really do. I just… I never pictured something this formal. I always thought it would be small, intimate. Just us and the people closest to us.”

His fingers tightened around yours, his expression softening. “I want that too,” he said. “But I also want to celebrate this properly. I don’t want it to feel like we’re hiding.”

You nodded, the knot in your stomach loosening slightly. “We’ll figure it out,” you said, though the words felt more like a reassurance for him than for yourself.

Jack smiled faintly, leaning back against the couch. “So, what about a date?” he asked, his tone shifting to something lighter. “We should lock something in, right?”

You reached for your phone, pulling up your calendar. “Let’s see…” you began, scrolling through the next few months. “I’ve got the Greta Gerwig project starting in a few weeks, and then there’s a press tour…”

Jack’s face shifted, his smile faltering. “Right. And I’ve got…” He trailed off, his expression tightening.

You looked up at him, your stomach twisting. “What?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I got the offer for the lead in that film I told you about. The one shooting in New Zealand.”

Your heart sank. “When?”

“In four months,” he admitted, his voice heavy. “It’s a three-month shoot.”

The words settled between you like a weight, the implications hitting you both at once.

“That’s…” you started, your voice catching. “That’s a big deal, Jack. You should do it.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I mean, I already said yes. It’s the kind of role I can’t turn down. But the timing…”

“It’s fine,” you said, forcing a smile. “We’ll figure it out.”

His eyes softened, but there was a flicker of doubt there that you couldn’t ignore. “Ok. You’ve got the press tour. And the new project. How long does that one run?”

“Two months,” you said, your voice quieter now. “But then there’s the post-production work. ADR, reshoots… It’s a lot.”

Jack leaned back, his expression heavy. “So we’re both about to disappear for most of the year.”

The truth of it settled over you both, the reality of your lives pulling you in opposite directions. You sat in silence for a long moment, the plans and compromises scattered around you feeling suddenly insignificant.

You looked at him, your chest tightening at the weary look in his eyes.

“We’re both busy,” he said finally, his voice quiet but heavy. “I get that. But sometimes it feels like we’re barely in this anymore. Like we’re just… going through the motions.”

Your throat tightened, the truth of his words hitting you like a blow. “I know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel it too.”

He nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said. “But I don’t know how to fix this.”

Neither did you.

You’d just wrapped your latest project, a gritty drama that had demanded every ounce of your focus and energy. The long days on set had been a welcome distraction from the strained reality of your relationship with Jack. With him halfway across the world, the distance between you wasn’t just physical anymore. Calls had become shorter, text messages less frequent. When you did talk, it often felt like you were tiptoeing around something unspoken, both of you avoiding the cracks that seemed to widen with every passing day.

Throwing yourself into work had been your coping mechanism, and for a while, it had helped. But now, with the film behind you, there was no escape. The press tour for the improvisational project you’d filmed with Austin had arrived, and you’d thrown yourself into that instead, grateful for the busyness and the change of scenery.

It was during one of these interviews, seated side by side in a sleek hotel suite, that you felt the first real crack in your resolve. The journalist had asked a question about the improvisational nature of the film, and Austin’s response had been so earnest, so thoughtful, that you found yourself watching him with a mix of admiration and something deeper you didn’t want to name.

“It was all about trust,” he said, his voice steady but warm. “We had to rely on each other completely, and I think that shows in the final product.”

You nodded, your gaze lingering on him for a moment too long before turning back to the journalist. “It was definitely one of the most intense but rewarding experiences of my career,” you said, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

The interview moved on, the journalist’s questions shifting to lighter topics, but your mind lingered on Austin’s words. Trust. He’d said it so simply, but it carried so much weight. That trust had been the foundation of everything you’d built together on set, and you felt its echoes now, in the way he listened so attentively to the interviewer’s questions, the way he leaned toward you slightly as though his presence alone could steady you.

After the interview, as you stepped into the hallway, Austin fell into step beside you. “That went well,” he said, his tone casual but kind.

“Yeah,” you agreed, glancing up at him. “You’re good at this stuff.”

He smiled, his gaze warm. “So are you.”

It was such a small thing, but the way he said it made your chest tighten. There was no ulterior motive, no performance. Just sincerity. It was a quality you’d come to admire in him over the course of the shoot, but now, with everything so raw and strained in your personal life, it felt magnified.

As the tour continued, you found yourself drawn to him in ways you couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t just his looks, though that was part of it—the easy charm of his smile, the quiet intensity of his eyes, the way he carried himself with a confidence that never felt arrogant. But it was more than that. It was the way he treated everyone around him, from the journalists to the hotel staff to the fans who waited outside the press junkets for hours just for a moment with him.

He was kind. That was what struck you most. Kind in a way that felt rare, especially in an industry that so often rewarded the opposite. You watched the way he spoke to people, always present, always genuine, and you felt your chest tighten with something you were beginning to recognise but couldn’t admit.

There was a moment in the hotel lobby one evening, between events, when you saw him chatting with a fan. She was nervous, fumbling over her words, but he knelt slightly so they were at eye level, his tone gentle as he reassured her and took a photo. You watched from a distance, your heart aching in a way that felt both sweet and unbearable.

Later that night, as you sat in your hotel room scrolling through the day’s photos and interviews, you found yourself replaying small moments in your mind. The way Austin had touched your elbow to guide you out of a crowded room, the way his laugh had filled the car during a quiet drive between interviews, the way he’d looked at you during that panel discussion when you’d stumbled over a question, steadying you with just a glance.

You weren’t just attracted to him. You were falling for him.

The realisation hit you like a jolt, your chest tightening as you set your phone down and pressed your hands to your face. It was so much more than you’d let yourself acknowledge before. You didn’t just admire him, didn’t just appreciate his presence. You were in love with him.

And it wasn’t just the idea of him, either. It was the reality—the warmth of his kindness, the quiet strength of his support, the way he made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in so long.

You lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling as the weight of it settled over you. The feelings you’d tried so hard to push down were impossible to ignore now, no matter how much guilt clawed at you. Jack’s name flickered through your mind, and you squeezed your eyes shut against the wave of shame that followed.

But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, the truth was there, undeniable. You loved Austin. And with every passing day, it was becoming harder to pretend you didn’t.

The press tour had been a whirlwind escape, a way to throw yourself into work and momentarily forget about the cracks that had started forming in your relationship with Jack. But now that you were home, the weight of reality settled heavily over you. The house was familiar, but it didn’t feel like home anymore—it felt like a place where unresolved tensions lingered in every room.

Jack was leaving in a few days, flying halfway across the world for six months. You’d barely had time to reconnect before his suitcase was back in the corner of the bedroom, half-packed and looming like a reminder of everything you hadn’t talked about.

Dinner that night was quiet, the clink of cutlery on plates the only sound. You could feel the tension between you like a physical presence, heavy and suffocating. Jack was the first to break the silence.

“Have you thought any more about the wedding?” he asked, his voice careful, almost hesitant.

You sighed softly, setting your fork down. “I have,” you said, glancing up at him. “And I think we’ve done a good job meeting in the middle. It’s bigger than I wanted, smaller than you did… but it still doesn’t feel like me, Jack. I’m trying to get on board with it, but…”

“But you’re not,” he finished for you, his tone tinged with frustration. “Y/N, I get that this isn’t your dream wedding, but it’s not exactly mine either. We’ve both compromised. Isn’t that what marriage is supposed to be about?”

“It is,” you said quickly, your voice cracking slightly. “And I’m grateful for that. But it’s not just the wedding, Jack. It’s… everything.”

His brow furrowed, his fork paused mid-air. “What do you mean, ‘everything’?”

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. “I mean, the wedding has made me realise how different our visions for the future are. It’s not just about the size of the guest list or the colour palette. It’s about what happens after. You’re ready to settle down, to start a family, and I… I’m not.”

Jack’s fork clattered onto his plate, the sound sharp and jarring. “We’ve talked about this,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “You said you wanted that too—just not right away.”

“I do want it,” you said, your eyes welling with tears. “But I don’t know when, Jack. And every time we talk about the wedding, it feels like this countdown to a life I’m not ready for yet. You’re ready to step back, but I’m just getting started. There are still roles I want to take, things I want to do. I can’t give that up—not yet.”

He stared at you, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “I’m not asking you to give it up. I’m asking you to find a way for both of us to have what we want. Isn’t that the whole point of being together?”

You shook your head, tears spilling over now. “It feels like we’re on two completely different paths, Jack. You want to slow down, start a family, have this settled life. And I feel like I’m barely getting started. I don’t know how to make those paths line up.”

His shoulders slumped, and he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “So what are you saying? That this isn’t going to work?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I’m just… scared. Scared that we’ll keep trying to force this and end up resenting each other. Scared that one of us will always feel like we gave up too much.”

Jack’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, blinking rapidly. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice breaking. “But I don’t know how to keep us together when it feels like we’re falling apart.”

The admission hit you like a blow, and you reached for his hand, your fingers trembling. “I don’t want to lose you either,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know how to fix this. Every time we try to talk about it, it feels like we’re just going in circles.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability beneath his frustration. “I love you,” he said simply, the weight of the words almost too much to bear.

“I love you too,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “But sometimes… sometimes love isn’t enough.”

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of everything you couldn’t say. Jack’s hand tightened around yours for a moment before he pulled away, standing and pacing the length of the dining room.

“Maybe we’re trying too hard to hold onto something that isn’t working anymore,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm.

You nodded, your heart breaking even as you acknowledged the truth of his words. “Maybe we are.”

He turned back to you, his eyes glistening with tears. “I don’t want us to hate each other,” he said, his voice trembling. “I don’t want us to turn into something we’re not.”

You stood, closing the distance between you, and wrapped your arms around him. He held you tightly, his face buried in your hair as he whispered, “I wanted this to work so badly.”

“I know,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest. “I did too.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of quiet tears and whispered goodbyes. You sat together on the couch, your hands entwined, saying everything you needed to say even as your hearts broke. There was no anger, no blame, just the quiet understanding of two people who loved each other deeply but couldn’t make it work.

When Jack left a few days later, his suitcase packed and waiting by the door, he turned to you one last time. “I hope you find everything you’re looking for,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak. “You too,” you managed, the words barely audible.

As his car disappeared down the street, you stood in the doorway, tears streaming down your face. The house felt impossibly quiet when you stepped back inside, the echoes of your life together lingering in every corner.

But even through the pain, there was a small, fragile sense of relief. You’d made the right decision—painful as it was—and now, for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to hope that the path ahead might hold something new, something true.

The awards ceremony buzzed with the kind of electric energy only Hollywood could generate. The film had been nominated for multiple categories, including Best Picture, and the stakes felt impossibly high. You hadn’t attended an event like this in months—your first red carpet since the breakup—and the thought of facing the cameras, the questions, and the inevitable whispers made your stomach twist with nerves.

But tonight wasn’t about you. It was about the film, about the months of work that had pushed you to your emotional limits and left you forever changed. You’d spent the afternoon carefully preparing—your team perfecting every detail of your look until you finally felt like someone ready to step back into the spotlight. The gown you wore was sleek and understated, a shimmering black that caught the light just enough to feel glamorous without being ostentatious. It was a deliberate choice: elegant, confident, but nothing that screamed look at me.

The red carpet was as overwhelming as you remembered. Flashes exploded in bursts, reporters called out your name, and the cacophony of voices blurred into white noise. You smiled for the cameras, answering questions with poise, but the effort of it all left you breathless by the time you made it inside.

The venue was grand, its high ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers that cast a warm, golden glow over the sea of perfectly dressed attendees. You navigated the room with the same grace you’d worn on the red carpet, exchanging polite smiles and making small talk as you slowly made your way to your table. The cast and crew had been seated together, a mix of familiar faces and new additions filling the space with laughter and quiet anticipation.

Austin was already at his seat. He looked up as you approached, his face lighting up with an easy, warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, rising slightly from his chair. “You made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, managing a smile that didn’t quite mask your nerves.

As you slipped into your seat a few chairs away from him, the rest of the table began to fill with the familiar faces of the production team. Celeste arrived shortly after, her energy as magnetic as ever, her soft grey gown a striking complement to her usual unassuming brilliance.

The ceremony began, and as the awards were announced, the tension in the room began to build. When the film won its first award for Best Sound Design, the table erupted into cheers, Celeste clapping exuberantly before raising her glass in a small toast to the sound team.

Between awards, the conversation at the table was lively, punctuated with laughter and shared memories. Celeste turned to you and Austin at one point, her expression softening as she placed a hand lightly on your arm.

“I’m so proud of both of you,” she said earnestly. “This film… it wouldn’t be what it is without the trust and vulnerability you brought to it. You carried so much of its heart, and I hope you know how extraordinary that is.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat, her words hitting you harder than you expected. “Thank you,” you said quietly. “That means everything coming from you.”

Austin, seated across from you, nodded, his voice equally sincere. “I don’t think I’ve ever worked on something that felt this… real. You pushed us in ways I didn’t know were possible.”

Celeste smiled warmly, her gaze darting between the two of you. “That’s what makes it so special. It’s rare to capture something so raw, so alive. I’ll always be grateful to you both for taking that leap.”

The conversation lingered in your mind long after Celeste had turned to speak with someone else. You stole a glance at Austin, finding him already watching you. He gave you a small, reassuring nod, and you felt a flicker of the trust that had defined your work together.

As the evening progressed, the film continued its winning streak, culminating in the announcement of Best Picture. When the title was called, the entire table erupted into cheers, a whirlwind of applause and celebration. You found yourself pulled into a series of hugs, but when Austin wrapped his arms around you, the moment felt different—longer, steadier, as if grounding you amidst the chaos.

“We did it,” he murmured, his voice warm against your ear.

You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. “We really did.”

The applause and speeches blurred into a wave of euphoria, the weight of the achievement sinking in as you stood together on stage with the rest of the cast and crew. The moment felt surreal, a culmination of months of work and emotion condensed into a few fleeting minutes.

The after-party was held in an opulent ballroom, the perfect backdrop for the industry elite to unwind after the ceremony. You floated between groups, a glass of champagne in hand, the glow of the night still warming your chest. The congratulations from colleagues and acquaintances were plentiful, and you did your best to accept them graciously, though the noise of the room felt overwhelming at times.

You spotted Austin near the bar, laughing with a few of the cast members. He caught your eye briefly and gave you a small wave, but before you could make your way over, another familiar face approached.

“Y/N,” came a voice, rich with warmth and mischief. It was Sophie, one of your co-stars from a previous project. She looked stunning, as always, her emerald gown shimmering as she leaned in for a quick hug. “You’re glowing tonight.”

“Thank you,” you said with a small laugh. “It’s been… a lot.”

“I can imagine,” she said, her tone dropping slightly. “Especially after everything with Jack. I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but… are you okay? I mean, it must be hard seeing the headlines and still being so put together.”

Your breath hitched slightly, but you managed to maintain your composure. “I’m fine,” you said, the practiced answer coming easily. “It’s been a while now.”

Sophie nodded, her expression softening. “Well, for what it’s worth, you look incredible. And you’ve got so much going for you—this film, all these awards… you don’t need anyone to complete you.”

“Thanks, Sophie,” you said, your smile genuine but small. “I appreciate it.”

She gave your arm a reassuring squeeze before disappearing back into the crowd. You turned away, exhaling quietly as you moved toward a quieter corner of the room.

“Y/N,” Austin’s voice came from behind you, soft but steady. You turned to see him standing there, his expression tinged with concern. “Are you okay? I saw Sophie talking to you.”

You nodded quickly, though your throat felt tight. “Yeah, I’m fine. She just brought up Jack, and it… caught me off guard.”

Austin hesitated, his hands slipping into the pockets of his tuxedo trousers. “I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up,” he said carefully. “I didn’t want to overstep.”

You shook your head, managing a small smile. “It’s fine. Really. It’s just… a little strange sometimes, hearing other people talk about it like it’s still fresh.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze warm and steady. “If you ever want to talk about it… I’m here.”

The simplicity of his words, the quiet sincerity in his tone, made your chest tighten. “Thank you,” you said softly. “But I think I’m finally starting to move forward.”

His smile was faint but understanding, and the two of you stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the noise of the party fading into the background. It felt natural, easy—like slipping back into a rhythm you hadn’t realised you’d missed.

The energy of the party shifted as the hours wore on. The initial rush of excitement mellowed into a relaxed, almost intimate atmosphere. The room was filled with soft laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the low hum of conversations that had become more personal as the night stretched on.

You found yourself gravitating toward Austin more and more, drawn by the calm he seemed to exude in contrast to the buzz of the crowd. The two of you had settled into a quiet corner of the room, where the chatter softened to a gentle backdrop and the lighting felt warm and forgiving.

“This is nice,” you said, leaning back against the plush cushions of the seating area. Your shoes were long abandoned, and you’d curled your legs beneath you. The champagne flute in your hand was still half-full, but you weren’t in a rush to finish it. “Being able to just… be, without a camera in my face or a question about my personal life.”

Austin chuckled softly, his posture as relaxed as yours. “It’s rare, isn’t it? These moments where you don’t have to perform for anyone.”

“Rare and precious,” you agreed, your gaze drifting over the room before settling back on him. “I’ve missed this—the quiet moments.”

He nodded, his smile soft. “I get that. Sometimes it feels like the only time you can really breathe is when the spotlight moves to someone else.”

For a while, the conversation meandered through safe, familiar territory—funny stories from the press tour, the chaos of awards season, and lighthearted jokes about how Celeste had probably orchestrated her own victory dance when the film won Best Picture. But as the noise of the party faded further into the background, the space between you shifted.

The way he looked at you felt different—softer, warmer, yet somehow more intense. You found yourself leaning in slightly, as though drawn to him without even realising it. His hand rested on the arm of the couch, fingers brushing against the fabric, and you resisted the sudden, irrational urge to reach out and touch them.

“Austin,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his name on your lips made your chest tighten. “Can I tell you something?”

His gaze flicked to yours, the easy smile on his face fading into something more serious. “Of course.”

You hesitated for a moment, the words caught in your throat. But the look in his eyes—steady, open, and utterly patient—was enough to push you forward.

“Being around you tonight,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “it feels… easy. Like I can breathe again. And I didn’t realise how much I needed that until now.”

His brow furrowed slightly, but his expression was full of understanding. “I’m glad you feel that way,” he said softly. “You deserve to feel at ease.”

You smiled faintly, your fingers tightening slightly around the stem of your glass. “It’s not just tonight, though. It’s… you. It’s how you are, the way you make everything feel so… uncomplicated, even when it’s not. You’re just… so good, with everyone. And with me.”

The confession hung between you, the air growing heavier with each passing second. His lips parted slightly, his eyes searching yours, but he didn’t speak right away. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the vulnerability of the moment threatening to overwhelm you.

“I don’t know when it happened,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper now. “But somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing you as just a friend. And I’ve been trying so hard to push it down because it’s messy, and it’s not fair, and I’m scared of what it means. But I can’t keep pretending it’s not there.”

Austin exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as though some invisible weight had been lifted. “Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice full of something you couldn’t quite name. “I think I’ve always seen you as more than a friend. I just… didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the raw honesty in them hitting you like a wave. “I thought it was just me,” you admitted, a faint laugh escaping you. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that it’s nothing, but it’s not nothing. It’s never been nothing.”

His hand shifted slightly, the tips of his fingers brushing yours where they rested on the cushion between you. The touch was so light it could have been accidental, but the way his gaze lingered on yours told you it wasn’t.

“It’s not nothing,” he said softly, his voice steady. “But I don’t want to rush you, or complicate things more than they already are.”

“You’re not,” you said quickly, your heart pounding. “Austin, you’re not making things harder. If anything, you’re the only thing that’s been making sense lately.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavily in the space between you. His fingers brushed yours again, more deliberately this time, and your breath caught as the warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked suddenly, his voice low but steady.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Out of here? Like… now?”

He smiled faintly, his thumb brushing lightly against your knuckles. “Just for some air. No cameras, no crowd. Just us.”

Your pulse quickened at the suggestion, but you found yourself nodding before you’d even fully processed the question. “Yeah,” you said softly. “I’d like that.”

The courtyard was quiet, the soft glow of string lights above casting warm pools of light onto the cobblestones. A faint breeze rustled the leaves of the ivy climbing the walls, and the gentle trickle of the fountain filled the silence. You let out a slow breath, trying to ground yourself, but your heart was racing, every nerve in your body alive with the weight of what had just been said.

Austin stood close, his hands still in his pockets, like he was holding himself back. His gaze hadn’t left you since you’d stepped outside, steady and searching, his expression open in a way that made your chest ache.

“This feels…” He paused, his voice low, unsure. “It feels like we’re finally being honest.”

You nodded, your fingers gripping the edge of the wrought-iron bench beside you for balance. “I think we are,” you said softly. “And it’s terrifying.”

He let out a breathy laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Terrifying doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

You smiled faintly, the tension between you shifting, charged but no longer stifling. He took a step closer, his movements slow, deliberate, like he was giving you every chance to stop him. But you didn’t move. You couldn’t.

His hand lifted slightly, hesitating for a fraction of a second before brushing against yours. The faint touch sent a jolt through you, your breath hitching. Your gaze flicked to his mouth, then back to his eyes, and the unspoken question hanging in the air passed between you, heavy and certain.

You didn’t wait for him to close the gap. Pushing up onto your tiptoes, you slid your arms around his neck, your fingers threading into the soft waves at the nape of his neck. His breath caught, but he didn’t hesitate, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer as your lips met.

The kiss started slow, tentative, like the first notes of a song you’d been waiting to hear. His lips were soft, warm, moving against yours in a way that felt both careful and electric. You tightened your hold on him, your fingers brushing the base of his hairline, and he made a quiet sound in the back of his throat, almost like a sigh.

As the kiss deepened, you caught the faint taste of champagne on his lips, the sweetness mingling with the warmth of his breath. His tongue brushed against yours, tentative at first, before the kiss grew bolder, the restraint between you giving way to something more urgent. A soft whimper escaped you, and his hands tightened at your waist, grounding you, pulling you closer until there was barely any space between you.

Your body melted against his, your heart pounding as the heat of the kiss spread through you. The world around you—the fountain, the courtyard, the muffled sounds of the party inside—faded entirely. All that remained was the feel of him, the way his tongue explored yours, the gentle scrape of his teeth on your bottom lip as he broke the kiss just enough to catch his breath before diving back in.

His hands slid from your waist to your back, his fingertips pressing into the fabric of your dress like he couldn’t bear to let you go. You felt his hair between your fingers, soft and slightly mussed, and the quiet intimacy of the moment made your chest tighten.

When you finally broke apart, your forehead rested against his, both of you breathless, your lips tingling. His hands stayed on your back, holding you close as his thumb traced small, soothing circles just below your shoulder blade.

“You taste like champagne,” he murmured, his voice rough, his breath ghosting over your lips.

“So do you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers still tangled in his hair. “And strawberries.”

His lips curved into a faint smile, and he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he said quietly, his voice filled with quiet reverence. “For so long.”

Your chest tightened, a swell of emotions rushing through you—relief, longing, and something deeper you weren’t ready to name. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I just didn’t know how much until now.”

His hands shifted to cup your face, his thumbs brushing lightly across your cheekbones. “We’ll figure this out,” he said, his tone steady despite the faint shake in his hands. “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out.”

You nodded, your lips brushing his in a soft, almost tentative kiss. It wasn’t urgent this time, but lingering, filled with quiet promises neither of you needed to say aloud. When you pulled back, you felt steadier, lighter, like the weight you’d been carrying for months had finally started to lift.

In the soft glow of the courtyard, his gaze held yours, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe. Whatever happened next, you weren’t alone in it. Not anymore.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #fan fiction #fanfic #imagine #fiction

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aramynx · 18 hours ago

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SECRETS SOFTLY SPOKEN

TOUYA TODOROKI X READER

summary: you’re out on the balcony with touya as he lights up a cigarette, standing in a tense silence until one of you decides to break it.

a/n: soft touya is sending me through a loop !!

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

Cool wind swept your hair from your face, pushing it behind you as your elbows rested on the cold metal railing of the balcony. The nights were beginning to get colder, more dreary and grey and bleak. The golden glow of the sun had already faded, leaving you with nothing but moonlight and the nonchalant presence of the man leaning on the railing beside you. A thick smoke surrounded you for a moment before it was swept away in the wind. Looking towards the source, you meet a pair of iridescent blue eyes, gleaming in the dim light of the moon.

“What?” He asked, tilting his head slightly as you stared, “‘f you’re expecting me to offer you one then don’t get your hopes up.”

“No, it stinks. Would it kill you to not blow it in my face for once, Touya?” You said, wafting the remaining smoke off into the night as it began to dissipate.

Touya shrugged, taking another drag from the cigarette between his fingers. This time, holding the smoke in as he spoke to you.

“What are you gonna do if I do it again?” He asked, turning towards you to purposefully blow a little of the smoke into your face before releasing the rest of it into the sky.

You sighed as he chuckled slightly, looking back out over the city. For a while, you remained in silence, taking in the silhouettes of buildings and skyscrapers, small boxes illuminated by apartment lights.

“You ever wonder what would’ve happened if your dad wasn’t such a dick to you?” You asked.

“No.”

“Maybe you’d have less attitude problems.”

“Shut up.” He sighed, a small smirk forming on his lips to hide the sadness he was beginning to feel. As quickly as it appeared, the smirk was gone, replaced with an expressionless gaze over the city, “What do you know anyway?”

“Enough to be able to tell that you do care what he thinks of you.” You say, smiling slightly at him as he rolls his eyes, staring off into the distance.

“Fuck.” He half chuckles, barely coping with the reality of the miserable, torturous life given to him, “Maybe it does matter to me, so what?”

“I dunno, maybe I just think it’d be a good idea for you to talk about it.” You meekly looked towards him, only for your eyes to meet his looking back at you.

“Oh yeah? To who?”

You rolled your eyes as he smirked at you, turning away from him, "Forget about it, then." You scoffed.

For a few moments you and Touya stood beside each other in silence, watching over the night that brought the city to an almost perfect stillness. Living the lives of criminals meant that nothing you ever did would be 'normal', whether you gave up on this lifestyle or not. Even so, you'd never imagined you'd end up here.

"You sure you want to work with the league?" Touya asked, stubbing out the butt of his cigarette on the cold steel railing. "You'll never be able to have any semblance of a normal life after this. You won't have what everyone else gets to have..."

You looked up at his as his spoke, yet his eyes stayed focussed on something in the distance, where your own eyes soon wandered. The window of an apartment opposite the balcony- a young couple standing in their living room sharing a warm embrace with bright, hopeful smiles.

"Are you willing to give that up?" He asks. The question is vague, but you suspect he's referring to the happy sight in front of you.

"I don't know." You muttered, "I don't know what I want any more."

"Yeah. Me neither." Touya says softly, shuffling ever so slightly closer to you, "I don't even know what I'm missing out on. Never been in a real relationship before anyway."

"You're kidding, right?" You asked, looking over to him.

"Nope. People aren't interested in me. Even if I was a good person, I'm pretty gross-looking." Touya sighed, looking down at his scarred forearms and the accompanying staples embedded in his hands.

"I'm sure there's someone out there who finds you attractive." You reassured, doing your utmost to conceal your own opinions of his appearance. Sure, he's covered in severe burn scars, and his flesh is being held together by staples, but still, you find him to be incredibly attractive, “You’ve got some things going for you anyway.”

“Like what?” He smirked, “Do tell.”

“I don’t know, you’ve got a pretty good physique under that dumbass jacket, the piercings you have really add to your style, your eyes are otherwordly.” You admitted, “I bet you’d look really nice if you got all dressed up.”

“Oh yeah?” Touya’s eyes drifted over to you, where you were still looking over the city. “You’re pretty good-looking too.”

Maybe, he wondered. Maybe you could find some kind of normality in this place.

#bnha #mha x reader #my hero academia #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #mha dabi #dabi x reader

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monster-squid-ink · 2 days ago

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THIS!! Okay, ramble time for me too, man.

Like op said, it isn't all that serious, but I'm still pretty salty as well. Spoilers ahead here as well!

I feel like my biggest problem with Chapter 4 is that they had 3 different big characters that were put in the spotlight, which I didn't even know 2 of them existed because they made trailers for each one?? [continue on this later], but one in particular did NOT get nearly enough use, and one got too much of it in my opinion.

Those being Yarnaby and Doey respectively. Yarnaby was the first, and only, of the 3 focus characters I saw, so naturally I was very hyped to see what they would do with him! Only to get VERY disappointed when he just. Barely showed up, and might have died in the most goofy, unceremonious way they could've done.

And then we have Doey, who took up the majority of the spotlight when I really feel like he didn't need to. Don't get me wrong, he's got an interesting concept and story! But it just felt like they were cramming his lore down your throat while I was watching a playthrough. Maybe that's just me, though. But in the end, I really didn't feel any attachment to him. :[

Back to the trailer thing- I don't know why they decided to do seperate trailers for each character, but that decision is the reason I didn't even know The Doctor and Doey existed until I watched a playthrough. I almost never look at Mob Entertainment's channel, so I had no clue they'd even posted new trailers. So when I got all hyped up and watched an [early access, mind you] playthrough of the chapter, it was very jarring to see 2 completely unfamiliar characters show up, taking the spotlight.

I partially take fault for that. Me not looking at the channel is my own doing. But I don't understand why they changed their trailer formula so drastically?? Like..could they not have made just one big trailer including all of the characters? The Doey trailer does that. So what's the point of the other 2? Don't get me wrong, the other 2 trailers look sick. But I don't feel like they had to be trailers. I feel like those could've been character lore videos. They've made those before.

And lastly, honorable mention to the Nightmare Critters and Pianosaurus who got sidelined even harder than poor Yarnaby. So much potential in those little guys and the dino, but they barely even used them. And one of them died within 5 seconds of actually being shown, which is just like..what's even the point of making a whole new character if they're going to be killed immediately and likely never show up again? At that point, just use one of the various other toys you have like you did with that one scene in Home Sweet Home where CatNap snatches up a toy caught in the smoke.

All around, I felt like the chapter needed more time in the oven. The character focus wasn't very well distributed in my opinion, especially with poor Yarnaby who was SUCH AN INTERESTING CHARACTER, but just got completely sidelined by Doey. I have a love-hate relationship with The Doctor for reasons unrelated to the spotlight issues [cough cough- love the voice and design, hate the character as a person].

Kissy is best girl, if she dies I will actually sob. Prototype sucks, go die. Everyone needs therapy and food. Buy gold. Byeeee!

I have- a lot to say about Chapter Four, so-

I sound a bit salty, because I am, but I promise it’s all not that serious and it is just a game! Let’s all remember that and be respectful

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD BIG RANT BELOW ⚠️

❌ There’s about to be a lot of negative so if you don’t want to see it skip to the positives! Totally fair! It came out yesterday and I was hyped and it didn’t meet my personal hype, so I am a bit salty ngl! So totally fair to skip ❌

I can’t really talk much about Yarnaby because his death was SUPER glitched? So I was kind of just like “…okay- I mean yikes for him but-“ I can’t even tell if it was something I did that made him burn? I’m someone who hates chase sequences (not because they’re bad I just get too stressed lmao) but his felt kiiiind of underwhelming? But again one of the places I assume he was supposed to be chasing was- glitched as all hell he didn’t chase me at all, but anyways, my son that I can’t draw, I’m so sorry

Pianosaurus- honestly? I didn’t give him the time of day during promos and such, and honestly now I’m ashamed I didn’t, I’m someone that needs time to just- stare at a character’s design for more than four seconds, just to picture their potential, and staring at his design after the fact, yeah, a MUSICAL chase scene? Are you KIDDING me?? I would’ve fucked with that, SO. HARD. I think Mob was trying to go for the funny route, that or just to show how unstable/strong Doey is, but- I don’t know maybe he could’ve come in and saved us.. after an actual chase scene? My man had ten seconds of life including the cutout, Mob hates dinosaurs fr

The Doctor- I don’t know man I wasn’t too hyped about him like- fight wise? But I knew he’d come with lore and it’d be a different kind of villain so I was still hyped in a sense, and- since I can’t say much about Yarnaby’s death- then the Nightmare Critters stuff? Like it was interesting he was playing with us, but he just dies so easily, like I guess it makes sense, he’s an immovable(?) computer, but for someone everyone expected to be the main villain, and who was talking so much shit to us the whole game, he was also kind of underwhelming, disappointing really the mindless drone computers was also all glitchy so I couldn’t tell you much there

Saved this for last (critique wise) because if you follow me/like my stuff you probably know I love the Nightmare Critters, they got me into actually drawing Poppy Playtime stuff instead of just fixating on the Smiling Critters but not drawing them, helped that I had finally gave in and watched chapter three (out of order.. I finally watched chapters one and two like a week ago, fake fan I know) in September, and then they came out in October

Maybe it’s dumb, but these stupid emo critters mean a lot to me for personal reasons, a lot more than they probably should, so to say I was excited was an understatement, and- the trailer didn’t give me high hopes, but I stayed hopeful, thinking maybe that tease of a Bigger Baba would lead to something? Like- “maybe she’s actually an ally! They did say multiple allies, she’s the black sheep of the Nightmare Critters! It makes sense! They have their own jingle made too, maybe there’s a commercial!” And then to not even get cutouts of them felt kind of like a stab in the heart

They started their big promotion of the chapter with a week long introduction and- nothing, and yes you can argue the same thing happened to the Smiling Critters in chapter three though comparatively they got way more than the Nightmare Critters, which they gave us more of in chapter four, but that’s just the thing, why make the Nightmare Critters in the first place then? It’s not like it’d tarnish the Smiling Critters’ brand, they were introduced AS antagonistic plushies trying to eat us, and if the idea was that they were such a failed attempt (in universe) at trying to attain the same popularity as the Smiling Critters.. why not say? Give us a note? A line? An acknowledgment besides them visibly attacking us to their existence? Even as a villain despite the symbolism Baba could’ve been a parallel to Catnap, something, but nope, she was just the main grunt character, like actually, that’s what her and the Nightmare Critters were, Yarnaby was a pet, they were like The Doctor sent out bugs to come at us, in the cage room they were just slightly bigger bugs, like what is that about by the way? Are they not Bigger Bodies? Are they the “main” Critters? Like tell us things about them please, even their little jingle is an Easter Egg there’s NO acknowledgment of them, at all, and to top it all off, no cutouts, when characters like Daisy have cutouts despite never being a character we face, why have us see the Smiling Critters cutouts again with the same dialogue- and all the other new characters get cutouts, but not the Nightmare Critters?? Why????? I dunno, it’s not that serious but it’s incredibly disappointing for me personally, as we had months of hype for- literally nothing

Edit: I have more to say actually, why the heck was Baba even advertised as different from the rest of the Nightmare Critters? In everything we get of them she’s in the middle, or the main focus, the spotlight, for.. what? She’s the only one attacking us? Like I just don’t get it, I still believe a better plot were to have her be a parallel to Catnap, because they’re similar situations in a way, Baba’s Prototype was just Dr. Sawyer instead, just.. minus having a hinted personality, but maybe this time, we could’ve saved her when we couldn’t Catnap or something? So like it’s not too similar, but I dunno, literally anything would’ve been better than what we got

✅ But! It wasn’t all bad, this chapter did have a bit of good in it that I enjoyed, case in point- ✅

Doey, GOD I love his colours, I jokingly hated him because I fucking hate drawing circles, and this man is nothing but circles, but my actual opinions pre release I just couldn’t wait to see him animated, I love characters that don’t have to deal with anatomy, I hate anatomy, stretch away king, but I didn’t have much of an opinion otherwise, then we find out he’s made up of three people? The lore is hot, his jingle is a bop also, the fact he killed his (well one of the people’s) parents, that was illegal, stop that, and I’m glad that he didn’t just agree with Poppy’s plan, but also I wish they talked about the long term? Say they defeat The Prototype, it’s not like they can go back into society, I’m surprised no one had that existential thought, his death though- a bit convoluted but yeah, also to my understanding The Prototype set off the bombs right? But we still planned to do it, just maybe we could’ve moved the Safe Haven guys out beforehand I dunno, but that was such a sad death, he said SORRY TO US. US???? BRO WE SUUUUUCK, RIP the king of this chapter

Safe Haven, omfg that was just such a cool concept to me, I guess you could say that it’s not really original but I don’t really care about all that, kind of wish there was more of a variety of toys in it though (yeah I know there were a couple Boogie Bots and a Mini Huggy but it was still clearly Smiling Critters focused y’know? I swear I don’t hate the SC guys I’m just trying not to be biased towards them) I’m glad they had a memorial room, and it’s SO lucky of them to have a doctor I don’t know how if they were all children but that doctor is the goat, in the thumbnail of the trailer they make a point to show that Doey could put things in himself, and we also know from tapes that he can make it where others can’t, surely there’s big enough cracks to where he could go up in the surface and lowkey rob a store to get them food right? Pretty please? Give these people food T^T ALSO I’m glad they actually talked, I didn’t expect that to be honest, yay :3

I was not expecting to see BBI Hoppy but I’m so glad we did, my fav Smiling Critter hiiiiii :3, I love her voice, and it makes me wonder if she was the last Critter besides Dogday and Catnap, because maybe they would’ve mentioned the others if they were alive? I dunno, but I’m just glad to see her

Bouncing off of those two points ^, we got more Smiling Critters shit!! Not much in the grand scheme of things, but we got a whole BBI Hoppy tape, a blurry image of I thiiiiink BBI Bubba on one of the TV screens, and an entire room full of the little Smiling Critters, that counts probably, we got more that makes me happy :3

Out of order but seeing that Kissy in the train car- omfg I think that was who Riley from the notes was- RIP Queen, Jesus-

By the way I WILL be using the fact that Touille’s tail is lowkey kind of like Catnap’s that shit is so long, we sure he’s not an opossum lol?

The jingles made by Black Gryphon slaaaapped bro, make them longer puhleaseeeee 🙏

Kissy Missy, send tweet, she’s alive my angel she’s so TRAUMATIZED go AWAY PROTOTYPE

Poppy joining the realistic panic attack club- I don’t blame her for running, and I don’t think any of us should, we the player suck LMAO we deserve this, it was sad for Kissy though the queen

Also people saying fuck Ollie- why? Ollie was real, it’s The Prototype that did all that, not him, leave him alone he’s a bean

I kind of expected Huggy Wuggy was alive, these fucking wuggies are made of titanium I guess, what if the two reunite? They should give each other a hug with their long velcro paw pads, that’s what should happen Kissy and Huggy need to hug as probably the only BBI’s left (presumably, if Boxy is alive we cheer)

As disappointed in the chapter as I am, as it was my first time seeing it release live, it wasn’t all bad, maybe I could better judge some parts when they fix the glitching

I am working on some more drawings! Sorry I’ve slowed, I’m still not used to drawing so much lowkey, at least not like fully colouring and even doing backgrounds, if you couldn’t tell I only ever really do sketches lol, but yeah sorry things slowed I think I hurt my hand somehow, but sorry for the rant! I can get really ramble-y I’ve just never had a place to do so, despite my opinions I won’t be stoping posting art! So fret not, anyways, byeeeeeee!

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 4 #poppy playtime spoilers #yarnaby #pianosaurus #harley sawyer #nightmare critters #doey the doughman #rant post

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willestears · 1 year ago

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"too in love to think straight,all alone or so it seemed, but there was strangers watching, and whispers turned to talking, and talking turned to screams"

Wonderland - taylor swift

#this song fits wilmon SO PERFECTLY it's actually insane!#so i couldn't wait to share this edit #i swear every lyrics it's PERFECT #the feeling of everyone watching your relationship and knowing that at the end of the day the only thing that matters #is the world you two built together 💜#young royals #wilmon #young royals season 2 #edvin ryding #omar rudberg #prince wilhelm #simon eriksson #simon x wilhelm #wilhelm x simon #young royals season 3 #taylor swift #1989 taylor's version

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pass3ra · 8 months ago

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cressida's storyline was genuinely shameful tbhhh it's like they started rewriting it in the first half of the season then completely forgot about the changes they'd made to make it fit the book plot and it just ends up making everyone else look bad😐 every character in the second half got a "penelope did nothing wrong" lobotomy so we ended up with eloise completely ignoring cressida being sold off to an horrible man (when she made every effort to support her in the first half of the season) and for some reason resenting her for pretending to be lady whistledown? Then they somehow frame her ignoring colin's offensively bad pleas as it being her turning away from redemption when all she's trying to do is escape being trapped in the country with her likely abusive aunt... and it ends with her meeting her horrible fate and it still being framed as tragic only to immediately juxtapose it with the bridgerton family winning the idgaf war while gleefully seeing off francesca and her future dead husband. The bridgertons were the villains of the season frfr

#bridgerton #almost as bad as marina's plot in season one. every horrible decision in this show revolves around penelope meeting no consequences ever #this is not an anti post or anything idc about the fandom ill forget about this show tomorrow but i need to get this off my chest #they had to give penelope a fairy tale ending WHICH IS FINE but they somehow did it by surgically removing everyone's personality #INCLUDING HERS #benedict's bi storyline was bad also im sorry. paul literally has like 4 lines of dialogue and he was really cool #i love tilley but she should have been cut😭 if they wanted to establish he was bi (given we know theyre not genderbending sophie)#they should have made the whole subplot about him being attracted to a man instead of a 5 minute footnote in the last episode #i liked francesca and her husband whose name idr but it felt like they were framing it as him not being her 'great love'#considering what happens to him i fjnd it childish and meanspirited soul mates aren't real and he deserves a lttl respect considering.. lmao #what else. the dialogues were horrible. especially the ones between penelope and colin in the second part im sorry #they need to fire the make up and hair department. every reference to queen charlotte felt like a wahh pls watch my show ad #i miss anthony they should change the books to make him the villain of every season bb please come back to ruin your sibilings relationships #portia and philippa were peak as always. violet deserves her own season. we need to put eloise out of her misery pls leave her in scotland #rant overrr #publishing it on my sideblog actually i feel like im gonna lose followers just for having watched this show lmaoo

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hadesknockedupintheunderworld · 7 days ago

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Hey, I don't normally make my own posts about this, but.

Do not argue with an anti on their own terms.

Don't get me wrong, I get it. You see the hypocrisy. You see the way they take aim at your favorite ships or characters or tropes while enjoying something similar. And you think "if I can point out to them just how hypocritical and idiotic they look right now, everyone will see our argument, they'll see that the anti is wrong and a hypocrite, and then maybe more people will stop harassing the people who like my thing. Maybe the anti will see the light and stop being a hypocrite."

But it will not work. It will not work.

There is an extremely high chance one of two things will occur:

They will double down on their argument, and ignore what you've said. (Ex. They might say "This relationship has an age gap. That's p3dophi1ia. That's dangerous." And you might say "well you ship something with the same age gap. Is it not p3dophi1ia and dangerous when you do it?" And they will just double down and say "This ship is dangerous. The shippers are grasping at straws to make their p3d0 ship normal.")

They will agree with you, but in the worst way possible. (Ex. Someone says "Ew your ship are basically siblings because they're childhood friends and grew up together. 1nc3st apologist." And you might respond "And yet we allow our most popular ship in this fandom to be popular? They grew up together as childhood friends and were inseparable. Why is that not inc3st?" because you think they'll gain a sense of perspective here. But then that person responds "People who ship that popular ship are freaks too then." Maybe they believed that before the convo or maybe they didn't, but the point now is that (while not your intention or fault by any means) some people have gone on to harass shippers of a ship that aren't doing anything wrong. What you think will bring clarity ends up raising tensions between shippers instead)

Do not meet them where they're at on their preconceived notions. You will not make them believe that they are wrong or hypocrites. Do not concede to their heavy assertions of abuse, p3dophi1ia, 1nc3st, etc levied against the thing you like for the sake of arguing that they are a hypocrite, or with intent to make them feel dumb for inadvertently labeling 80% of a fandom with said labels. They will not "see the light". The best thing you can do, if you have to say anything, is double down with "I'm not hurting anyone and it's fiction. I can do whatever I want" or "I don't give a shit what harmless things people like as long as it's tagged and I can filter out what I dislike" (especially if this is your stance). Then block and move on.

Antis, like trolls, thrive on engagement. They want you to argue so they can continue to point at you or lie about you or make you look bad.

It is in your best interest to pick your battles, and to try to sus out the difference between a friendly argument or standing up for yourself versus feeding the trolls. You won't make the right choice every time, all of us are human after all, but I promise you that ignoring and blocking bad faith actors, deleting their hate anons, etc, is not the coward's way out. Sometimes you don't need to fight. Sometimes keeping yourself from platforming bad faith actors and giving them nothing to go on will do the job (because there are more antis that are just small blogs with little power to do anything than you think, the kinds of people whose inflammatory posts will die if no one touches them).

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#fandom wank #I'm not perfect either. I also fall into those same reasoning traps from time to time #that's why this is meant to be a psa or friendly reminder #I know how easy it is to get frustrated #I know how easy it is to get stuck thinking about how people are being stupid or hypocritical and feeling like there must be some way you #can get through to them #I know how tempting it is to compare other relationships or other characters or other medias people like to your own as a defense in hopes #that it will make things better for everyone (and it's tempting too to believe that people who ship the popular thing or like the popular #character have no problems and never deal with antis)#But you can't fight fire with fire or your reasoning to make people who want conflict stop pushing for conflict #These days (frustrated as I am watching entire communities of people who have committed no crimes get bullied off platforms for thoughtcrim #or for not conforming to the tastes of a pearl clutchy majority who has confused fictional tastes with real crimes and activism #) I have come to the conclusion that the best way to improve things is to just...become someone who unabashedly enjoys things. For me‚ I #think that if a community grows enough publicly‚ people won't be able to do much about it than complain in the end.#It may be scary to attach your main blog or your name to your interests your peers may bully/harass you for. But even if it means making ne #accounts/blogs/emails/etc‚ it's okay to do whatever you need to enjoy something and find your community.#You're not a coward or bad for being afraid or a lurker. You have reasonable things to fear. But if you've been craving fostering a renewed #community over a ship or character‚ then this post is your sign to take that step and become an avid poster or to publicly engage with the #few people who are posting it. Community starts with us‚ the people. And I think it's better if we decided to like the harmless things we #like publicly and enjoy the life we have than to just wait and hope things will be better and less hostile one day #Things are bleak‚ but they are not hopeless. You are not alone. You don't have to make large steps or be a major player of even be a big #contributing fandom member. You don't have to be anything. But the idea that you have to be quiet and keep silent about your fandom #interests because the antis won is just simply not true. They just want you to feel that way‚ because then they can keep their mental high #of having bullied people into obscurity #Anyways sorry about this. I'll try to go back to regular fandom posting #i just be ramblin

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donovankinard · 1 month ago

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#and another thing. not to sound like a complete fuckin pick me but i'm generally not a huge fan of the way i look #and when i hung out with her my skin was peeling. bad. from a sunburn #and i was really not feeling like i was looking good at *all* and i said some really offhanded comment and she literally turned to face me #and was like 'you're not ugly. your skin is peeling. your body is healing stop being an asshole to it' and i Did Not Know How To Cope #and you know how you alwyas have that one friend who you really just trust? you just get it all out with? like i have my best friend who i-#-am undeniably closer with but whenever me and my crush hang out alone we always end up in really deep conversation #and when i start talking about the shows i like she listens. like she actually listens and she asks questions and she engages with what i'm #-saying #and she specifically asked what my favourite 1d songs were so that she could listen to them. and she's going to watch 911 as soon as shes-#-finished what shes watching now #and its like. i convinced one (1) friend to watch 911 and she only really did it because of 4x13 edit she saw on tiktok #this is someone who genuinely wants to engage with the things that i like. just because i like them.#and another thing i really didnt know when i would be over my last relationship because it was my first relationship and it was obvi a big-#-deal and this person was the only person who never made me feel like i jsut needed to get over it. two months after the breakup she was-#-still there for me still a listening ear even when everyone else assumed i was completely over it. and i mean now i'm over it ive moved on #-with my life but the fact that she was there for me when i really needed it counts for. so fucking much #halp. halp i'm in too deep #also. will i ever get up the nerve to ask her out? probably not. i have sincere doubts #although i hope i do it. one day i hope i do it because i really do like her.#txt !!

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himalayaan-flowers · 3 months ago

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#if i weren't an anti natalist at this point i wish my brother and his wife would have children #then i'd feel less bad about ending everything once my parents are no longer here #bc he'd have a new family #ughhhhhhhhhhh i've been here 28 years and i can't stand it i don't want another 50 years of this #it's so ridiculous there are people fighting for their lives and i just want to be dead #like i really truly want that #i don't want to get old and even worse looking #i don't want to “settle” into a miserable relationship #i don't want to spend another 50 years hating everything about myself and being jealous of others and working a boring job #trying to force myself to remember to eat and doing chores and being in physical pain and being told to be grateful things aren't worse #worrying about everyone else #feeling guilty for absolutely everything #just watching as everyone else lives their lives #there is nothing whatsoever that could possibly change my mind i'd always choose “no life” over this life #but i'm so TRAPPED #i know i'm a broken record but literally what else can i do but repeat myself #it's horrible having no way out bc you can't stand to cause your family pain #and then i think #am i actually THAT bad #because if i were totally heartless i wouldn't care right????#i would just do it without worrying about them #which makes me think i can't be completely devoid of compassion #so then why?????#it feels like i HAVE to be a bad person otherwise why would i be in this situation #even people in warzones have a will to live #i don't starve or live in a warzone #but people living in famine or through war STILL have the will to live???#i have none #i don't get it

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sceletaflores · 3 months ago

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I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent.

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts.

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning.

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more.

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you.

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved.

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure.

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure.

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist.

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain.

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer.

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours.

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow.

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest.

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt.

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

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deathbxnny · 3 months ago

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Arcane characters when someone flirts with you. | Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Sevika x Gn!Reader

I am the brain rot. The brain rot is me.✨️

Content: pre season 2 Viktor/Jayce!, Jealousy, pitfighter Vi, established romantic relationships, angst, threats of violence/death threats, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

He always struggled with self-esteem issues, mainly due to his sickness and disability that made it difficult for him to do much. A part of him forever will believe that you could easily do better than him, yet that doesn't stop him from getting terribly jealous anytime someone gets too friendly with you. Especially when they can see him standing next to you clearly being your partner as well.

But despite his insecurities, he doesn't allow anyone to harass you either on his watch. He lets you defend yourself for the most part until he has enough and lets his more sassy side handle the flirtatious person for you. He may not be able to do anything in a physical way, something he very much would rather avoid. But his tongue is sharp, and it takes little to make them quickly scurry away with a nervous apology for the disturbance.

He'll never admit to being jealous, however, and denies any teasing accusations you send his way. But he'll secretly ask for reassurance as he starts feeling embarrassed over his insecurities rather quickly after. A couple of hugs and kisses from your side will fix that right up, though.

》JAYCE

He has a reputation to keep up. And so, technically, he should always handle things professionally no matter what. People are watching him after all, and his public image can not be tarnished under any circumstance... or so he says. Things change in his mind when they are about you. In general, people know who you are and who you belong to since he rarely shuts up about it.

But every now and then, someone who is somehow unfamiliar with this concept will come up to you and attempt to woo you right in front of his very eyes. Now, Jayce tries to let you handle yourself, but doesn't hesitate to step in either if the person doesn't get the hint. His rather intimidating frame and position as a councilor help him out Immensely with this. He chases them away with a tight smile and a kiss to your head, as he casually asks how he can oh so graciously help them.

Once they leave, he'll pretend not to hear you, of you teasingly asking him if he was jealous. Him? Jealous? Hah! Impossible... okay, maybe a little. But don't tell anyone that.

》VI

As a pitfighter, Vi doesn't hesitate to get violent with anyone who comes close to the only good thing she has left in her life, which happens to be you. She's extremely protective and makes sure everyone gets the hint regarding who you belong to. But alas, there are always the couple strays that refuse to comprehend that fact and therefore attempt to "steal" you away from her. Something that never ends well for anyone.

Her temper is shorter than it used to be, and that becomes quite clear when she's quick to loom over the person that was pestering you. She knows that you can handle yourself just fine, too. But that doesn't stop her from grabbing their shoulder and asking them if she can help them out instead. Or maybe they want to talk it out in the pit? All the same to her, but the message is clear. She'll win if it comes to you every time, and that's enough to make the person scurry away in terror.

You'll definitely have to calm her down and reassure that you had everything handled. She's just looking out for you, though, and doesn't want you to get hurt, too, like everyone else in her life. The last thing she wants is to mess up again, so her overprotective tendencies will probably never lessen. Not that you kind anyways.

》CAITLYN

Your role as her partner is crystal clear to absolutely everyone in Piltover, especially after she takes over the troops as their new ruler. She's much more cutthroat and cold than she used to be before her mothers death, which made her extremely overprotective of you and your safety. She may even be suffocating at times with her security measures, but she finds it absolutely necessary. This also means, however, that those who try becoming a bit too friendly with you are always at risk of facing her wrath.

She doesn't hold back with her dismay and is quick to stand before you with a dark, stern glare directed at whoever was flirting with you beforehand. Caitlyn doesn't care if you can take care of yourself or not either. She'll take full advantage of her new position and power too, not hesitating to give the person that was pestering you a professionally worded threat that leaves them as pale as a ghost.

Admittedly, it's hard to tell if she's jealous or just worried in her own way. Before her mother's death, it may very well just be her being a bit jealous... but with her current position, she may also just be afraid to lose you too deep down. And she couldn't handle that.

》JINX

After Silco's death, Jinx's temper is milder than before due to her deteriorating mental health (if there was anything left of it to begin with). She's a lot calmer when handling situations and seeming more calculated than before, but that certainly doesn't quell the extreme abandonment issues in her at any rate. If anything, they've become much worse than before. This means that she'll cling to you and snap at anyone who nears you. No one is allowed to steal your attention away from her. No one can take you away from her. She just won't allow it when you're all she has left.

And so, she won't hesitate to use her gun on anyone who is pestering you. A death threat or two usually gets the point across anyway. Jinx will also let you handle yourself first, however though, knowing you can easily do that. But if things do get out of hand, she will step right to scare them away at best. She'd never kill anyone infront of you after all. She doesn't want to scare you away.

You'll have to reassure her of your loyalty a lot afterward, however, as her insecurities and issues can make her spiral fairly easily. Giving her a lot of attention and love makes everything go away, though, luckily.

》SEVIKA

She's very secure in your relationship and trusts you perfectly fine, which is why she rarely ever gets jealous. Why should she, anyway, when you'll always come back to her at the end of the day? Besides, people in the lanes know who you are and who you belong to, and most importantly, what will happen to their faces once she bashes them in if they ever harass you too much.

With that said, though, she typically lets you do your own thing and chase the person away yourself first before bothering to step in. If things get out of hand, then she'll suddenly be right behind you and tower over whoever it is that's not getting the hint. Blowing smoke right into their faces, she'll ask them if they have a problem, and if yes, then they should take it up with her outside. Although everyone knows she's the only one back afterwards. This usually does the trick.

Don't expect her to ever say that she is jealous, though, and hopes you know better, too. She knows you're loyal, as she certainly is for life and therefore doesn't worry about a thing regarding the strength of your relationship.

No one is better than her anyway.

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cryptictongues · 5 months ago

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The Thrill of the Chase

pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Mutant!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 7.1K summary: Logan ate part of your sandwich, so you stole his cigars. Things turn out differently from what you were expecting.

warnings: fluff and smut, teasing, slight predator/prey trope, banter, making out, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting, soft!dom Logan

Author's Note: My first Logan fic! X-Men used to be my world and the fact it is making a comeback has rejuvenated me. Also, I was picturing Logan from the first three trilogies but DOFP!Logan also crossed my mind so :)

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

It was getting close to evening, everyone doing their own thing to unwind after a long day of classes and teaching. You had planned to do the same thing, planning to grab a quick bite in the kitchen before getting ready to relax in your room. You were whipping up a quick and easy sandwich, assembling it onto a plate before moving it to the island in the middle of the kitchen. You went to get a soda from the cupboard, only for your skin to raise as you sense something is about to happen: a certain someone was about to come take your sandwich.

“If you take one bite out of my sandwich Logan, I will kick your ass.”

You turn to see him, eyes wide along with his mouth, about to chomp into your dinner. He closes his mouth, only for him to keep the sandwich in his hands and an “innocent” smile on his face.

“Oh, you mean this sandwich?”

You shut the cupboard door, walking over to him with a stern, playful look. You know he is messing with you. That has been the dynamic of your relationship with him. Ever since he decided to stay here at the school and join the X-Men, you two have grown closer and closer, enjoying each other’s company over anyone else. It didn’t matter what either of you did. You both thrived in the presence of one another.

But something that has become common practice as of late was playful in nature. You both have always teased, but it has recently ramped up. If one of you started it, the other would find a way to end it before starting again. It was the push and pull between the two of you that you loved, and it has only made you long for him. You want to believe he feels the same, but even your mutation of precognition can’t fully confirm that.

“Yes, that is my sandwich. I worked very hard on it. I'll have you know.” You are standing in front of him now, having to look up at him slightly as you wait for his next move.

“I’m sure you did. It looks delicious.” He says, but rather than looking at the food, he is looking right at you. Cheeky bastard.

“Y-yeah, which is why I am asking you to put it down so I may enjoy it.”

“I don’t know. I think I wanna have a taste first.”

His hazel eyes are staring you down, almost begging for you to make a move. In reality, you really didn’t care if he ate it. You could easily make another and enjoy dinner with him. But you know that isn’t what he is doing right now. He is playing with you, wanting to rile you up. Well, it takes two to play that game.

“That sandwich is very precious to me. I’d think before you act.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, bringing his face closer to yours. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll take something precious of yours.”

He chuckles, turning his face to the sandwich. “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart.”

He takes a huge bite out of your sandwich, his eyes closing as he chews. You purse your lips, watching him savor your meal with gusto. You know he is overexaggerating to truly get at you, but little does he know you have a trick up your sleeve.

“Enjoying my meal?”

He turns back to you, swallowing before licking his lips. “Very much. I may have to take another bite.”

You get up in his space, settling onto your tippy toes so your face is by his ear. You let your breath waft against his skin, causing a shiver to shake his core. You can tell he is anticipating what you will do, always highly enjoying your responses to his antics. Oh, he is so in for it.

“That’s okay. You can have it.” You let your pointer finger trace his collarbone that is very much on display from his white, fitted tank. “And you want to know why that is, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath, very apparent that your actions are doing something to him. His left hand lets go of the sandwich to settle on your hip, squeezing the flesh slightly to ground himself. It is actions like that that make you believe you do something to him. Like you drive him just as insane as he does to you. You bring your left hand to his head, pulling him down so you can really get into his ear.

“That’s because I know where you keep your special cigars from Cuba, and I am going to take them.”

You couldn’t have run fast enough. You are already shooting for the stairs, taking two steps at a time as you speed to his room. You knew it had taken him a second to realize what had happened because by the time you got to his floor, you heard him yelling your name.

You burst into his room, locking it quickly. It was only to buy some time, for you knew he had a key. You were giggling as you went to his bookcase, plucking out the blue, hardcover history book. You open it, and smile as you see the unopened cigars there in the deep hole where text used to be. Just as you close the book, you hear heavy footsteps reach the door and a jingle of keys.

You panic, needing to find a way out before he opens the door. You could run around him, but you needed a head start. You could hide and wait for him to leave but you knew he’d sniff you out. There was only one option left, and that was to go out his bedroom window. You hear the key enter the lock, and with a quickness you didn’t think you had, you unlocked his window and flung it open. Just as the door busted open, you crawled out. You grasped onto the ivy that clung to the school’s exterior and began to climb down.

“Oh, when I get my hands on you, you are in for it!”

You look up to see Logan’s head popping out the window. He has a scowl on his face, but you could see the wild look in his eyes. You knew he was enjoying this, for he loves the chase.

“This is for taking my sandwich!” You yell, and continue making your descent.

You hear the window close, which makes you go faster, knowing he is rushing down those stairs to meet you at the bottom. You could sense that he would go to the front door, so once your feet touch the grassy floor you run to the back door. Opening it quickly, you determine your next move. He is probably at the front, ready to intercept you, giving you the opportunity to hide somewhere.

You rush to the hallway where many of the classes are held. You run into the first classroom you see, its door already open. You see the large oak desk at the back of the classroom, and quietly walk up to it. It has a space for leg room, so with haste you crawl in it, pulling the chair in carefully to not make any sound.

Your heart was racing, adrenaline thrashing as you hid. You try to steady your breath, trying to keep quiet. The atmosphere has become eerie, the silence defying as you try to keep it that way. You try to listen for any other sounds over your pounding heart, when another wave of cognition hits you. You can see it clearly, where he finds you under the desk, hands on either side to block you in. You know you need to move on, so you go to move the chair, but you suddenly halt when you hear his voice boom nearby.

“Where is she?”

You cover your mouth, trying to hold in your breathing as well as the gasp that almost shot from your mouth. His voice was coated in gravel, and absolutely primal. Even from afar, it was clear he was worked up, and it made you embarrassingly wet.

You hear footsteps enter the hallway, heavy boots against the shiny wooden floor. At first, you think you may have a way out, hearing him pass the room you were in, but you aren’t so lucky because you hear him stop. You grip onto the book and your mouth, even though you know it will do absolutely nothing. You know he senses you, and it is confirmed when you hear footsteps enter the room. You hear him inhale deeply, exhaling with sigh only to turn into a deep rumble.

“I know you are here.” He is slow in taking his steps, and each step gets closer and closer to your hiding place.

He sniffs deeply again, growling this time around like he was a wild animal. “No point in denying it. I could smell you the second I walked into the hall.”

You know he will find you, and he will block you in. So you decide to take a risk before he closes in on you. You push the chair out far enough to crawl out, before standing up behind the desk. You put your hands up with the book in your left one, trying to show off a sign of surrender.

“You have nowhere to go, dollface. No point in trying’ to run for I’ll snatch you up real quick.”

“You must really want your cigars back to block me in like this.”

He steps even closer, with him now standing right in reach of the book. He could easily grab it and take it, for he is much stronger than you. But he doesn’t make a move, staying glued to his new spot. You don’t know what’s running through his head, his eyes trained on you. It isn’t until he places his hands onto the desk that you take a step back and drop your hands.

“You’re wrong.”

You raise a brow, not sure what he is getting at. “What do you mean?”

He smirks, leaning his body over the desk. “It isn’t the cigars I’m after. Not anymore.”

Your heart is in overdrive. You know the answer, it is becoming obvious. But you ask anyway. “Then what are you after, Lo?”

“I think you know the answer. Now it is a matter of will you let me take what’s mine.”

You want to give in. You are becoming more aroused by the second, but you are starting to really enjoy the chase. Seeing how much it gets him going, to see this side of him, only makes you want to push him more. You want to see what he will do, especially when he gets his hands on you.

You walk around the desk, book of cigars still in hand, getting closer to him until you are toe to toe with him. “What’s the fun in surrendering?”

He quickly blocks you in, the desk pressed against your back. He has the most seductive, but feral grin upon his lips, like he thinks he has won his prize. His head leans down to yours, forehead against forehead, before he whispers his next sentence against your lips.

“The fun is in what follows.”

His lips are on yours, desperate and needy. You can’t help the moan that leaves your throat, mind going hazy as his lips devour. You have craved him for so long, you want this to last forever. However, you cannot give into him like this. You will not make this easy for him.

One of your hands goes to the hem of his tank, fingers lingering before going under. He feels so solid, the coarse hairs on his tummy spread thick as you go to his left side. You can feel him shudder over you, and you try to hold back the smirk that wants to curve onto your lips. You move your fingers sporadically over the left side of his ribcage, causing him to jump back. This gives you the chance to run like hell.

“Hey! That’s unfair!” You hear him yell and it makes you giggle profusely. You must thank Jean later for letting you in on that little secret; that the broody, grumpy man with the metal bones was insanely ticklish. You wish you could turn to see his full reaction, but you are too determined.

You can hear him running right behind you, and you have never been more aroused. You shouldn’t feel so turned on by Logan chasing you around, but the thrill of the chase was seeping into your loins and you were addicted.

More people had shown up around the school, meeting with friends to study or hang out for the evening. You were dodging people left and right, and everyone looked perplexed as they saw Logan charging his way towards you. Many of them probably assumed it had to do with the book you were holding, and while they would have been originally right, they are no longer even close.

You don’t have time to hide again, not with him so close behind. You make it back to the stairs, hauling ass as you try to make it to your room. You can hear him right behind you, breathing heavily and grunting with each step. Your room is at the end of the hall, and you are basically flying with how fast you are running. The second you reach the door, you swing it open and throw yourself in before slamming it. You had gotten it shut, mentally pumping your fist in victory, but by the time you went to turn the lock, it was too late. The door flies open, sending you back a couple feet back as Logan stands at the door's entrance.

“I have you right where I want you. No more running.”

If looks could kill, you’d be ash. He enters your room, closing the door behind him with his eyes staying on you. He takes one step forward, with him now hovering over your smaller form. The way he is looking at you makes your knees faint, for you felt you could hear what he was revealing with his stare.

“I still know your weakness, Logan.” You smirk, holding the book up to your face to dodge any attack he was planning. It is pointless, you know, but it is the best defense you’ve got.

“Do you now?” He walks towards you, in step with you as you go backwards. The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, telling you that you truly have nowhere else to go. He is right on you, grinning now that he has the upper hand.

“I’m afraid that book won’t save you from me.” He snatches the book, tossing it to the side of the bed.

You are in for it. You don’t know what he is planning, and the element of surprise has overcome you. However, with the way he is looking at you, you guarantee that what is about to happen will be just as exhilarating as when he was hunting you down.

“What do you plan to do with me, hm?” You let your fingertips walk along his chest, dancing all the way down to his side like you did earlier.

He is quick to grab your hand, bending down to lift you up in his arm before tossing you onto the bed, following swiftly as he pins both hands above your head.

“Don’t even think about it. I know you all too well.” He growls through his teeth. “As for what I plan on doing, what’s the fun in telling when I can just show you. Would you like that?”

You simply nod, breathless at how he is handling you. However, that wasn’t good enough for him, as he takes hold of your wrists in one hand so his other one can grip your chin.

“I wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.”

You huff, getting frustrated already that he is dragging this out. With your legs still free, you wrap them around his hips, your heels digging into his back causing him to grunt. Your lips are practically on his, faint contact making you antsy. “Show me what you’ve been wanting to do with me.”

Your lips are squashed by his instantly, hunger and desperation clear. His hands go to your thighs, grabbing at the flesh. With your hands free, they go straight to his hair, gripping and tugging on it which causes him to moan hotly into your mouth.

His hands travel up to the hem of your blouse, pushing the fabric up past your stomach before his hands go under. You moan at the contrast, rough hands, that have been through so much running along your unmarred body. He swallows what you give him, groaning happily at the effects he was causing.

You are in heaven. You never thought you would be here like this with Logan. You never thought you would be under him at his complete mercy. It makes a shiver travel down your spine, traveling right to your core that is a heated mess because of the man before you. To be with the man you have pined for is riveting, and you could cry that he seems to return those feelings.

You don’t know what triggers your mutation, but it is sudden. Your vision goes blurry, a strong aura surrounding you. It is overwhelming, a whimper bubbling from your throat as you see what is about to happen. Logan releases your lips with a grunt, looking at you intensely as you start to shake. You feel his rough hands cup your soft cheeks, stroking them gently.

Your cheeks feel hot, your vision turning you into a horny mess. Your hands grip onto Logan’s chest trying to ground yourself to reality. It’s too much. Your visions rarely last long for they are just snippets of future events, but this was different. It was as if you were in a trance, and could feel everything he was doing to you. You don’t know if it is your heightened emotions, especially with him right on you. All you knew is that pleasure was present, and you were starting to fall apart.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You can hear his demeanor change, worry laced in his tone.

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but moan, unable to control yourself. “I can feel everything, Logan.”

There is a pause, hands still touching your face. A few beats later, he lets his right hand go down, only to stop at your thigh squeezing tightly.

“Tell me what you see, baby.”

The rumble in his voice intensifies everything, causing you to grip onto him tighter. “Oh God please don’t make me say it out loud.”

You try to look away, but his left hand shifts so it is grabbing your chin. He forces your head back up, bringing his face down to yours like he had in the classroom. His breath fans over your lips, taking in the way they move as sounds leave them.

“I’m fucking you, aren’t I? Making you lose yourself on my cock? Is that what you are seeing?”

You can barely talk, too enthralled in your vision. You grab the hand that is on your thigh and bring it to the top of your black pants. Logan gets the idea and angles it so he can slide his hand into them. His fingers brush over the fabric, feeling the damp spot that has formed drastically. You hear him curse under his breath, the vibrations hitting your lips as they brush against one another without full pressure.

“Oh sweetheart, you are so wet.” He murmurs, pulling his hand out to bring it up to his nose, inhaling deeply before releasing a sound so feral that you could sob. “And you smell so fucking good.”

You can’t help but nod, not knowing how to respond. All you know is that you need him. Need him to take you on your bed and do whatever he wants to you. You’ll take anything he is willing to give you, for all you want is for him to make himself known to you.

His hand had gone back down to your crotch, cupping your pussy through the material. “Does she want more attention?”

“Logan, please do something.” You choke, your mind steadily coming back to reality, but still not fully letting go. You start to grind down on his palm, desperate for anything he will give you, but he removes his hand, going to the back of your head to grip tightly.

Damn him!

“I know she deserves something, but do you? Do you deserve me after getting me so worked up like that?”

“Logan, I am begging.” You cry out in frustration, your nails digging into his chest causing him to groan lowly. “I want you. God, I’ve always wanted you so please take what’s yours!”

He is back on you, kissing you till the air in your lungs dissipates. He starts to kiss away from your swollen lips, kissing down to your neck. He nips at your pulse point, going up to your ear to give it a light lick before going back down. With every kiss, he takes a deep breath in, which only makes him get more aggressive. Soft kisses turn to an open mouth lather to nips that could have easily broken the skin.

“I don’t think you know what your scent does to me. It draws me in every time.” He bites down particularly hard at your collar bone, and you wouldn’t be surprised if blood had come to the surface.

His hands come back up to the front of your blouse, carefully unbuttoning the garment before revealing your breasts that are almost spilling out of your bra. His hands mold over the cups, squeezing hard and slow as he makes his way to your sternum.

He is being so gentle with you, a complete 180 from how you thought this was going to go. He was so rough with you in your head, fucking you until you couldn’t even say a word. This side of him was endearing, but you crave more from him.

“For someone so feral for me, you sure are taking your time.”

He bites the top of your left breast, making you gasp at the sudden pain. “I don’t think you are ready for that side of me, dollface.”

Your right hand goes to his head, taking a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. You know he wants to absolutely ravish you, and if it’s some convincing he needs, some convincing he is going to get.

“When I said to take what’s yours, I meant it. I want you to make me beg until I’m dumb, so fucking do it.”

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Princess.”

His hands go under your top from the back, unclipping your bra before letting them resurface. He starts to yank your top off from the shoulders, only to smack your thigh that causes a light sting.

“Arch that back for me.”

You do as he says, allowing him to take the rest of your top off along with your bra. He flings them both across the room, only to do the same with his tank. You’ve seen his upper body plenty of times, as there would be instances in which he disregards it for a training session. But this? This was very different. It’s a different atmosphere, and rather than everyone getting an eye full of his muscular, hairy body, it is now for your eyes only.

He’s looking down at you, pupils flared as he takes you in. You shiver as his palms stroke your tummy, slowly going up until they encompass your breasts. Your nipples pebble from the rough texture of his skin, and you can see it excites him. So much so that he takes the opportunity to take your nipples between his fingers and pulls them gently with a pinch. Your back bows off the mattress, adoring the pain he is providing, and let out a mewl as he lets go to run his thumbs over the tender peaks.

“You sound so good,” Logan murmurs. “I need to hear more.”

His right arm goes under your back to keep you up, holding you there as his mouth goes to your left breast. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking with his eyes still on you. Your cheeks flush, head tilting to the side to avoid looking at him. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

Whimpers slip from your mouth, his treatment of your breasts making you want to rub your thighs together to soothe the ache, but he keeps your legs open. He eventually does the same to your other breast, working to match the work he left on your other nipple: hard, and tainted red.

He lets up, sitting on his knees as he unbuttons your pants, hands sliding the material down your legs in earnest. He tosses your heels off before stripping away your bottoms, and he hums as he admires the black, lacy thong you adorn.

“Fuck,” he snaps the elastic, eyes entranced. “You sure you didn’t see this coming earlier? Wearing something sexy like this?”

“They work better with my pants.” You huff, his fingers lightly running along your covered slit.

“Hmm, no wonder your ass looked so good today.” He grins. “But this pussy? I could play with her all day.”

He lowers himself, sliding off the bed only to bring you with him, your body gliding across the comforter with ease. He clutches onto your thighs, letting your legs rest in the crook of his elbows. He keeps his hold tight, bringing his lips down to kiss and suck on your thighs. You gasp at the aggressiveness, swearing you will see dark purple marks on you later. You moan at the idea, as it feels like he is finally claiming you; like are his to mark, to claim, to fuck, to love.

He makes his way to your center, sniffing deeply before releasing a feral growl. He lets the tip of his tongue lightly drag from the bottom to the top of your heat, still fully covered by the damned thong. He flicks at your clit, a ghost of a touch that has you bucking your hips. And he draws back every single time. His self-control is impressive but frustrating all the same.

He starts to suck on it through the material, creating a bigger wet spot with his spit. The more he pushed his tongue against your folds, the more the material would rub just right against you. It made you clench, panting at how much he is teasing you. He pulls away, blowing on your sensitive spot which only makes you whine.

“Awe what is it?” He chuckles, the vibrations barely hitting where you need him. “You want my tongue to play with you?”

His hand lets go of your thigh, fingers tracing the fabric before pulling it to the side. “Lucky for you, I love to play.”

He goes right in, mouth over your bud as he consumes your very being. Your hands shoot to his hair, not prepared for the onslaught of pleasure he is delivering. The swirls he is landing on his target is mind numbing, a tangible pressure that makes you want to curl in on yourself.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, the sound vibrating right on your clit. It makes you buck your hips up, but his left arm presses you down to keep you secure.

“I know you want more, but you are going to have to be patient. I’m not done tasting this sweet pussy. Fuck, you are so sweet.”

You feel one of his fingers near your hole, circling it teasingly before pushing in. His tongue is back on your nerves, mouthing covering it to add slight suction. Even with his big fingers, it’s not nearly enough.

“Logan, please add another.” You say, emphasizing as you clench down on his single digit.

He sucks a little harder, ripping a yelp from your throat. Still, he listens and inserts a second finger with the first. He goes in and out, drawing sighs from your lips as he builds you up. His mouth is going crazy, moving his lips with a vengeance. Your blood is hot, traveling down as your release starts to come to the surface.

You can’t stop clamping down on his fingers, your pussy having a mind of its own. He is pistoning them now, causing your fluids to make its way down your ass onto the comforter. The sounds coming from his handiwork edge you further, your release imminent.

“Oh God, Logan! I’m cumming!”

Big mistake on your part.

He pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A smug look appears on his face, and you have the urge to shove his face back into your aching cunt.

“Your first time cumming with me will be on my cock, sweetheart.”

He pulls your thong down your legs and moves you back to the front of the bed. He stands before you, making light work of removing his belt from the loops of his jeans. His jeans are next, pulling them down with his briefs.

You don’t know what you expected. You weren’t surprised with how well endowed he was, not with the way he is built. But to see it in person is so much different from your imagination. The details that your mind didn’t conjure up, especially the vein that starts from his lower stomach to the tip of his cock. It makes you salivate, wanting to run your tongue along it.

“You like what you see, darlin’?” He noticed you staring, but you have no shame. Not anymore.

“Yeah, want it in my mouth so bad.”

He walks over to you, his cock in your face. His hand goes to your head, stroking the baby hairs that are starting to stick to your temple. “As much as I would love that, I am dying to give you the fucking you deserve, sweetheart. However…” he brings your head up closer to his cock, your lips not even an inch away. “How about you get it nice and wet for me.”

You don’t have to be told twice. You work up a good amount of spit, letting it drip from your mouth onto his hard cock. You start to lick at the sides, spreading your saliva all over until he is covered. You are basically making out with his dick, your lips and tongue moving like you had when you were kissing him earlier. It isn’t until you get to that vein of his that you start to go wild, licking it up and down.

Logan is groaning deeply, and pulls your head back, a string of saliva connecting before breaking apart. You hear him curse under his breath before crawling back onto the bed, his hands holding your face as he brings his lips to you. His kisses are slow this time, letting it sink in that this is happening; that you two are about to be connected.

“You did such a good job. You are such a good girl.” He murmurs against your lips before sitting up.

His dick is now sitting heavy on your mound, and the weight of it feels delicious. He taps it against your clit a few times, your hips thrusting up in kind.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” He lets his cock rut into your folds, thrusting up into your clit. “I think that sweet thing of yours is.”

“Give it to me, Lo. I need you so bad it hurts.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take that pain away.” He promises.

And as promised, he places the tip right at your aching hole and pushes in slowly. Your jaw slacks, the pressure as he continues his descent much more intense than you anticipated. It’s been so long since you’ve given yourself to someone. It all feels new, and you are thankful; thankful that it's with him.

He is fully seated in you, and you can only describe it as euphoric. With the way he sits heavy in your cunt, filling you up completely, you can honestly say that this was meant to happen. Logan was meant to be with you in every single possible way imaginable. It’s the only explanation.

“How does it feel, baby?” Logan asks, hands rubbing up and down your thighs soothingly.

“It feels,” you whimper, gripping down on him. “It feels so good, Lo.”

“Yeah? My cock makin’ you feel good, doll?” He groans, clearly being affected by your behavior.

Before you can mutter a pathetic answer, your brain turning to mush, he shifts back. His cock slides out until the mushroom head is at your entrance, and then he slams back in; hard and slow.

The constant back and forth of his cock has you shaking, his hard thrust knocking the air out of your lungs and the slow thrusts feeling oh so good. And with the way he is watching you, his face mimicking yours as he receives his own pleasure, is sending zaps of electricity to your cunt. It makes you grasp onto him hard as he gets you more worked up.

Logan sits up straighter, grabbing your right leg and bringing it up to his shoulder. His left hand keeps it steady as he speeds up slightly and presses gentle kisses to your ankle in the process. It lets him go deeper, kissing your cervix every time it goes in. The pressure feels incredible, and the more he speeds up, the more your cunt starts to spasm out of control.

“That’s it, baby. You are taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me.” He growls out, biting your ankle.

“God yes, Logan! I’m yours!” You cry out, him and his cock making you utterly delirious. “You were made for my pussy!”

“Fuck, you got a mouth on you.” He chides, his right hand going to your right breast.

He is squeezing your tit so tight; his hips are on autopilot with how fast he is taking you. Your hands don’t know where to go, going from gripping the fabric below to holding onto his wrist. He is putting you into a completely fucked out state, and you can’t get enough of that treatment.

You can tell you are on the precipice of cumming. You are clenching on and off rapidly, no longer in control of your muscles. The sounds coming from your coupling, wet smacking echoes that are music to your ears. You can feel the telltale sensation of being overwhelmed, and you know you are now on the track of no return.

“Logan, baby, I’m gonna cum!”

He snarls at you, a crazed look in his eyes as he slams into you. He lets go of your tit to grab your chin, keeping your eyes on his. “Do it, darlin’. Cum around my cock.”

You are over the edge in seconds, a silent scream taking over as you tremble and quake. Your pussy is convulsing like crazy, small gushes of liquid coming out. You see Logan look down at where you two are connected, and he is grinning like crazy.

“What a fucking sight. There isn’t one thing about you that isn’t pretty.”

You could sob at his words, especially with how overstimulated you are becoming. You work his cock, wanting him to cum inside of you.

“Give me your cum, Logan. Fill me until I’m dripping.”

Your words must have triggered something because next thing you know he has let go of your leg and face and is falling onto his forearms with his mouth landing on yours. You hear the sound of his claws, completely unsheathed from his skin, causing him to bellow into your mouth, rutting like a madman which causes cum to leak out from your hole onto the bedding.

He slows down, milking out the rest of his spend before stopping all together. He lets go of your lips gasping, face buried in your shoulder as he tries to calm down. Your hands go to his back, massaging the taut muscles as he shakes.

“Fuck, Logan,” you sigh, catching your breath as you come back to earth. You feel so relaxed, even with your guts feeling completely rearranged.

You hear his claws sink back into his skin, and it is then that he pulls out, falling to the other side of the bed. His chest is going up and down with every heavy breath, and you can’t help but admire him like this.

He turns his head over to you, his hand coming to grab the hand by your side. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You make it over into his side, head laying on his chest as you both bask in the post-sex glow. You can’t help but smile at this turn of events, not expecting to have been in this position with Logan. But here you are, laying on his chest with his arms around you.

You notice something in your peripherals and see splintering from the headboard of your bed. There are six holes in the wood, and it sends you into a laughing fit, a euphoric glaze covering your entire body.

“What’s so funny?” He asks gruffly, pulling you into side as you continue to laugh.

“Your claws pierced my headboard.”

You see him glance back, and you see him sigh, relaxing more into the mattress. “I’ll fix it up for you, darlin’. I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to say sorry.” You snuggle your face into his skin, breathing in his natural musk as you relax more into him. “I just can’t believe we did that, but I’m glad it did.”

“I can say the same.” He murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “Seriously, I gotta know, did you see this coming?”

You shift up, going to lay your arms across his chest only for you to rest on them. You look into his eyes and the need in them is still there, but not in the way they were before. They were searching, looking for any confirmation that what you both just did truly meant more. It makes him look vulnerable, something he rarely shows. It makes you smile at the prospect of him opening up even more.

“Not until today. It’s strange now that I think about it.”

“And why is that?”

“I never saw you coming, I guess. Even when it is clear as day how you felt about me, I never got anything that told me it was real. I didn’t want to potentially screw anything up between us.”

He hums, a look of contemplation on his face before taking a hand and rubbing his face, a long sigh coming out in the process. “I suppose that’s my fault.”

You can’t help but look confused. His fault? “Why do you say that?”

“I haven’t been fully honest, but ever since I came here, no matter how welcomed and appreciated I am here, I have contemplated leaving.” His hand leaves his face to go behind your neck, lightly scratching the skin at the nape before continuing. “I’ve been alone for a long time. Having a family has never been in the books for me. It is easier to not let people in.”

“So, that’s why I couldn’t see you coming. You hadn’t made up your mind?”

“It’s possible, but it’s just a theory.”

“But, if that’s the case, have you made your mind up?” You start rubbing his chest with your palm, feeling his heart pulse slowly. You are confident you know the answer now, but you want to hear him say it.

He grunts in laughter, shaking his head slightly before letting his fingers curl around the back of your neck. “I think you know the answer, princess. But if you really want to know, come up here.”

You push yourself from him, moving so you are straddling his torso. He brings his hands to your face once more, pulling you down so you are face to face with him. He kisses you, slowly initiating intimacy with his lips. He isn’t saying anything, but you can feel what he is saying through the act alone.

“I can’t close myself off from you,” he says between kisses. “And I don’t want to. Especially if you’ll have me.”

“I think you already know the answer to that, Lo.”

“Still, I wanna hear you say it.”

You pull away so you can look into his eyes, giving him all the sincerity you can muster. “I love you, and I want you to stand by me.”

He smiles teeth and all, and pulls you back down, kissing all over your face causing you to squeal. “Hmm I love you too, sweetheart. Always have.”

You both stay like that for a while, basking in each other's company in post-coital ecstasy by continuing to taste one another. Another thought came over you, and you can’t help but laugh again.

“If I had known sex would make you like this, I would have made a move a long time ago.” Logan jokes, breathing them in.

“I’m sorry, but I’m laughing because it took me taking your cigars hostage to do it.”

Logan throws his head back, chuckling at what you presume is the same thing you are laughing about.

“Speaking of those cigars, can you grab them for me?”

You perk up, pushing away from him to lean over to your side of the bed. Your fingers stretch for the book, getting a grasp on it before getting settled back with Logan. He pulls you in quickly, hurdling you into his side. You see he has his lighter ready, which he must have grabbed while you were getting his cigars.

“You gonna smoke one?”

He hums, taking one out. “I only smoke these on special occasions. I think this qualifies.”

He carefully unsheathes a claw, cutting the end before it sinks back under his skin. He flickers the lighter, letting the bright flame linger on the end to get a good burn going. He then lays back, pulling you even closer into his side, before taking his first puff.

You smile, laying your head against him as you let your eyes drift closed. You feel yourself drifting away, the smell of his cigar and the sound of his pulse lulling you to a deep sleep; a sleep with dreams that you hope feel like déjà vu in the near future.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #logan fic #logan smut #x-men fic #my fics

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