#thinking of them at the beach or boardwalk
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Billy falls deeper in love when he sees Steve laugh under the California sun for the first time
his pretty face scrunching as he throws his head back and laughs, his brown hair lightened naturally over the summer, bronzed
his eyes, though, are still the colour of coffee beans — dark and big and always catching Billy’s gaze whenever he glances over
he can’t even remember what he said to make Steve laugh so hard, but it doesn’t matter
he’s fucking obsessed with the pretty boy from Indiana, who uprooted himself for Billy, as if he deserved it
(Steve always tells him how happy he is here with him, in their little loft apartment, how he’s glad Billy talked him into moving)
he commits the music of Steve’s laughter to his memory, tucks it deep inside himself, for whenever he needs it most
and he smiles as he leans over, pulling his boyfriend in for a quick peck, savouring the little hums of leftover laughter that Steve makes against his mouth with a smile
#harringrove#steve harrington#billy hargrove#i had this moment painted in my mind just now#thinking of them at the beach or boardwalk#enjoying lunch when billy tells a joke or story and steve’s tickled by it#and then billy’s entranced#bambiwrites
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Close to You (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)
A/N: Oh my god. I got so carried away with this. It was not supposed to be this long. Anyway, here's the beach fic, y'all. This one is inspired by "Close to You" by Gracie Abrams...which is an absolute banger. Hope you enjoy!
Summary: The team goes away on a weekend beach trip, and your pining for Logan comes to a head when you're forced to share a room...
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!! Thigh riding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, soft!Logan, feelings, fluff, afab!reader/fem!reader, reader wears a bikini (no descriptions at all, though!), one bed trope (muahaha), friends to lovers, cursing, absolutely some grammatical errors bc this fic is so long, I think that's it!
Word Count: 6,577 this was so self indulgent
You step out onto the concrete and the salt in the air immediately coats your skin. The breeze is sticky and slightly humid, but it smells so good. You can hear the waves crashing against the sand, seagulls squawking above. Laughter on the boardwalk. Carnival music blaring from all the rides. It’s perfect—the sun is high, fluffy white clouds framing the endless blue sky.
“We’re going to have so much fun!” Jubilee cheers, closing the car door as she slides out of the Jeep.
Jean and Scott step out of their car, parked just up ahead, unloading their bags. “It’s so nice of the Professor to give us the weekend off!” Jean says excitedly, placing her bag down onto the sidewalk and wheeling it up to the porch of the house. “I can’t believe he rented this place for us.” It’s a yellow, two-story cottage with a lemonade porch, adorned with white shutters and a shingled roof.
Logan makes his way to the trunk of his Jeep, pulling out bag after bag. You rush to his side, reaching inside the trunk. “Let me help you,” you mumble as the rest of the team excitedly approaches the house.
Logan smiles and shakes his head, reaching for the same bag you are. His fingertips brush yours as he takes the bag away, your heart beating in your chest at the sudden contact. “Don’t worry, princess,” he huffs, smirking as he places the bag down in front of you. Heat rises to your chest at the nickname. “Don’t lift a finger. Go inside and check out the place.” He nods his head towards the front door and grabs another bag.
You smile, throwing your backpack over your shoulder, grabbing two bags, and carrying them to the front door in protest. “Gonna help you anyway,” you say over your shoulder. Logan chuckles as he closes the truck, grabbing the rest of the duffle bags and following behind you.
He meets your side as you walk through the doors. The walls are pale blue, and the bottom halves are lined with white shiplap. Beechwood covers the floors. The living room is light and airy, white curtains floating through opened windows. The kitchen is off to the side, and to the back is a large open sunroom. Just straight ahead are the stairs.
Jean and Scott settle some groceries on the counter as Jubilee, Kurt, Rogue, and Gambit head upstairs to see the bedrooms.
“Hey, guys?” Jubilee calls from upstairs. You can tell by the sound of her voice that something is off. “I thought the Professor said there’d be six beds.”
Jean puts away a bag of chips and steps back into the living room, following Jubilee’s voice up the steps, and disappearing as her feet hit the landing. “How many are there?” She asks, her voice muffled.
“Five,” Jubilee answers. “Three queens and two bunk beds, and Kurt and I took the bunks already.”
��That’s fine,” Jean says, shrugging her shoulders as she heads back downstairs. “We’ll all just be a little tight—closer quarters than usual.”
And that’s when it finally hits you. Three queen beds—and Kurt and Jubilee took the twin bunks.
You’ll be sharing a room with Logan.
You turn to him and find that his eyes are already on you. “You okay sharing, princess?” He asks, nodding to the steps.
You swallow harshly, trying to mask your nervousness, hoping Logan can’t hear the way your heart beats out of your chest. “Yeah!” You say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Totally fine with it.”
He nods, smiling softly as he walks towards the steps, his bags in his hands. You follow behind him, the wood stairs creaking with every step you take.
Jean was not exaggerating; the upstairs of the house is extremely small. There may be four bedrooms—but bedroom is a generous title. Each room is only large enough to hold a queen bed, a single dresser, and a small nightstand on either side of the bed. There’s little to no walking room. One of the rooms—Kurt and Jubilee’s—has just a bunk bed and a nightstand, with a tiny wardrobe in the corner. In the center of the tight hallway is a bathroom with a simple sink, toilet, and a stand-up shower.
Logan steps into the first bedroom to the left of the stairs and puts his bags down on the ground. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asks, watching as you put your bags down next to his. “I can sleep on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”
You shake your head, walking over to the window and taking in the view of the ocean. “Don’t worry,” you say, watching kids run across the sand, trying to distract yourself from how close Logan is to you in this tiny room. “We’re adults.” You turn to face him, fighting the urge to let your eyes trail up and down his body. “We can share.” Or at least, you hope you can.
You can handle this for a weekend. You can force down your feelings—can ignore your massive crush on Logan for seventy-two hours. That’s all this is. A weekend trip. This is doable. You’ve been through so much worse than this.
“If you change your mind, you can let me know,” Logan says, reaching his arm out towards your shoulder. His knuckles brush against your bare skin, and you let yourself lean into his touch. He’s warm, solid, cozy—
“Let’s go to the beach!” Jubilee interrupts, Logan’s hand falling from your shoulder instantly. “We didn’t come here to sit in a house all weekend, did we?” She jumps away from the door and runs down the stairs.
“Kid has a point,” Logan says, shrugging his shoulders and nodding towards the door. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you say, smiling widely. “Already have my bathing suit on.” Logan smiles back and grabs your wrist, tugging you into the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door.
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You’re sitting on the beach, watching as Jubilee and Kurt splash each other recklessly in the water. Jean sits in a chair, reading a book, while Scott lays on a beach towel, eyes likely closed behind his glasses. Rogue and Gambit walk down the shoreline, hand in hand.
Logan stands up from the beach blanket you share, tugging his beater up and over his head. “I’m going in,” he says, just to you. “Wanna come?” He reaches out his hand again, the same hand that tugged you the whole way here. You bite your lip, nerves building in your stomach again. “Come on,” Logan says, smirking. “I don’t bite.”
Your heart flutters in your chest, and you take his hand, standing up. You let go and tug your shorts down your legs. You look up at Logan as your fingertips find the hem of your tank top, his eyes trained firmly on you. Your stomach somersaults as you pull your shirt up your body, revealing your bikini top, knowing Logan is watching.
Logan’s throat bobs as he swallows. He nods towards the ocean, wordlessly grabbing your hand again and tugging you along.
The waves lap at your ankles, and you force yourself into the cold water. Logan seemingly has no problem at all, pulling you along from a few feet ahead. The water is already up to his hips. He looks behind at you, all wide-eyed and happy.
“You’re not afraid, are you?” He teases, squeezing your hand tighter. Your heart drums against your ribcage at the feeling. He’s never held your hand like this. You try to shove down your feelings, to brush away how having him this close makes you feel, but nothing changes. You want him all the same.
You take a deep breath and shake your head as the cold water barrels against the middle of your thighs. “No,” you protest. “I’m just freezing.”
Logan smiles wider. “You gotta get all the way in!” He tugs you further, pulling you closer to him so that you’re shoulder to shoulder. You can’t tell if it’s the icy waves or your proximity to Logan that makes your heart freeze in your chest, that makes you crave the warmth of his body. You want to be close to him. You want him to pull you into his chest and hold you.
“Do I have to?” You ask playfully, a half-smile turning up at the corner of your mouth.
He jokingly rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he says, dropping your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist instead. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. You choke on your own breath as he guides you further into the water. “You okay?” He asks.
“I’m fine,” you mumble, his fingertips pressing against the bare skin of your stomach. Goosebumps pebble your flesh. Finally, Logan guides you all the way into the water, up to your shoulders. It’s a surprisingly calm day—the waves easy and gentle.
Logan lets go of your waist and treads water, slipping underneath the dark blue current and coming back up—his hair wet, drops of water dripping down his face and neck. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips at the sight.
“Your turn,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes half shut as he swims towards you.
Your smile drops as you swim away. Logan grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him. You yelp as he tugs you closer. You turn around and splash him playfully, freeing yourself from his grasp as he wipes the salt water off his face.
You laugh, still backing away from Logan. He creeps forward, assessing you like an animal stalks its prey. “You’re not getting away that easy, pretty girl,” he huffs.
What was that? Your eyes widen as those last two words repeat in your head. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice him closing the gap between the two of you. Suddenly his hands are on your hips, dragging you into his chest.
His grip is like iron around your waist, keeping you in place, your hips pressed to his, your chests touching lightly. You don’t feel the coldness of the water anymore—you can’t feel anything except Logan.
“What am I gonna do with you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. The world stopped long ago, his arms wrapping around your back now, pulling you closer. The playfulness of the moment disappears—this is something else, something more serious. Logan brings his face closer to yours, his lips just centimeters away. This is it, you think to yourself. The moment when everything finally changes—
“Hey!” A familiar voice calls from the beach. Logan’s eyes fall closed—an almost defeated look painting across his face. Your head whips to the sand, and the team is standing by the beach chairs. Jubilee waves you and Logan over. “We’re going to the boardwalk! Come on!”
Logan opens his eyes. You think he’s going to push you away, to let you go, but he only holds you tighter. “Give us a second!” He shouts, frustration clear in his voice.
But Jubilee crosses her arms against her chest. Scott chuckles and walks ahead with Jean. Gambit and Rogue look at each other knowingly, and Kurt teleports to the edge of the water.
“And just like that…” Logan murmurs, half to himself, half to you. “Moment ruined.”
You tilt your head, the implication of his words wracking your brain. “What do you mean—”
But Logan is pulling you along with him to the shore before you can finish asking for clarification. His arms drop from your waist, his hand grabbing yours to guide you onto the sand. He bends down, picking up your shorts and top from the beach blanket the team left out, and passing them to you.
“Thanks,” you mumble, your hands parting as he shoves his beater up and over his head. Once you’re dressed, flip-flops and all, you join the team and make your way up to the boardwalk.
Gambit is talking with Logan about something just ahead, trailing on and on, clearly irritating Logan, while Rogue falls back to walk with you.
“So,” she says softly, her eyes flitting between you and Logan. “What’s going on there, sugar?” She asks, smirking.
You furrow your brows, trying to hide your smile. “Nothing that I know of,” you say, somewhat honestly. This might be nothing—might just be a friend teasing another friend. A friend whose lips were just inches from yours, so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your face. A friend who dug his fingers into your waist to pull you closer to his—
“Nothing, huh?” She asks, snapping you back to reality. “Because I think he would’ve kissed you if Jubilee didn’t interrupt,” she whispers so only you can hear.
Heat rises to your chest at her words. “I don’t know. We’re just friends…” You trail off.
“We’ll see about that, sugar,” Rogue says, walking ahead, tearing Gambit away from Logan. Logan’s shoulders visibly relax once Gambit is gone, and he looks back at you, slowing his steps so that you can meet his side.
“Hi,” he husks, smiling down at you.
You smile back, the warmth of his hand suddenly spreading across your lower back. It’s gentle, the ghost of a touch, almost not quite there—more tentative than in the ocean when it felt like no one was watching. But it’s solid and centering all the same.
“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel!” Jubilee suggests, holding out the ticket booklet that Jean and Scott ran ahead to buy. She tears out tickets—three for each person. Jean and Scott hold hands and walk to the front of the line. Rogue leans over to Jubilee, whispering something into her ear that makes her eyes widen. She nods and pairs off with Kurt. Rogue turns around and winks at you while Logan isn’t looking.
You look up at him and see that he’s staring off at the sun slowly setting. Pink, orange, and red erupt in the sky, the colors blending, painting across the wispy clouds. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” you say as the others climb into the Ferris wheel gondolas in pairs.
Logan smirks, his eyes finding yours as you approach the front of the line. “Looks like it, pretty girl,” he husks. There it is again. Pretty girl. The ride attendant slows down the wheel, and you and Logan slip inside the gondola. You think maybe he’ll sit across from you, but he sits next to you instead.
The attendant closes the door of the gondola, and the ride starts up. Once you’re off the ground, Logan slips his arm around your shoulder, his palm warm against your bare skin. “This okay?” He asks, his lips at the shell of your ear.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter, your breath catching in your throat as his thumb brushes gentle circles into your arm. You let your head rest in the crook of his neck, and he leans against you, fitting together like puzzle pieces.
It’s silent communication—knowing, but not saying. You can feel his intention as his arm tugs you closer, his lips at the crown of your head. Your heart beats out of your chest—for the millionth time today—and you know he can hear it.
You reach the top of the Ferris wheel and look out at the ocean, the sun hitting the water, turning the blue waves to gold. “It’s beautiful,” you mumble, the current rippling against the shore, glistening vibrantly like the ocean figured out alchemy.
Logan chuckles softly. “I can think of something prettier, you know,” he husks, his lips still pressed into the crown of your head. Your heart thumps in your chest at his words. You lift your head, looking up at him.
His eyes meet yours, a soft smile playing upon his lips. “Logan, I—”
But the gondola comes to a sudden stop, and the door to the car swings open. You’re already back on the ground. The attendant crosses his arms, waiting for you and Logan to get out. Logan rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and helping you back onto the boardwalk. The team is already off the ride, waiting for the two of you at the exit.
“Why don’t we play some games and then head back to the house for the night?” Scott suggests, his arm wrapped around Jean’s waist.
Jubilee smiles widely. “Yes! I wanna play the game where you throw the lobster into the pot!”
“Gambit’s gonna win chere a prize,” Gambit drawls, tugging Rogue into his chest. “The biggest one Gambit can find.” Rogue giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Jubilee and Kurt run off to the other side of the boardwalk, immediately finding the lobster-pot game. Jean and Scott follow behind, making sure they don’t get into trouble. Rogue and Gambit go out on their own, heading toward the ring toss game.
You and Logan are left alone. Again. Surely everyone is doing this on purpose. “What do you wanna play?” You ask, nodding towards the array of games lined up on the opposite side of the boardwalk.
His eyes meet yours, flitting down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “Whatever you want, darlin’.” You smile, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards balloon darts.
You approach the booth, and Logan pulls out his wallet, handing a five-dollar bill to the woman running the game. She slides a cup of five darts towards you and Logan, and steps off to the side, away from the balloons. Logan watches as you grab a dart and throw, completely missing the balloon you were aiming for. You groan, rolling your eyes, and grab another dart.
“Here,” Logan rasps, standing behind you. He holds your hand in his, lining the dart up to a balloon. His other arm wraps around your waist, the front of his hips pressing into your back. ��Like this,” he murmurs, pulling your hand back. You let go of the dart when he thrusts forward. The dart pierces a balloon, the pop echoing through the booth.
You look up at him, his face close to yours, and smile. He grabs another dart, his eyes still focused on you, and throws without looking away, popping another balloon. “Now you’re just showing off,” you say teasingly as your smile grows wider. He grabs another dart, aiming at a bigger balloon this time, and pierces it with ease.
“Gotta win you a prize, pretty girl,” he says, grabbing the last dart from the cup, and tossing it across the booth, directly into the biggest balloon on the board. It pops—of course—and the game attendant’s jaw drops.
She shakes her head, walking over to the bigger prizes. “Never seen anyone do that before…” she trails off, pointing to the giant plushies. “You can pick any of these.”
Logan’s arm sneakily wraps around your waist as he waits for you to pick between a giant fox, panda, or dolphin. “The fox, definitely the fox,” you decide.
The attendant grabs the fox and pulls it down, handing it to you. You squeeze it to your chest, Logan’s grip on your waist tightening. “He’s so cute!” You giggle, looking up at Logan, who’s guiding you towards the edge of the boardwalk. “Thank you,” you say softly.
He shakes his head and looks out towards the water. “It was nothing,” he says, his arm still around your waist as you lean against the railing of the boardwalk. The sun is falling behind the horizon, stars rising in the sky.
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he turns to face you. “Listen…” He starts, his jaw working as his grip on your waist falls away, his forearms bracing on the railing. Your shoulder presses against his, the tension between you palpable. “I’ve been thinking…” But he pauses again, his eyes searching yours.
“We ready to head back to the house?” Scott asks, interrupting the conversation. Logan’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and he leans forward.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Logan mutters, thinking you can’t hear him, resting his head against the railing.
Jubilee grabs your arm, holding up her little stuffed teddy bear. “Look what I won!” Her smile drops when she sees your giant fox. “Oh my god, my bear is nothing compared to that! That thing is massive!”
You smirk, glancing over at Logan. “Wouldn’t have gotten it if it wasn’t for him.” Logan lifts his head and smiles sheepishly at you.
The moon rises high in the quickly darkening sky. You’re not quite sure where the day went. Everything happened so quickly—the hours spent on the sand, Logan tugging you into the water. It was perfect. Beyond perfect. And now it was time to head back.
The team treks down the boardwalk and onto the street, trailing a few blocks before arriving back at the house. You and Logan walk shoulder to shoulder the whole way there, leading at the front of the group. Logan grabs the key from his pocket, unlocks the door, and you all head inside.
Jubilee and Kurt run into the kitchen scavenging for snacks. Gambit and Rogue crash onto the living room couch.
“We’re gonna head to bed,” Scott says, Jean following him up the stairs. “Night, guys.” Everyone mutters soft goodnights in response, and a comfortable silence falls upon the house.
“Gonna steal the upstairs shower before they get to it,” you whisper to Logan, nodding to Jubilee and Kurt.
He smirks. “I’ll shower down here,” he says back. “See you upstairs?” He asks.
“Yeah,” you answer, suddenly remembering that you’re sharing not just a room with Logan, but a bed. You walk away and head upstairs, grabbing your pajamas from your duffle bag and making your way to the bathroom.
You turn on the water and undress. The shower is warm and relaxing, releasing the tension you had spent the entire day holding in. But the peace is temporary—your thoughts drift off to Logan. You imagine him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, waiting for you to join him. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you try to ignore the heat growing at the bottom of your belly. Maybe you should’ve taken a cold shower instead.
You finish up in the shower, turning the water off and grabbing a towel. You reach for your pajamas, only to realize you forgot your bottoms and your bra. You step into your panties and shrug your oversized band t-shirt over your head. You push the bathroom door open just a crack, and seeing no one in the hallway, you make a break for it, tip-toeing to your room. You slip inside and shut the door.
Logan coughs from behind you, and you whip around. “S-sorry,” he stutters, standing up from the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless, just like you imagined he’d be, wearing only a pair of boxers. His hair is still damp from his shower. “I didn’t mean to—”
You cut him off. “No, no,” you assure. “It’s totally fine.” You’re worried you sound too eager, too focused on making sure he stays. You clear your throat nervously, stepping towards your duffle bag. You lean down, hoping your t-shirt is still covering your ass as you rifle through your belongings. You groan when you finally realize you forgot to pack pajama shorts. You stand up and make your way around to the left side of the bed.
“Everything okay?” Logan asks, following suit and walking to the right side of the bed.
“Yeah,” you say. “I, um…” You trail off, motioning towards your duffle bag. “I forgot pajama bottoms,” you finally spit out. “If you’re uncomfortable or—”
“No,” Logan cuts you off this time. “I’m not uncomfortable at all.”
You smile, climbing into the bed and slipping under the covers, and Logan does the same. He rolls onto his side and turns off the lamp—the only light on in the room. The space is engulfed in darkness save for the pale light of the moon pushing through the curtains.
You take a deep breath; you’re more nervous than you can comprehend. You could simply turn away from Logan, but you’re too anxious to move. Your stomach somersaults as his knee brushes against your thigh. You force your eyes shut, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.
“I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Logan mumbles into the dark room, shuffling under the covers. “You okay?”
You swallow harshly, humming a soft mhm, too distracted to form a complete sentence.
“I know you aren’t telling the truth, pretty girl,” Logan whispers, his hand finding your waist. “I can sleep on the couch, if you—”
“No,” you protest, the words escaping your lips almost uncontrollably. “It’s f-fine,” you stammer. “I’m fine.”
He chuckles darkly. “Then what’s got you so worked up, huh?” Oh. He knows. He has to know. You can hear it in his voice.
“N-nothing,” you lie, your eyes fluttering open. Logan is closer to you now, his fingertips trailing down to your thighs, to the hem of your shirt.
“Relax,” Logan husks, his hand slipping back up your body and settling on your waist. He tugs you closer to him. “This okay?” He asks, and you hum a quiet yes. You can feel the tension thickening, feel it readying to snap. He breaks the silence. “Thought about this all day, you know.”
Your eyes widen at the confession. “Th-this?” You ask, your legs tangling with his.
“Being alone with you,” Logan rasps. Your shirt hikes up as he pulls you into his chest. “Wanted to get you alone earlier,” he says, his hand sliding back down your body, playing with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath. His fingertips drag along your stomach.
You curse under your breath, Logan’s forehead pressing against yours. “Logan,” you whisper, his name the only thing you can think of. You’re sure he can smell the arousal building between your thighs.
“There’s no going back from this. You know that, don’t you?” He whispers, his breath hot against your lips. He’s so close, his thigh pushing between your legs, bumping against your core.
“Yes,” you sigh. “Don’t wanna go back.”
Your eyes flutter closed, overwhelmed by how close Logan is to you. “Good,” he breathes. “Because you have no idea how much I need you.”
His lips crash against yours, his thigh dragging along your core. You moan into his mouth, his tongue swiping across your lower lip. You part your lips, inviting him inside, his tongue tasting yours.
“Logan,” you whine, involuntarily bucking your hips, grinding down on his thigh. “N-need you too.”
“I know, beautiful,” he soothes, gripping your waist, rolling you onto your back, pushing you into the mattress. “Fucking thought about you all day, always thinking about you.” He slides your shirt up above your tits, drinking you in with his eyes. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl.” He hovers over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand explores your body.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he palms your left breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then doing the same to the other side. It’s dizzying having him this close. You can smell his body wash—notes of musk and pine and a hint of leather on his skin.
“Please,” you beg, not quite sure what you’re even begging for. All you know is how badly you want him—need him.
Logan buries his face into the crook of your neck as his thumb rolls over your nipple, biting down on your pulse point and sucking the sensitive skin between his lips. “Please what, darlin’?” He mumbles, continuing his assault on your neck.
“F-fuck,” you whimper, your hips rocking against Logan’s. “W-want you to fuck me.”
“Yeah? That what you want?” Logan teases, his hand pushing between your legs, his fingertips finding your clit through your panties. “What if I wanted to taste you first?”
“W-whatever you want,” you moan, grinding down onto his hand. “I’m yours.”
He lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead to yours. “Whatever I want?” His voice is thick, cocky, almost mocking. “You’re mine,” he husks, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck. “All fucking mine.” He crawls down your body, trailing kisses down the valley of your breasts, your stomach, stopping just above the hem of your panties.
Your hips lift off the mattress as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down your legs, throwing them to the floor. He nestles between your thighs, his breath hot against your cunt. You tremble in anticipation, watching as he breathes you in, his jaw working. You can see in his eyes that he’s holding himself back.
“Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice suddenly soft, his cockiness replaced by genuine care. "Not gonna be able to stop once I start.” But you know he doesn’t just mean in the moment, right now—he means forever.
“I’m sure, Lo,” you whine. It comes out like a prayer, like a desperate cry, a guilty plea.
And then he buries his face into your heat, his tongue swiping through your folds. He grunts against you, flicking your clit before stroking his tongue through your folds again. “Fuck,” Logan groans, his face pressing harder into you, his tongue exploring your cunt. “Tastes better than I ever imagined,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his voice pulsing against your core. “So fucking sweet.”
Your hips jolt away from him as his tongue laps at your sensitive clit. His palms quickly slide under your legs, wrapping around your thighs, yanking you back to his face, and holding you down onto the mattress. “Don’t move, princess,” he chides, his nails digging into your flesh. “Wanna eat this pretty pussy.”
“L-Lo,” you stutter as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles around your clit. You’re already close, his teasing words enough to push you over the edge. But you know he’s nowhere near done—he’s only getting started.
His right hand loosens its grip around your thigh, his nails dragging down the curve of your ass and towards your folds. His fingertips prod your slit, spreading your slick. “So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” he praises, his lips wrapping around your clit, his teeth grazing the bud lightly as he sucks. “Want my fingers?” He asks, knowing your answer, but wanting to hear you beg for him.
“Yes, Logan, please. Need—”
He’s thrusting two long, thick fingers deep inside you before you can finish your sentence. “Fuck,” he whispers, pulling out and pumping back in—down to his knuckles. He stills inside you, letting you adjust to him. “So goddamn tight.” His tongue laps at your clit. “Gonna have to work you open for me, hm?” He mutters, thrusting in and out now.
You’re so overwhelmed, your swollen clit already overstimulated. He wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking harder this time, his fingers unrelenting as they plunge deeper with every pump. His tongue draws long, hard strokes around your bud, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
It feels like a wildfire is spreading through your veins, a current dragging you under and holding you down. Warmth blossoms in your belly. “Doing so good for me, beautiful,” Logan praises, his fingers fucking into you. Your walls flutter around him at his words, sucking him in deeper. “Know you’re close, pretty girl.”
“Logan,” you moan, his tongue drawing those tight circles around your clit again. He’s adding more pressure, his fingers dragging along your walls, scissoring inside you, splitting you in two. “Please, need to come…” You trail off, your back arching off the mattress, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“Come for me,” Logan demands, his voice dark and filled with lust. “Wanna know what it tastes like.” His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers rocking in and out of your entrance. “Wanna see that pretty face when you let go.”
And then the tension breaks, white-hot heat pouring freely from the bottom of your belly. Your vision goes blurry as Logan laps at your clit, his fingers still pumping in and out, working you through your high. You moan his name, pleasure ripping through your body in intense waves.
His pumps relax, his fingers stilling inside you before he finally pulls out. His face is still buried against your cunt, licking long stripes through your folds. He’s savoring the taste of your release, drinking every last drop you have to give. “Can’t get enough of you,” he husks. “Could do this forever.”
He licks one last long stripe through your folds before lifting his face from your cunt. He’s a mess—your release glistening on his chin, his hair disheveled, his boxers all wrinkled. Your heart beats in your chest at the sight. All this, just for you.
Logan crawls up your body, hovering over you again, lowering down onto his forearm. “Wanna fuck you, beautiful,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. “Wanna know what you feel like.” His hand slips between your legs, his fingertips finding your swollen clit and giving it a gentle pinch. Your hips buck against him at the sudden sensation.
“Wanna feel you too,” you whimper, your arms wrapping around his back. “Want you inside me, please.”
And then he’s tugging his boxers down his legs, his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh. You can’t see—but you can feel just how massive he is. His tip slides through your folds, spreading your arousal.
“You know how bad I need you?” Logan whispers, his lips finding yours. He bites your lower lip and kisses away the pain. “You know how long I’ve been thinking about this?” And then he sinks himself inside you, down to the hilt with one smooth, fluid thrust. “Thought about this every day since I met you.”
Your muscles release and contract at his words. His hips stall, letting you adjust to the size of him. You feel indescribably full. He’s splitting you open, stretching you out, claiming you as his. His hips pull back, his cock sliding out, and he plunges back in, somehow deeper this time.
“Th-thought about you too,” you stutter, already too fucked out to form a coherent thought. “Always wanted you.” Logan sets a reckless pace as his fingertips find your clit again, working long, languid strokes into the bud, teasing you, leading you on.
“You feel so perfect,” Logan praises, rocking into you, his cock dragging along your walls. “So fucking warm, so tight. Made for me.” His lips are on yours again, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting you, swallowing your moans. “Never gonna want anybody else, pretty girl.”
His hips snap against yours, his fingers circling your clit faster now. “Just want you, Lo,” you choke, the tension building at the bottom of your belly, a fire burning through your bones. “Only want you.”
“I know,” he whispers, his voice suddenly soft, contrasting with the way he pounds into you recklessly, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every pump of his cock. “It’s you, just you.” You can hear the emotion in his voice, the sincerity, the desperation, the aching longing.
Your chest heaves against his. He’s fucking you to get closer to you, to be as deep inside you as possible. This isn’t just sex—this isn’t just some tension that needs to be broken. It’s an invisible string keeping the two of you tied closely together. Maybe it was stitched by the Fates centuries ago, laid out carefully, a plan to be executed. Maybe everything that led you to this moment was always meant to be. Because here you are now, his lips soft and hungry against yours, his words tearing through your resolve, his cock buried deep inside you, searching for a way to get deeper. And all you can think is…
This is it. This is what people mean when they talk about love—that word that changes its meaning every time you say it. The word with a definition that always escapes you. You know what it means now.
“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, that fire in your belly spreading through your body as he rams into you, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing along the walls of the tiny room. His fingers press harder into your clit, pinching softly, and then circling again.
His cock twitches inside you. “Me too, beautiful,” he hums, his pace growing sloppier, his cock throbbing again. “You’re so perfect,” he praises. “Love you so much, pretty girl.”
And then the tension snaps, electricity buzzing through your nerve endings, fire prickling your skin as you melt into him. “Love you too, Lo.” Your muscles contract and release, squeezing around him, coming undone.
Your walls clench around him again, and you know it’ll be the thing that pushes him over the edge. “Fuck, wanna come inside you,” he pants.
You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Please,” you beg, and with one more thrust he’s painting your walls, filling you up and letting go.
You share one breath, panting, foreheads pressed together as Logan’s pumps slow, his cock stalling inside you. His fingers slip away from your clit, his arms reaching under your back as he carefully pulls out. You feel empty without him inside you.
“Y-you can stay inside, if you want,” you offer as Logan rolls you onto your side, pulling you into his chest.
He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Is that what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his lips pressing to your nose now.
“Yes,” you whisper. He swallows harshly as one of his hands slides down your body, hiking your leg up and over his hip. He lines his half-hard cock up with your entrance, his lips finding yours as he slides back in. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of being full of him again.
He groans as he bottoms out. “So fucking good,” he praises, his arms wrapping around your back again, tugging you into his chest.
You lay in comfortable silence, listening as Logan’s breathing becomes rhythmic. Your eyes grow heavy, and you bury your face into Logan’s chest. You can hear his heart beating.
“Love you,” he mumbles against the crown of your head. You can hear the sleepiness in his voice, the exhaustion.
“Love you too,” you whisper, your breathing matching his, like you’re no longer two separate people, but one.
He presses a kiss to your head. “So lucky I met you,” he huffs. You smile against him. “So lucky I finally figured it out.”
“Figured what out?” You ask, looking up at him.
He smiles down at you. “What love is supposed to feel like...” He trails off, and you watch as he chooses his next words. “What living is supposed to feel like.”
You can feel tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, and you do your best to blink them away. “Me too, Lo,” you whisper, pausing…
“Me too.”
tags: @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @fanfic-writing-barbie @pedrohoe04 @cosmiccandydreamer @movhoney @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @maniuplatour *as always, I'm so sorry if I forgot to tag you*
#Logan Howlett x reader#Wolverine x reader#James Logan Howlett x reader#Logan Howlett x reader smut#Wolverine x reader smut#James Logan Howlett x reader smut#Logan Howlett smut#Wolverine smut#James Logan Howlett smut#Logan Howlett x you#Wolverine x you#James Logan Howlett x you#Logan Howlett friends to lovers#Logan Howlett x you smut#Wolverine x you smut#James Logan Howlett x you smut#Logan Howlett x reader one bed#Logan Howlett one bed#Logan Howlett x reader friends to lovers#Logan Howlett imagine#Wolverine imagine#James Logan Howlett imagine#X men imagine#Hugh Jackman#Deadpool and Wolverine#Logan Howlett fluff#Logan Howlett x reader fluff
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anniversary event [closed]
kim mingyu x reader
prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”
word count: 5.1k
warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you
synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.
It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.
And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.
[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!
masterlist
The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl.
It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against.
Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel.
You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you.
Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek.
“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel.
All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today.
“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight.
“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?”
“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”
You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day.
“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”
There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job?
Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu.
Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”
You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow.
Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring.
“I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse.
Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers.
“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands.
“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion.
Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?”
“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”
“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet.
“How was Mingyu?”
Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now.
“He was fine.”
“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”
That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher.
“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment.
“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare.
Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”
“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”
Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion.
You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either.
With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention.
You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise.
Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on.
Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you.
[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?
[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((
[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh
[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333
God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him.
Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine.
You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send.
It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer.
He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators.
“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same.
Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait.
The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow.
What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day.
You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire.
“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave.
“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him.
“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning.
“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?”
“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were.
Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance.
You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open.
The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day.
It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting.
“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love.
Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels.
“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”
“Sit down.”
He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command.
It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.
Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint.
He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again.
“What are you—”
“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.”
The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with.
“Right now? Can you at least let me—”
Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse.
His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless.
Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.
That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss.
Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more.
You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.
Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him.
“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly.
It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt.
“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”
Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe.
Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in.
Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions.
“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.
“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”
“What on earth–shit!”
You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly.
The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips.
Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again.
In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing.
When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth.
He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before.
Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself.
“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.”
Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.
In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”
“What?”
“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”
“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words.
In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants.
Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds.
“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”
He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt.
Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now.
Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you.
Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.
“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”
The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.
The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen.
“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”
And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead.
His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly.
“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”
Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.
Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close.
Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you.
He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks.
“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog.
Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs.
It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.
“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”
Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago.
“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”
���That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”
You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”
He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”
It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway.
“Salad bowl girl.”
“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”
“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”
“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”
“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you.
You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry—”
“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”
“So you didn’t like it?”
“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”
“Won what?”
“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.”
You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”
He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.”
Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio.
“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”
Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him.
Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic.
“Oh, you’re evil.”
You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back.
He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”
“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.”
“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes.
You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”
“Are you not having fun?”
“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”
Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”
It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works.
“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”
The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.
“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”
“Go,” you chuckle.
“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.
“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”
“I love you,” he yells.
“I’ll be sure to tell our child.”
“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling.
“Mingyu!”
“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him.
“I thought I was insufferable.”
Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you.
“I think we’re late for our reservation.”
“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.
“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.
A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week.
#🎁gyuswhoreturns1!#svthub#mingyu fluff#mingyu angst#mingyu smut#mingyu fic#mingyu scenarios#mingyu imagines#mingyu x reader#mingyu#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen smut#seventeen fic#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen#svt fluff#svt angst#svt smut#svt x reader#svt#em.writes#seventeen fic recs#mingyu fic recs
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Drove up today and having a total beach day which has been amazing despite the heat. But it’s also giving me soooo many monster thoughts
Imagine you go up to one those boardwalk fortune teller machines and you think, ‘eh, why not. It could be fun.’ And it seems like the machine agrees with you as your jaw drops when you read the fortune. This tiny paper of fate claims that today you will get your world rocked by a creature out of this world.
First of all, how is a fortune like that even in there? Secondly, what the hell kind of fortune is this?! You look into the plastic eyes of the mystic woman and something within you says to believe her. To take this fortune seriously.
Turning to the beach just down the steps your eyes immediately fall onto the Tentacle Monster lifeguard, wondering if he’ll be the one to fulfill your fortune. His long tentacles curled around the high chair and you imagine what it would be like to ride him on top of it. To see the length of the beach while his tentacles reach deep inside you to places you’ve never been able to go.
Or maybe the pack of Wolf Hybrids down the way. Half of them playing volleyball on the beach and the other throwing around a frisbee. You imagine them passing you around, each of them having their turn with you as they fuck into your weeping holes, never letting you rest for even a moment as they cant get enough of feeling your wet heat suffocate their cocks.
A shiver passes through you and you quickly look away before you get ahead of yourself. And when you do your eyes can’t help but be drawn to the ocean.
Mermen popping their head up above the water. Hungrily watching the humans from afar. Your thoughts drift to swimming your way into the ocean and getting sucked under the waves. Before you know it a whole pod of them are swarming you, desperately stuffing their mouths, fingers, and cocks inside of you. Eager for your warmth to surround them and wanting to drown you in pleasure.
Perhaps other merfolk will join them. Shark Hybrids smelling your arousal from afar and using it to hunt you down so that they may feast on your flesh in the most toe curling way. Wanting nothing more than to devour you and make you cum harder than you could ever dream.
As you find yourself stepping toward the ocean, drawn to the temptation of what could be, your foot knocks into a cooler. An apology falls from your lips as you step back, only to see a suspiciously pale man hidden completely under an umbrella. And suddenly you know you won’t find your average drink in that cooler.
Your mind spins up the image of the Vampire man snatching you under his umbrella with inhumane speed. Dragging your body beneath him and ravaging you mercilessly. Preferring to get his blood from the source instead of his cooler. And as his fangs sink deep inside you, so does his cock. Both working to bring you to new heights of ecstasy, your mind growing foggy as he draws blood from you in time with the furious pumps of his hips until you can’t help but cum. Your release making your blood taste that much sweeter.
You quickly snap out of your thoughts, your chest quickly rising and falling with your panting breaths. Arousal gushes out of you, soaking your panties and bringing a wave of heat throughout your body.
You shift uneasily, hoping it isn’t too noticeable. Hoping they can’t smell it. But as each of them slowly turn to look at you, your hope fades away into nothing but more arousal. Not slowing yourself to second guess this, you walk closer to the ocean.
Ready to have the time of your life.
Thoughts anyone??
#monster fucker#monster smut#monster lust#monster fuqqer#monster romance#monster fudger#monster lover#teratophillia#exophelia#monster bf#monster boyfriend#tentacle monster#tentacle nsft#tentacle smut#tentacle fucker#wolf hybrid#werewolf smut#werewolf fucker#werewolf fic#merman#merfolk#merman smut#mershark#shark hybrid#vampire fucker#vampire smut#monster x reader#monster x human#monster x gn reader#monster x y/n
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Love Isn't Enough
Pairing: Dark!Jax Teller x Female Reader
Summary: You love Jax, but not enough to stay.
Word Count: Almost 1.5k
Warnings: Angst, implied dubcon/noncon, attempted breakup, bittersweet ending, Jax Teller (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @writercole requested Jax Teller and a visit Under the Boardwalk (dark) with prompt #38 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You zipped up your bag after you put the last of your clothes inside. You expected a weight in your chest as you looked around the bedroom, but you weren’t upset at all. The place looked lived in, but it wasn’t a home. Charming was no longer your home. You could practically see the smirk on Jax’s face as he said “I told you so” since he suggested for you to leave and settle down somewhere else a long time ago. You didn’t listen then, but you were taking his advice now.
It was time to move on.
“I’m all about that fairy tale, baby.”
While you felt nothing when you packed your bag, your heart ached with each step you took. Jax Teller loved you and you didn’t want to leave him behind, especially when you still loved him, too. Just because the love was there didn’t mean you had support or respect. Not the way the club did. They would have a part of Jax that you would never quite reach and they couldn’t expect you to just fall in line or keep your mouth shut when your man did something dangerous or worse.
“You wanna be an old lady? Act like it. Do what you're told!”
There was something wet on your cheeks when you went to grab your keys. You sniffled as you wiped them with the back of your hand. When did you start crying? How many tears had you shed over the man who promised not to break your heart? It was tiring putting yourself back together and no amount of amazing sex or empty words could fully seal the cracks.
If your relationship taught you anything it was that love wasn’t always enough.
You didn’t regret it though. Life was too short for regrets. You got to experience love and many couldn’t say the same. You weren’t sure if you’d ever meet someone who sparked as much passion within you as Jax had, but you hoped he could defeat his demons without you tethered to him. Both of you could forge your paths and maybe they’d one day merge again.
“I love you, baby.”
“I’m sorry, Jax,” you whispered into the darkness of the living room.
“What are you sorry for?”
The keys fell from your hand as you spun toward the couch, your heart close to beating free from your chest. The flame from Jax’s lighter illuminated his face from where he sat and for a moment he looked like a demon, tortured and beautiful. He flipped on the lamp beside him and took a long drag from his cigarette, his stormy eyes drifting to the suitcase before they went back to you. His normally slicked back hair appeared disheveled as he blew out of a puff of smoke, like he couldn’t stop running his fingers through it.
He still took your breath away whenever you laid your eyes on him.
As much as you wanted to go to him and pull on those strands as you rode him, you wouldn’t. Sex wasn’t going to steer you from your decision. Besides, he used it as a weapon and you didn’t have the strength to clean up your wounds when you walked away.
“I didn’t hear you come home,” you answered.
He tilted his head and took another drag. “You’re sorry that you didn’t hear me come home?”
You swallowed as his gaze went back to your bag. “No, I’m sorry because I’m heading out,” you said, your stomach sinking as the words hung in the air.
Jax continued to smoke and you didn’t dare move as he took his time, the familiar scent of the smoke doing nothing to ease your nerves. You almost wished he yelled or destroyed something instead of stewing in silence. It put you on edge.
“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He finally asked, his voice so quiet you almost missed the question.
“I don’t know yet,” you said, tears springing to your eyes as he put the cigarette in the ashtray and got to his feet. “I just can't stay here.”
“So, you’re not just heading out. You’re going away. You’re leaving me,” he stated, clenching his fists as you moved back. He didn’t sound surprised. Just hurt and angry. Hurting him was the last thing you wanted to do.
“You told me to leave a long time ago. I should’ve left then, but I loved you and I thought that was enough for us,” you explained, a tear sliding down your cheek. You couldn’t back down though. “I still love you and I probably always will, but you’re married to the club. That’s your true love and I’m tired of fighting a losing battle.”
The stricken look he gave you almost made you apologize, but it was too late to turn back. “I’m the President and the club is family, but they aren’t you.”
“Jax-”
“Come here. Now,” he ordered, but there was a familiar gentleness in his gaze that he only showed with those he cared for. It was almost enough to make you cave. “Just sit and talk to me. We can figure this out.”
You slowly shook your head. “There isn't anything to figure out.”
“So, that’s it then? You're leaving?” He asked, raking a hand through his hair. “How many times do I have to prove to you that I love you? But no, it’s never good enough for you, is it? Love isn’t enough?” He scoffed when you shook your head again. “That’s bullshit. I need you and you need me, so don’t just-”
“That’s just it, Jax! I don’t need you!” You snapped. Both of your eyes went wide and you weren’t sure which one of you was more stunned by the statement. “When I did need you, you weren’t there. The club always has and always will come first. My eyes are finally open to that.”
“Baby…” he breathed out, his shoulders falling when you held up a hand.
“I love you. I do,” you promised. God, you loved him so much it fucking hurt. The pain had to end at some point. “But I don’t need you or this life. Not anymore. I’m done.”
You needed to say the words, so why did they feel hollow?
Jax snapped himself out of whatever shock he was in before he stomped toward you. With a gasp, you backed yourself against the wall. He never raised a hand toward you, but you had seen that fire in his eyes before. Anyone in his path ended up destroyed by that fury. Would he leave you on the ground in a pile of ash?
“You aren’t leaving me. We aren’t done,” He grabbed your chin, his grip tender when he could’ve crushed you. He pointed toward the bedroom, but kept his eyes on you so you knew how serious he was. “So unpack that bag and get it in our fucking bed.”
You searched his gaze, trying to find a trace of the man you loved instead of the stranger in front of you. “You can’t make me stay.”
He crushed his lips against yours, drawing a whimper from you. This wasn’t the kind of passion he typically showed you. This was a form of control. Like the club, he wanted you to bend to his will. Make you submit. Could you do that?
Was it safer or cowardly to give in?
It didn’t hurt so much when you opened your mouth to him and let him take over. The dull ache between your thighs would fade quicker than the cut to your heart. A betrayal of a moan escaped as his tongue dueled with yours. It didn��t take him long at all to win that battle. Jax would always win.
Was it worth fighting even if you lost? Yes. At least that way you could say even if you didn't win that you tried.
You couldn’t take a breath even when his mouth left yours. His lips left a blazing trail toward your ear, but it left you cold instead of warm. “Yes, I fucking can,” he snarled, your legs shaking as he pulled you away from the wall. “Tell me the club means more to me when I’m inside you. See if you can leave me when I’m fucking you into our mattress and showing you how much I love you.”
“Jax, please,” you begged, trying to pull free from his hold as he dragged you to the bedroom. He wouldn’t force you to sleep with him, would he?
“Beg all you want, baby. I won’t stop ‘til you know your place is here with me.”
Was this why Jax told you to leave a long time ago? To save you from the man he had become? It didn’t matter. It was too late to escape.
And maybe, in his own twisted way, he’d prove that love would be enough this time around.
I hope I did this justice! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writers#jax teller x reader#jax teller x female reader#jax teller x you#jax teller x y/n#jax teller#jax teller fanfiction#jax teller fic#jax teller imagine#dark!jax teller#dark!jax teller x reader#x reader#charlie hunnam#charlie hunnam characters#navy's beach fun nonsense
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kickstart my heart.
REQUEST SUBMITTED BY @darklylucid
“Paul’s always been flirty, and you’ve never really taken it seriously. After a minor incident on the boardwalk, Paul decides that he’ll make you take him seriously, one way or another.”
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | paul (the lost boys) x fem!reader.
𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 6.8K.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, jealous!paul, paul is really flirty/touchy, oral sex (f!receiving), spit as lube, choking (m!receiving), hair-pulling, paul is definitely a mess, dirty talk, pet names (baby, girl, sweet girl), cowgirl, vaginal sex, scratching, biting, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breastplay (paul loves your tits), fingering, clothes ripping, groping, nasty sex, manhandling, paul isn’t gentle
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | i’m back and literally going insane for the lost boys ,,, thank you to @darklylucid for requesting this !!! first time writing Paul and it was so, so much fun! dwayne is up next, so prepare yourselves for that! also working on a poly!lost boys x reader series ,,, so yeah!
A cloudless dusk fell over Santa Carla, sky littered with millions of stars that hung above, providing a rather attractive backdrop to a less-than-savory town. The boardwalk was more alive than ever — it transformed with nightfall, becoming a den of depravity and mystique, coupled with the liveliness of families and the carnival atmosphere.
You were situated atop a blanket, feet partially buried within the cool sand as you sat on the beach. A concert took place many feet away as you watched people clamor from the staircase to the growing crowd. The rancor of music reverberated throughout the air, accompanied by the cheering and applause from onlookers.
Saltwater lapped at the gray shoreline, moon hanging overhead to light the way. You always came to the boardwalk at night — you made plenty of friends, but you happened to have a peculiar bond with a pack of vampires. It wasn’t intentional — you never meant to befriend them like you had, but you didn’t regret a thing.
The familiar roar of motorbikes resonated in the near-distance, splitting past swarms of carnival-goers as they descended the steps. It never took very long for them to find you, bearing down upon you like a pack of hyenas.
Marko’s laughter filled the air as he and Dwayne pulled up along the terrace above you, parking their bikes next to the length of black grating. David and Paul followed suit, hauling Star and Laddie in-tow. You were more focused on the gleam of the moonlight hitting the water and the seashell you’d been turning over within your palm.
A thump resonated from your left side, and you nearly shrieked, jumping from your own flesh as Paul landed atop the blanket. He scooped a finger against your chin, plump lips pulled back to reveal his pearlescent smirk. A faint aroma of stale cologne and hints of marijuana clung to him, but that was commonplace.
“Hey baby,” Paul crooned, kicking one leg up against his chest as the rest of the boys lingered around the balcony, save for Marko. He descended from above like a cat leaping toward perch, landing in the sand with grace. His presence was intentional, solely to agitate Paul. “Where’ve you been?”
Paul’s constant flirtation was something that you were used to — painfully so. You always wrote it off as something casual, a facet deeply ingrained into his wild and spontaneous personality. Paul often flirted with anyone that had a pulse and smelled appeasing, and that included you. It was fun to watch, but sometimes you wished that he meant it.
With a huff, you attempted to swat his hand away, but he was swift, arm resting atop his propped knee as he idly bounced his head to the music. “I’ve been here,” You mused, offering a kind greeting to Marko. “Where else am I supposed to be?” You inquired, tracing the pad of your thumb over the seashell’s ridges.
Paul’s nose wrinkled slightly. “I can think of a few places,” He mused, plucking at the top of your blouse. “You gonna come down tonight?” He asked, referring to you joining them in the cave. You normally went there with the group if they were satiated and fed. You were still human, after all — being in a nest full of vampires probably wasn’t the safest or smartest idea.
“Maybe,” You shrugged, feeling Paul perch his chin atop your shoulder. The physical aspect of his flirting always made your heart race, thrumming just underneath your collarbone. Your gaze flickered toward him, brows furrowing together. “What?”
“Please?” Paul insisted, lips twitching into a Cheshire smirk, teeth and all. “Wanna hang out with you.” Of all the pack, you were closest to Paul, but sometimes, you didn’t want to be. His constant touching and lascivious nature often left you wistful and confused, aching for something that he couldn’t give you.
“Don’t listen to him,” Marko interjected, busy ogling a wandering group of beachgoers — a gaggle of younger women hanging off of the arms of burly men. It smelled like potential dinner for him. “He found a guitar.” That was all you needed to know.
A giggle escaped you as Paul threw a handful of sand toward Marko, which happened to land against his patchwork jacket and golden curls. His visage contorted into a sour expression, glaring daggers at Paul before he stood up, shaking all of it out in the process.
“You found a guitar?” You asked, watching as Paul pushed your legs flat against the blanket, allowing him to rest his head within your lap. Admittedly, your heartbeat betrayed you — you wanted to be annoyed by the gesture, but instead, you let it go.
To Paul, you smelled outrageously wonderful — better than anything he’d had before. It was an amalgamation of softer, floral perfumes coupled with whatever wash you used. He detected peach and vanilla, sweeter aromas that clung to you like a pleasant haze.
His hair was akin to that of a lion’s mane, viciously unruly as it flew around him like a halo. “Yeah,” Paul replied, somewhat distracted by your scent. “Y’know, I didn’t find it. I stole it from these amateurs up by the empty lot.” Yoo assumed that these ‘amateurs’ were no longer alive, either.
“Aren’t you considered an amateur too, Paul?” You mused, reclining back upon your hands, letting yourself sink into the soft, white sand. As you glanced down toward your lap, Paul was staring at you for what felt like an eternity, and you couldn’t discern if it was out of offense or something else.
“You’re gorgeous,” Paul mumbled, tracing one of his ring-adorned digits over the expanse of your clothed stomach. “Lookin’ good enough to eat.” He mused, and while you would’ve initially brushed off that comment, he said it with a peculiar warmth.
Goosebumps erupted along the column of your spine, causing you to shift slightly. His finger didn’t stop moving, flicking around the ruffled cotton. He wished that it was your flesh — warm and soft, waiting to invite him in. You never took any of his flirtation to heart — in truth, it might’ve been his fault, but he wanted to make you see.
You belonged to him.
With a soft exhale, you attempted to mask your shudder of delight, absentmindedly nibbling along your lower lip. “Very original,” You uttered, twisting away from his touch as if it would incinerate you. It was all meaningless — mindless sweet nothings spoken from a very precocious individual. “You’re a genius.” You teased, voice becoming slightly sardonic.
“You are,” He insisted, comfortable within your plush lap. Your scent did little to ease his feelings, overwhelming him like a thick haze. “Baby, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in ages. Where’ve you been all my life?” Paul sighed, and he didn’t attempt to touch you again out of respect.
“Right,” You uttered, masking your growing agitation. Paul could have anyone he wanted — and he always did. Girls at the boardwalk swooned over him, they were always easy prey, and he indulged himself plenty of times. You were nothing more than a friend, you weren’t desirable, nor would he ever want you. “You’ve told me that before.”
Paul visibly deflated, withering away like a shriveling flower — you really weren’t convinced.
Unfortunately for Paul, you were blissfully oblivious to any of his advances, but then again, he could understand why you were skeptical. Flirtation was a natural instinct for him. While he kept his head in your lap, he shamelessly opted to rove through your thoughts. It was cheating, sure, but he was itching to know.
“Paul,” Dwayne’s voice cut through his state of contemplation, rousing the sandy-haired blonde from his stupor. Paul’s head lifted off of your lap, hastily sitting upright as he glanced up at the terrace. “We’re going for a ride.” He briefly nodded towards you as a form of greeting, swinging Laddie up onto his bike.
“You’re coming, right?” Paul asked, voice invigorated with a sense of giddiness and excitement. He got a little wild around you sometimes, but it wasn’t anything that you weren’t accustomed to by now. “Do I have to beg you or something?” He groaned, trapping you between his arms.
“You’re pathetic!” Marko snickered, jumping down to snatch you up. Even though he was the smallest of the pack, his strength was often unrivaled, save for Dwayne. You let out a startled gasp as Marko hoisted you up over his shoulder, heckling Paul in the process.
Paul bristled with anger — typically, he could excuse Marko’s antics, but not this time. A white-hot rage blistered through him, crawling across his flesh as he attempted to shake that gold away from his eyes. A snarl escaped him, and he made sure to grab your stuff as a courtesy, leaping up over the bannister.
By the time Paul had landed on the rickety wood of the boardwalk, Marko had placed you on solid ground, unable to bite back the impish smirk on his features. He was deliberately getting under Paul’s skin, and he knew it — knew all about his feelings for you, too. Perhaps that’s what made it all the more enjoyable.
Like a bat out of hell, Paul swarmed the curly-headed blonde with a vengeance, countenance contorted into a look of sheer irritation and borderline rage. “You’re dead, Marko!” He growled, lip curled in disdain.
“Sorry, Paul. You made it too easy,” Marko mused, narrowly missing a rather unsavory blow from Paul, who yanked at his jacket instead. “Jesus! Easy, I was only messing around!” He snapped, with the two bickering and locked in what was supposedly a heated argument.
“Paul,” You gently tugged on his coat, attempting to steer him away from potential violence. “It’s okay, he was just playing around.” A soft sigh escaped you as you played mediator for two vampires, brows knitting together as Paul stepped back with a huff of irritation.
“Enough.” David barked, glaring daggers as he glanced between Paul and Marko. The last thing that he wanted was for them to expose themselves on the boardwalk — it was bound to happen if they didn’t stop the horseplay. With a visible frown, he revved his motorbike, signaling for the others to fall in line.
Jealousy was an ugly thing — unpleasant, often festering inside of oneself until it rotted away at their very core. It didn’t suit Paul whatsoever. He suffered from a bout of such a potent disease, despising the way Marko had touched you, held you over his shoulder. He was usually open about sharing with his brothers, but not you — you were completely off-limits.
Wordlessly, Paul sulked towards his motorbike, sitting down with a begrudging huff. You felt inclined to follow, standing beside him with an empathetic expression. “Are you going to let me on? We’re still hanging out, remember?” You asked, voice softening an octave.
Paul felt a little better — but not completely. His ego was momentarily maimed by Marko’s antics, but it was a wound that would dissipate with time. Fortunately, you were a worthy cure as he moved forward, letting you on the back of his bike. “Saved your stuff, too.” He mused, feeling you squeeze your arms around his midsection.
“You’re my hero,” You chuckled, trying to make him feel less agitated. “Thanks.” With Paul recovering from the scuffle, David motioned for the rest of the conclave to follow, whipping his bike around onto the stretch of the boardwalk that led out onto the shoreline.
You remembered the first time Paul took you for a ride — and you very nearly had a heart attack. He drove as if it’d be his last day on earth, but you’d gotten so used to it that you stopped being a backseat driver and let him do whatever he wanted.
He was talkative and boisterous by-nature, which is why you became so concerned when he didn’t talk to you very much on the ride to the cave. Paul was normally extremely egregious and outgoing, something that you loved about him, but his bout of silence was making you nervous. You wondered if Marko had wounded his pride that badly.
As you pulled up to the cave, the boys hopped off of their motorbikes, and even Paul didn’t really wait up for you this time — something was wrong. Marko noticed, lingering at the fringes of the cavern as he glanced at you, promptly disappearing down the rocky incline. You were left to make your way inside alone, no Paul at your side or helping you down.
Once inside, you felt awkward, more than usual. Being the lone human in a nest full of vampires would always bring a little tension, but without Paul around, you felt hollow and unnerved. David regarded you with his typical stare — cynical and somewhat indifferent, and Dwayne was always solemn, much warmer than the other.
“Where did Paul go?” You asked, and it was Laddie who pointed you in the right direction, pointing toward one of the rocky tunnels that led off into their ‘rooms’, of sorts. You often referred to them as the metaphorical coffins, but Star found it to be in poor taste.
With a shaky exhale, you nodded. “Thanks.” You’d been in Paul’s ‘room’ plenty of times before, but he rarely disappeared and left you to fend for yourself. With the coordination of a baby deer who’d just learned how to take their first steps, you clamored up the uneven terrain, holding onto the rope to guide yourself up.
When you found Paul, he was lazily strumming on a guitar — the one he’d ‘found’. He had one leg kicked up, propped against the rock, the other tucked towards his chest as he played a few chords. The lack of acknowledgement sent off several red flags as you swept aside the makeshift ‘door’ — an old, velvet curtain repurposed from the hotel wreckage.
“Thanks for waiting on me,” You uttered, tone dripping with sarcasm, which captured his attention. He smelled you long before you’d entered, prompting him to turn his head, lion’s mane of hair disheveled and tousled from being pressed against a pillow. “You know, if I knew you were going to sulk around this whole time, I would’ve gone to the comic store instead.”
Paul scoffed, countenance twisting into a look of agitation, which was so unlike him. It shocked you to see him behave with such indifference, something that went against the grain of his character. “Maybe Marko can go with you.” He uttered, playing another melancholy chord on the guitar.
That’s what this was about?
“You’re not serious,” You quipped, folding your arms across your chest. “Is this about what happened at the beach? Paul, I’m not a mind-reader — I didn’t know Marko was going to do that.” He was beginning to really piss you off, which hadn’t happened yet.
For all of the meaningless flirting he’d done, the constant teasing and toying, you were vigilant. You’d tried to keep your chin up through it all. You couldn’t fathom why he was so upset about Marko’s harmless stunt — it was all playful. It was something Paul would’ve done, truth be told. Paul kept quiet, reading your mind as he surveyed your rageful inner monologue.
Instead, you were met with a wall of silence, and that made you frustrated. If Paul was going to behave like a child, you’d treat him like one. With a huff of annoyance, you waved your hand in dismissal. Your night was mostly ruined, but you figured you’d go home and try to get some sleep.
You gave him another chance to talk — it was quiet. “Fine. I’m going home, Paul.” You sighed, turning around as you prepared to make the climb back down. With a shrug of your shoulders, you barely passed through the curtain before something rustled behind you.
Just as you grabbed the rope, Paul was in front of you with inhuman speed, and he immediately snatched at your hips, dragging you away. You were protesting, interrogating him about what exactly was going on, but he persisted, locking you in his arms as he pushed you up against the wall.
“I don’t want Marko touching you,” He murmured, brows knitting together. “I want you all to myself.” You couldn’t tell if this was playful Paul trying to flirt with you again — his tone sounded so different. “You’re mine, baby.” Paul clicked his tongue, brazenly groping at your waist.
“Wh— What?” Disbelief seeped into your voice as you shook your head back and forth. “Are you fucking with me again?” Before you could get in another word, his mouth was devouring yours, vigorous and completely needy. Jesus, he tasted good — without pause, your hands flew to grab his hair in fistfuls.
A desperate whimper erupted from your mouth, buried and lost within his ravenous kiss. You needed to know what had gotten into him — why now? You began to yank on his hair in an attempt to get him to cease, and when he did, you appeared more agitated than happy. Paul normally didn’t get this reaction when he kissed someone.
“You have to tell me what’s going on,” You huffed, gaze practically pleading with him as he held you close, inhaling another gust of your saccharine scent. “First you’re flirting, then you’re mad, and now this. What’s gotten into you?” With a pointed stare, Paul relented, but he didn’t move away from you.
“You don’t take my flirting seriously,” He countered, brows furrowing together. “You don’t want to? Fine, but I’m gonna make you see how bad I want you.” Paul murmured, voice husky and alluring enough to make your knees wobble. He licked his lower lip, one hand beginning to drift underneath your blouse.
This didn’t feel real — whenever you desperately tried to search for even an ounce of playfulness, there wasn’t any. Paul was completely serious about this, and it made you weak, warmth beginning to pool between your thighs as you nodded several times over. “Okay,” You breathed, itching for more. “Then don’t stop.”
“M’gonna fuck you,” Paul smirked, eyes unnaturally bright as they glistened in the dimly-lit alcove. “You mind if I eat you out, too?” He asked, matter-of-factly. His unruly tangle of dusty-blonde tresses were stiff with age-old product, making it somewhat coarse whenever you went to grab and pull on it.
Did you mind? Laughter bubbled within your chest as your lips parted, expression incredulous as you nodded several times over. “Whatever you want,” He was gorgeous — in that crazed and unhinged sort of way. Paul stared at you as if you were both a delicious slab of meat and the most beautiful thing he’d seen. “I want you.” You exhaled.
That was all it took for Paul to claw at your clothing as if it were nothing, fingers excitedly ruffling your blouse as he yanked it up, causing you to squeak. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t care whatsoever. Those veined, dexterous hands ripped your blouse off of you, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.
He was pushing you towards his bed, which was only really used for salacious activities, and nothing more. It was a colossal mess, the scent stale and reminded you of damp rock as he got you on your back, crawling on top of you with a devilish grin.
“Fuck, baby,” Paul sighed, slicing your brassiere off with a simple stroke of his fingers, flinging the tattered remains elsewhere. “You’ve got such a gorgeous body.” He murmured, lips sloppily trailing over your neck and collarbone as he rucked your skirt up towards your hips. Your mewls and whimpers were like music to his ears.
“Paul,” You groaned, hips rocking forward as you ground yourself against him, meeting his groin. His jean-clad erection pressed into your thigh, completely and utterly shameless. He kissed wherever he pleased, stopping to admire your breasts as they rose and fell with your excitable gasps.
Trapping a nipple within his mouth, he greedily sucked and nibbled at your swollen mound, intermingling such ministrations with eager strokes of his tongue. “Pretty tits, too.” He guffawed, playfully biting at your breast as you clutched onto his hair. “S’all mine.” Paul huffed, kneading into your pliant chest with his other hand.
A pang of arousal coursed throughout your body, striking right between your thighs. Warmth coalesced between your legs, manifesting as a stickiness that oozed from your cunt. Paul nearly growled at the smell, which was calling to him like a siren’s song. He was tempted to rip away and go right to the source, but he loved your chest just as much.
Suckling on your breast, Paul promptly provided such attention to the other, greedily biting at the soft, pliant flesh. The way you bucked and squirmed underneath him was all the more enticing, cerulean hues fluttering toward your blissed-out countenance. You tugged on his hair, causing him to let out a satisfied hiss.
“Could stay here forever,” Paul mused, pressing messy kisses atop your perky tits, and he seemed to get a little ahead of himself in the moment. Kisses soon devolved into love-bites and sucking as he found a patch of skin between your breasts. He left a string of hickeys there, beyond content with his handiwork. “Perfect.”
“Jesus,” You groaned, a mess of moans and desperate, pathetic whimpers as you wrangled with his lion-like mane of hair. “You’re bad.” With a soft hiccup, you felt his hands knead into your hips, prepared to go elsewhere if you let him.
“I can be worse, baby.” Paul prompted, eyes swarming with that familiar golden glow, ringed with a red halo around the edge of his irises. He growled, capturing your mouth with his as he kissed you, ravenous and swift as he began to make out with you. He was between your legs, arms locked on either side of you.
With a wanton moan, your hands clamored from his tresses toward his coat, wanting him to shed a few layers, too. It was only fair. Paul complied, whipping his dark coat off with an excitable haste, peeling away the mesh shirt he wore underneath. Your palms splayed out across his broad shoulders, warm flesh melding with his icy temperature.
He was well-muscled, poised — he reminded you of a coiled jungle cat, prepared to pounce. You reveled in the smattering of hair peppered across his chiseled chest, leading toward the sandy-hued happy trail that slipped underneath his tattered white jeans. His teeth brazenly bit at your lower lip, blood oozing onto his tongue.
Between the clash of lips, tongue, and teeth, Paul shuddered, lapping up any pearl of crimson that he could, hands tearing your skirt asunder. The unfortunate remains of fabric were yanked away as he let it fall to the floor, groping and kneading into you, wherever his hands took him.
You’d never been kissed like this — as if he threatened to steal every wisp of air from your lungs, hungering for you in every imaginable way. Your heart hammered against your collarbone, thrumming erratically as you hitched a leg around his hips, drawing him closer as he kept you locked in a barrage of kisses.
“Fuck,” Paul groaned, licking at your lower lip. “You smell so good, baby. I wanna taste,” He insisted, ring-adorned digits curling into the waistband of your panties. He wrestled them down until they were hitched around your knees, but he simply tore at them like the rest of your clothes. “Spread your legs for me.”
It was your turn to go sheepish on him, deliberately parting your legs at a sluggish pace. You weren’t sure as to why you’d become shy, but Paul didn’t seem to care, swiping at a tendril of drool that pooled at the corner of his mouth. Without missing a beat, his hand slipped between your legs, two digits swiping up along your wet cunt.
He gathered your slick, placing his fingers into his mouth with a satisfactory groan. The sight of him sucking your arousal away nearly made you melt. “Almost as good as your blood, sweet girl.” Paul chuckled, absentmindedly licking his lower lip as he settled onto the mattress, pressed flat atop the surface as he gathered your legs into each of his hands.
Paul slathered several kisses against your inner thighs, but he kept it short and sweet — he was here for one thing. You expected him to give you some sort of warning beforehand. “Paul, are you — O-Oh. Jesus Christ!” You squeaked, a strangled gasp escaping you as your back arched off of the mattress.
There was no pause or waiting — Paul’s impulsivity got the best of him. He was on you like a starving animal, desperate for anything he could get. His tongue pushed past your slick folds, silkily lapping over the length of your slit, savoring your taste. It was hot — you felt as if everything were set ablaze as a pleasant heat crawled across you, from head to toe.
His tongue raked hot embers across your aching cunt, body electrified by his touch. Paul’s fingers greedily dug into your pliant thighs, tossing either of your legs over his freckled shoulders as he lapped at your sweet core. His actions were swift and fueled by lust, driven by instinct as he jerked you forward.
Your stomach churned with anticipation, bleeding heat from between your legs as your thighs squeezed at his head. You felt that immense mane of hair tickle your soft flesh, goosebumps erupting along your body. Paul grunted, face buried deep within your cunt as he ate you out, messy and sloppy as could be.
“M’not Jesus,” Paul slurred, grinning like a shark as he nipped at your leg. “You taste so good, baby.” He huffed, the words spoken through the husked voice of a ravenous vampire as he returned to lapping at your poor, needy slit. Each drop of nectar that you provided to him served to momentarily dull the ache within his throat.
You kept writhing and squirming, shamelessly bucking your hips forward. He pinned you down with one hand, head spinning as your scent wafted around him like an inescapable haze. “Paul!” You mewled, practically quivering like a leaf as your cunt pathetically clenched around nothing at all.
Paul was a good sport, able to flow with the constant jolting of your hips into his mouth. Though, it only served to fuel the fire as he continued to hastily drag his tongue along your cunt, slavering for your taste. You moaned, tapering off into a myriad of sweet whimpers as your hands relocated, reaching for his hair.
The cool metal of his rings left imprints behind atop your thighs, various patterns pressed into your flesh. You were aching, body feeling feverishly hot as you bucked into his face again, feeling him clamp down on you as he held you still. His mouth was divine — it was sloppy and full of an unrestrained need.
As your digits twined into his hair, you began to pull and tug, using his unruly tresses as an anchor. Paul didn’t care in the slightest — he found it unbelievably hot as you jerked and tugged, back arched into his ministrations. He only stopped to spit a wad of saliva onto your swollen slit, body shaking with sly laughter when you gasped.
“Makin’ sure you’re ready for me.” Paul teased, but it was under false pretenses — he just wanted to spit on your cunt. He didn’t hesitate, diving back in for more, assaulting your clit with a barrage of kitten-licks and gentle suckling, enough for you to sputter.
With every movement you made, Paul would simply coax you back onto his tongue with inhuman strength, lips pursing around your clit as he began to suck and toy with the sensitive bud. Your hand grappled with his coarse tresses, the other digging into his shoulder. Your nails sank into his flesh, and Paul didn’t care whatsoever.
Arousal pooled between your legs, leaving behind a sticky mess that he was all too eager to clean up. It was only when he began to use that tiny edge of teeth that you were soaring, choking on a whimper as it bubbled within the back of your throat.
Your body was screaming for release, orgasm beginning to mount and build as white-hot tension flew through you, consuming you like a tidal wave. Paul could sense it, burying himself in your pretty cunt as if it would be the last meal he’d ever have.
He switched between the eager, broad lapping of his tongue with sucking on your clit, making you claw at his shoulder blade. One hand repositioned itself, splayed out across your pelvis as his thumb slipped to the hood of your cunt, playing with your clit as the rest of his mouth lapped elsewhere.
“Paul, Paul,” Paul. It was the only word that rolled from your tongue, doing very little to mask the sound of your pleasure. With a wanton moan, you felt that hot coil of tension within your stomach begin to unfurl as you steadily reached your climax. You were suffocating him between your legs — conveniently, he didn’t need to breathe. “Fuck, Paul! M’close!”
“Cum for me,” His encouragement was all that you needed, that little push forward as he backed off, peppering kisses against your clit as you came. It was blinding, and you swore you saw stars. “That’s it,” Paul crooned, moving to clean you up. “Atta girl, baby.” He did very little to mask his eagerness in lapping up the remnants of your orgasm.
He wiped at his lips with the back of his hand, kissing his way up your body until his mouth connected with yours. You could taste yourself and the somewhat bitter twang of copper within his saliva as you let your tongue slip into his mouth. Paul groaned, grabbing at your haunches as he moved to lay beside you.
“Are you tired?” You mused, your own chest heaving with exhilarated sighs as Paul effortlessly wrangled you closer, eyes glittering with desire. You were wrong to ask that question as he raised his eyebrows.
“What kinda question is that, baby? You’re getting on top,” Paul smirked, gesturing toward his lap. His erection was practically itching for release, straining against the front of his white jeans. “You’re going for a ride.” He purred, snatching at your hips as he hoisted you on top of his lap, letting you get comfortable.
Paul lounged against the mountain of pillows beneath him, hands splayed out atop your waist. You savored the sensation of his rings biting into your flesh, and you immediately scrambled to unzip his pants, wrestling with his belt as you freed his cock. His hardened length fell against your stomach, tip oozing with a bead of precum.
You shivered, gazing down at your vampiric paramour, who stared at you with those vibrant, cerulean hues — as clear as a summer’s day. Paul tilted forward, lips reaching for yours as he planted a rather lazy, messy kiss against your mouth. “M’ready.” You murmured, feeling him lift you up as if you weighed nothing at all.
With bated breath, you felt your insides turn to mush, reigniting the spark of lust as Paul let you sink onto his cock. A fire burned bright within your belly, demanding to be extinguished as Paul’s head fell back slightly, letting out a series of groans and softer grunts. “Fuck,” He growled, feeling your palms rest against his abdomen. “You’re so fucking tight, babe.”
Liquid heat festered within the pit of your stomach as you gasped, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted yourself. “Paul!” You moaned, attempting to stifle the many noises you made with the back of your palm, but he quickly swatted your hand away. He was bigger than you thought he’d be — a pleasant surprise.
“Wanna hear you scream my name.” Paul huffed, rubbing circles into your hips as he began to move you. Superhuman strength and stamina certainly had roles to play in this as he guided you up and down in short, rhythmic movements. You liked that he manhandled you a little bit, one hand on your waist as the other grabbed at your chest.
A simpering moan left you as he guided you up his cock, stopping halfway before easing you back down again. Lewd noises reverberated throughout the alcove, accompanied by your sweet whimpers and his grunts and groans. You were barely given time to get used to his pattern before he was bucking up into you with the indomitable strength of a god.
There was no opportunity for you to catch your breath, watching as Paul snatched your wrists, redirecting them towards his pretty neck. That surprised you, but you didn’t protest, feeling the taut muscle tense underneath your palms, jugular bobbing as you began to squeeze.
He moaned.
Unable to bite back the smile that stretched across your features, you held onto his neck, digits flexing and tensing as you continued to apply pressure. Paul’s head fell backwards just a little bit, steadying you with one hand as he fucked into you at an erratic pace. Flesh clashed against flesh, causing you to whimper as you rolled up and down along his cock.
“You like that?” You whispered through a string of blissful whines, gaze bright with desire as he nodded several times over. “Your cock feels so good, Paul.” You huffed, teeth snagging across your lower lip as you began to let your thumbs trace along his perfect jawline. His weeks-old stubble scratched at your silken flesh.
“Little harder, girl,” Paul encouraged, wanting you to really wrangle his throat. He didn’t need to breathe anyway — that made it all the more enjoyable. He savored your hesitation — his sweet little human, afraid of harming the big, bad vampire. He smirked, lifting his eyebrows. “C’mon baby, squeeze.”
Fuck — he was going to be the death of you. Your cunt clenched and throbbed around his cock, with Paul continuing to jackhammer into you like a wild animal. Grunts and excitable groans left him in droves, rippling through his chest as you squeezed at his throat. The muscles were thick and tense underneath your small palms, slick with perspiration.
Your flesh felt dewy, especially within the oppressive heat of the cave. Paul was unstoppable, a force of nature as his hips continued to buck up, cock slamming into your poor, tight cunt. He wasn’t gentle, and he showed no signs of stopping. Delivering a sharp smack to your ass, he fillee you to the brim with his length, causing you to really grip his throat.
With a needy whimper, your eyes fluttered shut, lips parted in a state of ecstasy. “Paul,” You moaned, feeling his hand greedily knead into your chest, twisting your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The stimulation was intensified tenfold, making your brain go fuzzy as he fucked you into a stupor. “Holy shit!”
The alcove smelled of sex — sloppy rutting that was steadily devolving into a complete mess. Paul’s precum was slathered across your inner thighs, coupled with the slick remnants of your first orgasm and current state of arousal. He stopped his erratic thrusting, sitting up a little more with one hand on your hips.
Without warning, his mouth went straight to your chest again, lips attaching themselves around one of your swollen nipples. He was sucking, grabbing a handful of your ass as he led you up and down along his cock. The warmth of your flesh intermingled with his cool, icy skin, only serving to make you sweat.
“Touch me,” You whimpered, palms still clinging to either side of his throat, nails digging in toward the nape of his neck. The sex was incredible — you’d never been fucked like this before, but he had you chasing after every sensation. “Paul, please.” Heat crawled across your flesh, leaving you drunk with desire.
Paul playfully scraped his teeth across your breast, teasing your nipple. “M’touching you already, baby.” He mumbled, propping himself up with his other hand. A simpering groan escaped you as you rocked forward, taking one hand off of his throat to play with your clit.
An impish snarl left his mouth as he snatched at your wrist, and in one erratic movement, had you pinned down on your back. His cock throbbed inside of you, desperate for a release just as much as you were. Paul cackled, lips twitching into a sneer as he began to fuck you, enough for the foundation of the mattress to rattle underneath.
“That was bad,” Paul purred, fucking you down into the plush surface, nearly pulling his cock out of your slick cunt before slamming right back in, repeating the movement over and over again. Fortunately, he was feeling generous, slipping one hand between your bodies as he found the cleft between your thighs. “Fuck, you’re soaked.” He groaned.
You clutched onto him for dear life, body responding vehemently to Paul’s erratic thrusts and uneven, primal tempo. With a loud, wanton cry, your mouth clamored to find his lips, meeting in a rather noisy clash of teeth and tongue. He circled your clit with his thumb, rutting into you with a fervor.
“Paul!” You whined, locking a leg around his hips as your nails sank into his shoulders, leaving behind angry-red impressions, embedded within his flesh. Paul encouraged your scratching, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth. A white-hot ecstasy consumed you whole, causing you to shudder and spasm.
“Can’t hear you, baby.” Paul teased, biting at your lower lip as he peppered kisses wherever he could — greedy, wet kisses that ended up being vibrantly-colored hickeys. Your flesh was his canvas as he marked you up wherever he pleased, hyperfocused on your chest again. “You close?” He huffed, fingers tearing into the sheets.
It was exhilarating — you swore you saw stars, perhaps more as he fucked you within an inch of your life. You didn’t want him to be careful. You didn’t want him to treat you like glass — you wanted to belong to him. “M’close,” Another string of sweet, noisy moans escaped you as Paul brazenly bit at your left breast, leaving behind a crescent-shaped mark. “Close.”
Rivulets of crimson trickled across your skin, prompting Paul to lick it all away, irises shifting from cerulean to a burnished gold. It made the sex more intense as he pounded away at your poor cunt, which had certainly been pushed to the limit. He was becoming a little squirrelly, panting and growling into your ear.
Paul kissed you to distract himself from the temptation of feeding, lost within the saccharine bliss of your mouth as he felt you cum around his cock. “Yeah, baby. Go ‘head and cum for me, just like that.” He mumbled against your mouth, tongue lazily sweeping across your lower lip as he tensed and thrust forward.
He came right afterwards, reveling in the sight of you trembling and quivering, juices coating his length as he pulled out halfway through. It was messy and rather disgusting, but you didn’t care. Ropes of hot, white seed painted your stomach and breasts, which was some sort of fantasy for him.
You sighed, barely able to string a sentence together as you fell back against the mattress, coated in perspiration and his cum. “Jesus.” You uttered, pressing a palm over your face as Paul rolled over to lay next to you. Your legs twitched and spasmed as you came down from your climax, feeling something soft fall across your abdomen.
It was a rather unappealing-looking towel that seemed much too ancient, and you wondered how many times this had been used to clean up his mess. With a huff of laughter, you cleaned yourself up, feeling his arms tangle around you, urging you to come back to him.
“Makes you wish you’d taken me seriously sooner, huh?” Paul mumbled, nibbling along the shell of your ear. You couldn’t help but feel smitten afterwards, twisting over until you faced your vampiric paramour, who had the expression of the Cheshire Cat.
“You’re ridiculous,” You mused, holding his face between your palms. “You’re gorgeous, too.” A peculiar softness crept into your voice, prompting Paul to shower you in a cascade of needy kisses. He liked to be close, which you didn’t necessarily mind, despite the newfound scent of post-sex that permeated the alcove.
“I’m all yours, baby.” Paul smirked, shamelessly staring at your breasts without an ounce of subtlety. You couldn’t read his thoughts, but you suspected that he had something particular in-mind. “You’re in for a long night.” He purred, and before you could open your mouth to speak, he was crawling on top of you.
You would have to thank Marko later.
#slasher x reader#the lost boys x reader#the lost boys x you#slasher x you#slasher fanfiction#the lost boys#tlb 1987#paul tlb x reader#paul tlb x you#slasher fanfic#slasher fandom#the lost boys fanfiction#tlb x reader#slasher x y/n#the lost boys 1987
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“You handled that well,” Tommy said, as they left the restaurant and stepped out into this cool evening air. His words were soft, and gentle – genuine, even. As though he really meant it. Buck was baffled, frankly.
“I handled that with as much grace as an elephant doing ballet,” Buck glared at his - his date? - incredulously. “Tommy, did you hit your head? Are you concussed? Do I need to take you to the emergency room?”
or, after the eddie shaped hiccup of their first date, buck and tommy walk and talk - about coming out and why buck deserves a nice boyfriend.
Buck feels as though he’s swinging wildly between a panic attack and some sort of mental breakdown, heart thundering against his ribcage as he and Tommy finally leave the restaurant. It wasn’t how he’d want their first date - his first date with a man - to go, but then Eddie had appeared with Marisol on his arm and sat down with them, apparently completely oblivious to the fact that he was interrupting a date, and not a just a bro-hang (his words - not Bucks. Because Eddie was nothing if not an embarrassing old man stuck in a thirty-two-year-olds body.)
Tommy hadn’t corrected Eddie about the true nature of their outing, as Eddie had rambled on, hovering over the table, completely oblivious to what he was interrupting. Buck had never been more grateful for the fact that Tommy had already slid his credit card into the folder with the bill, their meal finished before Eddie and Marisol had even gotten seated at their own table. The waitress coming over to return Tommy’s card, and hand him a receipt, had been the perfect excuse for them to leave after fifteen of the worst minutes of Bucks life, making an excuse that he and Tommy had bought tickets to the movies. (“It’s sci-fi,” Buck had shrugged, impressed at the way he was internalising his own panic attack as he managed to splutter a sentence out. Eddie had looked almost hurt, when Buck had blurted that he and Tommy were going to the cinema without him. “You wouldn’t like it.”)
“You handled that well,” Tommy said, as they left the restaurant and stepped out into this cool evening air. His words were soft, and gentle – genuine, even. As though he really meant it.
Buck was baffled, frankly.
“I handled that with as much grace as an elephant doing ballet,” Buck glared at his - his date? - incredulously. “Tommy, did you hit your head? Are you concussed? Do I need to take you to the emergency room?”
Tommy laughed, the sound an utter delight to Buck’s ears. He was quickly learning that he loved the sound of Tommy’s laugh. “No, I’m not concussed,” he rolled his eyes, feigning offence. “It was a genuine compliment. I think you handled that really well, Evan.”
Buck filed the gooey feeling he got in the pit of his stomach he got when Tommy called him ‘Evan’ away to obsess over at another time. “R-really?” he hated the way he sounded so unsure, so uncertain – but he knew he needed to start embracing his own discomfort in the midst of all of this. Being – being newly bisexual was going to be uncomfortable, for a while, but Buck was realising it wasn’t a bad sort of uncomfortable. Weirdly, it was a good uncomfortable – like Buck was growing into his own skin, learning how to feel himself for the first time in his life. It would just take a little while, and it would take a few uncomfortable moments for him to figure out what this new version of Evan Buckley actually looked like.
No - not new. The true version.
“Yes, really,” Tommy nodded. He paused, glancing back at the restaurant. “How about we take a walk?” he suggested, gesturing vaguely at the miles of boardwalk and beach ahead of them. “I’m not in a rush – unless you are.”
“A walk sounds nice,” Buck agreed easily, because he didn’t want to go home just yet – and he didn’t want their date, however awkward and disastrous it had been, to end just yet. He liked spending time with Tommy.
They walked along in silence for a few minutes, Buck blushing like a schoolkid as he and Tommy’s shoulders bumped together.
“Look – coming out isn’t easy. It’s something you have to do over, and over again, for the whole of your life,” Tommy began. “I used to think that you did it once, and that was it, but you come out every time you meet someone new, every time you start a new job. It gets easier, with time, right? At some point – you come out so many times, it feels as familiar as breathing. But those first few times – those are hard.”
“I didn’t even come out,” Buck pointed out.
“You don’t have to,” Tommy shrugged. “And you’re deliberately not listening to my point.”
Buck couldn’t help but grin. “I like to be obtuse sometimes. Explain it to me again?”
“You think you’re cute,” Tommy poked Buck in the side, clearly enjoying the way it made Buck squirm. “My point is, the first time you say those words to someone – your friends, your family – it’s hard. It’s okay to give yourself some time to prepare, to not want to do it right away.”
“Shouldn’t – shouldn’t I want to come out?”
“It’s not an obligation,” Tommy shrugged, gently redirecting Buck to a bench. It was a peaceful spot, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore a peaceful sound as they sat. “Society is like – it’s structured in a way that makes it so if you’re queer, there’s this expectation that you have to divulge these deeply personal things about yourself to everyone you meet. It’s not exactly fair, is it?”
Buck had never thought about it that way before. “No,” his brow furrowed. “It’s not very fair at all.”
“If you don’t want to come out, you don’t have to,” Tommy said. “But it does feel good to come out. If I can give you some like – advice, I guess. It’s a freeing feeling.”
“I’d like to come out,” Buck managed after a minute or two of silence. “I’ve been thinking about it since – since you kissed me,” he paused, feeling heat rise in his cheeks as he looked at Tommy. Tommy, to his credit, tried to swallow his pleased smile. “I feel more like myself than I ever have before. Like – like there was a part of me that was missing, and I didn’t even know it wasn’t there, and now I know it what it is, and what was missing, I feel more like myself than I ever have before in my life.”
Tommy’s smile was bright. “I’m glad to hear that, Buck.”
“I’d like to come out,” Buck repeated, twisting so he could face Tommy. “I just wasn’t prepared to do it on our first date, if I’m honest.”
“And that’s why I’m telling you that you handled it well,” Tommy nudged. “You knew you weren’t ready to have that conversation, there and then, so you came up with an excuse, and got us out of there.”
“You got us out of there,” Buck pointed out. Tommy had been the one to play along and say they’d be late for the movie, if they didn’t leave, there and then. “I didn’t even say thank you for buying dinner. I’m such a bad first date.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re a great first date.”
Buck huffed out a disbelieving breath. “I was basically mid-panic attack the entire time, Tommy, you don’t have to lie to me to save my feelings.”
“I’m not lying,” Tommy shrugged. “If there’s one thing you should know about me, Evan, it’s that I don’t lie. You’ll probably be sick of my honesty, in a few weeks.”
“In a few weeks? You – you want to keep doing this?”
“Why do you sound so unsure? Have I done something to make you think I don’t want to keep doing this?”
“N-no,” Buck paused for a second. “It’s kind of the opposite, actually.”
Tommy was quiet, giving Buck the space – and the silence – he needed to collect his thoughts. Buck was grateful for it.
“I don’t have the best dating history,” Buck admitted. “One day, further down the line, when I’m sure you’re not going to run away, I’ll tell you all the reasons why – but it sort of all boils down to childhood trauma and my deep-rooted abandonment issues,” he tried his best to give Tommy a smile, turn the admission into a joke. “So, I just – I end up picking the wrong people to date. I chase the wrong people. And now – now you’re here, and you’re being so kind, and understanding, I don’t really know what to do with it.”
“You could enjoy it,” Tommy offered, and it sounded so simple, when Tommy put it that way. Buck could just enjoy it. He could enjoy dating a man – a kind, sweet, very handsome man. He could enjoy the way he felt entirely out of his depth when Tommy offered him nothing but kindness, expecting nothing in return.
He could enjoy it.
He wanted to enjoy it.
“How the hell are you real?” Buck couldn’t help but breathe out, shaking his head. Tommy was just – a dream come true, in so many ways, and Buck didn’t know how he got so lucky to have him be interested in Buck. It felt so new, and exciting – none of the existential dread Buck normally felt as he tried to make relationships fit into his life when clearly, they never would.
He could see how Tommy could fit into his life. They worked the same job, so Tommy understood the crazy hours and long shifts. Tommy already knew so many of Buck’s most important people – and liked them – and he liked Buck. He actually liked Buck.
It seemed silly, to keep coming back to that, but Buck hadn’t always felt as though the people he dated him, really liked him. Abby liked the idea of him. Taylor liked the story they made. Natalia liked the fact he had died. Buck didn’t exactly have the best track record of people liking him for who he was, flaws and all – and okay, after one date, Tommy didn’t know his flaws so intimately, but he’d just witnessed Buck having a meltdown in a restaurant and he wasn’t running away.
He was sitting on a bench, listening to Buck.
Buck could definitely enjoy that.
“My mom hasn’t spoken to me since I came out,” Tommy said, after a few more minutes of silence. Buck’s expression must have turned to one of absolute horror, because Tommy gave him a reassuring look. “You told me something about yourself – so I’m telling you something about me.”
“Tommy, that’s horrible – I’m sorry.”
Tommy shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said it was okay,” he hummed thoughtfully. “But one of my very favourite things about being queer is that you find a family for yourself in this community. You know? Well – of course you know. You’ve done that with the 118.”
Buck shuffled a little closer. “I’d like to do that with the queer community too. As long as you don’t mind being my like – gay Yoda.”
Tommy snorted, the sound an utter delight amongst all the background noise of the boardwalk, people going about their Saturday evenings, unaware that Buck was having the most life-changing night of his life. “You’re secretly such a nerd,” he shook his head. “I’m happy to be your gay Yoda, Buck.”
“Yeah, but – what do you get out of it?”
Tommy fixed him with a look. “Buck,” he reached out, hand brushing against Buck’s palm. “I get to have you.”
And –
Oh.
Was that enough?
“It’s enough,” and oh – Buck must have said that part out loud, Tommy’s expression endearingly soft as he nudged Buck. “I promise. You’re more than enough.”
Buck would probably cry, if he spoke there and then, so he settled for doing something he’d been wanting to do since Tommy had knocked on his door at exactly eight pm that evening, and he leaned in and kissed him. It was a chaste kiss, soft, and sweet, a brief press of lips that still sent tingles down Buck’s spine as they broke apart.
He’d just kissed a man – in public.
That felt a lot like progress.
“I – I hope I’m not being too forward, when I ask this,” Tommy’s face was flushed in a way that Buck could only be delighted with. He’d made the other man blush. “But do you maybe want to come back to mine? Not – not for anything like that. I just don’t want this date to be over, and we could watch a movie.”
Buck had absolutely zero fucking intentions of watching a movie if he got to go inside of Tommy’s apartment. “Yeah,” he smiled, hooking a pinky finger around Tommy’s, not quite ready to hold his hand just yet. “A movie sounds great.”
#911 on abc#911#evan buckley#tommy kinard#bucktommy#in which i ramble#in which lorna writes fic#anyway. the brain rot continues
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I HAVE COME BACK! i loved what you did with my request omg <3 but now i have something real dirty i wanna ask of you my lovely.
is it possible we can get a mermaid type thing? so what i'm picturing is kinda like the original Ariel movie yk? so the reader can have a giant fish tail and can speak underwater but instead of losing a voice when they shift to two legs, they lose vision :DDD
really it's like the blindfold kink without a blindfold lmaoo but can we also get the reader to be a bit on the chubbier side? reader likes to eat too much krill lol TYSM MY LOVELY you work so hard i love youu
I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH!!!!
König x Mermaid!Reader (fem)
Part 2
MDNI🔞
Master List ✍🏽
>cw: fem/afab, sketchy deals, blindness, groping
2.0k word count
🧜♀️
.
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Last week you’ve noticed a ship docked in the port; you typically scour for human inventions. Your first thought is excitement about all the new things that might be tossed into the sea or on shore for you to grab. Yet, it’s not the little treasures that keep bringing you back.
You linger miles away from the shoreline, watching as the men on the ship wake up. Only the top of your head peeking through the water so you aren’t spotted. Your eyes instantly focus on him. He towers over all the other men, his pale skin turning red from exposure to the blistering sun. It’s almost as if your heart stops beating when you see him. He’s perfect, worth leaving the safety of distance to get a closer look.
König walks on to the dock with his men, his mind fuzzy as he recovers from heat exhaustion; not being able to fully rest. He has never felt this level of disorientation before. As he walks along the boardwalk, his flash falls off his hip into the water. His eyes shift, looking as he sinks lower down into the water.
“Scheiße.”
König stops, pulling off his white shirt and dark blue pants, tossing them aside so they don’t weigh him down. He dives into the blue water, swimming down after his flask. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a shape, causing him to panic, missing his flask as he turns around to swim back up.
This is the closest you’ve ever been to a human, to him. You watch him return quickly to the surface without his item, so you grab it for him. König breaks the water, crawling up on to the shoreline. He lies on his back breathing deeply from the adrenaline that just rushed through his body. His eyes remain watching the water, yet he sees no shark fin. Could he be seeing things still?
With his flask in hand, you poke your head out of the water. Your eyes instantly locking with his pale blue eyes. After a moment of intense eye contact, you lift your arm with his flask. König sits slack jaw looking at you, a beautiful woman in the water.
Your head goes back underneath as you swim closer to him, showing up only a foot away from one another. You take your time to study his features, how beautiful he looks. His skin was covered in scars and his eyes locked onto you.
“Hallo?” König says in a small voice that surprises himself.
“Hello.” You bring up his flask to hand to him, coming up onto land more.
König ignores the flask in your hand. Instead, he looks at your whole body. Your skin seems impossibly soft, your large breasts bare without a top also exposing your chubby stomach. As his eyes travel down, the color of a bright green and iridescent blue looking fish's tail follows you.
“König!” A group of voices shout from behind him.
“I’ll be right there!”
He turns to look behind him at his men calling for him. Once he turns back to face you, you’re gone. Nowhere to be seen. His eyes frantically search for your presence, but the only thing that remains is his flask pushed into the sand.
“König, come on. We’re late to start the day.” One of his men, Alan, says as he approaches him on the beach.
“Did- did you see her?” König asks, still searching the ocean for you.
“Who?” Alan looks down confused.
“There was… a naked woman. I think she was a woman.”
“I think the suns getting to you again, maybe you should get in the shade and drink something.” Alan tries to suppress the chuckle in his voice so he doesn’t anger the testy giant.
“I heard her speak…maybe you’re right.”
König stands and grabs his flask, walking back to the dock to get dressed before following his men to the small port city so he can get fresh water to drink. The image of your full breasts and soft plush body lingers in his mind. The way your voice sounded so sweet… if you’re a dream come true, he hopes to see you again soon.
You rush back to your home, full of excitement and heart full of love. A soft hum leaves your lips as you dance in the water, celebrating your new found love. That all stopped once you noticed Tabatha, the sea witch, lingering by the entrance of your home. She looks over at you with a knowing smile on her lips.
“Hello, little princess.” She greets you with disdain in her voice.
“What are you doing here?” You stop swimming and stare at her, guarded.
“Oh, nothing.” Her tentacles push her off the rocks behind her body. “Just noticed you were gone today during your fathers gathering.”
“I’m allowed to have my own life—”
“A life near the surface of the water? Near…humans?” She smirks at you as he swims closer, circling your body with her slender long frame.
“Please don’t tell my father.” You instantly begin to beg, the thought of him finding out terrifies you.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I just wonder why you never come to me…” Tabatha fakes a voice of sadness as her shoulders drop.
“What do you mean?” Her act works, piquing your interest.
“Well, you know I make miracles happen.” Tabatha turns her head slightly, masking her smirk as her blonde hair flows in the water.
“But at what cost?”
“You can’t expect a witch to work for free. It’s always a fair trade, it’s not my fault some don’t…follow through.” She turns to face you again.
“Well, what are you offering me?”
“Human legs. Lungs. The ability to leave your oppressive father and explore the world you desire to be a part of. You can fall in love with that sunburnt lover boy.” Tabatha gets close to you, so close her tentacles begin reaching out and caressing your flowing hair.
“What do you expect back?”
“Oh, it’s nothing really…” She goes behind you, whispering in your ears. “Just your sight.”
“My sight? Are you insane?”
“What? Don’t they say love is blind? So, what will you need your vision for?” There is almost a sound of glee in her voice, she’s aware of how tempting her offer to you is.
“But… I’d miss seeing his face.”
“Oh, princess, you’ll get your vision back eventually—if you can make him fall in love with you with this…ailment…then it’s true love.”
You look off into the entrance of your decorated cave. “What if he doesn’t?”
“Then I’ll keep your vision and you’ll be forced to navigate the ocean sight unseen. A risk, of course, but I’m sure you’ll succeed.”
You close your eyes and think about König. His pale eyes and skin, the scars litter his face and body. You’ll miss looking at him, but if it’s temporary. Tabatha’s tentacles grab your arms and spin you around to face her. She looks into your eyes, seeing the desperation. She knows she has to add a bonus to push you off the edge, making you take the risk.
“You’ll also be able to return home…see your sea family. If you’d even want too by then.”
“I could?”
“Of course. There are spells for everything.”
“Why are you being so helpful?”
To spite the king, your father. So she can punish him for banishing her for simply having a different body. With you out of water, he would be lost. Broken. With you here simply a helpless creature blinded by love—that’s even better.
“I’ll do it.”
The words escape your lips before you can even second guess yourself. You watch as her eyes darken with pleasure. She caresses your face with her hands as he holds you at the waist with two tentacles.
“Good choice. Look into my eye. Just don’t look away.”
You gaze at her blackened eyes. Slowly, you feel yourself getting light headed. Everything around you begins to fade, your body falling into a sleep-like state. Soon enough you’re out of it, puddy in Tabatha’s grip.
König comes back to the ship, later than the rest of his men. His body was exhausted in the tropical heat. He walks slowly and looks over to the beach where he saw you earlier only to stop in his tracks. You. It’s you.
König rushes to you, his body getting a rush of adrenalin as you lay there. As he approaches, he notices that you’re completely naked. Your plump body is on full display for him. While he wants to look away and be a gentle man, you just look so delicate. He kneels near your body, gently grabbing your shoulder and laying you on your back. His eyes exploring your breasts and apron stomach. Your thighs look welcoming with a forest of hair between your legs guarding your sacred cunt. You can’t possibly be real.
“Hallo? Fräulein?”
You hear his voice as you slowly come to. The feeling of his warm hands radiating throughout your whole body. Your face turns to him, opening your eyes to gaze up at him, but see nothing. There is simply nothing. A hand reaches out to caress his face, fingers tracing down his nose to his thin lips.
König watches your face as you explore him. You’re the woman from before, yet your eyes are pale and you seem to lack your vision. The green tail is now gone. He knows it’s you though, your beautiful face and supple body.
“My name is König.” Your heart flutters hearing the name he was called earlier, it’s him. “Are you okay? Can you speak?”
“Y-yes.” Your voice sounds like a chorus of angels to König.
“What is your name?”
“I’m y/n.”
“Are you lost? You can’t see.” He says as a statement as your hand travels to his jaw.
“I am.”
“How did you even end up here?”
“I don’t know. I passed out and woke up here.”
König’s eyes travel over your body before gently grabbing you, lifting you from the sand. Poor thing probably is suffering from exhaustion. Your body feels cold against his body, a welcomed sensation. He walks you back to his ship, making sure to head straight to his small cabin.
The sounds around you seem louder, each step he takes on the wood beneath him seems to boom in your ears. You wiggle your toes, feeling your new feet. A whole new body you have to explore. You can hear a heavy door close before being sat on a soft fabric.
König takes a seat next to you, his massive body completely towering over you. He reaches out and caresses your arms. A shiver runs over your body, never having been touched so delicately before. His eyes see goosebumps forming on your skin.
“You’re a very beautiful woman.”
You place a hand on your own thigh, feeling it. He watches you closely as your hand moves up to the patch of hair covering your pussy. Unable to resist, he places his hand on your other thigh. In a slow motion, he rubs a circle on the soft skin of your inner thigh. You let out a sigh and open your legs more to permit him more space.
König gazes at you, taking this as the invite he was desiring. His large hand moves up until he grazes against the fluffy bush, gently pushing past to touch your folds. His finger grazes over your clit to see your reaction. Your leg twitches and a surprised moan leaves your lips.
The simple touch of his finger felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Being unable to see his next move sends a jolt of excitement through you. A spark in passion is ignited and you feel hopeful you’ll be able to make him fall in love with you. He’s already obsessed with your body; he can easily fall in love with your mind.
Part 2
#konig#könig#konig cod#konig x y/n#konig smut#könig mw2#könig cod#konig x reader#könig x reader#könig smut#light smut#cod smut#konig x reader smut#smut#könig call of duty#konig call of duty#cod konig#cod könig#konig mw2#konig x you#könig x y/n#könig x you#x mermaid!reader#konig x mermaid
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141 Beach Episode // Cod x Reader
You know how in every good show there's a beach episode? Yeah this is theirs.
The 5 of you were sat in a truck with the aircon blasting. Price was dramatically fanning himself with his boonie hat. With one hand placed on the steering wheel. You had just finished a week-long mission and it left you all somewhere on the east coast with the sun beating down with no mercy. You were so uncomfortable, dressed head to toe in full gear practically sweltering in it.
“Not used to this bloody heat.”
Soap sighed placing a hand to his forehead to relieve his brow of sweat.
“I’ve got the aircon.”
Gaz smirked, of course he was fine he was sat in the front seat with cold air blasting directly onto him. You were squished between Ghost and Soap, plus he always wore a sunhat and sunglasses even in the rain.
“How ghost isn’t a puddle yet I have no clue.”
You stated, glancing over at ghost who was dressed in all black with his mask still pinned down onto his face yet he didn’t show a single sign of discomfort.
“Can you even breathe? Isn’t it like being trapped under a blanket?”
“I can breathe fine.”
He grunted not sounding amused by your questions.
“Look at tha’ ain’t it a pretty view.”
Soap said tapping on the truck window, everyone’s eyes glanced to meet where he was pointing. You were greeted with the sight of a gorgeous white sandy beach with the clearest sea water you had ever seen with families playing in the sand and surfers utilizing the waves.
“The things I would give to dive in those waves.”
You said groaning, resting your head back in the seat knowing you had a hot and uncomfortable 6+ flight ahead of you to get back to base in England not to mention the drive to even get to the airport.
“Can’t we stop for a bit? The missions all done and dusted, surely, they don’t need us back that hastily.”
Gaz asked turning to face the captain with a cheesy grin plastered across his face.
“I could use a pint. I’m sweating like a fucking pig. We only have a few hours but I think we could all use a break.”
“Make that two.”
Ghost’s gruff voice chimed in his mood perking up at the promise of a cold beer.
“I think everyone here wants a bloody pint.”
A few moments later the 5 of you were all stood on the beach boardwalk, you removed your boots and placed them by the railing before stepping onto the soft, warm sand.
“I have never ever stepped on sand so soft oh my-“
You wondered how long it had been before you stood barefoot on a beach. Probably not since you were a child on a day trip with your family.
“Shit the sands a bit hot ain’t it?”
Soap said as she stepped onto the sand beside you, shifting from foot to foot as he complained about the temperature once again.
“I’ll go grab us some drinks, find a spot I’ll come find you all.”
Price said before stepping up the stairs and walking towards the crowded beach bar on the boardwalk.
Ghost, who was still dressed fully in his gear stomped behind you scouting the beach for a place to sit like it was the toughest decision he ever had to make.
“Here.”
He said pointing to a peaceful square of the beach, not too far from the shore.
You all placed your backpacks down and set a towel down for yourself. Ghost was wrestling with the beach umbrella to get it stood up.
“Whose going for a swim?”
Soap said with a huge smile on his face as he stripped off his t shirt leaving him in his cargo shorts.
“You go first mate, tell us how cold it is eh?”
Gaz joked, pushing soap slightly closer the seafront.
“Don’t be a pussy.”
“I’ll go!”
You said, removing your jacket and vest leaving you in a tank top and some old cargo shorts dumping by your backpack them away from the shore so the waves didn’t steal them.
You jogged down to the water front stood beside Soap and Gaz.
“Whose going to make the first move then?”
You all stood in a line, hands on hips inspecting the water as it broke in front of you. As you spoke Soap dived headfirst into a wave like a goofy dolphin. He stuck his head up like an seal, running his hands through his mohawk and wiping the salty water off his face.
“Is it cold?”
You shouted through the crashing waves.
“Nah, its refreshing.”
He shouted back before running through the water back onto the shore to stand beside the two of you.
“I don’t know if I’m that hot anymore you know-“
You said backing off after feeling the ‘refreshing’ water splash over your feet and ankles sending little shockwaves through you.
With that statement Soap placed two hands on your waist and lifted you up into the air before placing you over his shoulder like a fireman would carrying someone out a burning building.
“DON’T YOU DARE SOAP, I MEAN IT.”
You screamed thumping his back in fear as he stepped into the freezing ocean once again. Gaz stood on the shore filming the entire situation laughing at your misfortune. Ghost sat watching from afar under a big shady umbrella pint in hand with Price sat beside him reading something, smoking one of his cigars as per usual.
“Ready?”
Soap teased as he began to hoist you up even further before throwing you into the sea with a huge splash. The cold water shocked you at first but after a few seconds, soap was right. It was kind of refreshing. You popped your head up out the water with a frown.
“I hate you asshole.”
“You weren’t going to get in I had no choice-“
You pushed a big wave of water his way aiming for his face secretly hoping the salt would burn his eyes.
“GAZ GET IN.”
Gaz stepped into the water with haste joining you and soap.
“We going play mermaids or what?”
You asked with a chuckle as the 3 of you treaded water in a circle.
“I would prefer to drown Soap.”
Gaz said before dunking soaps head back under the water.
About an hour later you sat on the beach wrapped in your towel, drying off in the sun.
“Been a while since I’ve been able to relax on a beach.”
Price spoke, he was leant back on a sun lounger his hat placed over his face shielding his eyes from the setting sun.
“Thought you were asleep old man.”
Ghost chuckled.
“Can we take a photo?”
You asked bringing out your super old digital camera you dragged around on every single mission.
The 5 of you gathered in closer. Gaz throwing up a peace sign. Soaps arm slung around ghost and a beer held loosely in the other. Captain Price sat up placing his hands on your shoulders. Your smiles were all wide (you would like to believe ghost’s was too) as the light of the setting sun glowed on your faces.
That day was a good day.
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#call of duty fluff#call of duty x reader#captain john price#captain price#captain price x reader#cod fanfiction#cod angst#cod oneshot#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfiction#soap call of duty#cod x reader#cod modern warfare#soap cod#ghost x reader#cod mw2#gaz cod#ghost call of duty#cod#captain price fanfic#fanfic
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Hey bestie
If the slot is still open can I have any form of Dwayne fluff. I’m back on my bullshit again and that bullshit is just the lost boys once more 🧡
Each Night Before You Go To Bed
(I really don’t do song based fics, this song just gives the vibes of what I’ve written, enjoy)
Of course I can write you some Dwayne Fluff! Hope you love this!
Dwayne x GN Reader
Warnings: some mentions of future child raising (but intentionally “raising” instead of “having” so reader could be whatever sex)
Dwayne’s arm hung around your shoulder, his finger laced loosely with yours. His thumb rubbed gently over your skin, a gesture so natural he barely realized he was even doing it anymore.
You spent every night together nowadays. Neither of you could stand being apart for very long. Dawn was agony, but you were thankful for every dusk that came with the promise of your lover gracing your doorstep. You’d never understood the “madly in love” cliche before Dwayne, but you got it now. Truly, madly, deeply.
As you walked along the boardwalk, intertwined, a thrift store caught your eye. You nudged your shoulder gently, prompting Dwayne to gaze down at you, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Can we go in there?” You pointed with your free hand and Dwayne followed the path of your finger before nodding. “Sure baby.”
You smiled softly, tugging him along with you as you entered the store.
You’d been meaning to check out Artifact for ages on Marko’s recommendation, he’d always had great luck with the pieces here.
You squeezed Dwayne’s hand gently as you disentangled from his embrace, leaving him to browse as you flipped through the racks.
A couple minutes later, when you’d found some things to try out, you glanced around to check on your boyfriend.
Your eyes scanned the store, and once they settled on Dwayne, your face twisted in confusion. He was starring intently at something, you couldn’t quite see, on the shelves.
Curious, you crept around quietly to catch a glance of what he was so fixated on. When you peeked over his shoulder, your heart melted.
Dwayne had been starring at a pair of baby tennis shoes. He didn’t even notice you come to his side he was so lost in thought as he stared.
“Whatcha thinking about?” You asked, resting your head on his shoulder and whispering in his ear.
He tensed for a second, then blushed. Actually blushed. You’d never seen him do that before.
“Nothing baby, just uh…got a little distracted,” he smiled sheepishly before taking the clothes from your hands. “Did you want to try these on?” He’d brushed off the subject but you weren’t quite ready to move on.
You gave him a knowing look before reaching around to pick up the shoes. “Let’s get these too,” you suggested.
His eyes widened as his cheeks flushed again, “what would we do with them?”
You grinned, “I don’t know, I just thought we might need ‘em someday.”
The corners of Dwayne’s lips turned up into a bright smile, causing you to smile as well. How had you never noticed he had dimples before? For a tall, dark and handsome creature of the night, he was adorable. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his nose, causing his cheeks to flush for the third time that night.
He grabbed the shoes almost reverently, smiling to himself and wrapping his arm around you.
“C‘ mon baby, I wanna see how these look on you,” he gestured to the pieces you’d picked, still held in his other hand, as he led you towards the fitting rooms.
After leaving the thrift store the two of you wandered to your favorite spot on the beach.
It was completely deserted, save the two of you. Just the way you liked it.
You leaned against his bare chest, his right arm snaked around your waist in a comforting embrace.
When he’d told you he was a vampire, back before you’d started dating, you’d thought he’d be freezing. No blood circulation and all that.
But every time he held you, you never felt more warm. You leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, looking up at him fondly.
He smiled softly, leaning down to press his soft lips to yours.
“I love you you know?” he whispered.
You smiled brightly, “don’t get all soft on me because I’m gonna raise a kid with you one day.”
He frowned slightly, his brow furrowing as he shook his head.
“I don’t love you because of that,” he started, “I’d love you no matter what you wanted.”
He moved his head to rest against yours, “I don’t love what you can do for me baby, I love you.” He sighed, his eyes closing blissfully, “I love you more than anything.”
Your eyes watered and you turned your head to kiss his cheek. “I love you just as much,” you assured him. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“I wish I couldn’t,” he mused, his brow furrowing “had to wait a long time for you to come around.” He nudged you, “good thing you were worth it.”
You giggled, “no more lonely nights for either of us hmm?”
He nuzzles your nose with his, “never again,” he kissed your cheek, “what a privilege it is to be yours.”
You could feel your entire face flush bright red. “What’s with you tonight Mr. Romantic?” you teased.
He laughed softly, your favorite sound. “Just happy,” he told you.
You moved to loop your arms around him, “me too.”
Dawn was quick approaching as Dwayne dropped you off at your apartment. Your least favorite part of the night.
When the two of you reached the front door, his hands slid to your waist. He pulled your hips in gently as your hands snaked around his shoulders.
He leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. You mewed into his mouth, one of your hands moving to tangle in his gorgeous hair.
You felt him smile against your lips as you stroked his hair. His hand moved up from your hip to your back, pulling you impossibly closer as his tongue slid into your mouth.
After awhile, you pulled away reluctantly. You wished you could keep going, but you’d hate to find yourself making out with a pile of ash.
You reached up to caress his cheek softly. He turned his head, his eyes closing as he kissed your hand.
“See you as soon as the sun goes down?” he asked.
You pressed one last chaste kiss to his lips, “and not a moment later.”
Taglist❤️ (comment to be added):
@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @gothamslostboy @crustyboypix @ghoulgeousimmaculate @sad-ghost-of-garbage @anna1306 @chiefdirector @dwaynedelight @dwaynesluscioushair @its-freaking-bats @kurt-nightcrawler @ria-coolgirl @solobagginses @vampirefilmlover @vxarak @arenpath @bitchyexpertprincess @lostboys1987girl @arbesa-mind @softchonk @f4iryfxies @walmart-cereal @rynsfandomsfun @katerinaval @fraudfrog @memphiscity69
#the lost boys#the lost boys fic#tlb#tlb 1987#the lost boys 1987#dwayne lost boys#lost boys#lost boys dwayne#the lost boys dwayne#tlb dwayne#dwayne tlb#vampires#vampire fic#dwayne x reader#Dwayne x GN reader#Dwayne x human reader#Dwayne#lost boys 1987#fluff#lost boys fluff
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request for conrad bringing his girlfriend to the boardwalk in e4 with the group??? maybe a distraction kiss during the laser tag game so bellys team wins instead
i’m like a conrad fisher blurb machine. seriously. requests still open for all characters. hope i did this justice!!!! belly conklin i love u and ur need to win everything u are the love of my life. this NOT PROOFREAD! and not written very well i can do better trust. ok bye.
You like seeing him happy. It suits him. His entire face just lights up the minute his lips contorts into a grin, it’s contagious. He needed this day, with his friends. With Jeremiah. With you. He really needed you here in Cousins; but Conrad Fisher is not known for being vulnerable, he’s not even remotely close to an open book. So, a couple of days ago, when he opened the front door to be greeted with you, Jeremiah and Belly; it took all of his strength to stop himself from breaking down on the spot.
He hadn’t seen you in a while, and you both blame it on the distance; really, you do. That’s why you love summer so much. Cousins. The beach-house. It’s just for you and Conrad; for a little while, it’s just magical. He knows he could be putting more of an effort in, but he really doesn’t want you to see how low he gets. You’re his sunshine; and he really doesn’t want to dampen that.
You were tucked into his chest now, peering up at him and feeling the pure serenity rushing through your veins at the sight of him smiling. You love him so much it hurts.
“Laser tag!” Belly snaps you out of your daze, her fiery competitiveness making you jolt a little. “Hey, Conrad; hands off my girl. No mind games, I’ve got my eye on you.”
She gestures for you to stand over with her, Taylor and Skye. Taylor narrows her eyes at Conrad, and sends you a happy little grin as she reaches her hand out for you to grab at. You shrug your shoulders, swivelling your head away from your boyfriends attempt to kiss you a quick goodbye; and all of your friends laugh loudly at the rejection.
“Yeah, Conrad.” You snide. “No mind games.”
He flips you off.
“We actually don’t need mind games. We’re simply the better team.” Steven declares. Conrad and Jeremiah yell out agreements as the three of them wrap their arms around each other.
You spin on your heel and face your three teammates. “Four against three. We have an advantage he—“
Conrad boos loudly. “You have no advantage.”
“Ignore him.” Belly chimes in, the two of you standing before Taylor and Skye. You nod. “We have to beat them. Game face on; in it to win it. Team Belly for life.”
“Oh please, that’s the worst pep talk I’ve ever heard!” Your boyfriend laughs. Steven and Jeremiah spew out words of agreement.
You raise your eyebrows. “Okay, Fisher. You wanna trash talk? Because remember that night I went to visit you and your dorm hall was empty and you wanted to—“
His face falls, and turns bright red. “Alright! Let’s play.”
Belly pulls you in for a hug. “Hit him where it hurts, I like it. Also.. I’m gonna need to hear that story later.”
You grin.
The game is actually not as lighthearted as one would think. So, maybe you’re all in your late teens; and maybe it’s a game aimed for six year olds’ birthday parties, regardless; you have a competitive streak that could possibly be labelled a little toxic. You need to win, badly. You’ve hit Steven and Jeremiah, easily. Your main target is Conrad; and you can’t seem to find him anywhere. Until you do, and you smile sweetly.
“Hi.” You whisper. He smiles and greets you back.
You hold your hands up in surrender. “I come in peace.”
You get a little laugh from him; and he shakes his head. You melt a little. “You know, you’re cute when you’re all competitive. Maybe slightly hot, too.”
You gasp. “Only slightly?”
“Super.”
“If I promise not to shoot, will you kiss me? Please.” You hit him with the puppy dog eyes and suddenly he finds himself not even caring about this game anymore. He loves you so much it makes him feel ill.
“Promise you won’t shoot?”
“Promise I won’t shoot.”
He pulls you in by your waist and kisses you softly, then a little harder. Your hands find his hair and you stand up on your tiptoes to deepen it. This is way too lovey dovey for an arcade. You fear not even Cam Cameron could prevent you guys from getting kicked out if some overprotective mother stumbles upon you.
He’s zapped in the back, and he freezes. Grimacing in aggravation when he hears Belly’s evil cackle from a few feet behind him. She doesn’t stop zapping, maybe enjoying it a little too much. You bite down on your bottom lip to trap your laughter.
“You promised.” He whines.
“Promised that I wouldn’t shoot. Unfortunately, Belly is a force to be reckoned with. The woman cannot be contained.” You shrug, and Belly hits him with a yeah, suck it Conrad.
He sighs. “So that was planned, then.”
“Yes and no.”
He falls in to step with you as Belly races forward to claim your spot as the winning team. “And no?”
“I was told to kiss you. Just not like that. That was..” Your voice trails off. “Wow. That was just wow.”
He laughs, and you laugh with him. “I love you, you know that? Like a lot.”
“Good. You should love me.” You exclaim, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m the world's best girlfriend.”
He nods, pushing the stray hairs on your face behind your ears. “You are. Seriously.”
You kiss him again, this time there’s no ulterior motive. You’re just sickeningly in love.
#conrad fisher imagine#conrad x reader#conrad fisher fluff#Conrad fisher blurb#conrad fisher smut#Conrad fisher fic#tsitp#the summer I turned pretty#the summer i turned pretty conrad#fitzells drabbles
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Team green characters at the beach
Alicent:
Wearing a beach robe while judging other women for their immodesty
Made sure everyone had everything they needed, all fav snacks, drinks, and sand toys packed
Otto:
Reads in the shade and enjoys the breeze
Indulges the young ones and Halaena in their conversation of choice
Criston:
Barbecued super well, the hotdogs were so good Jaehaerys asked to have some everyday for the next week
Acting like a simp towards Alicent, bc she's slaying in her swimsuit, much to everyone's annoyance and/or amusement
Gwayne:
Reminding his nephews and his niece to reapply sunscreen regularly, bc he knows Targs burn easily in the sun (reapplied it himself on the twins)
Went to get everyone some milkashes and smoothies at a boardwalk cafe bc he wanted some, and no one else would get up to do it
Aegon:
Flirting with the beach babes
Went to every tourist trap and found a gag gift for each person (he insists it's for a joke, but he wanted to give them lil gifts)
Halaena:
Walked along the beach to spot bugs in the sand
Taking lots of pictures of everyone and everything to remember the day fondly
Aemond:
Wears a baseball cap, stays in the shade and keeps reapplying sunscreen on his face to avoid getting a sunburn in the shape of his eyepatch
Fav beach snacks are Alicent's homemade sandwiches paired with sweet fruit juice
Daeron:
Spending a good chunk of the day in the water with his sister and her children, helping her teach them how to swim
Joined Gwayne on his errand run to take a break from the fam for a bit
Jaehaera:
Stayed by her momma on her walks and collected sea glass, shells, and pretty rocks
Rambled on about what shapes she thinks the clouds are to Otto
Jaehaerys:
He's that kid that digs a huge hole in the sand and shows it off to his family
Joined other kids at the beach in a game of tag and got whiny when he was 'it'
(Requested by @mrs-starkgaryen )
#asoiaf#house of the dragon#a song of ice and fire#dance of the dragons#hotd season 2#fire and blood#team green#queen alicent#alicent hightower#otto hightower#gwayne hightower#criston cole#crispy cole#alicole#alicent x criston#hotd s2#hotd hc#hotd headcanon#aegon ii targaryen#aemond targaryen#halaena targaryen#daeron targaryen#jahaerys targaryen#jahaera targaryen#prince aemond#aemond one eye#daeron the daring#king aegon#beachlife
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Plead the Fifth (Riddle, Floyd, Azul, Jack, Lilia, and Ace x Yuu)
Summer vacation is all fun and games until someone asks you to be honest with yourself. Unfortunately for Yuu, they got dragged to the beach by some "friends" and are getting a big old dose of heat stroke, just not from a source they want to confess to outside of a court.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, no spoilers for Lost in the Book with Stitch this is just about their summer outfits. Vague tsundere vibes from Yuu, Yuu is implied to be physically strong, Floyd knows he's hot and has a bone to pick from Portfest, also he's a red flag have I mentioned that before? Azul is only mildly possessive don't worry about it ♡. Mild suggestiveness all around, but I don't think it's too much. Feel free to check out my more serious work on my masterlist.
Riddle
"Seriously!" Riddle's cheeks are puffed in annoyance, and you have an uncomfortably close view. Not that you don't like looking at Riddle, quite the opposite, it's just hard to look at him... properly when he's fussing over your injured hand. "You would think that such a highly recommended resort would have better quality glasses." You don't know if you should be relieved or insulted Riddle believes it's cheap glass and not your raw strength responsible for the glass shards stuck in your hand. You flex it uncertainly, and he stares you into stillness. It's hard to focus with him so close, hard to breathe even. How Riddle hasn't noticed how beautiful he is normally is beyond you, but with how carefree he's been, staring out at the ocean and happily bringing you to see every unique shell he can identify, there is no way he can't at least sense how you look at him. It's just too much, and you find yourself pulling away worried he will find you disgusting.
But that's not what Riddle sees. He sees someone he cares for refusing to let him help. He certainly does not see someone who is nervously infatuated with him attempting to soothe their heart rate, otherwise he wouldn't have the nerve to continue being strict.
"Just where do you think you're going?" If he could collar you, he would, but instead he has to satisfy himself with yanking your shirt to keep you from struggling away. "Don't move, that's a direct order, prefect." You wheeze and Riddle decides to politely ignore your struggles, instead focusing on the weight of your hand in his with a smug sense of satisfaction. He is useful to you isn't he? So let him monopolize your attention for just a little longer.
Floyd
"Oooh Little Shrimpy~" You want to die. You probably are going to, Floyd has never been so close to your face without pinning your back to a wall, you would be stupid not to see it as a threat to squeeze. "You better not be thinkin' about callin' me adorable that'd really piss me off." You swallow. Or at least try to, you are horribly painfully aware that he has chosen to pick this fight just off the boardwalk meaning everyone can see your little spat and how little you have been looking at his eyes. Floyd can too, it's been sending a vaguely exciting shudder up and down his spine all day. He knows every dip and curve along his chest your eyes have followed, every lingering stare at his flexing shoulders, it's like you want to eat him for a change. He found that electrifying.
Or at least he had, but this little dance was starting to get boring.
What sort of predator never makes a move after setting the mood? He had tried telling himself he should be patient, shrimps aren't predators. Maybe Yuu needed extra time to set up their attack, he could work with that, maybe leave a few openings. But he was starting to run out of buttons to undo on his shirt and he really didn't want to ditch the sunglasses or beads just yet. He had been such a good patient eel, so why weren't you jumping on him already?
"I don't think-" You force yourself to look up at Floyd's eyes instead of his chest and your brain immediately fries. "I mean that isn't to say-" He glares at you and you try to wrack your brain for what compliment he could possibly want out of you. There is no way Floyd Leech is going to these lengths to try and get you to call him cool.
"Y'know, it's really rude to not answer your seniors shrimpy." Floyd draws himself up to his full height, with an oddly solemn look. "You're usually such a well-behaved little shrimp, is somethin wrong? You know if somethings wrong you had probably better tell me or Azul's gonna have to call the Headmage."
"It's because you're too hot ok! I cant focus on what you're saying because I keep looking at your fucking chest! Happ-" You can't get your compliment out before he's squeezed you into his chest and started shaking you around like a rag doll, squealing something about how hunting isn't that hard and he knew you could do it.
There's no way you were ever the one on the prowl here.
Azul
This isn't a date. Nothing about this is meant to be romantic, you are having a "purely platonic at best but lets be real this is probably for business" drink with Azul at the tacky (his words not yours) poolside bar. "I wouldn't have thought about putting a water park next to a beach." He murmers to himself, carefully photographing every angle of his float before sitting down to drink it. "It just sounds redundant." You shrug, idly stirring your own drink.
"You'd be surprised. Some humans really don't like swimming in the ocean." You're the one saying it, so he has no real choice to belive it but it's hard to wrap his head around.
"How is one of these parks safer? They aren't nearly as clean." He thinks that if he ran a place like this, that would be the biggest problem, humans are messy creatures already, but the level of mess he has just casually observed while sitting here with you really makes him wonder just what the actual appeal of this place is. Well, at least just what the appeal was to paying customers, he knew why he wanted to bring you here. Usually, when Azul turns to look at you, you immediately look away from him. But as long as you've been on this little vacation, no matter how many times he's looked your gaze has remained exactly where it should be. He's puffing with pride, looking you over wondering exactly what angle he can press to get you to say what it is you actually are thinking and not whatever cheap jab you have prepared to protect yourself.
You remain none the wiser, stuck staring at Azul and his shirt simultaneously drowning in how attractive you find him and how much it reminds you of a man in his mid fifties who relies on his bank account to make up for his miserable personality.
"See something you like, prefect?" Azul is unbelievably happy, you are tempted to say smug but then he sort of always does. It's the glasses you think as you bite on your straw and hope he doesn't notice how hard it is for you to maintain eye contact. But he does, oh he does, taking advantage of your flustered state to move closer to your side.
"You- you..." Azul is stupidly attractive he has to know that, but you also know he is desperately insecure and don't want to send him into a spiral with your stupid tongue. "You look like a middle-aged dad on his third divorce on vacation trying to doge the tax man." You mutter, trying really hard to sound threatening. It doesn't work, Azul just gives his best put upon sigh as he clucks his tongue in disappointment.
To your great surprise, he moves his hand to tilt your head to look him directly in his bright blue eyes, a similar smile to the one he has while trying to sell you on something directly kicking your heart rate up. He is trying to sell you on himself, you realize...
"How insulting, my dear. You should know better than anyone that no one gets out of a contract with me so easily they'd be able to do it three times." ... and he doesn't intend to take no for an answer. Not that it was the answer you intended to give him in the first place, and oh how happy he is to know that.
Jack
"Honestly! You would think you'd know to be more careful by now." You might as well be talking to a brick wall, Jack's certainly solid enough to pass for one. He still seems to be under the impression that he's fine despite how much of his weight you are supporting. You think he is trying to talk, but the heat has him only babbling nonsense. Reluctantly, he lets you guide him over to a shady patch of trees close to a water fountain before he is well and truly gone.
"This is nothing. I handled the Savana I can take a stupid beach." He mutters as if he his extremely visible chest isn't heaving or rolling with droplets of sweat that other, lesser people have been watching drip from his abs with extreme disrespect.
Not you, though! No, your eyes have been firmly on the spicket on the fountain, determined to soak one of the smaller towels you brought and gently press it to Jack's forehead. Despite his insistence that he's fine, he leans desperately into your cooling touch, tension leaving his shoulders in one deep breath.
Just as all strength leaves yours as he decides to collapse into your lap.
"J-Jack!" You don't know what you want to ask next. Your back is pinned to one of the trees, Jack's head is resting firmly in your lap, but the arm that had been around your shoulder has decided to move around your waist. He growls (growls!) when you gently try to push him off you to try and get him set up in a more comfortable position. "Bad dog." It's all you can think to say and he doesn't seem fazed, if anything you swear he starts holding you closer. There is no way this could get any more embarrassing.
"Mommy, what is that guy doing to his partner? It looks like he's trying to eat them." Never mind yes it could. You make awkward eye contact with a very young mother as you try to silently plead with her that "no, this isn't what it looks like, I swear" as you desperately try to revive Jack with the damp cloth. The young woman looks at you then to her child, clearly trying to hold back her laughter and not doing it very well. She manages to usher him off before he can ask any more pointed questions and you glare down at Jack.
"You're setting such a bad example." You mutter and he lets go of your waist only to cross his arms over his chest and start to snore. Oh he is going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up, assuming he believes half of what you'll have to say.
Lilia
Love and Lilia are old strangers. He knows he can feel it, no matter what ancient denials he might have made, but he finds no matter how long he lives he is no better at recognizing it, no better at knowing what to do with it. There's something ironic about how much of an outlier this chance meeting between you both that makes him feel something akin to apathy. He doesn't think that's quite the right word, but he struggles to better find an explanation for the little knots it ties itself in sometimes.
So Lilia may not know just what this emotion is no, but he knows he likes the way it looks on you.
"Well, prefect? It's rude to stare you know." He says that as if he is not trying to make you, winking just over his sunglasses and striking a pose Cater had shown him on magicam in just a silly enough way that he can pass it off as one of his usual jokes. Your usual denial flutters up on your face, but your heart seems to be beating your brain to your tongue today.
"You look very cute, Lilia." That strange pit is filling with nervous flutters again, but his brain beats his soul to his mouth.
"That's good! I was worried I'd have to spend this vacation in the shadows out of shame." He says, fully aware that you are both currently sat in the shade of a particularly large umbrella precisely because he can't be out in the sun for long, even if that's the purpose of a beach vacation. Speaking of which... "Why don't you go join the others out on the beach, prefect? You helped me with my little errand, you deserve to take a break." He says it much more gently than he'd intended, if it wasn't pointless, he'd keep you here and needle you for more cute reactions. Maybe he would ask you to try on his shirt and demand yours as payment. But that's not fair, that's not life, this connection is destined to be as fleeting as it is precious. The way disappointment and confusion mingle in your eyes tells him you know that too, on some level.
"Calling you cute isn't a chore, but sure, I guess." You tell him something about calling for you if he decides to go somewhere else, and he thinks he promises you only if you do the same, but he doesn't know. He's too focused on the way the sun takes you into it's embrace, taunting everyone but certainly him specifically with just how much you look like you belong out there in the daylight.
But the moon can still observe can't it? In a way that's all he knows how to do.
Ace
You really hate how low your standards are. Who the hell gets all jittery and flustered over a guy in a boater hat? You apparently, Ace has the worst dad on vacation fit you have ever seen, assuming you are politely ignoring Azul. Something that's unfortunately easy for you to do and has led to you paying just that much more attention to Ace.
Or at least that's what you've been trying to tell him while pointedly staring out at the shore. You wish he was too lazy to put things together, but as usual, when there is an inch to tease you over, Ace Trappola will take a mile.
"Admit it, you think I'm hot." He sounds so infuriatingly smug. It makes you want to kiss him but only to shut him up! Not because you like him!
"The only thing hot about you is how full you are of hot air! Seriously, what's up with that bunch of fruit on your shoulder? Why would I find that attractive?" You know it only sounds like you are asking yourself, begging more like, because you really do think he's attractive. It's written all over your face, you might as well scream it with just how flustered you become when finally you decide to look back at him.
"It's ok to admit. It might be self-centered to say, but I really am a catch. Really prefect how did you get so lucky?" Oh he is never going to let you live this down.
"Please, you look like a dead beat dad on his third divorce!" Your voice is unnaturally high, and Ace just laughs off your insult. "Who would be attracted to you!"
"You, duh." He takes your hand and pulls you back towards the beach. "Besides, if I convinced you to marry me twice, I can do it a third time." He winks at you over his shoulder and you stop dead in your tracks, so overwhelmed with annoyed affection and embarrassment it's all you can do to grasp for a come back.
"Was it Duece."
"What?" Ace is momentarily thrown, extremely confused by what he perceives as a change of subject.
"You said you could convince me to marry you a third time, but you're on your third divorce. So when did you leave me for Deuce ?"
"Wait I didn't- you know that's not what I meant!" And yes, technically, you do know that's not what he meant, but you refuse to be the only one embarrassed here. You hope he chokes.
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#floyd leech x reader#jack howl x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#ace trappola x reader
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Love is in the air
Paul x GN! Reader
A/n: Hi there! I decided to experiment with some writing prompts as an excercise to try and write more consistently. Hope you enjoy them!
Word count: 826
Prompt: "You're in love." / "I think you're delusional." / "And I think you're in denial."
David is being observant. :')
Paul wasn’t hard to notice, his handsome looks and loud personality making him stand out in a crowd of ordinary people. But that’s the thing, he was far from ordinary, and not just because he was a bloodthirsty creature of the night. That was true for all of you. His magic was in how much effect he had on you. He had a way to bring a smile to your face regardless of the circumstances, his sunny and silly persona brightening up the endless nights of your immortal life ever since you joined this little ragtag group all those years ago. He made you feel welcome, warming up your long dead heart after decades spent alone and lonely, drifting around from place to place before arriving to the small coastal town of Santa Carla.
You found yourself reminiscing about old times as you nursed a drink in your lap, your face warmed by the bonfire the guys set up on a more secluded part of the beach. You could faintly hear the noise and cheer of the boardwalk from afar, but it was mostly drowned out by Paul’s boombox sitting a few feet away from you, playing a rock song you heard him hum so many times before. Speaking of Paul, he was currently getting chased around the beach by Marko after throwing a handful of sand in his face. An amused grin spread across your face as the smaller boy tackled him to the ground with a victorious roar, the two of them rolling around in the sand coupled with howls of laughter.
Dwayne was off with Laddie to get some food while you and David sat around the fire, enjoying the balmy night air and watching the boys’ playfighting. Being so absorbed in your thoughts, you almost didn’t notice the feeling of eyes on you. Turning to the right, you found David staring, blue eyes studying your face with a cigarette in hand. You raised an eyebrow in a silent question, but he just shook his head, looking back into the fire with a knowing smile on his lips.
“What?” you asked. He shook his head again, his grin growing bigger, like he found something incredibly amusing that he wasn’t willing to share yet.
“David, what is it?” you barked, getting a tad irritated by his lack of response.
“Nothing. You’re just very easy to read.” Now you were just confused.
“What are you talking about?”
“Knowing you, I’m sure you haven’t even figured it out yet,” he continued completely ignoring your question.
Hackles raised, you were pretty convinced he just called you dense, but then the rest of his sentence registered. “Figured out what?”
David slowly looked at you, that annoying smirk on his face.
“That you’re in love.”
You suddenly grew flustered, turning away from him and taking a swig from your drink. Your eyes subconsciously sought out Paul, who seemingly got the upper hand during the small window of time you weren’t looking. He was currently grinning like a maniac as he started tickling Marko, the curly haired vampire flailing his arm around, trying to punch his friend in the face to make him stop. Without even meaning to, a smile rose to your lips at his antics. It quickly melted off as you caught yourself, face turning hot in embarrassment. Sneaking a glance at David, his shit-eating grin made it obvious that nothing had escaped his attention. You swiftly averted you gaze.
“I think you’re delusional,” you stated.
“And I think you’re in denial. I get it, darling, our Paulie is a good looking guy. There’s no shame in falling for his charms.”
You were pretty sure your head would spontaneously combust if he kept up that teasing tone.
“It’s not like that.”
“If you say so,” he shrugged and took a drag from his cigarette, looking nonchalant, but that mischievous glint in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.
You brought the bottle to your lips with a huff, but to your disappointment, it was already empty. You dropped it into the sand, then just stared into the fire, pointedly ignoring David’s presence next to you. That was until you heard a screech. Looking up, you saw Marko now on top, his fingers at Paul’s sides, tickling the hell out of him. The rocker was shrieking with laughter, thrashing around, his legs kicking, but he couldn’t break free. Gasping for air, he turned his head in your direction and screamed your name in a last ditch effort.
“Help, he’s killing me!” Then he fell back into another fit of giggles. Shit, maybe David was right.
You let out a resigned sigh and stood up, feeling his eyes on you once again.
“Don’t even start,” you grumbled without looking at the leader, then went to save that stupid beautiful man. After all, who are you going to confess your potentially growing feelings to if Marko accidentally smothers him?
#tlb 1987#the lost boys 1987#the lost boys x reader#the lost boys paul#tlb paul#tlb paul x reader#drabble
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could you please write ANYTHING for steven! no one writes for him and i love your writing!
would love a friends to lovers story but im working with crumbs so anything will do
you are in love - s.c
summary: request
steven conklin x reader
a/n: he looks so cute in this gif i’m crying 🩷 i hope you enjoy this, one of my fav tropes :))
the years had passed by so fast, each one leaving lost confessions in the dust. y/n would always regret it, but then new years came around and she promised herself she would say something. then year one passed, and year two.
she didn’t say anything to steven. she only gave small hints and signs, but he never really saw any of them. little did y/n know was that he was doing the same, sending her little messages with his mind and he broke every time she didn’t notice. it was pure oblivion, neither of them seeing the pure love they had for each other.
they lived as friends for too long. the runs on the beach, the bakery trips, the boardwalk dates were still friendly engagements. it was the complete opposite of what they wanted.
y/n had no idea how steven was missing it, even being valedictorian. he was the first to stand up at her sport games, or any of her activities that she did good at. he’d always have the most loving beam on his face when she showed him a good grade she got on a test. and she was the first one on her feet at his graduation.
she helped him practice his speech all the time, over the phone and even some long weekends in person. y/n was always there for steven, through the good times and the bad. when he achieved his goal, or when he lost susannah. she held him while he cried, listened to every agonizing word that left his mouth. he has no clue how to thank her for any of that, as she was the only consistent support system in his life, the constant source of love that he could never be derived of.
she drove hours to his school, sitting right in the audience with his family as he walked up to the podium. each word of his speech left with such grace, being delivered with his class in a mature way. the moment the last word in the paper left his mouth, she was on her feet, clapping her hands together and getting his attention first. his eyes wandered to her, the most alluring smile illuminating the room he was in. he was surrounded by classmates and their families, but suddenly, he and y/n became the only people there. he stepped down, accepting his diploma and making his way out after the graduation ceremony.
y/n pushed through the crowd of people in their blue gowns and caps, trying to find the only one who mattered to her. as she twisted and turned around the people, seeing no one that was remotely close to steven. he noticed her from far away, pulling away from an embrace with his mother and sister, seeing y/n trying to shuffle through the crowds.
his feet started moving toward her before he could even think straight. he just saw her gorgeous face, the one he just wants to love out of the silence. she finally landed her eyes on him, seeing the diploma being handed off to laurel. she started stepping quicker toward him, but it still felt like slow motion.
her heels clicked on the ground outside, trying to contain the wide smile she had on her lips. she was preparing to be there for steven after his graduation, but only as a friend. she so badly wanted more, but she pushed through their friendship with what seemed like ease.
when they finally reached, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her legs off the ground and her knees bent. y/n wrapped her arms around him, softly squealing in his ear about how proud she was, and that his speech was perfect. she started to blabber on about how amazing he is, moments away from spilling her whole heart out on the floor.
he giggles at her words flying out of her mouth at an insane speed, placing his hands on her shoulder and stealing her from her own mind.
“steven, you don’t even understand how good that was!” she rants in the most adorable way. “i don’t know how else to say how proud of you i am!”
“y/n, listen,” he grins, lifting her chin up to look at him, who stands tall over her.
“i’m sorry! i just needed you to know how amazing you are.”
he can only manage to smile back, tilting his head a bit at her. “can i talk now?” he asks, jokingly, as she quiets down to let him talk.
“i just wanted to say, that i’m leaving the stupid steven in high school,” he begins, leaving y/n’s brows and nose to scrunch up.
“huh?”
he places his two fingers back on the tip of her chin, lifting it closer to his face and planting his lips on hers. it felt so natural, as if they could’ve been doing it for years. y/n simply let it happen, the moment she’d been praying for finally happening.
his soft, warm lips touched against her own, the faint taste of mint gum on lips and the strength of his cologne. a weight was lifted off stevens shoulders as he deepened the kiss, the same load being swiped off y/n’s.
when they finally fell back down to earth, y/n smiled against stevens lips, the sweet grin only making him further infatuated with her.
“you’re the only one i want, y/n,” he says. “i can’t hide it anymore.”
“don’t ever hide it again,” y/n replies, reaching up on her toes to peck his lips again. the firework had finally been ignited, and burst beautifully in the brightest colors in the sky.
#tsitp#the summer i turned pretty s2#the summer i turned pretty#the summer i turned pretty fic#tsitp fic#tsitp steven#steven conklin#steven conklin fic#steven conklin x y/n#steven conklin x reader#steven conklin x you#taylor jewel#belly conklin#team cam cameron#team conrad#team jeremiah#team steven#team belly#conrad fisher#jeremiah fisher#laurel conklin#susannah fisher#we’ll always have summer#it’s not summer without you
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hii i love your fics! could we get more of bodyguard!jj and him thinking she’s spoiled but then she proves him wrong and they become like actual really good friends! (i hope that makes sense!) have a great day or night!! xxx 💝💝
Bodyguard part 2
part 1
bodyguard!jj maybank x kook!reader
a/n: hope this is ok! i love bodyguard!jj so i’m happy you asked for more!
my ask box is always open, fill free to send me your thoughts!
Having a bodyguard was an experience. It was like having a companion everywhere you go except JJ wasn’t your companion. He was more like an employee, you were his client. Nothing more.
You couldn’t deny how attractive JJ was. Even though he was rude to you. He had this aura about him that drew you in. He was so muscular and beautiful it made you lightheaded.
The day was bright and sunny. You thought it would be a good idea to go to the boardwalk. It was relaxing and fun down by the beach. But it was also hot. You thought that today calls for some ice cream.
JJ watched as you went up to the cashier and asked for strawberry ice cream. You then turned to JJ and asked if he wanted anything. He declined but thought it was sweet that you asked him. He also noticed how polite you were to the cashier.
JJ was impressed with your behavior. He was beginning to see your true colors. Maybe you weren’t so spoiled after all. “You two make a cute couple,” the cashier said handing you your ice cream on a cone.
“Oh we’re not together,” you blushed.
“Yeah i’m her bodyguard not her boyfriend,” JJ grumbled.
You took your ice cream and was on your marry way, walking down the boardwalk with JJ. You were feeling the ocean air and soaking up the sun. JJ thought you looked beautiful. Your hair was cascading down your back and your cheeks were flushed. You wore a sun dress that showed off your legs and made JJ feel something in his chest.
After you finished your ice cream and walked around for a while it was starting to get late. The sun was starting to set and you sat down on the sand to watch the sunset. You could hear the waves crashing and see the sky become painted in pink and orange.
It was lovely. JJ was unusually quiet. It made you think he was lost in thought.
“Penny for your thoughts,” you broke the silence by speaking.
JJ dipped his hand in the sand, grabbed a handful and then watched it slide through this fingers and back into the sand.
“What? Oh nothing, I’m just watching the sky,” JJ shrugged.
“Come on you can trust me,” you gave him a small smile. You don’t know why you were so interested, JJ wasn’t usually kind to you but you wanted to know his story.
JJ wanted to tell you what was on his mind but he didn’t want ruin the relationship you had. Strictly bodyguard and client nothing more.
“Just drop it okay?” JJ snapped.
“Ok fine,” you crossed your arms and looked away.
————-
JJ was coming over to your house because you needed a ride. Your parents let him in and he made his way to your room. He knocked on the door and herd you say “come in” so he entered.
“What are you doing?” JJ asked. He saw trash bags filled with clothes he assumed. He was confused as to why they littered your bedroom floor.
“I’m donating some of my clothes,” you said with smile.
“Oh wow that’s nice of you,” JJ was shocked. He thought that was very considerate of you. Maybe you weren’t so spoiled after all.
You got in JJ’s car as he packed the trunk with all your trash bags filled with clothes. As JJ drove to the donation center he couldn’t help but see you in a different light.
“That’s the last of them,” you told the donation center worker, handing him the last bag.
“Thank you so much for your donation!”
“Where to now?” JJ asked.
“Hmm I don’t know I don’t have any other plans for today.”
“How bout I take you somewhere?” JJ suggested.
You were intrigued so you went along with it. JJ took you to the hawks nest. You were surprised. The two of you climbed to the top and sat at the ledge.
“Ya know you’ve really impressed me lately princess.” JJ started the conversation.
The name was something JJ came up with because you were a kook princess. JJ didn’t know however, how it made you feel. It made your stomach do a flip and your heartbeat quicken.
“How so?” you responded.
“You’re not who I thought you were.” JJ explained.
“Huh well you’d be surprised what happens when you get to know someone.”
“Yeah I guess.”
“Can I ask you something?” you raised the question.
“Sure,” JJ replied.
“Why were you so mean to me when you first became my bodyguard?”
“Can I get a different question?” JJ asked.
“No, i think i deserve an explanation.”
“You want the truth? Well honestly I thought you were some spoiled rich kid that didn’t care about anybody except yourself. I didn’t want work for some stuck up kook.”
“Right so you were being a judgmental asshole.” You laughed.
JJ laughed with you. He agreed. You were right and he desperately wanted to redeem himself.
“Look i’m sorry for how I treated you. I would like to put that behind us. Is there any way you could forgive me?” JJ apologized.
“Yeah I guess so. Only if you buy me an ice cream sometime,” you replied.
“Deal.”
——————
Ever since the hawks nest JJ was nice to you. It was kinda of surprising. You didn’t expect him to change his attitude so fast. You thought maybe just maybe you could get along and be friends.
Today you were going to the country club. JJ of course was tagging along for your protection. You were happy because you were finally getting along with your bodyguard.
The two of you were having lunch at the country club. It was a cool and crisp day. You commented saying it was a beautiful day and JJ agreed.
“All you’re getting is a salad?” JJ questioned.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t want anything else?”
“Nope.”
“How about dessert?” JJ smiled.
You laughed. “You got me there.”
“Before dessert how about we have some drinks on me?” You suggested.
“I don’t drink on the job.” JJ replied.
“Oh right. More for me then!”
You ordered a mimosa. You and JJ kept on chatting about anything and everything. You were more talkative than normal because you kept ordering all kinds of drinks under the sun.
JJ was getting worried you were drinking too much.
“How about we get you home princess.”
“Nooooooo. I wanna stay!”
“I think it’s time to call it quits.”
Now JJ couldn’t take you home because he didn’t want your parents to see you like this.
And he couldn’t take you to his house for obvious reasons, so he settled for the beach. He hoped you would sober up there.
JJ took your hand after you paid for lunch, and guided you away to the beach. He sat you down in the sand.
“I wanna swiimmmm.” You slurred.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” JJ voiced.
Much to JJ’s dismay, you stood up a little wobbly and started taking off your clothes. JJ did his best to not look at your body but it was hard. You were breathtaking.
JJ grabbed you by the waist and hauled you over his shoulder. He picked up your discarded shirt and shorts and started to walk to his car.
“Come on princess, time to go.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like it.”
“But you’re the kook princess are you not?”
You let out a huff in defeat.
“Please put me down!”
“Not til i know you’re not going to run into the water.”
“I won’t I promise!”
JJ took you home. He figured your parents were asleep. So as long as you were quiet it shouldn’t be a big deal.
JJ guided you to your room and had you sit on the bed.
“You got to be careful Y/N,” JJ scolded.
“Yeah yeah,” you waved him off.
JJ tucked you in and told you to go to sleep.
“Goodnight Y/N.”
When you woke up the next morning last nights events were a little hazy. You remember JJ was looking out for you the whole time. You thought to yourself how lucky you were to have such a great and caring friend.
part 3 coming soon ;)
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